#also: hard to notice but their left green eyes are glowing behind those glasses :]

[occasionally-victor]

(click for a better quality)

can't wait for this series to make me sad, boys

just a bit of notes:

players have: 1. hh:mm:ss clock on left hand (for knowing exact time) 2. mini-clock in left eye (for others to have understanding how much time someone has) 3. collar (activates when the time has run out, dont know exactly what does yet tho, partially inspired by yttd)

#art #fanart #mcyt #traffic smp #trafficblr #limited life smp #smallishbeans #grian #solidaritygaming #i accidentally slightly fucked up jimmys face but! #fixed it by giving him blue lipstick #maybe he ate some blue paint i dont know anymore #also: watching all povs while having to get ready for exams ayyyy #also: hard to notice but their left green eyes are glowing behind those glasses :]

[orbdotexe]

A Hunter’s den, one of many within the City’s walls; decorated in low hanging, warmly dim lights drooping between every pillar and strings of trinkets, crystals, and bones in varying lengths. Whether it was far too early in the morning or just at sunset is lost on the small packs of Hunters scattered around bars and long tables, carved in a number of designs from each lot’s preference. Very few seats or couches were left unmarred by claiming marks, despite the low number of current visitors. One group, perched at their usual meeting spot at the far end of the main bar (despite the lack of a real bartender; they all just helped themselves to the drinks. In this den, who knew who restocked the drinks or when), gossip about any number of things. Today, it branched into the Prison of Elders.

I didn't even mean to write this, it just appeared in my doc after a day and a half of staring at the Drifter+Shin one. uh. I hope this ties people over??? also please google damacus steel. its so pretty

can be read below + [ao3]

An Awoken in gold and purple, with eyes and hue to match, loudly declares, “Not a commonly known fact, but the Young Wolf was very protective of their Ghost. I heard a rumor their Ghost got corrupted, and pushed them to.” He doesn’t take any notice of a few head turns—And even then, most return to their respective conversations. “It would make sense—Just think about it: If your only friend fell and you could stay with them by–” 

“What?!” Another Awoken, teal toned and white-eyed, interrupts the first. “No. Gid, no. Cayde had how many debts? Not a countable amount, that's for sure. If it's power they were after, taking a big bribe from his enemies would've been a good start, and put them ahead of the game, reputation wise. Put them in some good graces, y’know?”

A black exo with deep red eyes raises his glass of a faintly glowing, green drink. “No no, Seph—Think I‘m with Gideon ‘ere. ‘magine the pressure an’ the amount of time they spent out on missions and patrols? Naw’ an unreasonable thing t’ think.”

“Oh shove it, Rancher. Just because you’ve got a few screws loose from the loooonely wilds, don’t mean the rest of us do.” The second Awoken, Seph, gives the exo a hard glare, and Rancher scoffs. 

“Yea? An’ whata ‘bout Lacks?” Gideon mutters something about that not being her name. “Were a deal ‘ey brokered, then what’s up wit’ the execution? Just don’t sit right wit’ me.” Rancher scowls when Seph brings a damascus knife down next to the exo’s hand, barely landing between the ring and pinky.

“How would I know?! Maybe Lakshmi was planning something! You never know until it's too late. Maybe–”

“The only thing that old bat would have been planning, was kicking the House out,” Gideon deadpans. “Did you hear her over the radios? She had lost her damn mind.” Rancher hums, half in agreement and half in consideration.

“Speaking of the House! Maybe they were the ones who made a deal with the Guardian. If she had been planning–”

“You’re a damn conspiracy theorist, Seph. A fucking conspiracy theorist.”

“If you’d stop interrupting me—”

“'It’d all make sense’? Mhm. Anyway, you think the Crow might be next?” Gideon picks up again, poorly suppressing a laugh at Seph’s indignant sputtering. “If they wanted to show off their grand power, the City’s new ‘Big Hero’ would make a good target.”

The teal Awoken grumbles for a moment, as Rancher takes a thoughtful sip of his drink, before suddenly piping up, having already shaken off the disrespect. “Oohhohoh, yeah, for sure! He would be the next best thing, wouldn’t he?” The excitement puts a foul taste in Rancher’s mouth.

“Already left behind the deal theory?” Gideon grins at Seph’s short-lived glare. “I did hear word that the exile had been spotted quite a few times in the Tangled Shore awhile back—Specifically while the new Big Guy was leading the hunt for those… rage born? Whatever. Wrathborn?” 

Seph gives him a thumbs up as Rancher gives the two of them a look.

“Hoh– Ya don’t think..?” His face twists as much as it can into an uneasy grimace, starting to take another sip of his drink before realizing it’s empty. Seph gives him a curious look at his distaste for the Crow comments, then pours him another glass. The exo gives a thankful nod.

“I think the Vanguard needs to keep a closer eye on their Golden Boy.” Gideon, almost darkly, chuckles. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Rancher’s new tone, or newly thoughtful expressions. 

“Ohh yeah…” Seph merely shrugs, before grinning. “Making that mistake again, are they?”

Rancher’s mind doesn’t move from the threat to the Crow. He stares off at the shelves of drinks, before irritatedly muttering something about ‘just a newlight’. Gideon raises a brow at him as Seph pokes the exo. “3 years? May still be a Newlight, but he’s definitely not a blueberry anymore.” Rancher only glares.

Gideon puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Look, I’m just saying—If the Vanguard wanted him safe, or didn’t want a repeat of the Prison, they would do well to keep a better eye on their shiny new weapon! The Guardian was a Newlight, too, when they took the mantle. You’d think they see the pattern, here.”

“Newlights plus power equal bad idea?” Seph chimes, half laughing.

“Precisely.”

#'were a deal ey brokered' = 'Were it a deal they brokered'. i know that bit was a bit hard to understand so. gonna say that now #The Forsaken Exile #Destiny 2 #anyway everyone gets bullied by these 3 (including each other) #im saying it again! hunters are gossip queens! #also my writing might have change a little bit? i cant tell very well outside of the desc of the den #but i dont think its a *bad* change. just a bit different from what im used to doing

[tumbling-darkling]

Miraculous Ghosts

Danny and friends visit Paris and come across trouble, as well as the cities local superheroes.

Lately, Hawkmoth has been recycling villains. There are only so many people in Paris and not everyone gets emotionally vulnerable strongly enough or long enough to be akumatized. Those that do, and commonly like Mr. Pidgeon, usually had a certain fixation that was easy to exploit. The thing was, both Marienette and Chat Noir already knew their weakness, the items that would most likely get akumatized, the whole schtick. So the battles were really fast and easy.

A new face always had to be met with caution, the lack of knowledge regarding the person was dangerous and if the pair wasn’t careful, they could end up losing the battle. And their Miraculous.

With the start of summer came tourist season, and tourists could be victims of akumatization. Which seemed to be the case within the first week. 3 villains, all new faces, but the pair had gotten lucky with the similar powers that the heroes had faced before and the three were all defeated in a timely manner.

There was a short week of nothing happening.

And then all hell broke loose.

—————————————————————

Marienette knew the start of the tourist season had begun just based on the filled streets of strange faces, sunglasses, cameras, and the use of foreign languages. This also was noticed based on how busy her parents' shop had become, and how rarely she was managing to escape outside to enjoy some of summer's freedom. The good thing was she was able to brush up on some of her English, since the tourists usually spoke the common American language and the experience was always welcome to help boost her grades in the upcoming year. Even if it was a few months away.

She’d figured out the best way to sneak off during any attacks was to ‘use the bathroom’ or ‘accidently’ make a mess and excuse herself to clean up. It had worked during the first week and she didn’t have to do anything the past week since Hawkmoth seemed to take a break. She finished serving a young pair of Americans, a tall girl with orange hair, and a lanky boy nearly the same height with raven black hair.

She had to admit, some Americans had a certain charm, but the bustle of the kitchen quickly caught her attention as she was back to serving the next person in line.

Just as Chloe waltzed in, basically knocking the american boy over as she strutted to the front of the line, causing people to cast glares in her direction. The boy hissed when he fell, the American girl offering to help him up in English as he shook his head and stood up, dusting himself off as Marienette went to deal with the walking form of pure rich privilege. “Urg, Dupain-Cheng’s dingy little cafe? Of course she works here, it just smells like burnt bread.” She huffed.

Marienette bristled, but put on her customer service smile, noticing the poor Americans victim to Chloe leaving the shop. She was hoping to offer them a replacement after dealing with Chloe but it was a little late now. “Ma’am, unless you are here to pick up an order, you will have to wait in line like everyone else.” She strained.

“Ma’am? I am Chloe Dubois! I don’t need to wait in line like some sort of peasant! Just give me whatever you didn’t make.”

Marienette had to swallow down any returning insults and put down one of their most expensive items, handing it over with a clearly strained smile, “have a nice day.”

Chloe huffed with her baked goods in hand but left as soon as she appeared, allowing Marienette some relief. Very little damage. A little annoyance but nothing worthy of an akuma-.

An explosion was heard from outside, and Marienette groaned internally.

She just had to jinx it.

—————————————————————

Ladybug dove off to the side as the villain shot out a ray of white, plasma-like energy. Adrien, fighting as Chat Noir, and his partner were having a hell of a time with this dude. He spotted the chaos on the news, the villain calling himself ‘Black Hole’ and giving his poor Lady a hard time. When he finally arrived on the scene, he wasn’t able to do much either.

The villain was basically a godly powerhouse, floating in the air, shooting burning rays of heated plasma, or even ice! Ice and plasma! Sometimes he MIXED the two beams to create an even WORSE beam! Whenever either of the heroes got close enough to land a hit, their punches and kicks would go right through him. Then he would DISAPPEAR. REAPPEARING AND LANDING ANOTHER HEAVY BLOW. He would fly around like gravity was non-existent, and these abilities didn’t stop there. Every so often, he would yank out this thermos looking thing and shoot out these wormholes. Or… possibly black holes. Calling them black holes felt wrong though… since they glowed green and swirled before disappearing after a few moments.

The villain's outfit was a change of pace too. It was impossible to figure out his age since he was completely covered in a thick fabric material that reminded him of space suits. Yet looked a lot less bulky than actual space suits, thin yet sturdy metal covered his forearms, and formed a backpack that was attached by a wide metal collar that spread to his collarbone and slightly covered his shoulders, as well as a metal strap that wrapped around right under his chest. A plated, metal belt circled his waist with a clip for the green black hole thermos, and thigh high boots with a similar fabric to his suit covered most of his legs, thick plastic looking platform soles attached at the feet. Black bands wrapped around the ankles of the boots. A helmet covered his entire face, a metal frame covering the bottom half like a muzzle while the top was a tinted glass dome following the shape of his head, the inside of it entirely black except for the eerie glow of a single, left eye. The helmet had a tube on the back of the helmet that connected to his backpack, but neither he or Ladybug could figure out if it was essential or for decoration. His entire colouring was monotone, much bleaker than their previous villains. His suit was black, the boots, forearm cuffs, belt, backpack and collar were all a middle shade of grey, the only flash of colour being the glow of the single toxic green eye amongst the darkness of the helmet.

The dude was disturbing. He didn’t make any sound, in fact he seemed to ABSORB the sound around him. Like they were in space.

Paris was getting destroyed more and more by the second and the two didn’t know what to do. The Lady’s lucky charm turned into a thermos, which she didn’t have a clue how to use in the situation in front of them. Maybe it was a hint? A clue about soup? Or getting the villains thermos?

The problem with the last idea was that neither he or Ladybug could TOUCH this villain. And each of them were getting worse and worse for wear by the second. He could tell Ladybug was getting ready to get some sort of help, but who could make something untouchable… touchable? Chat even tried to use cataclysm on the villain's thermos while Ladybug had distracted him, but he twisted at the last moments and grabbed Chat's hand, draining cataclysm before he tossed him aside like it was nothing.

Another blast of plasma sent the two tumbling away from each other, and then a blast of ice caught Chat off guard. Cold shot up his arm as his muscles convulsed, a scream caught in his throat as the ice trapped his arm in such a tight and sturdy prison. He twisted to try and use his free arm to claw the other out of the ice, a shadow in the corner of his vision causing him to twist and jolt in surprise as the villain stood right in front of him. The glowing green eye was cold as it bore into him, and the villain grew closer and closer, drifting off the ground and absorbing every noise around him, the air around them dropping to freezing temperatures. Chats breath formed in front of him as gasps, panic clear in the quick breaths, fear intensifying as the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and blood roaring through his veins.

The villain's hand shot out and grabbed his free one- the one with his miraculous.

Chat heard Ladybug cry out as the villain gripped onto the ring, a quick glance showing she too was trapped.

That she was next.

Chat tried to keep his fingers curled, but he was battered and weak, and the villain hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Prying open his fingers was easy, the ring vulnerable. This was it. He used cataclysm too soon and now he was powerless. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t save anyone. He was a failure. This was the end of Paris.

They lost.

—————————————————————

Fucking. Vlad.

This entire trip had Danny on edge and it was all because of Vlad.

At first, he thought maybe, for once, Vlad wasn’t being a piece of shit when offering the family a fully paid trip to France for two weeks. He was suspicious. He probably just wanted the family out of town to do some shady shit. But a two week trip to France wasn’t the WORST thing a man could do. Especially in comparison to kidnapping and cloning.

But then his parents got sick. A common flu. Right before the trip. And they wanted Jazz and him to experience Paris. Then Vlad offered to be a chaperone.

It was all a play to get Danny alone for two weeks and try and manipulate him.

He did manage to get Tucker and Sam to tag along, something about friends being his family and the two unused tickets his parents left behind. But Vlad knew how to separate the group. How to corner Danny at the worst moments and whisper annoying remarks in his ear as he tried to get away.

He survived a week. He only had one more week to go. Tucker and Sam were off checking out some places for lunch while Jazz and Danny went to pick up sweets for everyone to share after their meal.

Vlad was off doing who knew what so Danny had put him to the back of his mind.

The cafe they found was… well it smelled incredible. There were so many baked goods on display and the air was filled with the warm and sweet smell of the goodies. He let Jazz do most of the talking, she wanted to practice her French and Danny had recently discovered that being dubbed the ghost king meant that now he had a natural grasp on all verbal languages, including the dead ones. This meant his speech in French was almost flawless, and his understanding was like he was listening to someone speak English. He couldn’t read other languages though, just speak them. He was told though by a few locals he had an odd accent. It wasn’t an american one, just… odd.

So Jazz ordered the treats and the pair was headed out to meet Danny’s friends.

Then some blonde girl with way too much make-up basically knocked him to the ground, not even sending him a glance that indicated she knew what she did. It was annoying, but he dealt with bullies on a daily basis back at Amity Park. Well… used to. But he knew better than to waste any thought on some jerk like her. He sadly looked at the ruined cat paw shaped cookies, the icing ruined and the cookies crushed under his weight when he fell.

Standing up with the help of Jazz, they left the shop as Danny insisted on finding somewhere to wash off the icing stuck to his shirt. He liked this shirt too… he hoped it wouldn’t stain too badly. It was better than ectoplasm at least, that stuff needed to be burned out, there was no such thing as washing out ectoplasm.

Jazz asked to help, but Danny brushed her off, telling her he could easily clean himself off by himself.

And then Vlad chose that moment to corner him.

—————————————————————

“Hello Daniel.”

Danny splashed water wildly as he spun around to glare at the older Halfa, hissing out an ‘Ancients!’ in surprise. “What the hell, Vlad?” He spat, “sneaking up on a kid in the bathroom? I should just call the police and tell them about all that stalking you like to do.”

“Aren’t you tired of this childish game?” He hummed.

“Not really, seeing as I’m a child and I love games,” Danny sneered.

“I’m older, more experienced, and stronger. I am also patient, little badger. And it’s easy to wear you down. By the end of this trip, you are going to be begging to be my-.”

“Son? Pet? Little slave that does everything you ask? Sorry, Vladdy, but I ain’t the type to listen to crazy fruit loops. How about you go enjoy the company of your French rich friends like that Agreste dude instead of stalking me and trying to get with my mom and kill my dad. Might do you some good to make more friends than just your cat.”

“Oh Daniel, you throw your petty insults but I know ways to break you even further. You know, a lot of accidents happen in Paris. Terrible things.”

Danny felt his eyes flash as he spun on his heel, “listen to me, if you even consider-!”

“Not to mention your brand new ghostly responsibilities as… the ghost king? Imagine that. A child as the king. You don’t even know everything about ghosts.”

“Neither do you!” Danny spat.

“Oh but I know so much more. And I could easily teach you-.”

“Just shut up!”

“When you mess up, when the ghost zone begins to fall apart, you will wish you took my offer, but I may not be as forgiving when that happens.”

“I said shut up!”

“And we both know the moment the ghost zone falls apart, so will this world. All because a boy became king and didn’t take help he was so graciously offered.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Something inside him shifted, and Danny suddenly felt his mind cloud, a deep voice echoed his mind.

“A cruel man harassing a young teen that wants nothing to do with him. A shame when someone can’t take a hint.

Black Hole. I am Hawkmoth. I can give you the power to show this old man that he never should consider looking in your direction ever again.

All I ask is for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. Do this for me, and Vlad Masters will never be an issue for you ever again.”

Danny’s clouded mind and building rage smirked at the offer, his voice echoing as he glanced up at Vlad who was giving him a confused look. “Yes, Hawkmoth.”

Darkness engulfed him and then his memory began to fail him.

—————————————————————

A boomerang slammed into Black Hole’s head, causing it to jerk to the side and a small crack formed on the glass that was hit. The metal boomerang dropped to the ground and Black Hole slowly looked down at it as a robotic voice cried out from it, “ghost detected!” And then a recorded voice spouted out, “take that, spook!”

Black Hole’s head slightly tilted at the noise it made, a hand subconsciously rubbing the crack it left behind. Then he twisted his gaze back to Chat Noir, going back to taking the hero’s miraculous.

Then a shout came from behind Black Hole and Chat caught the eyes of a teenage girl yelling and holding a bat over her head. Black Hole twisted, his body turning that transparent look whenever Chat or Ladybug had tried to hit him before, and Chat knew that it was useless. “No! Stop! Get out of here-!” He screamed at the citizen, but stopped when the bat connected with the villain's head and sent him flying into a wall.

Chat was at a loss for words for once in his life, watching the villain slowly pry himself from the wall from being hit by a baseball bat when he and Lady couldn’t land a single hit. He looked back at the citizen and shrieked as she raised the bat above her head and swung down at him, flinching and squeezing his eyes shut. She hit something, causing it to shatter and then- his hand was free!

He opened his eyes and looked at his hand in awe and then back at the girl, “who the heck are you?”

She huffed, dropping the bat casually on her shoulder, “Sam Manson. Friend of the idiot that didn’t do his research before taking a trip here. I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

Chat blinked, “you- you know that’s your friend? And knew this would happen?”

Sam shrugged, “the booo-merang is never wrong. And yeah, my friend there is not exactly the most emotionally stable person on the planet. Sorry it took us a while to get here. You guys really do move fast.”

Chat just opened and closed his mouth a few times, then yelled as she suddenly swung the bat again and smacked the villain in the gut as he got close during their exchange, knocking him sideways but not down like the first time. Black Hole turned again, making a snarling sound before he was blasted by some sort of green ray and sent flying sideways, rolling along the pavement before smashing into a car. Another teen jogged over with Ladybug behind him, dropping his hands to his knees as he wheezed, “I have ran… way too much for this to be considered a vacation.”

“M’Lady-, what is going on?” Chat asked.

“This is Tucker, and his friend Sam, and they know how to help,” Ladybug quickly explained, glancing back at Black Hole. “We need to draw his attention and get that thermos off of him, then Sam and Tucker can use this,” she held up the thermos from her lucky charm, “and we can get his akuma.”

“Akuma is in the thermos, knock it off,” Chat summarized. He heard his miraculous beeping, a sign he was close to his limit.

“Let’s end this fast.”

—————————————————————

Ladybug held the booo-merang in one hand as the two teens and Chat drew Black Hole’s attention, the teens equipped with weapons that seemed to get past some of Black Holes abilities.

She narrowed her gaze, waiting for the perfect moment, then threw the weapon, watching it arch in the air then knock the thermos off of the villain's waist. The thermos clattered to the ground and drew his attention, he quickly twisted and dove to try and retrieve it, which was when a bright beam erupted from the polka dot thermos Ladybug had given the teens. The beam caught the villain's legs and he was tugged back, his form pulling towards it like taffy as he twisted and a horrid scream of anger burst from him. He tried to escape it, flailing and reaching for anything to hang on to, but in a matter of seconds he was pulled into the canister and Sam slammed the lid shut. The screaming stopped and Ladybug made her way over to Black Hole’s thermos, stomping on it and crushing it, releasing the Akuma hidden inside. With a flick of her wrist her lucky charm turned back into its original form, dumping Black Hole onto the street, then the butterfly was caught and purified, and another click of her miraculous, she let the little bug flutter away harmlessly. With a shout, ‘Miraculous Ladybug!’, everything around them was engulfed in black and red as the damages were undone around them.

At last, the villain's form was released of Hawkmoth's influence and it left a lanky teen laying on the street. He slowly sat up with a groan and a hand to his head and she then realized it was the same teen as from the shop. So once again, this was Chloe’s fault. She turned her attention to the two teens that helped her, noticing Chat let out a hasty farewell and thanks and disappeared around a corner. “Thank you, both of you. Without your help… well, without your help we may have lost that battle. But how in the world did you do that?”

“What the fuck just happened?” The teen groaned, “I feel like the booo-merang smacked me in the head like… fifty times.”

“That’s because I may have smacked you a few times with the fenton creep stick,” Sam shrugged as she helped her friend up who gave her wide eyes in return.

“You fucking what?”

Tucker took a step forward to answer Ladybug’s question, “let's just say back in our town, we have very specific supervillains that have abilities that make it hard for regular attacks to land. So we have specialized gear. Sam and I did a bit of research before heading here and figured if any of us got Akumatized, we may reflect some of those traits.”

“I… see…” Ladybug hummed, “and where did you say you were all from?” The three cast a few glances between each other, but before any of them could answer, her miraculous beeped angrily as she quickly realized she was out of time. “Thank you again for your help, if we could meet again to exchange some of that tech to make sure this never happens again-,” she quickly tried to set up a meet up before Sam held up a hand.

“This won’t happen again. A lot of what happened here is very unique to Amity, so once we finish our vacation, you won’t see this kind of thing ever again.”

Ladybug only had more questions but the angry beeping only forced her to nod and bid a quick farewell before getting out of sight to let Tiki take a rest. Marienette held out a few macaroons for Tiki as her thoughts swirled in her head. The questions about the odd American trio and how they knew how to deal with a villain as unique as Black Hole.

She may be able to corner them later. They did say they had to ‘finish their vacation.’

And in the meantime, it was time to do some research on this place called ‘Amity’.

—————————————————————

Danny didn’t remember a lot of what happened while he was the villain, Black Hole. It was like a dream, he kinda remembered the feeling, vague details, but nothing specific.

What he wished he remembered was whatever he did to Vlad. He must have done something because his memories cut out right after Vlad harassed him in the bathroom and after the event, the froot loop avoided him during the entire trip. Even refused to make eye contact!

What he would give just for a few seconds of that memory! Or for someone to have recorded it!

For now though he got to reap the rewards, flashing his eyes green when Vlad would glance over and causing the man to flinch. Oh man, he was going to abuse this newfound intimidation ability till the bitter end.

#Dp #danny phantom #danny #fenton #phantom #Danny fenton #miraculous ladybug #crossover #one shot #marienette #adrien agreste #marienette dupain cheng #ladybug #chat noir #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #vlad masters #danny gets akumatized #Ghost speak danny #This kid is a powerhouse #Be glad his friends are smart #Because without them hawk moth would’ve won #Hawkmoth afterwards: wtf just happened #Idiot didn’t realize he just got the fucking ghost king #Danny of course is a space themed supervillain #With ghost powers to add on #Hawkmoth gave him powers thinking he was a scrawny kid and just made Danny way more overpowered

[wendy130]

That’s not a fish (Part 1)

//Title to story may be subject to change.

// I will be using he/him pronouns for Eret thorough the entirety of this writing. I am aware that he uses all pronouns; this is to make the writing less confusing with other characters.

// Based on an rp I did with a friend. This isn’t an au. There may be a part two for this, but do not ask for one.

// Warnings: description of drowning (no one dies), the ocean

----

"It was a dark and stormy night."

That's how they always started in the stories.

Eret grunted as he marched through people's scurrying forms, all of them busy with throwing the pools of water that threatened to pull the ship down off of the deck.

Damn those stories to hell. He ducked under a few sailors, his eyes darting around, trying to find someone. Why was it always so hard to find the one person you needed?

Normally, he'd be one of the many bailing the water out, but he had other matters to attend to first. From behind his glasses, his eyes locked onto a figure afar.

"Puffy!" he shouted, striding closer to the woman. She turned to face him, wiping water off of her face as she stared at him with a tense form, "what's-"

"Just a normal storm," she interrupted him, shouting loudly. The crashing waves made it hard to speak normally, "be careful around the edges, Eret."

He slowly nodded, a grimace on his face as he ran a hand through his soaking wet hair. He opened his mouth to say something more, but she threw a bucket at him. He caught it with fumbling hands.

"I- Puffy," he tried yelling back to the captain but shouted in surprise as he felt a bigger than usual wave crash into the side of the ship. Both Puffy and him stumbled back, leaning against the railing and tightly holding onto the tiny, wooden beams for support.

The two exchanged alarmed looks before tilting their heads towards the dark waters.

"That seemed... like it was caused by something else," Eret yelled, forgetting his past worries.

Puffy searched the seas with a hidden intent as if she was looking for something. For someone. She frowned deeply and turned towards him,

"Stay away from the edges," she warily shouted, making no comment on his worries.

"What did you see?" Eret inquired, trying to search the waters like the captain had too. She only pulled him back from the shoulder, giving him a stern look.

That look meant that she was done talking.

Eret frowned, sending one last glance back at the churning waters before heading off to help the crew. He bit back a yelp as he felt another wave crash onto the side of the ship.

As he steadied his swaying figure, he glanced around at the abled men, women, and people who barely seemed affected by the harsh conditions.

He supposed it was only normal for them to be so resilient. It was fairly charming to see them all work together.

He also supposed that he'd have to get used to this, both to his dismay and excitement.

Eret pushed himself to help with whatever he could, passing buckets full of sloshing water back and forth between people and helping out with the masts. After only an hour, he was bone-tired, wheezing in exhaustion.

He really did need to step up his game.

Compared to his homeland, it seemed as if the sea's world needed more force than any battle he had fought before.

Eret yelped as a force from behind him pushed him closer to the edge of the boat. He barely had any time to fall back before a heavy bucket was thrown into his hands. He hesitated for a moment before hurling the water out of the bucket and tossing it to the nearest person who beckoned for the container.

He continued on like this for a while, falling into a steady rhythmic pattern before his arms also grew weak with weariness. He recoiled back as his felt his hands slip on the bucket. He fumbled around, barely catching the pail.

Many hands grasped onto him, pulling him back and pulling the bucket out of his hands. He stumbled back to the middle of the ship, one of the crew members giving him a stiff nod.

He staggered back, his reaction timing slow compared to everyone else on the ship. He was barely able to dodge the people barreling around the deck, and he found himself back at the edge of the ship again.

He was about to push himself back to the middle of the deck so he'd be able to take cover under the deck, but a spark of curiosity burned at the back of his mind. With a single shake of his head, he turned to face the waters, looking for any sign of what Puffy may have been looking for.

He gasped as he felt a lurching sensation alongside a scraping pain on his arms. He was hit with a heavy sense of vertigo as he tumbled downwards- why was he tumbling downwards?

His question was quickly answered as he felt a frigid splash of liquid hit him with full force.

The air in his lungs was knocked out as water consumed his weakened state. His throat and nose burned as water forced its way up into them, and he violently coughed, shoving his way back to the surface.

He was only able to take a short breath before a harsh wave crashed into him, sending him back under the water. He forced his way back up, taking another breath before he was pushed under again. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and his eyes stung from the salty water surrounding it.

Eret wildly glanced around the water, seeing only black inkiness underneath him. He breached the surface of the water again, helplessly looking for the ship he rode on. He cried out as he saw it already far from him,

"No!" he dazedly gasped, "wai- come back," he fruitlessly called out, flailing his arms around, trying to paddle his way to the ship.

It was pointless. He was in dead waters now.

Eret desperately tried anyways, though, clinging onto the diminishing hope that they'd turn around to find him.

A pit of despair grew in his stomach as he saw the ship grow smaller.

Surely they’d notice, right?

He wouldn’t be stuck and left for dead... right?

He almost choked on another wave that tugged him under the water before he surfaced, coughing.

He had gotten him screwed just because he was curious enough to look for something that didn't exist, hadn’t he?

His mouth dried as he felt the waters around him shift and move unnaturally.

...It didn’t exist..... right?

He shakily glanced down at the murky waters, half expecting to see a giant tentacle shoot out and drag him into the depths of the waters like in the stories.

He saw nothing for a moment, unable to discern anything from the foamy, angry waters, but.... as he stared for longer, he saw a giant dark figure circling him.

The outline vaguely reminded him of a shark tail with extra fins, but it had a different front- as if there was another part attached to the shark.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of any possible imaginary projections of his fears before looking back.

Nothing...

He almost sighed in relief, but, instead, a screech ripped from his throat as another wave crashed down on him. He was forced back under the water, given barely any time to gasp for new air. Thrashing wildly, he burst back up, practically coughing his lungs up as he gasped for air.

The waves had picked up in strength again, making him repeat a tiring process of trying to stay above the water. It was a loosing battle, though. Every time he came up for air, he was pushed under.

His muscles burned from use and lack of air, but he pushed on, clinging onto the threads of life.

 As he was pushed back down again, he kept his eyes open, looking around him for anything. His eyes burned from the salty waters, but he kept them open anyways.

He barely suppressed a gasp of shock as he saw a large shadow from afar.

This wasn’t a projection of his mind, was it?

He surged back to the surface with a newfound fear.

If he didn't die of hypothermia or drowning, he was most definitely going to be the victim of this creature.

That of, he was certain.

He desperately tried keeping an eye on the massive shadow, but it easily blended in with the stormy water, and he lost focus on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he trembled, weakly paddling around to keep his head above the liquid around him. 

A sinking feeling grew in his gut as he searched around himself for the creature.

He couldn’t find them from around him, so that meant....

Look down, look down, LOOK DOWN-

His eyes shot to underneath him, only to meet the gaze of two glowing green ones.

By Primes, he was so dead, wasn't he?

#writing #g/t #g/t mcyt #g/t Eret #g/t Foolish Gamers #g/t writing #fun fact: this is my 1000th post :D #That's not a Fish Au

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #bucky barnes series #fanfiction #fanfic #series

[megthemewlingquim]

Omg meg for Kinktober could you write   ❛   your face would look better between my legs.   ❜   where the reader is teasing Bucky/Loki (you pick) all night when they are at a party or something? And the reader says that and that's the last straw

Come Again?

Summary: You cross the line with your teasing, and Loki punishes you.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: teasing, dom! Loki, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial / delay, heavy overstimulating, multiple orgasms, aftercare

A/N: Hi, babes! This is my DAY TWO entry for Kinktober.

You really shouldn’t feel this good about what you’re doing. It’s not really a good thing, not to your husband, who just so happens to be the God of Mischief. But it is, at the same time.

What you’re doing is wearing something incredibly skimpish. Revealing. A dress that doesn’t even reach to your knees and has no sleeves. His favorite color, emerald green. Very, very fitted for you. He would know, he made it for you. But he had no idea you would use it to your advantage.

And Loki can only handle himself for so long before he snaps. You know this.

This is not the first time you’re deliberately trying to get on Loki’s nerves, but this is the first time it’s this… extreme. You’re really pushing your luck.

It’s a party hosted by Tony, one of many that you’ve attended with Loki. The air was different there after you married Loki. The two of you were complete, one flesh, absolutely inseparable, and everyone around you knew it, even if they hadn’t attended the wedding.

Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Bucky, Clint, Steve, Tony, Wanda, Vision, and Sam are all there, along with any S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who wanted to come - not many did.

You’re currently sipping on a Dr. Pepper that Tony so kindly poured in a wine glass. You’re not one for alcohol, except maybe the occasional hard seltzer. Today, you’ve decided, is not a night for alcohol.

Loki is beside you on your left, with an arm draped behind your shoulders and a finger drawing small, slow circles on your right arm. He looks... hm, happy is not the word for it, but he does not look annoyed or irritated. He looks blank. 

“Baby?” you ask, an aside. You keep your eyes on Steve, who is currently listing everything that probably happened in those new timelines he created. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki replies nonchalantly, “I’m fine. It’s just that my wife has been absolutely naughty with her attire, and I have a very annoying hard-on, but I don’t want to indulge her because quite frankly, she doesn’t deserve it.”

You freeze, and for a second, you cannot bring yourself to say anything. Your eyes widen, just a little.

Then, you smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

His eyes widen, then, and he leans forward, his lips grazing your ear. “Do not test me,” he whispers, his words laced with dominance and daring. “You know what’ll await you when we get back home if you do.”

You nod, your whole being suddenly stiff with desire and that submissive fear that isn't really fear.

"Now, what do you say?" he asks softly, not pulling away, a little grin on his face now. His tone is almost condescending.

"Sorry," you whisper, your chest heaving. Your mind, however, thinks the exact opposite.

“Apology accepted.” It’s a mystery to you if he believes you or not. He sure makes it seem like he does believe you, but you’re talking to the god of mischief here. You really can't be sure if he's being sincere.

And even if he is, you're not, and you like it.

Time passes by quite slowly, but that doesn't mean it's not enjoyable. Tony offers another toast to you and Loki, the newlyweds, though the wedding was three months ago. Bucky and Steve share a dance. So do you and Loki.

He holds you close, both hands around your waist. You sway from side to side, and he twirls you occasionally. Your eyes are aglow with love, sheer love for him — so much so that you almost forget how you're dressed, and what you're doing to Loki.

Almost.

Now's the time. The time to get what you want.

You lean in at the very end, your lips close to his ear. "Your face is all blushy. It's cute. But it would look better in between my legs."

His grip on your waist gets tighter.

There’s a split second of tension. Then,

"We're leaving," he says simply, and his tone is so quiet, so deep, so dark, that this time you're petrified. Both petrified and incredibly turned on.

Oh, so it's going to be one of those nights.

It’s quite easy to leave, you find out. You suspect that Loki has placed his invisibility on the both of you, so that no one notices you leave. When you both pass Thor from behind, however, he looks around. For a second, his eyes land right on you. But then he turns back around with a shrug, an unseen smile on his face.

“He knows,” Loki mutters. “I don’t give a damn if any of them know... not in any other circumstance. But this...” He takes a hold of your arm. His grip is tight. “This is between you and me this time.”

And with that, you make your way towards the exit.

Walking home is tension filled as well. Loki keeps silent, his arm wrapped around you. It seems protective to the common bystander, but you know that it is also possessive. You stay close to him, gripping onto his coat as if you’re a child.

When you both get home, he locks the front door. A common practice when it’s time to go to sleep, as it is with most families. But, you notice it’s only 7:04 p.m. when you look at the clock on the wall.

He says nothing while you set your coat on one of the dining chairs and your purse on the table. He eyes you with eyes so minimally narrowed that it wouldn’t even seem like anything’s different to them, but you notice. Even now, his gaze is piercing, primal.

You take one step towards the general vicinity of the bedroom, and he pounces on you like an animal. His grip is not too tight, nor is his face too angry - you know what kind of a mood he’s in.

“Did you really think you could get away with that?” he asks, almost smugly. “Naughty little thing.”

He all but throws you on the bed, not exactly man-handling you, but still being a little assertive.

“It was very rude of you to tease me like that,” he says, his tone once again condescending. He clicks his tongue. “Oh dear... what are we to do with you now?”

His eyes glance over your form; you’re still in your tight fitted dress, but your hair is now down. The look in your eyes is different, too: you look small, weaker.

Submissive.

“Well,” he says slowly, inching closer to the bed, his voice dark. “Let’s see. You wanted to tease me so badly, you wanted me to feel that... frustration... so badly. How about we give you a taste of your own medicine, hmm?”

His gaze hardens. “Take your dress off.”

And what can you do but obey?

You slide your dress up and over your torso, and let it fall beside you on the bed in a heap.

“Bra and panties, too.”

You do so, the air seemingly closing in tight around your form. Goosebumps break out, and you shiver. Your eyes never leave his.

All he does is look at you. He doesn’t move. “What are you thinking, pet?”

“I want - “ You swallow. “I want you.”

He chuckles. “It seems like you want a lot of things today. Never fear, pet. But...” his voice darkens again, “remember, this is a punishment. And you need to learn your lesson.

“Lie down on the bed. Do not spread your legs.”

You let yourself fall back, leaving yourself bare to him. A faint green glow appears in your peripheral vision. You hear a quiet buzzing noise, and your breath hitches.

“Oh, yes, pet,” Loki whispers seductively. “Today we’re edging you until you can’t take it anymore. You’re going to feel the same frustration that I have felt, and you will not be able to come until I allow it. Understood?”

You gulp, nodding your head frantically. “Yes, yes, please —"

“Please what?”

Your lip quivers, and you take a breath. “Yes, Master.”

“Good girl. Keep your eyes on the celling.”

Inwardly, you smile. Outwardly, you quiver and shudder in anticipation.

Suddenly, you feel your arms move upward. They are then locked above you, and you look up, seeing spinning neon - green rings of light. They look like handcuffs, you notice, and you lose your breath.

The vibrator trails up your legs, and with every movement you become more and more aroused and needy. It’s so close to where you need it, and yet so far. Loki is a tease, especially in times like these.

He brings it up, right next to your clit, and you buck your hips up with a desperate whine, and he chuckles darkly. “Teasing comes first. Then the pleasure. Then the agony... and, then, eventually, the releases.”

Releases. That’s plural. 

He holds the toy there, watching you as you slowly begin to feel the pleasure it brings you. You don't make too much noise. Knowing Loki, moaning could be off limits.

His voice is a deep murmur:

“Do not ask me to come. You will be silent, aside from your desperate moans and whines and gasps. You will not find your release until I allow you to. And once you come, I will keep you here, unable to escape. You’re going to come, then, until you can’t take it anymore. I will force orgasm after orgasm from you until you’re a mewling, pathetic little mess. This is your favorite type of punishment, yes?”

You’re gasping now, both at his words and the feeling of warmth that has now grown into a fire in your gut. Your legs shake and your back arches, but you cannot get him to help you out in any way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he whispers. “Remember, you will not control your pleasure today. I will.” With that, he moves the vibrator a little more upward, right on top of your clit, and you emit a sound that sounds almost like a squeak.

“Do not come.”

He holds it there, almost certainly watching how you buck your hips up and strain against your magicked restraints. You’re practically drenched in sweat, eyes fixed on the ceiling but closing rapidly. Trying to get away, trying to hold your orgasm back, because you both know you’re achingly close —

You practically scream through gritted teeth when he removes the vibrator. Your cry turns into a light, frustrated sob. 

He does it again. And again. And again.

Then,

There’s a pause in which nothing else happens. You can tell that Loki’s thinking something, in the middle of hearing your frustrated sobs.

“Have you learned your lesson now, wife?”

Wife. This is when he’s letting up, revealing more of his tender side. The dom is leaving, and the husband is coming onto the stage.

You sob again. “Yes — yes, yes, I have! Please, Master, just let me come! Please, please, pl —”

The vibrator is shoved onto your clit at full blast. Loki’s voice becomes stern again, and he demands:

“Come. Now.”

And your orgasm hits you like a train. Now, you scream through your teeth, almost blacking out at the intensity of it. It’s over as quick as it arrives, however, and it soon replaced by sheer beautiful agony once again as Loki keeps the vibrator on your now overly sensitive clit.

You try to move away. You have the audacity to try to move away.

“What did I tell you? That was only the first half. I’m not done with you yet. You’re going to come until I let you go.”

Your next three orgasms are almost painful, and he rips them from you with no mercy. He stands there, not moving. His eyes are on yours, and they’re almost blank. It’s a miracle his hand hasn’t gotten tired yet.

“Do it. Come again.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Finally you muster up the courage to cry out, the tears never fading from your eyes. It feels good, too good. You love it and despise it. “Loki...”

“I know, pet, I know.”

You look up at him, then, surprised at the tenderness in his voice once again. The Loki you’re looking at now is no longer the dom, no longer Master. His eyes are softer, kinder. He’s your husband now, and you practically sigh in relief.

“This is the last one. Can you come for me one last time?”

You manage a nod and a breathless smile.

“Good girl. Come, come for me, my angel.”

Somehow, this last orgasm is soft. Gentle. It’s not nearly as painful for you - you can compare it to a slow wave.

You can feel the restraints disappearing as soon as it ends and you instinctively jump away from his touch and curl up into a ball. Your body is still shaking, every nerve jumping and hot. All you can try to do is focus on the feeling of the air on your skin, which is now sweaty and warm, and the somewhat cooler sheets below you.

Loki must’ve slipped into bed beside you, because you feel a weight come against your back.

He waits to touch you. He waits until you say that he can. When you do, he sweeps you into his arms, running his hands up and down your own arms and kissing his way around your neck and shoulders. All the while, he never stops whispering his praise:

“Such a good girl for me.

“You did so well, sweet.

“You can rest in my arms now. I love you, my angel.”

Sleep takes you easily.

#loki smut #loki of asgard #loki (marvel) #loki fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #marvel headcanons #marvel asks #marvel #kinktober

[emmyhem]

right where you left me (l.r.h)

a/n: hi everybody! so this is a bit of a longer one that is inspired by the song “right where you left me” by taylor swift on evermore. it’s one of my favorites by her because i love the writing and the concept. whether you’re a taylor fan or not i suggest reading and then listening to the song with the fic in mind, it makes the song hit extremely hard. also expect more taylor inspired stuff in the future because she’s one of my all time favorite artists. this one is sad but i live for the angst so what’re you gonna do? my calum piece, “everything you’re missing” should be up by the end of the week and i’m working hard on my very first michael and ashton pieces as well, which is really exciting. anyway i hope you all enjoy and are being safe (get vaccinated if you can!) once again my messages are always open and feedback/criticism is always appreciated. hugs and kisses to all, thanks - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: you met 20 year old luke hemmings in a coffee shop eight years ago and were sure your life had been decided. you once told him you’d wait for him until you were sure he was happier without you. you never thought that day would actually come.

warning(s): angst, cursing, alludes to possible infidelity, it’s a sad one so buckle in. 

word count: 6.2k

Current time - December 14th 

The familiar ring of the entrance bell pulled your attention from the worn book beneath your fingers to take a routine glance at the patrons rushing in from the early December chill. Mitten covered hands, and icy cold flushed cheeks entered one after the other. Your typical seat in the corner of the small cafe was shielded from the penetrating winds that accompanied each person in their entrance but you still shivered in sympathy at each new arrival. 

Your steaming earl grey had faded into a tepid puddle at the bottom of your mug as the hours passed on the analog clock that adorned the brick wall in the front. Olive, a barista you had become friendly with over the years approached your table with the cafe’s winter speciality, an orange cranberry muffin in hand. 

“Last one.” she said, sitting it on a pine green napkin in front of you. 

You reached into your purse for a few spare bills to cover the cost when she stopped you by placing a hand on your forearm. 

“On the house for our favorite customer.” her eyes were filled with pity as she nodded down to you, and you were too tired to feel embarrassed. 

“Thanks, Liv.” you sighed. 

“It’s my pleasure, besides I always feel like we’re robbing you when you pay full price, you only ever eat half anyway.” she added as she walked away. 

You picked at the baked good, memories flooding your brain with each bite. 

Eight years ago - December 14th 

As you clutched your books with a death grip you cursed yourself for forgetting your gloves in your dorm. The wind was picking up and it wouldn’t be long until they were numb completely, and your sweater paws were less than effective in warming your frozen fingers. 

A flickering red light glowed just a bit down the street and a sugary citrus aroma was pulling your stiff limbs towards it against the wind. The closer you got the more mouthwatering the smell became and soon enough you had reached the door, bracing yourself for the chill of the copper handle as you pulled it open. 

Sweet, warm air enveloped you as you stepped inside. The red brick walls were chipped in more than a few places, red and green christmas lights twinkle from a tree in the corner, and the crackling of the fireplace was like music to your ears. You wondered how you had never noticed the quaint cafe before as you took your place in line behind a tall man wearing only a thin black hoodie and beanie for protection from the cold weather. As you got closer to him a piney scent cut through the sweet smell of pastries and you caught yourself leaning in to get a better whiff of its freshness. 

Your eyes scanned over the menu that hung behind the cash register while he ordered and did your best to ignore the chill that ran up your spine when his soft aussie accent invaded your ears. 

Once he finished and stepped off to the side to wait for his order you moved forward and placed your books on the counter. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” a young ginger barista with an abundance of freckles said. 

“Hi,” you paused and located her name tag. “Olive, I’ve never been here before but there's this smell that-” 

“Our orange cranberry muffins.” she interrupted pointing to a chalkboard in front of her that read, “Warm up with a wintery treat, try our famous orange cranberry muffin today!” 

Your stomach growled quietly at the thought as you nodded. 

“I would love one of those and...a medium early grey, please.” you replied, pulling a 10 dollar bill from your pocket. 

“Sadly, we have just sold our last one to the customer in front of you.” she nodded to the enticing blonde man that had caught your attention earlier, who was now staring down at his black vans as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. 

You narrowed your eyes at the muffin thief when he glanced up at you innocently while accepting his coffee from another worker. 

“We do still have our gingerbread and pumpkin muffins if you’d be interested in one of those instead.” Olive continued motioning a hand to the glass display of tasty treats to your right. 

You let out a disappointed huff, “That’s okay, just the tea please.” 

You paid for your order making sure to leave a few extra dollars in the tip jar before taking a seat on a worn burgundy couch near the fire to wait for your drink. 

Leaning your head against your hand for support you allowed your eyes to drift closed and listen to the pops and crackles of the fire meshing with the soft holiday music echoing through the place. You only opened your eyes back up at the feeling of the couch dipping beside you. 

Sitting too close to not acknowledge, was the boy from earlier who was now alternating sips of what smelled like a strong latte with bites of the muffin that could’ve been yours. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?” 

His head snapped in your direction at the sound of your voice, and he finished chewing before responding.

“Doing what?” 

“Taunting me with your stupid muffin.” you were aware of how childish you sounded but hunger had always brought out the irrational side of you. 

“It’s actually quite delicious.” he smirked, ignoring your frustration. 

You groaned in jealousy, “Don’t rub it in.” 

Realization sparked in his eyes. 

“Got the last one didn’t I?” 

You nodded. 

“M’happy to share.” he grinned, breaking off half and holding it out to you. 

“No, really it’s fine. I’m just being annoying.” you waved him off. 

“I’m not annoyed. Really, take it. I’d have to throw it away otherwise.”

Your eyebrows raised at his comment. 

“I’m stuffed.” he explained, patting his stomach twice. 

“I don’t believe you, but I’m starving and this smells incredible.” you responded, accepting the baked good. 

You closed your eyes and let out a satisfied hum after biting into it. 

“Holy shit, this is like the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” 

The boy watched you and laughed at every pleased noise that you released. 

Once you had finished your half you turned back to see him still watching you, he had scooted even closer to you and your knees knocked together at your movement. 

“Thank you, that was amazing. Although it was pretty rich I don’t think I could eat a whole one either.” 

“Your welcome,” when he paused you realized you hadn’t even introduced yourself but still stole half of this guy’s muffin. 

“I’m y/n.” you filled in. 

“Luke.” he returned. 

You nodded and repeated it, testing how it felt on your tongue. 

“Thank you again, Luke.” 

The two of you began talking about, school, work, music, your favorite movies, astrology, anything really. By the time you glanced up from the conversation the cafe was nearly empty and the fire in front of you had burnt out leaving a smoky debris hanging in the air. 

“I think they’re closing.” you said while checking the time on your phone. 

“Fuck, I’ve got a paper due tomorrow.” 

“Sorry, I kept you back.” you apologized, both of you gathering your things as you talked. 

“No, s’not your fault.” he dismissed as you both began to walk to the door.

Standing a few feet away from the exit you could already feel the nip that was permeating through the glass, it sent a chill through your spine making you wiggle your shoulders. As you stared at the floor over the books in your arms, trying to decide what the best way to ensure you would see Luke again was, you heard the buzz of a zipper. You lifted your head to see your new acquaintance removing his arms from the sleeves of his black hoodie. 

“Are you crazy? It’s freezing out there.” 

“I know, you’re shivering.” he answered, swinging the fabric behind your back until it dropped and wrapped around your shoulders. He pulled on the sleeves till they were hanging in place and you watched through your lashes, completely in awe of his concentrated expression. 

“Luke, I can’t wear this you’ll freeze and I can’t just take your clothes.” 

“C’mon of course y’can. I’m warm blooded. I'll be fine and you aren’t taking it. I’m gonna want to come in for one of those muffins tomorrow and you know I can’t eat the whole thing, so you’ll just have to be here to share with me. We meet, we eat, I retrieve my jacket, all is right in the world.” He smiled through his words, attempting to warm you up by rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders quickly. “Think you can do that?” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Excellent. Meet me here at 9:00 tomorrow.” 

You nodded as he pushed the door open and despite him trying to act unaffected you could tell from his rigid stance he was freezing. 

“I’m counting on you alright? Stay warm, y/n.” he reiterated through chattering teeth before exiting the shop. 

Current Time - December 14th 

When they talk about one moment defining your life it seems silly, and unrealistic. One day of your life is hardly even a blip so one minute defining everything seems completely ludacris. You would have never bought into it eight years ago, right up until Luke muttered those three words to you before braving the cold. 

“Stay warm, y/n.”

He said it and you had one of those moments. One of those, “and then everything changed.” moments. 

You had always been sure that your purpose would come to you later in life, maybe you’d have a spiritual awakening while in some foreign country. Maybe you’d read a book that would change your view on everything, or god forbid you’d have a close encounter with death and the epiphany would come then. You would’ve never guessed that a nearly missed encounter with the world’s best muffin and a lanky Australian guy would do it. 

But here you were eight years after the encounter, your hair was longer, the crinkles that appear by your eyes when you smile now linger, and Luke was nowhere to be seen, but some things haven’t changed at all. A half eaten muffin, the comforting cafe, and your unwavering certainty that your life’s purpose was to love and to be loved by Luke Hemmings all remained. 

Seven years ago - March 27th 

The door swung open to a positively beaming Luke, he leaned in to press a swift kiss on your cheek before hurriedly pulling you inside. 

“I have a surprise for you.” 

“You do?” you questioned, taking notice of the subtle burnt smell in the air and the smoky atmosphere of his apartment. 

He nodded excitedly pulling you by the hand into the kitchen where you were met with messy countertops packed full of lumpy and slightly charred muffins. Your mouth fell open and you turned to face your boyfriend who was smiling timidly at you, eyes scanning over your face. 

“I made you our muffins.” he smiled, proudly looking at his work. 

“Wha- how? How did you even get the recipe?” 

“Olive helped me out.” He responded, taking a seat on one of the bar stools by the island. 

“Lu, this is incredible. Thank you.” you praised, moving to stand between his legs. 

“I hope they turned out good. Y’know baking is a lot harder than it looks.” he tutted while unwrapping one for you. “Open up.” he instructed, tapping your chin. 

Your teeth struggled to bite through the dense baked good, and while your taste buds fought with the bitter crumbly substance you questioned whether Luke had actually followed any recipe at all because what you were eating tasted nothing like the warm, gooey, and tart treat that the two of you had come to love. 

You chewed slowly to avoid swallowing and kept your face as neutral as possible. 

“How is it? Good?” he spoke nervously and the little glint of hope in his eyes forced you to swallow it down and paint on a pleased smile. 

“Mmm” you moaned “It's delicious, Luke.” 

“Yeah?” he beamed. 

“Really good.” you nodded, your eyes drifting longingly to the sink. In that moment you would’ve killed for a glass of water. 

“Wow, I mean I thought they’d be alright but this is great. Lemme try.” he brought your muffin up to his mouth and in a panic you snatched it from his hands, squeaking out a small “No!” before shoving the rest of it in your mouth. 

“Babe, there’s plenty, no need to be greedy.” he laughed while unwrapping another. And you really should’ve thought this through because with puffed out cheeks full of possibly the worst muffin in history you took a step back and watched him bite into one. His face twisted in disgust and he quickly spit what he had taken back into the wrapper. 

When he looked back up to you, you were standing there with a full mouth and wide eyes. He cocked his head to the side in confusion, “You enjoyed that?” 

The second you shrugged your shoulders, feigning innocence Luke burst into a sharp cackle, his legs kicking up into the air from the force of his laughter. You took that as an opportunity to run to the trash and rid yourself of the awful taste in your mouth. 

Luke was still struggling to catch his breath while you finished pouring yourself a glass of water. 

“It’s not funny, Lu.” you argued between sips.

“Why didn’t you just spit it out?” he chortled, beckoning you closer with grabby hands. 

“Because, it was so sweet.” you reasoned. 

“Really? I would argue it was more rancid than sweet.” 

“Not the muffin you goon, the gesture.” you elaborated, smacking his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe you ate the whole thing.” 

“Shut up. I was trying to be nice.” you pouted. 

“Hey,” he said, standing and opening his arms. “M’sorry I know.” 

You waddled into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his back. 

“I love you for that.” he sighed, before kissing the top of your head. 

You froze in his hold, those three unexpected words echoing through your head. 

“You what?” 

His chest shook lightly as a laugh fell from his mouth. 

“I love you.” he repeated. It was so nonchalant, as if he’d said it to you a hundred times before. “You alright with that?” 

You nodded before pulling back just enough that you could see his face. 

“I love you.” you returned. 

Luke’s hands cupped your cheeks, a groan passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to your now pouty mouth.

“Say it again.” he pleaded into your mouth. 

“I love you.” you sighed, chasing his lips with your own. 

“And again, and again, and again…” he continued, rewarding you with one lingering peck for each declaration. 

“Mmm” he hummed in content when he decided he was satisfied. “Never stop saying it.” 

Current Time - December 14th 

A whirlwind romance like the one that the two of you had shared was never meant to be sad. It was the kind of love that constantly feels like a cheesy montage full of sweet moments that happens at the end of a rom-com. Unsuccessful baking attempts, cozy study dates, spontaneous weekend trips, hundreds of shared muffins, piggy back rides home from the bar, that’s what made you Luke and y/n. 

The two of you didn’t do well with the hard stuff and it worked because there just wasn’t any. Everything was easy and it felt good. It felt right. 

It had never even occurred to you that the hard stuff was part of any great love, that inevitably one day things would get hard. It really hadn’t occurred to you that pushing through the hard stuff was something that Luke may not be up for. Because you were and you always had been, all in. 

Six years ago - February 17th 

You had gotten home late after a long shift at the library you worked at part time . Luke was sitting on the couch scribbling something in a notebook and taking tiny sips of his steaming cup of tea, too impatient to wait for it to cool properly. 

You’d been listening to an audiobook while organizing the shelves that day and the somber tone of it had seriously dampened your mood. It also made you extremely grateful that you had Luke to cuddle away all your sorrows. 

He had noticed your sad expression the second he saw you and was quick to pull you into his arms and press you for information. 

“What happened baby?” he cooed as you nestled as close into him as physically possible. 

“Sad book.” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Aw, love you shouldn’t let that stuff get to you. S’not real, there’s no need to get upset.” This was something you had heard plenty of times before, seeing as you were an extremely emotional person and felt things strongly. 

“It was so sad though, bubs.” You reasoned that talking through it with someone else might dull the ache that it had left on your taut heartstrings. You explained the whole plot, how the couple had met on a plane and spent their two separate vacations together and along the way fallen in love. Luke would hum or nod every so often indicating he was listening but you knew most of his focus was on the fact that you were tearing up through your explanation. He let his lips rest along your hairline as you got to the climax of the story, speaking through cracks in your voice to tell him that they had lost each other’s numbers on their way back and while the woman was able to move on and find love later in life, the man waited at the airport for years hoping that one day he would see her again. 

Luke’s hand ran through your hair while your head rested on his chest. 

“I don’t think there’s anything romantic about it. It’s just sad.” he concluded. 

“I disagree.” 

“Really?” 

“I’d wait for you.” you confirmed, running your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. 

“Not forever though,” he added. 

“I’d wait until I knew you were happier without me.” 

“Yea, me too.” he agreed. 

“I’d never be happier without you.” 

Current Time - December 14th 

One thing that you never doubted in your relationship was whether or not Luke loved you. You knew he did. It was something that had always been casual between the two of you, it was as much a greeting as it was anything else. 

As the sun rose and broke through your curtains the words to break the silence that lingered from the night before wasn’t “Good morning” it was “I love you.” Before leaving for work instead of an impersonal “Bye!” you shouted “Love you!” through the closing door of your apartment. It was a phrase that had been repeated millions of times, and despite the casualness of it all, it never lost its meaning. 

Even now, five years since you’d last seen him you knew with every bone in your body that no matter where he was right now, half the world away or two blocks downtown, he still loved you. 

Luke always kept his promises, a million times he had promised that he would always love you. And a million times you had promised it right back. 

A hundred years apart wouldn’t change that, let alone five. 

Five years ago - December 13th 

You watched the snow fall from the living room window, what you would normally find peaceful was making you go insane. It had been perpetually silent around your apartment for the past couple of weeks. Luke was hardly ever home, when asked he would tell you that he had a big project at work and needed to teach the new intern how things were done in the office. You hadn’t thought much of it, there were times when you were busy and had to put things with him on the back burner to focus on the uncertainty of work. It had never been an issue because as far as you were concerned things were set between you and Luke. There was the unspoken promise of forever. 

Of course, that didn’t stop you from missing him tons. On this specific occasion the cold weather had left you with clogged sinuses and a bad headache, one that you would typically soothe with a cup of  earl grey from the cafe and an abundance of snuggling. Since Luke wasn’t around to fulfill your touch deprivation you decided that wearing one of his favorite sweatshirts would have to do for now. 

You blindly reached into his drawer to search for it but stopped when your hand caught on a folded piece of paper. You pulled it out and walked to the bed, flicking on the lamp as you sat. Once the light turned on you were able to see it clear as day, two airline tickets to Sydney departing on the 20th and returning  on January 3rd. The two of you had briefly discussed travelling to Australia at some point so you could finally meet his family but nothing had ever been confirmed. 

The naivety that had always been a part of who you were began to connect non-existent dots with hopeful lines. Luke was planning on surprising you with Christmas in Australia with his family. It explained why he was never home, it also explained the secretive phone calls you had started picking up on after he scurried out of bed in the middle of the night a while ago to speak to someone in hushed tones just outside the bedroom door.

That night when he finally got home at nearly eleven you had made sure to leave half a muffin with a note that read, “Miss you, stud muffin. You work too hard. Love you -y/n” on the kitchen counter. From where you laid in bed, you could hear him laugh as he read it aloud. You quickly sat up in bed when the laughs you were reveling in started to sound like sobs. 

The dim lighting in the kitchen didn’t stop you from seeing the tears on Luke’s face as he looked up to where you stood, stunned in the hallway. 

“What’s wrong?” you hurried to him. 

He made a sniffing sound before gathering you in his arms. He held you so tight that if it wasn’t so sincere it might’ve hurt. 

“Lu, what’s going on.” you squeaked out. 

He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair, emitting soft cries every so often. 

“I love you, y/n.” 

“I know. I love you too.” 

“I swear I’ll always love you. I swear.” 

“I know. Hey, Lu I know.” you soothed as his breaths became more labored. 

At some point you had managed to calm him down and coax him into bed, you reasoned that he was just so tired that his feelings got the best of him, something that had happened to you many times before. And honestly you were just happy to be back in his arms once again, so when he was wrapped around you in bed, his hands playing with your hair like they always did when he got anxious, you didn’t think twice about it when he said,

“We need to talk tomorrow, over breakfast. We can go to the café if you want?” 

You nodded against his chest as sleep overtook you, the last thing you heard being “I promise I’ll always love you.”  

Current Time - December 14th 

Your reminiscing was interrupted by a high pitched screech from the front of the cafe. When you followed the sound your eyes landed upon a distressed toddler, about three years old if you to guess, who was pouting up at a tall, gorgeous woman that was apologizing profusely to Olive for her son’s outbreak. You wouldn’t have looked twice at the scene if  it wasn’t for the way Olive’s troubled expression and wide eyes were directed precisely on you. 

The child was screaming through his cries “I want daddy’s muffin!” His face was red and blotchy from tears and the cold weather but didn’t completely overtake his creamy skin tone that complimented his familiar blue eyes. He was an adorable kid, a full head of blonde ringlets and chubby cheeks that you were sure turned a light pink when he smiled. 

He kind of reminded you of Luke. When the thought entered your head you were quick to dismiss it though, because if you were being honest most things reminded you of Luke. 

“I’m so sorry about this. He isn’t normally so loud, it’s just that my husband loves these muffins and he promised Sammy one.” you heard the gorgeous woman say. 

“It’s fine, the cranberry orange muffin is a big hit around here. They sell out almost everyday.” Olive responded, her eyes unbreaking from yours. 

“Yea that’s what Luke always tells me.” 

Five years ago - December 14th 

The walk to the café felt longer than it typically did and you had no idea why, for some reason you didn’t notice that Luke was dragging his feet. Maybe it was because you were sure that this impromptu breakfast date was to tell you of the surprise Christmas trip to Australia. Maybe it was because any amount of extra time you got to spend holding Luke’s hand in your own you considered a gift. 

When you finally arrived you were quick to usher him to your favorite table, one that was secluded in the corner, enough to have a bit of privacy but also allowed you to people watch on slow days and have telepathic conversations with Olive from across the room. 

You noticed that Luke wasn’t eating after a few minutes, his muffin half sat untouched in front of him and his nervous demeanor was driving you crazy. 

“I have to admit something.” you finally said, tired of the silence. 

Luke nodded for you to continue but refused to meet your eyes as you spoke. 

“I know about Australia, I found the tickets in your drawer so if that’s what you're so nervous about, there’s no need. Of course I’ll go with you, you have no idea how excited I am to meet your mom, she can finally show me all those baby pictures that she’s always telling me about.” you were so busy picturing your potential trip to Luke’s hometown that you didn’t notice Luke’s teared up eyes and anxious tapping. 

“Y/n, the tickets aren’t for-” he cut himself off before the approaching crack in his voice could prevail. “I met someone.” 

“Okay?” 

You didn’t even know what that meant, he met someone? You met people all the time, what does that have to do with the trip?  You lifted your mug to take a sip while you waited for him to continue.

“I mean I-I have feelings for someone, uh someone else.” 

You didn’t even feel your grip release, you didn’t hear the shattering noise, you didn’t feel the scorching liquid seep through your top onto your skin. 

Luke was leaving you. He fell in love with someone else. It was serious enough that he was bringing her home. Luke was leaving you. Luke was leaving you. Luke was leaving you.

“I don’t understand.” The crying had already begun, and although it didn’t surprise Luke he couldn’t bear to watch it. He stared at the spilled tea and shards of glass. The entire cafe’s eyes were on you and you didn’t even notice all you could see was that Luke’s weren’t. 

“Look at me.” you pleaded. There was a time when he would’ve seen your face, seen how distressed you were and gone back on everything solely because it hurt him too much to see you hurt. 

When did that stop? Why hadn’t you noticed? 

“I love you y/n, really I do. But I love her too.” 

“You love her more.” you didn’t even try to phrase it as a question, there was no point, you already knew the answer. He must’ve loved her more because he was leaving you for her. Luke was leaving you. 

Your acknowledgement of his feelings didn’t make it hurt any less when he didn’t deny it. Luke was leaving you. 

You sat in silence for at least five minutes, it felt like years. Luke watched you cry, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms, and sway you back and forth until you stopped. He wouldn’t do that because it was selfish, it would ease his troubles more than yours, he deserved to see how his hurtful actions affected the one he swore to shield from any and all pain. 

“I’ll have everything out of the apartment by the end of the week.” 

The end of the week? You had planned on spending the rest of your life with him and he was telling you that he would essentially be out of your life by the end of the week. Luke was leaving you. None of it felt real. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I love you.” 

Watching him leave felt surreal, you couldn’t hear anything but your blood pumping, you hardly took any notice when Olive rushed to your table and pulled you into her embrace. 

Luke left you. 

Current time - December 14th 

You could feel his presence as soon as he stumbled out of the bathroom.

How could you have missed him coming in?

You dragged your eyes up his body from his feet, and when they fell upon his face it was like someone had pressed play after fast forwarding through the years that had been taken from you. You weren’t 23 anymore, and Luke certainly wasn’t either. He’d always had a strong build, but he held himself differently now. He was confident and collected, very sure of himself. He had a bit of scruff lining his jaw but you could tell it was well kept and intentional and a pair of black rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. You reacquainted yourself with his appearance from your spot in the corner. 

With each subtle change you catalogued in your brain, vivid images danced through your head, like a kaleidoscope of what could’ve been. You saw lazy Sunday mornings on the couch leisurely sipping coffee, the open windows next to you bringing in a sweet breeze making the house smell like fresh grass after it rains. You saw yourself pushing a stroller through a park, Luke chasing behind one of your little ones just a few feet ahead. You saw roadtrips, vacations, theme parks, crowded family dinners, trick or treating, white gowns, and wedding cakes. You saw binkies, and bottles, tangled sheets, ruffled hair, pecks on the forehead, lunch boxes, and I love you notes. 

The last scene you saw, one that felt so real you could’ve sworn you were really there, started with Luke sitting on the floor surrounded in wrapping paper a toddler curled up in his lap. He wore flannel pajama pants and a ratty shirt he had purchased at the concert you went to for your third date. He took sips from his mug of lukewarm coffee every so often, and you were sure if you got close enough you’d be able to smell it on his breath, not that you would mind. His curls were grown out more than he typically liked them, they were messy from sleep and obstructing his vision slightly. Just as you reached out to brush them from his forehead, it was like you had been thrown backwards by a force strong enough to make your stomach drop. 

Reality. 

You could still see Luke from where you stood but he was so far away now. You reached your hand out again, gasping in shock when it hit a sheet of glass, you knocked against it firmly but nothing happened. It was like a window where you watched the scene unfold. A woman you had been in the same position as not seconds ago stood up and revealed her face. It was his wife, she handed Luke a small gift bag and waited patiently as he opened it. He acknowledged the gift, a framed photo of the two of them and leaned forward to press a thank you kiss to her lips. 

“Stop!” you called.

No one can hear you. 

“Luke, I’m right here.” you yelled, slamming an open hand to the glass. 

Hot tears fell from your cheeks as you continued to knock and shout. 

“Lu, please.”

As he pulled away from the kiss a grin plastered his face. And it hit you, he was happy. He really was happy. 

Realization of the thing you dreaded the most in the world happened quickly, but not painlessly. Luke’s eyes flicked to your own, he saw you through the window. He saw you calling for him, crying for him, begging for him. He saw you and then he looked away. 

And reality snapped you back yet again, right into the present moment. You were in your café, staring at your empty mug, your face felt hot and wet. When had you started to cry? You reached a shaky hand out for a napkin to wipe your tears, but ended up knocking the mini poinsettia pot in front of you over instead. A crash echoed through the café and everyone turned their attention to you and your frantic demeanor. Everyone, even Luke. 

You forced your eyes up from the glass that sat shattered on the white tablecloth with slow movements and shallow breaths until they finally found the culprit, the reason for your pain. You could see right through the light blue of his eyes, shock and bittersweet nostalgia pooled in the cerulean waves. 

Just like you were suddenly 29 and hurt when you saw Luke. He was suddenly 20 and enamored when he saw you. 

He physically winced while taking notice of the black streaks that cascaded down your cheeks. It reminded him of leaving you. It was all his fault. 

He met your gaze with a desperate one of his own, silently praying that you could still read him well enough to understand. 

His eyes released unspoken declarations with every slow blink. 

I can’t believe I’m seeing you. I miss you. I still love you. I’ll always love you. 

You can’t be here right now. I’m with my family. I’m happy now. I’m happy without you. 

Every silent, stabbing confession all summed up into one that you had been afraid of for the entire eight years that Luke Hemmings had stolen from you. 

I love you, but somehow that stopped being enough.

The place was silent. All eyes on you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

You weren’t quite sure who you were apologizing to or what for,  it could’ve been to Olive for making yet another mess that she would end up cleaning. It could’ve been to all the customers you disrupted when you broke the flower pot. Or Luke’s son who you had stolen a muffin from. Or maybe his wife, that you had been demonizing in your head for years, seeing her only as the woman who stole the love of your life. It could’ve been to Luke, you were sorry you hadn’t taken him seriously, he was in love and he had a family and you were still waiting around for the day he decided to come back for you. The day that would never come. 

Deep down though, you knew you were saying it to yourself. Eight years is a long time, you had stopped living for yourself a long time ago. You did miss Luke, of course you did but maybe part of the hole in your chest that you had been so desperately trying to fill, was yourself. You really missed you. You without Luke. How could you have forgotten about her? 

“I have to go.” this time you knew exactly who you were talking to and as your feet carried you to the door you didn’t even contemplate turning around when Luke’s voice broke through the silence of the café to say,         

 “Y/n, wait!” 

You kept walking, past the stunned patrons, past Olive, past Luke. You kept walking until you were sure that no one would catch up. You just kept walking because after all this time you were so done waiting.

#luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos imagines #luke 5sos #5sos one shots #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings drabble #luke hemmings one shots #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x fem!reader #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings au

[hournites]

I have a potential prompt for a one shot if you are interested.

Would you write a fic where Rick (and the rest of the JSA) are worried about Beth but she finally shows up safely? Everyone is so relieved, especially Rick... so much so that he goes to hug her but he forgets that his hourglass hasn't completely run out yet and squeezes her too tight. Beth is all like "Uhh, Rick? I can't breathe!" So he quickly (and awkwardly) lets her go.

I think it could be slightly angsty but also cute.

The Disappearing Act

They meet back up behind the garage as planned. Yolanda slinks in from above a roof with Courtney blazing in on the seat of her staff behind her, not nearly as concerned for stealth.

Rick shakes his head at the two. “Where’s Jennie and Beth?”

“I’m here!” They all raise their heads up at the sound of her voice floating in the air.

"Wait." She quickly powers down, setting down her lantern as she shakes out her hand. “Where’s Beth?”

“What do you mean?” Rick questions. “She’s supposed to be with you.”

Jennie glances up from her ring with a sharp breath and glowing eyes. “No, she left me to find Courtney after you called.”

Courtney swerves around. “Me? I didn’t call her!”

Yolanda raises an eyebrow. “What call? I was with Court the whole time, she didn't call.”

“I don’t know, she got it through her goggles, so she left.” Jennie took a step back. “I would’ve gone with her, but we were meeting up here now anyway. I thought she’d be here.”

“So Beth’s gone?” Courtney cries. The cosmic staff flares up as she gets more agitated. “How could you lose Dr. Mid-Nite?”

“I didn’t lose her, Courtney, I trust Beth to make her own decisions. This isn’t my fault!”

“Alright!” Rick snaps, stepping between the two of them before things get out of hand. “It’s only been five minutes. How about we try actually calling her?”

Yolanda’s already on it, pressing a hand to the side of her helmet to get a signal through the coms as she stalks. “Dr. Mid-Nite, It’s Wildcat--Do you copy? Or hear me? Anything? Mid-Nite? Beth? Hellooo?”

Rick pulls down his hood and rakes his hand through his hair. “Where were you when this happened, Jennie?”

Jade light leaves Jennie’s eyes as she backs against a wall, holding herself stiffly. “I-I don’t remember."

"Well." Rick gives her five seconds. "Think harder."

"Okay! Okay! Um...I think we were near the office building for The American Dream.”

“Was anyone suspicious with you? Or around you?”

“What kind of question is that? Why would Jennie be with anyone suspicious?”

Courtney rolls her eyes. “I meant did she notice anything?”

“Beth this is Yolanda, this isn’t funny anymore. I’m serious, please say something....”

“No! I don’t think so!”

Rick spins on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Courtney yells after him. “We can’t split up now! What if there’s actually a villain out there?”

“That’s exactly why we need to find her instead of wasting more time.” Rick flips his hourglass. “You get Pat. I’m going to the American Dream with Jennie.”

“I’ll stay here,” Yolanda tells them. She whacks the side of her helmet again. "Dr. Mid-Nite, do you read me?"

Courtney points out her helmet isn’t broken. It’s just Beth not answering, which doesn't get well received by any of them.

"Geez!" Courtney hugs the staff to her chest, with a grimace, properly scolded. “Get Pat and shut up. I got it!”

~.~

Pat jogs out of the Pit Stop, wiping his sweaty brow with a rag when he hears the loud noise coming in from outside. “Did you find her?”

Rick kicks at the garbage cans lined up at the curb.

“I know you’re stressed.” Pat surveys the trash now littered along the sidewalk. “But you’re picking that up. And replacing those bins.”

"Fine!" Rick kicks another one.

Pat’s mouth thins into a straight line, evidently not being listened to.

“That would be a no,” Yolanda fills in with a frown. “Courtney’s circling around her neighbourhood. Pat checked the school. I’m still not getting anything from the coms.”

Rick lists off his search efforts in anxious detail, counting them out on his gloved fingers. “I tried the tunnels since her goggles don’t work down there. The ISA lair was empty. The cells were unlocked. I knocked down Grundy’s old cage, nothing.” He's frantic, tugging at the base of his hourglass, as though getting choked by his remaining time. “There’s nothing! I thought I could find that her goggles fell off or one of her gloves, anything—”

"Dr. Mid-Nite? Please answer. Make a noise if you can hear this. This is Wildcat, are you okay? Dr. Mid-Nite?"

“And I went back to the last place I saw her.” Jennie wilts, sinking down to sit on the steps. She wraps her arms around her knees, the lantern firmly placed at her feet. “This is my fault.”

Yolanda gives up on reaching Beth for a moment, taking a seat beside Jennie to console her.

“I should’ve paired with her,” Rick mutters, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. “We always do these stupid patrols together.”

“The patrols are not stupid!” Courtney butts in with a scoff. The Cosmic Staff charges at Rick in her defense. Unthinking, he swats it away with his strength, sending it flying out in the other direction.

“Hey! Don’t hurt the staff!”

“Whatever, Court!” Rick snaps. “Beth is actually missing and none of us have a clue as to where she is, we’re not going to be talking about your staff’s feelings—”

Yolanda wrings her hands and gets up abruptly. “Maybe the goggles malfunctioned again and she got lost somewhere.”

“She’s literally biked to every square foot of this town.”

“The goggles malfunctioning is a good theory, Yolanda.” Rick opens his mouth to retort and Pat continues before he can start another fight, “I’ve already given Barb a call in case she calls our house. Girls, why don’t you check your cell phones?”

The girls file back into the Pit Stop. Rick hovers by the door, reluctant to go in with them.

“Pat? Why aren’t you worried?” The tone borders on accusatory. Rick’s face is still covered by the dark mask, blending into the dark night, but his concern is transparent through his eyes.

Pat sighs. “It’s only been 2 hours. Beth is a smart girl.”

“She’s a smart, small, pretty girl in Blue Valley. A town full of murderers.”

“I’m well aware of that, Rick.” He pulls the rag out to wipe his face again. “But freaking out and hurting people’s feelings isn’t going to help anybody find her.”

“But—” Rick turns his face away, twisting the chain hanging from his neck again. “Sitting here isn’t helping either!”

We’re gathering clues and searching the town. I didn’t say we’re giving up.” Pat takes his time. “Look, I know you care about—”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if something bad happens to her!” He gestures at himself. “Or if this runs out and I can’t help her. It isn’t like Beth to….go silent.”

Pat claps a hand over the shoulder of Rick’s golden cape. “I know.”

“Pat!” Yolanda bursts out through the side door. Courtney and Jennie quick at her heels. “She’s okay! I heard her voice through the helmet! She’s on her way back!"

“What?” Rick shot up. “Where?”

Though he doesn’t have to look far. She’s at the corner, stumbling in her haste to get to them in the dark. The girls all scream and run and fly out to her, ignoring Pat’s insistence that Courtney and Jennie should at least try to conceal themselves in the middle of the road.

Rick sits back down heavy on the step, flooded with relief.

When Beth makes her way over, Pat checks to make sure she’s not wounded, but she waves him off, yanking down her green cowl. “I’m fine, Mr. Dugan. Just thirsty.”

“I’ll get you water!” Jennie practically shouts, rushing to the kitchenette inside the garage. “We’re never splitting up again!”

“What happened?” Pat exclaims. “We’ve searched the whole town!”

Her eyes slide to Rick and the glowing sand in his hourglass.

“You were all looking for me?”

“Yeah,” says Rick. “I was about to throw up.”

“Someone hacked into my goggles and faked Courtney’s call.” Beth cringes. “The Shade uh...wanted to talk?”

“The Shade?”

Courtney's curls whipped back violently. “He WHAT?”

“I’m okay!” Beth reassures them all again when they panic. “He messed up my goggles so I couldn’t use them until he finished what he had to say. He even dropped me off in his car by Richie’s when we were done talking.”

Courtney prompts, impatient, “And he talked to you about…?”

Beth sighs. “He’s giving Barbara an ultimatum about the Zarick artifacts.”

Yolanda grips onto her arm. “He kidnapped you to make a business arrangement?”

“He let me go afterwards!” Beth drops her gaze to her brown boots, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she sees how long she’s been gone. “He really wants that wand, Mr. Dugan.”

“I’m sure,” Pat says, rolling his eyes. “Barb and I will worry about the Zarick stuff tomorrow. We’re glad that you’re safe.”

Jennie returns with water and a snack. Beth takes a sip then excuses herself to change out of her Dr. Mid-Nite costume. When she returns, she settles next to Rick, who hasn’t said a word since their short exchange.

“So…” she starts timidly. “You were gonna throw up?”

Rick pulls her in for an embrace. She gasps. “Only you could have a whole civil conversation with a supervillain and walk out unscathed.”

“Rick! You’re crushing me!”

“Shit!” He lets go immediately when he feels the hard edge of the hourglass glowing in the wedge between them, reminding Rick his hugs right now would hurt. “Shit! Sorry! God, I’m sorry. I just didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Beth throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. Rick closes his eyes, eased. He’ll let her do the holding. “I thought you were going to be mad.”

“What?” He turns to look at her. She’s so close, still hugging him, he has to look away. “No, I was worried. I turned the tunnels upside down for you.”

“Oh.” Beth lets go, but taps on the glass as the final grains of sand slide through the pinhole. “Really?”

“I’d do it again.” He clears his throat and adds, “For all of you, I mean. If you disappeared, um…” He trails off, unsure of why he’s feeling so awkward.

But Beth merely nods, seeming to understand. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” They both look down at his chest, watching the hourglass to power down. Beth shoots him a timid smile. “Want to try that hug again?”

“Sure.” He stands up and extends out a hand, reeling her in.

#hournite #fluff #angst #yes i can do both #stargirl #beth chapel #rick x beth #stargirl spoilers #hn fic #rick tyler #jsa #thanks for the prompt!!!!

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕠𝕣 ~

The mystical bookshop on the opposite end of the street seldom had customers but your boredom was getting the best of you, having just moved to a small town without any acquaintances. The last thing you expected when entering the dusty bookshop was a handsome boy glimpsing at you from behind his glasses. Maybe this innocent boy could cure your boredom? 

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤: SMUT ; bookshopowner!Jeongin x fem!reader. Virgin!jeongin, switch!reader x switch!Jeongin, strangers to friends, blowjob, handjob, penetrative sex, unsafe sex (careful pls), light humiliation, corruption kink, nicknames, orgasm (m/f), cum (outside), mentions of possession. 

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.7 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: This is a collab with a bunch of other (hella talented) writers [ @milkym00n​ @seungmoomin​ @gothicstay​ @hyunsluvv​ @lilixeu​ @moonlit-lixie​ @binniesbrat​ ] so please read their works right here!! (love u guys and thank u Serenity for including me ><)

ALSO! thank you guys so much for 400 followers ack i wanna hug every single one of you~!

The ivy green building on the corner was rarely visited. It’s white pillars with gold swirly capitals looked inviting as you had just moved to the apartment complex across the street and were in need of some entertainment, having moved to a new town all by your self. Through the cloudy show window you saw litterary classics leaning against small mahogany painting aisle and crystals in all different shapes and sizes, all scattered across a velvet maroon piece of cloth. 

You leaned against the window, sheilding your eyes from the sun using your hands as you looked inside but to your disappointment you saw nothing but your own reflection. The warmth of the sun radiated on your back as a cool breeze stinged your cheeks. ‘It sure would be nice to sit in the small shop and read’ you thought as you wrapped your hands around the chipped golden door handle, pulling it down and being exposed to the smell of bound books.

The bell above the old wooden door rang as you entered through the rusty ivy green door, embellished with small colored glass panes. 

“Welcome to I.N bookshop, how can i-” 

Jeongin peeked from behind a big book, fascinated over how such a cute girl had entered his dusty little shop. His round glasses covered most of his face,  light pink cheeks hiding behind them. Putting the aged leather book away he stood up from his seat and scratched his thick, slightly curly black locks. This situation was unusual to say the least. The shop was after all only sought out by elders that wanted to find the books they had read in their teenage years when youth still glowed around them. 

A smile spread across your face as you saw the young boy shifting his eyes over the piles of grubby books, some of them piling up hindering you from coming closer. He blushed upon the state of the store but promptly walked up to you, keeping his eyes glued to the creaky floorboards underneath his feet. 

“Oh, hi u-uhm... I’m Jeongin! Nice to meet you” he said sheepishly, eventually sneaking a glance of your cute face. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m y/n! I just moved across the street a couple of days ago and have just been staring at the shop from my window. Thought I might...c-check it out”.

You felt a shyness creep up on you, shifting your skirt slightly as you felt Jeongin’s looming eyes on your cleavage, silence widened over the small wooden cabinet-like shop. 

Jeongin snapped back into reality after you looked at him questionably, your head tilted as you tried to cover yourself from his predatory gaze with your hands. The curly haired boy gulped before shoving his delicate veiny hands into the pockets of his black dress pants. 

“Uhm.. so.. w-what do you usually read?” he asked while peering up. Looking into the same direction you saw a cozy half loft nuzzled into the far right of the shop, a corroded ladder being the only way to get up there. 

“I like pretty much anything,,, d-do you have any favorites?” you asked shyly as your gaze returned to the floor, seeing books piled up around your feet. 

He laughed timidly as he made his way over to the rusty ladder, stepping over heaps of untouched books and guiding you to do the same, kicking and pushing some piles away.

“I usually sit up there and read so all of my favorites are hidden from the customers heh...” he anxiously grabbed the back of his neck, looking down to the left as he spoke. 

“We can sit up there if you like!” Jeongin added, his voice getting excited since he gets to talk about his favorite literary works with you! Shyly, you nodded as your hands wrapped around both sides of the ladder, stepping onto the first step. Cautiously you climbed up and with every step you could see more of the loft unfolding in front of your eyes, your gaze on floor level. Jeongin decided to help you by holding the ladder, making sure you didn’t fall but this soon proved to be a mistake. He looked up with the intention of seeing how far up you’d gotten but his eyes landed underneath your skirt, your light pink lace panties on display for his puppy eyes to see. His breath hitched upon seeing the outline of your cunt and his hormones were flying like sparks, causing a painful erection to form inside his boxers. 

After what seemed like an eternity of fumbling on the ladder you finally stood on the half loft, carefully peeking down to see Jeongin still gripping the ladder while his cheeks were flaming red. 

“uhm,,, you coming up or..?”

He cleared his throat as he looked up, seemingly lost in thoughts. 

“Yeah,,, totally” he said awkwardly while climbing up. You offered him your hand as he neared the loft which he grabbed, seizing the opportunity to hold your soft hand that were enhanced by small gold rings and a bracelet. His heart was in his throat as your touch effected him more than he thought. He coughed to clear the nervosity from his gut but to no avail. 

When his hands travaled down to his pockets that’s when you noticed the tent between his two legs. A thousand thoughts flashed through your mind as your body came to a standstill. Should I run away and never look back? Should I help the poor boy? After all, he seemed awfully lonely enclosed in these 4 walls all day long and so were you, not having anyone to contact in the new city. 

Jeongin noticed your stiff figure, the light mumbling of a radio being heard from the white speakers on a small coffee table next to two old mustard yellow armchairs. Your eyes eventually met his. His gaze was as sweet as honey and his musky scent enhanced by the aroma of the ancient books. You felt yourself tensing up, your crossed legs clenching as you broke the eye contact with the fox-like boy. His eyes hooded whilst being filled with a bashful aura. 

“Kiss me”

You blurt out without even thinking. The neediness in your cunt growing wetter by every minute. Jeongin’s eyes brown orbs widened. 

“W-what...here? Now..?” 

“Don’t act dumb. I see...t-that” you glanced down at his erection for a split second, gulping as you saw the size. 

Flustered, Jeongin tried to cover himself from your eyes as a hot flash descended down his body. His blushed state, his innocent eyes hiding behind those black wired glasses and his veiny hands peeking through the paws of his dark blue sweater made you just wanna slam him against a wall, taking his innocence from him. 

You inched closer to him, his face in level with yours due to your similar heights. Your head tilted slightly, a pleading expression contorting across your features as he stared at your plush lips, wide eyed. His delicate hands form into hard fists, trying his best to not let his loneliness get to him. 

But he’s too weak. 

Cupping your crimson cheeks, he pulls you into a deep kiss and without hesitating you kiss him back on his precious coral lips. Your hands explored his body and to your surprise a toned abdomen was hiding beneath his warm appearance. Coaxing his tongue, you lick his bottom lip, moaning into the kiss as his hands stroked your back and gropes your ass. Heat rose to your cheeks as your cunt was sopping, having not been touched like this for a while but you weren’t the only one reacting this way. Your hands wandered down before momentarily stopping, you hesitated before palming the dark haired boy through his slacks but was pleased once you earned a moan from his petal-like lips. You pulled away from the fiery kiss, smirking as you spoke in a slightly hoarse voice.

“Sensitive babyboy, I barely touched you” 

He stiffens in your arms that were wrapped around his waist, his eyes settling anywhere but on yours. With a cocky smile you grab his tiny face by the jaw and force him to look into your lustful eyes. 

“You’re a virgin, right?” you asked with a smile on your lips.

“N-no,, no I’m not!” Jeongin huffed out, visibly flustered. 

“I don’t like people that lie”.

Your cold voice scared Jeongin but the fear added fuel to his neediness. He needed you. You pushed him down, the boy landing in one of the dusty armchairs with a thump.

“Y-yes I am a...v-virgin” 

He hesitated uttering those words, his lip quivering from the sexual tension but he also felt vulnerable, not having anyone to talk to about such matters. Jeongin watched you with hungry eyes as you pulled your shirt over your head, disheveling your hair in the process.

“What you staring at? Come on, off with your clothes” you said as you pointed towards his member. He obeyed in an instant but not losing eye contact with the soft skin that you revealed once you stepped out of your skirt that was now pooling on the floor, leaving you with nothing than your bra and panties. Jeongin’s hands were shaking as he tried to unbutton his pressed slacks. You rolled your eyes at his pitiful attempt. 

Your knees hit the wooden flooring as you helped him remove his pants, Jeongin bucking his hips slightly causing you to pull them down the entire way. Embarrassingly enough his precum had already created a wet stain on his boxers which made you snicker. You trace along his clothed dick with your fingertip, feeling him pulsating under your touch as blood accumilated between his legs. 

“How cute. Babyboy is throbbing from anticipation, isn’t that right?” you cooed to which he glared at you, mad for being humiliated by someone he barely knew but secretly enjoying it in his perverted fantasies. 

Upon pulling down his boxers you were greeted by his erect member that was barely touching his clothed abdomen. Your mouth watered from the sight, how fine purple veins snaked up his shaft and how his sensitive carmoisine tip glistened with a droplet of precum trickling down. You glanced up at his slightly puffy face and he nodded as if you had just asked him for premission. Using the tip of your tongue you lapped up his precum like an animal, eager to taste his sweetness as you pursed your lips and inserted only the tip into your wet mouth. 

Jeongin’s knuckles whitened as he gripped onto the armrests for dear life, his orgasm already looming around him due to his inexperienced nature. Your hands stroke his inner thigh wanting him to relax but that was the last thing on Jeongin’s mind. If he relaxed he would cum faster and that would be too much embarrassment to handle in one day, especially in front of you. Your pursed scarlet lips cascaded down his shaft as your hand wrapped around the part that wouldn’t fit down your throat. Small whimpers were heard from the boy with glasses everytime you lifted your head upwards, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip before plunging down again, all whilst your hand jerked off his girthy base. It didn’t take long before the poor boy was unable to controll the lewd noises that pierced your ear like the sound of music. For his every moan you got wetter, those pathetic whines of his causing you to dig your nails into his thighs, holding back from marking him up with hickies and showing him that he’s your new playtoy. 

The high-pitched moans mixed with the subtle murmuring of the radio still going in the background, the sloppy sound of your spit as you bobbed your head intensely driving Jeongin closer to his release. Just as he felt him twitch between your cheeks you pulled off, kissing his tip before looking up at him with doe eyes. The expression that haunted his face was priceless. You smiled at his bedraggled state, his twinkling eyes and heaving breath signaling that he was lost in pleasure moments ago. 

“Liked it, babyboy?” 

He nodded in agreement before grabbing your narrow wrist and standing you up, pushing you against a bookcase causing a couple of lightweight books to fall on either side of you. His mouth was dangerously close to your ear, his body close enough to radiate heat.

“But don’t call me that”. Jeongin’s voice changed, now more raspy. 

“Aw, does babyboy get shy when I call him that?” you ridiculed him but soon regretted it when he raised your eyebrow at you before turning you around and bending you down, you hands grabbing onto the shelf. 

“Hey! You can’t ju-”

Your moan cut you off as the tip of his cock entered you with ease, your juices almost dripping down your leg from the arousal as he pushed your panties to the side. Jeongin hissed as his member advanced into your throbbing pussy, desperate to feel you around his sensitive shaft. Small whimpers spilled out your mouth as he felt much bigger than he seemed, moving at a slow pace yet still hitting your g-spot with every thrust. His cold laugh sent shivers down your back where Jeongin’s hand was stragically placed in order to keep you bent down, the other hand wrapped around your hip.

“You’ve been fantisasing about this, haven’t you?” he groaned to which you tsked. 

“I think you’re talking about yourself, babyboy. With your nose in those books all day you surely must have read heaps of erotica.” 

He slammed his hips against yours making you mewl out in pleasure, trying to hold onto the shelf but only knocking down more books.

“Don’t c-call me that!” he defended himself from the shameful nickname you had given him but you couldn’t help but to laugh. 

“You’re adorable, you know that babyboy?”. Your gibbling laughter annoyed Jeongin causing him to push you back, his big hands wrapping gently around your neck and choking you slightly making your high-pitched whimpers more frequent. His pace quickened as he was nearing his orgasm and you could once again feel him twitching, only this time he was twitching inside your sopping cunt which further caused the knot in your stomach to tighten. 

“J-jeongin,,,f-fuck”. Shutting your eyes you saw a spectrum of colors fly by as your head spinned from the impending orgasm. The dark haired boy smirked, his eyebrows furrowed as he thrusted into your squelching cunt, the filthy noise completely muffling out the babble of the radio. Being his first time he was annoyingly good, pleasuring you in the ways you were longing for. 

A broken moan erupted as the hand around your neck descended down, stopping for a moment to give your nipples a twist before settling at your swollen clit. The fast circling movement of his long fingers paired with his relentless thrusting made you see stars behind your stinging eyes. You were unraveling at the seams in his touch but so did Jeongin, his final thrusts sloppy as a string of whines left his soft lips. 

Your legs gave up on you when you finally released, the knot in your core melting away as your juices coated Jeongin’s aroused dick. Jeongin crashed his hips against you one last time, the impact causing your butt to bounce against him. He pulled out quickly, dick twitching in his hand before his hot semen ran down your buttcheek as you were panting, holding onto anything on the dusty and creaky wooden shelf. 

Jeongin last cries echoed in your ears as he milked his dick out of every cumdrop, his glasses slipping off the tip of his nose. The hot substance quickly cooling off while trickling down as you tried to stand up, putting a hand onto Jeongin’s shoulder. 

“Y-you good?” he stuttered, scared that he’d hurt you.

“Yeah... think so” was what you managed to say before falling into Jeongin’s sturdy embrace. He let out a surprised squeal as he caught you, snickering quietly at your struggle to hold yourself up. 

“I guess I’m your first friend in town now” he smiled shyly as you looked at him naively. Blushing profusely, you looked deep into his dangerously sweet eyes that were rimmed by his thin wire glasses.

“I guess you are”. 

#stray kids smut #skz smut #jeongin smut #stray kids fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #skzsmut #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #straykidsxreader #skz x you #skz x stay #skz x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin x y/n #jeongin x you #i.n smut #i.n x you #i.n x reader #i.n x y/n #kpop fanfic #switch!straykids #switch!skz

[redrobin-detective]

Starlit Vigil

Dannymay Day 4: Stars _____________________________

Everything has a story to it, a tale interwoven into it’s very being from it’s birth to it’s death. Sometimes the mystery of the story is as much a story in and of itself. 

Scientists and researchers can’t say when the constellation first appeared in the night sky. It could be seen above Antarctica, near where the edge of the continent meets the Indian Ocean. It confounded a great many people as stars simply didn’t appear out of nowhere. But these did, slowly over the course of several decades sometimes years apart but two appeared within hours of each other. Each new star, eight in total, had a glistening, almost unnatural twinkle to them. The constellation was named Mnemosyne after the Grecian goddess of memory and the stars eight of her nine daughters, better known as the Muses. 

You’ve always had your eyes turned towards the stars and Mnemosyne in particular had always captured your attention. You can’t really explain what it is about those stars that speak to you. Maybe it’s sheer impossibility of their existence. Perhaps it’s the particular beauty of these stars, sometimes appearing to shift in shape and change colors. Or it could be the story behind the stars, the mystery that couldn’t be solved and so imagination filled in the holes left behind.

They say there was a great king, hundreds of years ago. A king who was powerful and kind and helped create the world as we know it. The land of the dead exists and certain people can interact with those beyond it. Technology and understanding have advanced dramatically and, while no life would ever be perfect, there was a general sense of peace that could felt in this world and the next. This king loved our world so much it’s said he plucked the greatest jewels he could find and placed them in the stars where he could watch over and cherish them forever. It’s a sentiment you can understand. 

You study astronomy in school and when you’re given a chance to travel to the Antarctic Circle to study Mnemosyne, you can’t say yes fast enough. The bitter cold and isolation is a small price to pay to see your favorite constellation up close. Maybe when you see it with your own eyes, you can unravel some of the questions people have been asking over the years. Why the goddess of Memory? Why are the stars named after the Muses but missing the muse of astronomy, Urania? What is the true story behind the supernaturally bright stars that appeared out of nowhere?

It’s hard to sleep during the day, partially because it goes against your normal circadian rhythm but you’re also too excited for night to come. For the stars to come out. You bundle up in the warmest clothes, pack your cameras and notebooks and throw the highest quality telescope you can carry over your shoulder. Arriving at the best site for star gazing, you are so delighted by the clear skies and sparkling stars that it takes you an extra moment to realize that you’re not alone.

At first, you think it’s one of the many researchers conducting studies at the pole but it’s soon apparent that this is someone new. Their hair is stark white, almost appearing one with the blustering wind as it’s blown around. You can’t see what they’re wearing because a thick white cape covers them entirely; it has the consistency of freshly fallen snow. Atop their head floats a crown made of pure, crystalline ice. Your eyes widen behind your protective goggles. The existence of ghosts was common knowledge by now but it’s another thing to see one up close. You turn to leave, before the spirit notices you.

“Don’t leave,” he says quietly but despite the roaring of the wind, you can hear him perfectly clear. “You came to watch the stars too, I don’t mind. Mnemosyne is my favorite.”

“Mine too,” you say back without even thinking. “I would love to know their stories.” The ghost turns to smile at you and his eyes are a bright, glowing green without any pupils or sclera. 

“Come, I’ll tell you about them.” You know you shouldn’t. While most spirits aren’t malicious, this one exudes a power you can’t even imagine. But you find yourself stepping closer anyway. You want to hear the stories of the stars and his smile is the warmest thing you’ll find for miles. Somehow you know this ghost won’t harm you. He points up at Mnemosyne and your twin gazes stare up in wonder. 

“They say souls and stars are made of the same ingredients. When I was a boy, I loved this thought. There was something comforting in knowing that, no matter where I went, that I could carry the stars within me,” the ghost explains, looking at you joyfully. 

“But unlike stars, souls are mortal, impermanent,” he says, his smile turning sad. “So I thought, why not put a soul into a star? Then it could last for eons.” He turns back to the stars with a melancholic expression. “Danielle was the first, my little sister. She was always fragile and after only a decade of life, one day she just broke. Her core was too damaged to become a full ghost so I offered her another way to live on. I took the brightness of her smile and made it into a star, into Euterpe. She was the muse of lyrics and poetry, they say she was the ‘bringer of delight’. It suited Danielle.”

“My enemy died next,” the ghost continues. “He hurt me and, moreover, hurt the ones I loved. But he was the only one who truly understood me. His existence comforted me no matter how much bad blood existed between us. His life was full of misfortune, most of it self-inflicted but his fear of death pulled on my heart. My last move in our battle was to make him a star as well, Melpomene, the muse of tragedy. I put him far away from Danielle, I think he’d hurt her.”

“My parents passed a few decades later,” the ghost whispers. “Mom went first, in her sleep. Dad always followed her example so it wasn’t a surprise when Dad followed her in death before the day was done. They were scientists, I think but they loved me very much. Things were tense, I remember being afraid for some reason but their deaths pained me. They were too fulfilled to become ghosts. I grabbed bits of their essence before it dissipated and made the stars Polyhymnia and Terpsichore, the muses of hymns and dance respectively. They were a perfect couple, partners in everything. A song and a dance, always in time with each other.”

The wind rustles the ghost’s cape, he clutches it as if he is cold. You cannot tear your eyes from the the soft grief on his face. 

“Valerie went next, some sort of illness; I can’t remember the details,” the ghost frowned. “She had no desire to become a ghost, no matter how much I asked her to stay. I am King of All Ghosts and yet I got on my knees and begged for some part of her to keep with me. In the end, I stole a bit of her fading spirit and crafted Calliope, the assertive muse, the author of epic poetry. She shines so brightly up there like she had in life.”

“Jasmine died peacefully in her sleep like our mother. She was always protecting me, even in death. Her devotion to knowledge and my wellbeing kept her by my side for many years but it wasn’t enough to last forever. When her spirit was nothing more than wisps, I took her core and placed Clio with the rest of our family. The muse of history, the proclaimer of great deeds fit my older sister well.”

“Tucker and Sam stayed with me the longest. Tucker went first, a quick death from an aged body followed by years as the playful spirit I always knew him as. Sam, my life and my love, passed the same and was my queen in death as she’d been in life. But love can delay death but not deny it and their spirits needed to move on. I kissed them both, my soulmates and made them into stars. Thalia, the muse of comedy and idyllic poems for the light Tucker brought to me. Erato for Sam, muse of love and its poetry for all that she inspired and gave me.”

You see glowing tears running down his face, he holds his hands out to the night sky. His fingers are curved as if wanting to reach and tenderly brush the faces of people long gone. Only they’re not gone completely. You look at the stars with a newfound appreciation. They are no longer pinpricks of long dead light but people who lived and died and yet still lived on in such beauty. If you look closely, you can almost see them. Brushes of red hair, dark rugged skin, the glint of glasses, a flash of amethyst eyes. 

“There’s no Urania,” you say quietly, the wind tossing them. 

“Not yet,” he says longingly, “but soon. The Zone and the Earth are at peace, they won’t need my protection for much longer. When that happens, my spirit will leave this world and join my loved ones in the stars as Urania.” This ghost has been dead for longer than you’ve been alive, longer than many of your most recent ancestors. But his love can still be felt, still burns high above in the sky for everyone to see. What better eternity is there?

“May I tell their story?” You ask and he only nods in response, not taking his eyes off Mnemosyne. You get the feeling he has forgotten about you, caught up in the light of his loved ones shining down on him, waiting. All at once, you realize how late it is, how cold. You leave to return to the research shelter, to write the history of the miracle constellation. 

The stars made out of souls, crafted by love.

Twelve years later, you are not surprised when you look up and see a ninth star in the constellation of Mnemosyne. It glows brightly, twinkling with the other muses as if in conversation. You can only smile through your tears, so profoundly happy that Urania’s lonely vigil is finally over and they have assumed their rightful place among the stars. 

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #i'm not crying you're crying #this came to me last night in the bath #the idea that Danny takes pieces of his loved ones soul and made them into stars #so that they can stay with him while he finishes his duty as Ghost King #I want to stress they all DID move on #these are just pieces of them #stars are echoes of light long gone and same for these stars #they're the memory of friends and family and enemies #people who meant so much to Danny that he blazed their souls across the sky so they could watch over him #while he finished he duty and waited to join them #Danny Fenton never went to the stars #but because of Phantom he was able to finally walk among them #arm and arm with the family of his soul #thats not a bad afterlife shining in the sky softly watching over the earth you spent so long protecting #dont fucking touch me #wanted to play with second person pov lmk if it sux #its danny fucking may now open up and eat your soft tender angst

[meat--grindr]

I can request a story of Yandere Brahms with his reader, where Brahms kidnaps the reader by taking her inside the walls of the Mansion to be loved and protected. How did you come to this situation, maybe you can have a little NFSW?

Ahh, Brahms. How I love him so. I just wanted to let you know before we get into anything too serious, that this might be a little different than you were expecting, and for that I’m going to apologize right off the bat. I’ll admit I’m a massive weeb, but I never really saw the appeal of yanderes. Cringe, I know. So, I’m going to do my best here and take yandere more as ‘possessive’ if that’s alright? Also, I took some liberties with ‘kidnapping’ as you’ll see, just because I don’t want to walk too far into non-consensual territory when there’s NSFW involved. I don’t want to write anything explicitly non-consensual here, so it was a fine line to walk, but I think I found an okay solution. If this isn’t at all what you’re looking for, maybe drop me a PM and we can try to work something out? Anyway have like 5000-ish words of Brahms smut :)

Possessive (Yandere [?] Brahms (Female Reader) – NSFW

·       Standing at the foot of the stairs, you are struck, though certainly not for the first time, by the beauty of the house in which you find yourself. The golden hue of the wood which panels the walls reflect and amplify the soft glow emanating from beneath frosted glass lampshades. The diffused amber glow is cast about the room, throwing elongated shadows against the walls and into the far corners. From your place at the very bottom of the stairwell, the ceiling, now several floors above you, is lost to the early darkness of a winter evening.

·       Through the window, you can see the first soft flakes of snow drifting through the air. But here, inside, with your back braced against the newel post, you are warm. Tipping your head back, you gaze up into the yawning void above and cast your mind into it, losing yourself in daydreams of the beautiful rooms it conceals; your bedroom with its fourposter bed, all draped in velvet and silk—the dark, lacquered wood of the study, which still smells of cigar smoke, though as far as you can tell one hasn’t been lit in there for years—and, of course, the library.

·       Dark shelves line the walls, so tall they stretch from the wooden floor to the moulded ceiling. They stand, filled nearly past capacity with volumes of every shape and size, from encyclopedias so large you can lift only one at a time, to pocket novellas no bigger than your palm. Pages and spines alike, embossed with gold and silver shimmer from both the shelves and the tables set beside each of the overstuffed armchairs. The plush rug which lies beneath those tables and chairs makes even the floor a comfortable place to stretch out and lose oneself in a book. And the smell. Old leather and paper, printing ink and glue, dust and the very passage of time itself. It’s like every crooked old bookstore you’ve ever entered tucked away in a cozy corner of your own home. Whether or not you remember having dreamt of owning a private library, you were quite sure you could never go back to life without one and find yourself contented.

·       Even now, you long to curl up in one of those plush chairs and sink into another world until bedtime. You knew a soft blanket and a half-finished novel waited for you there, begging you to come back and see to them. And why shouldn’t you? What else was there to do on a chilly night such as this? The day’s chores were completed—the rat traps were checked (empty as always), the laundry was done, wood for the fire was stacked in the shed, and the supper dishes had been washed and put away. There is very little else that requires your attention. So why not?

·       Your socked feet sink into the plush, green carpeting as you mount the stairs. The banister is pleasantly cool and smooth beneath your fingertips. As you ascend, the light from below begins to dim, unable to reach any further into the darkness above. The difference made by the two flights of stairs between the lighted foyer and the dark second floor leaves you light-blinded and blinking in the shadows.

·       When again you regain your sight enough to behold it, even in partial darkness, the hallway that stretches before you is beautiful—the wooden paneling on the lower half of the walls takes on a sleek shine, while the deep green wallpaper above it fades into a stately and sober black. The paintings and portraits that line the walls are somber; muted without the proper lighting to show their colours, but they are no less impressive or imposing. A ship, barely visible, save for the canvas sails, is tossed on a rapidly darkening sea, lighting flashing far in the distance—a bright brushstroke of pure white, clear even in deep shadow. An old woman, her name rendered illegible in the gloom, stares down her nose at you in deep disapproval. Her eyes, like the rest of her, are severe and grey, and they seem, through either a trick of the light or the mastery of the painter, to follow you down the hall.

·       It is very dark. A thin, watery light filters through a small window at the end of the hall, but it does little to help guide you. You suppose you could turn on one of the many lamps that line the long and ponderous hall, but you know you can find your way just find without one. You’d spent several adventurous afternoons and many restless nights exploring the house and grounds. Though in the beginning you could barely follow the straight hall from the front door to the kitchen without getting lost, these days, you rarely, if ever, found yourself wandering the halls with no idea where you were.

·       You reach out, brushing the wallpaper with the tips of your fingers as you walk, grounding yourself in the darkness. It’s almost rough to the touch, stiff with age, though it’s clearly been well taken care of. In the daylight, there is little sign of aging at all - no scuffs or faded sections. You knew the house itself was well over a hundred years old, but it showed its age in astonishingly few places. Sure, the phones were ancient and the lack of wi-fi was irritating but—

·       Thump.

·       You freeze in place. You’re sure the sound had come from within the wall, just to the left of where you stood. There is something in there. The blood roars in your ear as you press it up against the wallpaper, straining to hear even a hint of movement, be it the shifting of the wood as the house settles, or the pitter-patter of something living. The seconds stretch on into minutes, but no further sounds come. You scrunch up your nose, feeling rather silly. It’s probably just a mouse…or maybe a rat. It sounded big. Perhaps those traps were good for something after all.

·       Your gaze lingers on the spot for a moment longer, but still, there is nothing but silence. Maybe it had been the house creaking in the wind. Old houses were prone to groaning after all. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to move some of the traps further up into the house for a little bit, just to be on the safe side.

·       You turn and continue down the hall, mind once again turning to the blanket, the book, and the comfy glow of the library. You press your palm flat against the wall as you walk, the whisper of your skin sliding over the wallpaper barely audible, even in the quiet that envelops the house at night.

·       Then your fingers catch against something—an indentation in the wallpaper. It’s subtle, but definitely there. You stop to inspect it closer, worried that perhaps your assessment about the house not showing its age may have come a little hastily. Your fingers explore the seam with care, and you decide it’s not a crack—it’s too regular, too straight. It feels intentional in its design. And it’s practically invisible in the darkness—likely just as difficult to spot in daylight considering how frequently you find yourself in this hall and your failure to take notice of it before now.

·       You crouch down, following the seam with your fingers. It stretches all the way down to the floor. Why…it’s almost like…a little door…

·       Almost at the same moment this thought trickles into your mind, the little section of wall gives way beneath your touch, swinging inward on silent hinges.

·       From within the inky darkness beyond, a pair of long, thin arms surge forth, snaking around your waist. The grip in which they envelop you is bruising as you are pulled back into the darkness beyond the secret door.

·       It slams behind you hard enough to rattle the picture frames in the hall. You scream, long and hard, struggling against the arms that cage you. You flail your limbs, lashing out blindly with fists and feet and nails, hoping desperately to strike your attacker, or at least wriggle enough to squirm from their crushing grasp. But the grip around your midsection only tightens, squeezing the very air from your lungs.

·       You lurch into motion, the figure in the darkness half-carrying, half-dragging you along a narrow passageway. You try to scream again but find you can’t get enough air to do so. Instead, you lash out, legs kicking against the walls, knees and shins colliding painfully with rough, wooden support beams and sharp corners.

·       While rounding a particularly tight corner, you manage to kick the opposite wall hard enough to throw your attacker off balance. A hissing shower of dust and plaster rains down on the pair of you. The figure stumbles, grip relaxing for only a moment, but it’s enough. You wriggle from their crushing grasp and dart back the way you came.

·       The figure recovers quickly, and you can hear them bolting after you in the darkness. It doesn’t take long before they’re on you again, one large hand fisted deep in your hair, wrenching your head back. You cry out in pain, stumbling back against the intruder. The hand in your hair doesn’t relinquish it’s hold as their other arm wraps around your chest, locking in place like an iron bar. You struggle uselessly, hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you’re dragged back the way you’d come, seemingly with even less regard for your physical well-being.

·       Not far beyond the corner where you’d made your escape, you’re shoved to the ground unceremoniously. As you make to crawl away, the figure circles around you, blocking your path of escape. Even as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can’t see much more than an outline. Even so, you can tell they’re much bigger than you. You feel a large hand sliding beneath your knees, and another on the small of your back and suddenly, the floor beneath you drops away. Instinctively, your arms shoot out, fumbling in the darkness for something solid to grab hold of. Your grasping hands find a fist-full of the intruder’s shirt. It’s soft and well-worn in your hands, and you clutch so tightly to it that you can feel your fingers beginning to cramp almost immediately. A soft rumble rolls through the figure, and after a moment, you realize they’re laughing at you. You want to let go, but the fear of tumbling backward into the darkness stills your hands.

·       With the way you’re being jostled about, you get the distinct impression that you’re ascending a flight of stairs. Secret tunnels and staircases in the walls? Under any other circumstance, you would be ecstatic, ready to drop everything and explore them. But caught as you were, in the arms of a stranger, there is nothing but panic within you. Taking advantage of your new position, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the intention to scream, though you’re sure there’s no one around to hear you.

·       “Don’t.” So, it’s a man? His voice is soft, a half-whisper that thrums through your body where it’s pressed up against his chest. There is a distinctly British tilt to his voice, and it’s oddly muffled, as though something was covering his mouth. You’re reminded of those old cartoon bandits who wore bandanas across their mouths. He doesn’t want to be identified. The though sends a cold chill through you. This isn’t good. “Scream and I’ll drop you.”

·       The scream dies in your throat. While you certainly don’t like being caught in a strange man’s grip, the thought of lying broken at the bottom of a secret staircase no one else seems to know about hammers a worse kind of fear into your gut. You could die…or not and that might be the worse option: injured and completely at a stranger’s mercy. No. As it stands, if you follow his instructions, you remain unharmed, and the longer you remain unharmed, the better your chances of finding a way out.

·       At the top of the steps, you find yourself in front of a rough wooden door. Here he readjusts his grip on you, bracing your weight against his hips as he taps the door open with a gentle kick.

·       Suddenly, you’re bathed in a soft, golden light cast by the dozens of candles that lay scattered about the room. After so much time spent in the dark, the burst of light dazzles your eyes. In spite of your fear, you curl up against the strange man’s chest, turning away from the light that blinds and burns your eyes. It’s too much too soon.

·       The man laughs again, bouncing you gently in his arms, like one would a small child, “No hiding.”

·       His tone is light, but it is still a command. Sensing scant room for disobedience, you turn your face up towards his, cracking one eye open, then the other. You had been told not to, but in the flickering light, as you blink up at the face of your kidnapper, you can do nothing to stop the scream that builds in your throat.

·       His face is hidden, not behind a bandana, but a porcelain mask. The pale white surface is littered with a spider’s web of thin cracks and what looks to be dried blood. Your eyes sweep over the soft curve of the mouth, the delicate nose which turns up at the end, and the empty spaces behind which dark, human eyes burn into your own.

·       The moment the scream leaves you, ringing loud in the enclosed space, the man snarls, striding into the room with purpose. As he weaves through the maze of dusty old furniture, you beat your fists against his chest, squirming in his grip, trying with renewed desperation to escape his clutches. “Let me go! Let me go!!”

·       Ignoring your pleas, he stalks to the far corner of the room, where a low-slung cot waits, tucked close against a rough brick wall. He dumps you none too gently onto it, and you scrabble backward, knocking your head against the wall behind you. Your ears ring with the force of the blow, but your eyes remain trained on the masked man as he clambers onto the cot with you.

·       You jam yourself back into the corner, as far from the menacing figure as possible. He comes toward you slowly, laughing, as though this were all some silly game the pair of you were enjoying. You kick at him, and he swats your leg away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. His eyes, however, aren’t laughing. Where they peak out from beneath the mask, they blaze with only one thing: hunger.

·       You kick out at him again, catching him, this time, on the jaw, just beneath the edge of his mask. And just like that he’s not laughing anymore. He goes frighteningly still, and there’s a change in the air. You know he’s done playing.

·       He lunges for you, and you shriek, cowering back against the wall, the rough bricks digging into the flesh of your arms. His hands close around your ankles and he pulls you down toward him.

·       He slots himself between your legs, pinning your thighs down with boney knees. You squirm beneath him, but he’s too heavy for you to shake off. He looms above you in the candlelight, breathing hard, his eyes flashing behind the mask. With a jolt, you realize he’s going to hurt you. You’re so sure, you flinch, cringing away from him as much as is possible, bracing for the pain that’s sure to come.

·       But, when his knuckles brush against your cheek, it’s not in anger. It’s a gentle caress that jolts through you like an electric current. You turn to look at him, as he brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. He stares at you for a long moment, drinking in your shock, before leaning down to press cool porcelain lips against yours.

·       The kindness of his gestures surprises you almost more than any blow he could have delivered. When he promised to play rough, he usually meant it. With shaking hands, you reach up to touch his face. Your fingers slip beneath the mask, brushing the hair and skin beneath with feather-light touches. You want to see his face, want kisses from his real lips, want—

·       But the man’s fingers curl around your wrists, wrenching your hands from his face. “No.” There is force behind the word equal to the force with which he pins your wrists against the sheets, indenting the mattress beneath them. His voice, in that same soft whisper from before, rasps in your ear, “Not even when we’re playing, Love.”

·       You swallow hard, all the pretenses of your little experiment dropping away in an instant. You realize you came dangerously close to crossing a line. “Okay. Brahms. I-I’m sorry.”

·       You expect that he’ll want to stop now, and you wouldn’t blame him if he did, but he surprises you by nuzzling against your neck, “Not ‘Brahms.’”

·       So, he still wants to play. You smile up at him. “Oh, right! Sorry.”

·       He bends over your neck again, pressing porcelain kisses against your neck. You crane your head back, eager to make up for your misstep with the mask. There’s something about these kisses that makes your heart flutter—perhaps it’s simply the rush of a new sensation against sensitive flesh, or maybe it’s the knowledge that his real lips lay just beneath that hard surface, so close and yet completely out of reach.

·       When he lets go of your left wrist, you’re so caught up in these kisses, that you barely register it. That is until you feel the mask slide in an unnatural direction against your skin, and you feel Brahms’ real lips against your neck for the first time. Your whole body jerks forward, pressing against him with a soft sigh on your lips. His mouth is softer and warmer than you ever could have imagined. Even his beard feels good where it scratches against you.

·       His teeth scrape over your pulse, drawing another sound from you. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him down on top of you. His laugh rasps out against your throat, as he stamps warm kisses all across your collarbone.

·       You roll your hips against his and he groans, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. He surges upward fixing his teeth into the meat of your neck as he grinds down against you, letting you feel just how badly he wants you. His name slips between your teeth as a hiss and you feel him smile against your neck. His tongue flickers over the mark he’s left, though it’s more to lay further claim than to soothe the ache his teeth pushed into your flesh.

·       When he pulls back, he’s already pushing the mask back into place, though you catch a quick flash of the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth.

·       He looks down at you, eyes sliding slow down your body, head cocked to the side like he’s thinking. He has that hungry look about him again and it lights a white-hot bolt of desire in your gut. You lift your hips, rolling them against his, relishing both the spark of pleasure that shoots through your stomach, and the shiver that rolls down his spine. A little whine escapes his lips, and you feel your heart leap. God, you’d do anything to hear that sound again. He meets the roll of your body with a stuttering jolt of his own.

·       You can’t help but beam up at him. “What are you thinking about Brah—Mister?”

·       He sighs deeply, running his hands down your chest, his fingers tracing along your ribs. “About all the things I could do to you…”

·       A breathless puff of laughter escapes you, “Oh, yeah?” You guide his hands down to your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint. “Like what?”

·       “Hm…let’s see. I could, hold you down,” His hands, still resting beneath yours tighten against your hips, pushing you down against the mattress. You try to buck up against him, but he holds you fast, “I don’t think so, Love.” He grips you hard, dipping his head to whisper into your ear, “I could just hold you here, and you’d have to take whatever I decide to give you.” His thumbs trace the seams of your hips. Even through your jeans it makes you shudder.

·       “Or, I could give you very little at all,” He lets go of your hips in favour of ghosting a hand down your thigh. His other hand presses gently against your zipper. His fingers trail down the seam, until you feel the pressure against your clit and jerk against his hand. He pulls away, “Just enough to keep you interested, but not enough to satisfy you.”

·       You whine, feeling a damp patch growing in your underwear. You know he’d get such a charge from dragging this out, teasing you until your arousal had soaked through the denim of your jeans. You could hear him now, ‘A few kisses and some dirty words…it’s that easy?' While you’d usually be willing to indulge him, you weren’t willing to give him that satisfaction today. He was already so uppity as it was. “Or you could just toss my legs over your shoulders and take what you want.” You toss an arm over your forehead in an attempt at playing toward his flair for the dramatic, “Look at me, baby. I’m defenseless.” You roll your hips against him again, nice and slow. You can tell by the hitch in his breathing that you’ve almost got him convinced. You can barely keep the smirk from your face as you arch your back, and whimper for him, “Please?”

·       That one word is all it takes to break him. In a flash he’s slipped out of his cardigan and tossed it off into the darkness of the attic. His suspenders follow suit with a metallic clinking. It isn’t until he’s unbuttoning his trousers that you realize you have mere seconds to undo your own before Brahms falls upon you and tears them off himself. You’ve lost more than one good pair of jeans this way and you don’t intend to lose another if you can help it.

·       Your shaking hands fumble with the button, managing to pop it only after a few tries. Taking them off from your position underneath Brahms is no small feat, especially considering his reluctance to move, now that his trousers rest about his knees and he’s rolling his hips against your still clothed thigh, his cock already leaking against the denim.

·       “Want you now.” His voice is rough, breaking in time with the thrusting of his hips.

·       “I know, baby. But you’ve gotta wait.”

·       Brahms huffs in irritation. ‘Wait’ is not a word he likes to hear at the best of times, let alone when his dick is this hard.

·       You tap his hip gently. “C’mon, up.”

·       He drops his head against your shoulder with a petulant whimper, his hips stuttering against your thigh.

·       “Brahms…” You sigh, half-frustrated, half-amused. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find it incredibly sexy when Brahms acted like a brat, but your pleasure was at stake here as well. “You can’t fuck me properly with my jeans on.”

·       His hips slow for a moment, and he whines again.

·       “C’mon, be a good boy for me.” You feel his cock pulse against your thigh, and he relents. He scoots back just enough for you to push your jeans and underwear down your thighs. Brahms takes care of the rest, tearing the offending fabric from your legs and tossing it from the bed to join his cardigan on the floor.

·       His hands are on your shoulders in an instant, shoving you back against the mattress, all patience spent. You feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and barely have a time to take a breath before he’s pushing inside with a single, smooth stroke.

·       “F-Fuuuck…”

·       “Yeah, that’s the idea, baby.” Your hands are fisted tightly in the sheets, your voice tight as your body grows accustomed to the stretch once again. You’ve taken Brahms with little preparation before. You know you can handle it, but somehow the girth of him almost always comes as a surprise.

·       To his credit, he does his best to keep still until you give him the ‘okay,’ though you can feel his hips shaking with the effort. He’s mouthy while he waits though, any trace of the gentleman within him his gone, replaced by a cursing, dirty-talking stranger, “Gonna pound you into this mattress, gonna fuck you like—fuck you’re so wet—like your my whore…mine, mine, ah fuck! Mine.”

·       You roll your hips, testing the water, and he bites back a string of curses. His hips stutter forward unbidden, and you moan low in your throat.

·       Behind the mask, you see his eyes roll back. He starts to beg then, changing his tune entirely, “Please, Love, let me fuck you, please, please, please. I promise I’ll be good. I will, just please!”

·       You reach up, carding your fingers through his hair, “Show me what a good boy you are, make us feel good, baby.”

·       Without missing a beat, Brahms’ hips take up a frantic rhythm, tearing a litany of pretty sounds from your throat. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as he drops his head to press doll’s mouth kisses against your throat.

·       Your hand slips between your bodies, spreading your lips to circle your clit. You buck against him, gasping his name as the pleasure courses through you two-fold.

·       A strong hand grasps your wrist again pulling it away from your clit. “We mustn’t touch what isn’t ours.” You nearly whine in frustration, but your displeasure is quickly forgotten when you feel the soft pads of Brahms’ fingers against your sensitive flesh.

·       “You,” he groans in pleasure, angling his hips to push deeper inside of you, “You belong to me.” He punctuates the sentiment with a sharp snap of his hips. “That means I am the only one who can make you feel good.” He presses his fingers hard against your clit, and your thighs begin to shake. “Tell me who you belong to.”

·       It takes you a second to find your voice. “Y-You, Brahms.”

·       “Yesss,” the rhythm of his thrusts is beginning to fall by the wayside as his hips buck and stutter. “Say it again.” His fingers circle your clit faster, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm.

·       “Fuck, Brahms! I’m yours! A-All yours! You’re gonna make me cum.”

·       “Mine.” You feel the mask slide to the side again and his lips are on your neck. You feel his teeth graze the bite mark he’d left. His teeth are in your throat, his fingers on your clit, his cock in your cunt, and you’re cumming. His name tumbles from your lips, the only coherent thought in your mind.

·       He groans against your neck, trying to fuck you through it, but you’re too tight around him, forcing him into an agitated stillness. His fingers work your clit feverishly until you push his hand away, too oversensitive to stand another second of it.

·       You’re still almost painfully tight around him when the rhythmic pulsing of your own orgasm begins to push him over the edge. He thrusts into you once, twice, thrice more, before pulling out and shaking apart, his cum painting your thighs and stomach. He whimpers and trembles, fisting his cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm, desperate to chase every last ounce of pleasure.

·       Only when he’s well and truly spent, nearly sobbing from the agony of the overstimulation does he flop down on the cot beside you, panting heavily, cock still twitching against his thighs.

·       He kicks off his trousers, and curls up by your side, throwing an arm around you. For the longest time, the only sound in the room is that of your breathing slowing in tandem as you each come down from your high.

·       Brahms’ voice is small when he speaks up at last, “Did I do okay?”

·       You turn to face him, laying on your side. You reach out a hand and readjust his mask, before pressing a soft kiss against the delicate bow of his lips. “You were perfect. Thank you, Brahms.”

·       He nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. There’s tension in his shoulders, and he won’t look you in the eyes.

·       “What’s wrong, honey?”

·       He shakes his head, burrowing against your side. “Nothing…”

·       “It doesn’t look like nothing to me. It’s okay to talk to me about things like this, you know.”

·       He’s silent for a little while longer, and you wonder if he needs a little more prodding to use his words. But then, he speaks, “I wasn’t…too rough? In the passages?”

·       “No, baby. No. It was exactly like we talked about.”

·       “Okay.” There’s a little touch of a frown in his voice, like he’s trying to puzzle something through in his mind. “I didn’t expect you to fight me so hard. It felt…real.”

·       “I wanted to make it seem real. Did I upset you?”

·       There’s a long pause, but when he speaks, he sounds genuine. “I don’t think so. It was a little…thrilling.”

·       You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, “It was, wasn’t it? Where did you get an idea like that? Pretending to kidnap me and all that?”

·       He’s quiet for a moment, as he remembers a time not so long ago, when the idea was meant to be more reality than fantasy. He was supposed to have that girl. He should have done better, should have fought for her harder, should have killed her and buried her in the yard with the others. He should have done a lot of things. The scar on his stomach burns with the memory of all the things he should have done. But they don’t matter now. She doesn’t matter now. He has you.

·       He presses another kiss against your neck and lies, “Recreation of a scene from 'Jane Eyre.' You know how I adore that novel. And you being such a pretty lady, simply had to fill the role of the damsel in distress.”

·       “If you say so.” You snuggle closer against his chest. He really was a very strange man. A yawn blossoms in the base of your jaw, but you do your best to fight it off. You know you’ll be sore later, but for now you’re happy and sated and perfectly content to doze in the arms of the man you love.

·       Then a thought hits you, “Hold on, Jane Eyre doesn’t get kidnapped, Brahms.”

·       He chuckles softly against your shoulder, “So you have been reading my books after all.”

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #slasher x reader #im so sorry this is so late #i couldnt figure out how to wrote brahms in a way that i liked :/ #enjoy i hope #im off to bed #also ive never written het smut before so...i hope its alright #ripper fics

[starbuckie]

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld​

prompt: “we’re divorced?” 

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :)  this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died. 

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England. 

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them. 

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions. 

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.” 

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.” 

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light. 

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel. 

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where. 

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips. 

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice. 

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.  

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy. 

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her. 

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

-

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity. 

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground. 

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see. 

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.” 

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his. 

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending. 

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky. 

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-” 

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies. 

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’. 

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.” 

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?” 

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?” 

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.” 

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”  

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart. 

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.” 

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.”  Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty. 

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised. 

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.” 

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”  

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.” 

-

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room. 

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!” 

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?” 

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.” 

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed. 

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

#sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfiction #yvettestimetravelchallenge #harry potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #young marauders #sirius black is really just a beautiful man #sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius x y/n #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #marauder era #fanfcition #fanfiction #fanfic #Self Insert #reader insert #readerinsert

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere Octavinelle Turns Into Babies Headcanons

Requested by the lovely @minteasketches​ . I’m not super happy with how it turned out, nevertheless I hope you enjoy it, darling. 

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Azul Ashengrotto

It was supposed to be a simple spell. "Something to strengthen the contracts with" was what your self proclaimed lover and currant kidnapper had declared. 

Personally, you didn't really care, it was far too early to be awake and worrying about contracts and potions and whatnot. But sadly as part of a deal, you had made all so long ago, your soul had become fused with Azul's. Where he went, you went. 

And he wanted to be in his office at the Mostro Lounge at bloody 6 am!

So here you, lounging on a decorative sea shell-like chair that Azul had bought you. Eyes dropping only to be shot back open from the chiming of potion bottles. Your brain was foggy, dreary even. Dreaming of Azul's soft mattress and warm blankets. The fluffy pillows cradling your head as you escaped your cruel reality. 

You would have sworn that you'd only closed your eyes for a minute. A measly sixty seconds, but that was enough time for everything to go downhill. 

Something hit the ground, sending a crackling noise echoing through the room. a mere moment later some forging high pitch cry reverberated off the powder purple walls. 

Looking around in a panic-induced daze your eyes landed on something shuffling around under Azul's clothes...

Wait! Under Azul's clothes?

It didn't take long to realize what had happened. 

Slowly pushing the fabrics aside you came face to face with a tiny octo-boy.

To your utter horror, he looked like he was gasping for air, waving his arms around as his cries turned into desperate heaving. 

Lifting the poor thing up you looked around trying to find some sort of nearby water source to put the boy in. Luckily the table in the center of the room had water underneath a thin sheet of glass. Shoving the glass to one side you clumsily ducked Azul into the liquid.

The tiny octopus slowly slumped into the water laying down on his back so to breathe properly. Fully submerging his body in the aqua liquid.

As the adrenaline wore down, you began to notice just how cute and also innocent the small thing looked as he half-heatedly blew bubbled from his mouth. 

It was hard to believe that the manipulative man that had imprisoned you, stripped you of your precious freedom, could be, was actually at some point in his life just a defenseless baby. He looked so angelic, so sweet. 

Nervously you bite your lip, trying to find a more suitable aquarium for the little white-haired baby. 

Just as you were about to push your self to your feet, a tiny tentacle reached out from the shallow water, wrapping itself gently against your finger.

The tiny gesture warmed your heart in such a way you never thought Azul capable of. 

Breathing out a sigh You plucked one of the decorative starfish form the makeshift pool, holding it above Azul's head and watching as he tried to reach for it. 

For now, you were content with keeping the baby occupied. Jade and Floyd could deal the reversing the spell later. Maybe for today, all you had to do was play around with the tiny little thing before it turned back into the monster, present in each of your nightmares. 

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Jade Leech

Some rumors about mushrooms with "mystical properties" that grew in the enchanted forest were circling the school.

Surely it was a myth started by some bored teacher or mischievous student. 

Nevertheless Jade has declared that he wanted to see these mushrooms firsthand. That would be the very reason you where both hiking through the forest, getting bitten by countless mosquitoes, as branches and stray roots cut into your skin. 

"How much longer" the poor darling wined as you slumped against a nearby tree gasping for air.

The "nicer" twin responded with a simple wave of his hand and breathless murmuring that sounded slightly like "Almost there"

"Almost there" turned into another hour of trailing through the endless greenery. Until the two of you came to a clearing illuminated by the rogue rays of the sun. 

Huddled together, growing row after row was, sure enough, a patch of those infamous mushrooms. 

Jade's eyes started to sparkle, gleaming at the fungi, in a matter of seconds he was running towards them, long forgetting his "beloved"

Just as the eel boy reached out to pluck one of the mushrooms, something bizarre began to occur. 

The clearing faded into a puffy white light, almost like a mushroom cloud had erupted.

 acting on instinct you shield your face with your arms. Your mind rushed, trying to understand what was happening.

Splitting your eyes open to peak at your surroundings. You scanned the clearing attempting to locate Jade, but to your surprise, he was nowhere in sight. 

A part of you wanted to run away. If you could just remember the path that led here than there was a good chance you could get away from Jade. 

Just as you were about to take off, you heard a faint noise in the distance. Something like the cooing of bird or...the wails of an infant. 

You gulped, carefully stepping over to where the noise was coming from. Peering behind the mushrooms you noticed a tiny blob of teal rolling around. For a second you didn't believe your eyes. As you got closer to the tiny thing it began to look more and more like an infant, and infant that resembled Jade! 

Sure you weren't Jade's biggest fan, you despised him, to say the least, but...this was just a child. Defenseless and rolling around on the grass. The moment his mismatched eyes landed on you, the tiny eel began gooing and gaing. Extending his arms, reaching out to you trying to gain some affection. 

Picking him up and cradling him close to your chest, you watched as the baby moray eel, wrapped his small tail around your wrist. 

despite the slimy cold feeling it left, you couldn't help but smile and wiggle your index finger close to his face. 

"Come on Jade, let's get you home. Maybe Azul can find a way to get you back to normal...or hopefully not"

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Floyd Leech

It all started with Floyd acting out during Alchemy class

"These recipes are too boring! Shrimpy hand me that pink liquid over there! Oh Oh and the green one too!"

Sure you tried to stop him...but really what can stand in Floyd's way when he's in one of his "moods" 

Floyd went ahead mixing the pink sweet-smelling liquid and the glowing green one into the base component that Professor Crewel had provided.

Nothing….

For a few moments, all seemed peaceful. Floyd's face morphed into a frown as he glared daggers at the rotten looking liquid. 

Slowly some bubbles started to form on the surface, popping the moment they breathed out the liquid container. 

Floyd's face started to light up, he craned his head closer to the liquid. 

"Shrimpy-chan look! It's changing colo-"

A loud booming noise filed the room. Screams and shouts of terror and shock soon joined the fray. 

A thick smoke hovered over the classroom, so dense that one could barely see in front of them. 

Somewhere, someone opened a window. Permitting the fog to escape, evaporating as it slithered out of the classroom. 

Crewel's voice boomed around the room. "FLOYD LEECH!!"

But to everyone's surprise, there wasn't a sound...heck Floyd wasn't even there!

You slightly turned your head to the side. Gaze flickering over Floyd's empty seat. As your sight shifts lower, you notice a tiny little baby, sitting where Floyd had been moments ago. 

Letting out a little laugh you pick up the tiny eel baby. squealing and almost dropping him as he wraps around your wrist trying to bite your hand. 

"Floyd stop it!" All eyes turn towards you, gasping at the little "serpent" trying to ripe off a chunk of your flesh. 

Good job (L/N), you found...well a tiny version of Floyd." Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Crewel turned to face the class. "Class dismissed! I have to work on a potion to get that little puppy back to his normal self...or whatever he was before!"

The rest of the students swiftly leave the room. Leaving behind a crying baby Floyd, an angry-looking Crewel and poor little you, who was desperately trying to clam the baby down. 

Seeing no other options you wagged your pinky finger close to Floyd's mouth. Flinching as he harshly bit down. 

Sure it was painful but it kept him quiet. 

It took some time to put together a tiny aquarium for the little devil as well as make a potion for him. 

The sun had long since set, you laid your head on your desk watching the tiny Floyd swim around. Everything felt so unusually serene. Your eyes felt heavy, closing on there own accord. The moonlight cast a chilling glow over your unconscious form. 

"W-wa-wake! Swimpy, Wake!" You cracked one of your eyes open to notice the small child splashing some water on you. His head risen over the edge of the aquarium. 

"I'm up Floyd" you murmured. Steadily you pulled the small aquarium to yourself. Caging it between your arms and resting your head against the class. 

Right before your eyes closed once more, sleep overtaking, you noticed Floyd resting his head against the glass and shutting his little eyes too.

"Night, night Swimpy"

🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto headcanons #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto x you #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x you #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x you #yandere headcanons #twisted wonderland jade leech #twisted wonderland jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade leech x you #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech x you #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade leech x you #yancore #yandere #twisted wonderland floyd leech #twisted wonderland floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland floyd leech x you

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - First Sight

Hey all, I’m in the mood to share another clip of my Our Life: Beginnings & Always novelization’s first draft. This time it’s from the start of Step 1, with Cove and Jamie as teeny 8-year-olds having a most unexpected encounter that would change their lives forever.

Thanks, as always, to @gb-patch​ for the lovely game and for fueling so much inspiration in me!

...

Sighing, Jamie realized that she just had to accept the fact that she wasn’t going to come up with a clever solution to sneak in through the back of her house. She had no real option but to find a good hiding spot on one of the hills and wait. Either her moms would come looking for her, or the stranger would wander off to do other suspicious things, and she could sneak in through the front door when he was gone.

The hills were quiet, save for the chirping of crickets hiding in the tall grass. Jamie visited the place nearly every day, so it wasn’t scary being out there by herself, even at night. It was fairly bright for nighttime as well thanks to the full moon that slowly rose over the horizon. Still, it was hard for her to relax completely, knowing that some tall creepy stranger might still be hunting for her.

It was likely because Jamie was so on alert that she felt as though she wasn’t actually alone in the hills that night. She turned her attention away from home and safety to scan her surroundings carefully before quickly finding that she was right.

Sitting atop one of the hills, mostly hidden among the tall grass and white poppies was a boy around her age. His hair was green, which offered a perfect natural camouflage that was completely ruined by the neon pink cast wrapped around his left arm. He sat curled up, knees tucked against his chest with his face buried against them.

The boy hadn’t noticed Jamie. He sat facing away from her and the houses. His focus was instead on some point far off in the distance.

The view from the hills was spectacular, and it was something Jamie liked about playing here, but she got the impression that this boy wasn’t really here for that. As she drifted carefully closer, she saw the sad frown he wore along with the lost look he had in his blue-green eyes.

In the moonlight, the boy’s eyes seemed to glow behind the large glasses he wore. It was almost magical and Jamie couldn’t help but stare. The feeling of observing him was like stumbling across a deer in the wild, or maybe a fairy.

Above those enchanting but sad eyes were a pair of upturned wavy eyebrows. Jamie had never seen anyone have such a distinctive feature, but they somehow suited this new boy. They also went well with the waves of his pretty, short, seafoam green hair, which delicately fluttered in the breeze around his face. The clothes he wore were ordinary enough in comparison to his more striking features - a white tank-top and brown cargo shorts with long white socks and black sneakers - with only the red glasses and bright pink cast standing out.

As pretty and magical as the new boy appeared, Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to make him so upset.

Although Jamie tried to be quiet in her approach, she failed in her attempts to be stealthy for a second time that day. Those aquamarine eyes that reflected the moonlight so enchantingly turned their focus on her, and she froze.

Slowly, Jamie raised a hand in a small wave and put on her best smile, not wanting to scare the sad boy away. “Hi.”

…

Cove Holden was lost, and he didn’t want to be found.

This place was all wrong. It wasn’t home. Ever since they got there, his dad kept pointing out all the good things this place had, including things that he already had at home, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was familiar and so many little details were simply just plain wrong. Even the beach was all wrong. The sand wasn’t the right color, the smells woven with the salt in the air were strange, and even the plants near the beach were different than what he expected to see.

If the beach was so wrong, then how did his dad expect anything else in this place to seem right to him at all?

The worst part of all was that his mom wasn’t there. His parents fought all the time; he didn’t remember a time when they didn’t. Sometimes one of them would leave home for a long time because a fight was particularly bad. Even when one of them screamed at the other not to come back, they always did, eventually.

This time was different. This time Cove had to leave too, and he was never allowed to go back home again.

No matter how Cove cried, pleaded, or even yelled, there was no changing their minds. His dad forced him in the car with some boxes and they drove and drove and drove until they were here in this place his dad now called home.

This wasn’t home. This would never be home. It couldn’t be. Nothing made sense anymore. How could this whole day be anything but the worst nightmare of his life?

Cove was sick of it. He was ready to wake up back in his bed. He wouldn’t even mind if he woke up to the sound of his parents yelling again this time. He just wanted to be back home.

That was why Cove ran away the moment his dad wasn’t paying attention. It was just in time, too. He didn’t want to see all the things wrong about the house his dad kept insisting was “home” now. Just the outside alone had been too much.

With no idea of where to go except “away,” Cove kept running until he reached a place far away from everyone, where no one would find him until he finally woke up. Eventually, he found himself in some overgrown hills dotted covered with white flowers. It reminded him of his hill from back home, but of course it wasn’t right either - his hill never had flowers on it.

The hills were as wrong as everything else in this place, but Cove had been too tired by that point to keep running anymore. He collapsed in the tallest patch of grass, completely drained of everything but his tears.

There Cove sat and shut out the world, hunched up on himself. He didn’t notice when the sun had set and the moon had risen to take its place. The only thing he could do was wish to finally wake up from this nightmare.

A rustle in the grass, louder than any caused by the wind, pulled Cove out of his revere. He turned his gaze towards the source and froze.

A little girl was standing there only a few feet away from him, staring at him with wide blue eyes as dark as the night sky and glittering with starlight. She looked to be about his age, with skin as pale as moonlight and long hair the color of deep water drawn up into two pigtails to create the illusion of twin waterfalls. Despite the ordinary clothes she wore - a teal and white floral sundress, matching shorts, and a pair of flower-themed flip-flops - she didn’t look like a real person. No one had eyes like that. It was as if a piece of the world around him had turned into a kid his age.

For a moment, Cove could only stare back at this unreal girl standing beside him. Then she tilted her head ever so slightly and smiled at him as she raised a hand.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was soft and sweet, but that one word alone was enough to send a jolt through Cove’s entire body. “Are you lost?”

Despite Jamie’s best efforts to appear friendly, the sad boy went on the defensive immediately. He jerked up and was on his feet in seconds, balling his hands into fists at his sides, as though getting ready to run or maybe fight.

Cove said nothing as he stared at the unreal girl. He didn’t have a clue what this nightmare had in store for him now. Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

Now that the boy was facing her, Jamie could see the faint streaks of tears on his cheeks and that his red-rimmed blue eyes shined with the promise of more to come. His clothes were dotted with wet spots, especially on his shorts around his knees. It was clear to her that he had been crying for quite a while.

The thought made Jamie feel sad for him.

Maybe this was the “Cove” boy the creepy stranger had told her about. Children were a rarity in Sunset Bird after all. Jamie felt a little guilty at the thought that the man might have actually been telling the truth about Cove being a real person after all. Maybe Cove had been crying because of what his dad was doing to try and get him friends.

There was only one way to be sure though.

“Who are you?” Jamie asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Cove had to take a moment before he could answer, sniffling away his tears as best he could as he rubbed his flushed cheeks. “My name’s Cove,” he said, his voice rough and shaking a little from his earlier crying. “I’m…”

Cove trailed off, hesitant and unsure about talking to this dream girl. His eyes slipped away from her to their surroundings. There was no one else around - not his dad or any other adult. When he looked back, he saw she was waiting patiently for him to continue, still wearing that gentle smile.

Maybe this was a good thing after all.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing

[darkeninganon]

Look, more Gream (Ghost Dream). No warnings this time, just Puffy and Gream. :)

Ranboo stood in the doorway, staring into the- in his opinion- ugly green room. His beloved particles danced around, whispering warnings and doubts about the ghost that occupied the room. Ranboo did his best to ignore them, but they seemed to know more than even he did, just like...

Ranboo sighed, thinking about his enderwalk state. He had wanted answers, and now he'll likely never get them. Unless he took the risk and performed the ritual. He really didn't want to do that. Perhaps he should go back to asking himself about it.

"Hey Ranboo, you good?"

The half enderman shrieked, tail puffing up as his pupils expanded. He froze for a moment, gaze slowly sliding to Gream, who was leaning back in equal surprise. The ghost had gotten less skittish and fearful of the three teens, no longer apologizing for the slightest infraction. "Fine. Just... thinking." Ranboo supplied, slowly relaxing once her finished speaking. "Do you have plans... for today I mean? I've been here long enough, Phil and Techno are going to get worried at this point."

Gream shook his head. After his scare with the Warden, he wasn't too keen on going out and being found.

Ranboo sighed, "alright. Just... try not to melt anything, okay? Spruce is getting hard to find."

"Right. Sorry." Gream watched as the half enderman nodded and left, disappearing into the massive mansion. As much as he wanted to explore the little country Tubbo had set up, he couldn't find the energy to do so. Still...

Gream wandered the halls, making his way to the basement with a pick-axe before he started digging. Snowchester still didn't have a nether portal, and even if he didn't set it up, he could at least gather the supplies. Mostly obsidian. And diamonds. He needed to learn to be self-sufficient for when they finally caught the man with the gold tooth and locked him away.

Locked him away where though?

Gream jolted, laughing loudly. "I'll get stuff for a prison! Oh, that's going to take so much netherite! Yeah! Layers of water, lava, obsidian, and netherite, and no way to get out!" He stopped, humming in thought. "But, the food will have to be good... cakes? No... Maybe steaks, carrots, soup... not potatoes though. Ew." He'd never say anything, but he really, really hated potatoes. He smiled, happy that he came up with an idea for what to do with those people, locking them away and not having it end in bloodshed.

The prison would have to be massive, and it would also need a courtyard for exercise and sun. It would also need plenty of clocks; keeping someone locked up without any idea of how much time was passing was just too cruel. He should know. Gream stopped. Why should he know what that was like... how long had he been missing? Was it months? Or was it years? Perhaps it was only weeks. Gream shook his head. He couldn't dwell on the past.

He stopped digging, letting out a squeak of surprise as he came to a cave system. His surprise was quickly replaced with glee. This was the perfect place to find coal, ores, lava, and so many other things! Gream took off down the cavern, bouncing on his toes as he scoured the walls, ceiling, and floor for various materials.

Gream stopped dead in his tracks as he came to a wall of lava. Lava falling into a deep lake of more glowing lava. Something about the curtain of melted rock made him... he didn't like it, at all. He wanted it gone, but also not. Gream shook his head, walking around the flowing magma, careful not to touch it. Finally reaching the far end of the pool, Gream realized he forgot a water bucket. Of course he forgot something so simple. With a sigh, the ghost headed back out the cave, climbing the tunnel he created and heading towards the villager trading hall. He'd trade for iron, there were enough emeralds in the chest; he had found it with the help of Ranboo after the Warden had visited. He stopped, spying Michael playing dully with a chicken. A literal, living, breathing chicken. Gream stared, the little pigling looked... sad in a way. Gream ran to the villagers, plan forgoteen, instead grabbing wood and sticks from them. He immediately ran to a clear area, setting up the materials as he took a moment. He had no idea how to built a table, but by the church of prime, he was going to try!

It took probably an hour of Gream contorting himself to finally get one of the four needed legs finally attached to the table. As prime as his witness he was never building another table ever again. A snorting giggle distracted him, turning, he saw Michael standing in the doorway. "Laugh all you want. I'm building this so you have something to play with other than that chicken of yours." The piglin giggled again as Gream set about trying to attache another table leg, finding it much more difficult than the first. His fight with the table stopped as he heard a noise. Did the front door just open?

He was about to call out when whoever had entered beat him to it.

"Michael? Where are you buddy?"

A woman was in the house. Was she friendly? Sure Ranboo and Tubbo wouldn't allow her to know about Michael if she was bad, right? But... Ranboo was pretending to be friends with the Warden, who was working for the man with the gold tooth. So, maybe she was actually allied with the man with the gold tooth.

Clacking hooves on wood knocked Gream out of his own thought. He sent a look to Michael, pressing a finger to his lips, begging the piglin to stay quiet. Gream then ran, ducking into one of the many random closets in the house, leaving the door open just a crack, watching as a sheep-woman came into the room, a little female piglin following close behind.

"Oh, there you are! Where're your dads?"

Michael stared at the woman, silent for a moment. "'Boo went to the other house, 'Bo is out with Uncle!"

"Oh, well that's..." She trailed off, seeing the partially-built table  and tools left out. "If both of your dads are out, who's building this?" She pointed to the project, thoroughly confused.

"Green!" Michael chirped happily, looking to where the ghost was hiding. Gream shook his head, praying the woman didn't look over and see him.

The sheep woman stared at the little piglin boy, face contorting as her confusion grew. "Uhhh... who's Green?"

"He's a ghost! He lives with us now." Gream could have screamed.

"Uh huh... Do Tubbo and Ranboo know about him?"

"Yep! Uncle brought him over. 'Boo doesn't like him too much though."

"And why's that?" She asked, kneeling down to be eye level with the child.

"He likes the color green. His room is green! 'Boo thinks it's ugly."

The woman smiled, ruffling the little fuzz on the piglin's head. "Aw! Well, he can't control what colors people like. Anyways, what's he building here?"

"I dunno. He said it was so I could play with something other than Cluckers." As if by magic, the chicken whose name had been spoken came running, stopping once it reached Michael's side. Immediately Michael began bothering the chicken, the little piglin girl joining in.

The woman huffed out a laugh, standing back up. "Well, how about I help this... Green person, huh? Any idea what he needs?"

"Nope."

"Alright." The woman sighed, looking around. She huffed slightly. "He could have at least left some notes or something... uh... alright, I'm going to get glass and some stuff, alright?" The two piglins nodded, still playing with Michael's pet. The woman turned, leaving the room. Gream stared at the doorway, glancing at the two distracted children before darting out and following her. He kept far enough away that he was sure she wouldn't notice him following her, but so that he could keep an eye on her and see where she was going.

He followed her down the stairs and out of the house. Why was he even doing this? Sure, he had some plans today, but this was much more fun... for some reason. Part of him wished he had a trident, he felt like that would make this whole game even more fun. So caught up in his own thoughts, Gream failed to notice the woman had turned around, freezing as she stared at him.

She then took off at speed he would have thought impossible of someone wearing netherite. He followed, struggling to keep up with her as she jumped into the tunnel and sped off. He didn't have a trident, or any gear to help him, so he had to run across the top. He gave the prison a wide berth, thankful for when the woman finally turned away from the foreboding building to follow a wood path. The prime path, if he recalled correctly.

He continued to follow her, skidding to a halt and ducking behind a sign as she stopped and spun around to face him. He knew she could still see him, but that wasn't the point. It was the principal of the game. What game? He didn't know, but he was having fun. And surely she was as well, since she hadn't yet attacked him.

She stared, head tilting. It was like she couldn't fathom what he was doing. She spun around and took off again, Gream running after her, jumping down the stairs to make sure he didn't lose her. She was so determined to lose him. But, that was part of the fun, right? She did her best to lose him, and he did his best to make sure that didn't happen.

She stopped again at the community house, this time he just ducked to hide by the doorway, peering around the corner at her. She still looked confused. He was somewhat confused too; he'd never thought about chasing someone like this before, but something about her just filled his brain with the need to play with game. She ran to the community portal, leaving him to stand there until she faded from the overworld.

He followed her through, taking a moment to look around. She had gotten a decent head start, or, at least, she would have if he hadn't looked up and seen her looking down at him. It took him another moment or two to find the stairs, running up them to catch her just going up a ladder, higher above. He followed, finding himself on the roof of the nether. Weird.

"How are you out?"

Gream spun, finding the woman standing not far off. She was facing him, axe drawn and pointed. "I... What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Dream." She looked furious, but... scared and sad? Why was she shaking so much?

"Sorry... I thought..."

"You thought what?! You could just... Just go back to things being like they used to?!"

"I don't... I'm not..."

"What, Dream?! What is going on here?!"

"It's... isn't it just a game?"

"A... game?" Her rage seemed to grow at this.

"Me following you."

She stopped, as if turned to stone right then and there. Her face morphed into one of shock, like she hadn't expected him to say that. "I... You think this is about... You think... Dream, what's going on?"

Gream shrugged. "I was bored... I wanted to build a table for Michael, but then you came by, and I was still bored, so I decided to follow you. That sounds really dumb..."

"No! Uh... But, how are you out?"

"Out of the house? I walked. You saw-"

"No, I mean..." She was quiet now, looking at him closer. He squirmed under her harsh gaze, her strange eyes scrutinizing him. She paced around him, holding the axe close. Like most people on this server, she was decked out in fully enchanted netherite. Somehow though, he felt... calm? Like he didn't need to fear her or worry about her using those weapons against him. "you... Are you dead?"

Gream shrugged. "Yeah, guess so. Why?"

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as she gasped loudly. Tears slowly fell from her eyes. "No... who... how?"

Gream tilted his head. Why did she care? "I'm... sorry but... who are you?"

The woman coughed, barely holding back a sob. "I'm... I'm Puffy... Mama Puffy... You're..."

A memory came to his mind in that moment:

He stared down at her, kneeling on top of the blackstone tower. He needed help building those stupid walls, but... by Prime, he wasn't about to ask anyone for help. Puffy though, she was sweet and loved to help. Maybe if he asked for obsidian she'll give him a lot... She was talking to her flock though... something about a "duckling". Wait, why was she looking at him? Oh...

Gream hugged Puffy, letting out a cry of joy. "Puffy!" He was faintly aware of the yelp she let out, surprised by the sudden gesture.

"Uh...You... you remembered?" Her voice cracked, finally caving and openly sobbing as she hugged him back.

"I remember following you... I needed obsidian and thought you could help..." He failed to notice the way she cringed, glancing away from him. He held her shoulders, pushing her away until the she was at arm's length. "Why did I need to build walls? It had something to do with the man with the gold tooth, right?"

Once again her face contorted into confusion. "What? No, it... it was because..." She trailed off, staring back at him. "Have... you seen the L'Manburg pit?"

"Yeah, pretty messed up whoever did that, right?"

She was silent, staring at him for a long time. A sullen smile crossed her face, "Uh, yeah. That... It was. You were going to build walls around L'Manbug... to keep it safe..."

"From the man-"

"Yes. From the man with the gold tooth." She sighed, slowly patting his head. He nuzzled into her touch, smiling beneath his mask. "Why... You know, let's get back to this at another time, alright? We... we have a table to build, after all."

"Right!" Gream jumped away from Puffy, running to set up a boat. He missed the way Puffy frowned, pulling out her communicator and sending a message to Tommy:

You whispered to Tommyinnit: We need to talk.

#Gream #Ghost Dream #mcytg/t #mcyt g/t #Captain Puffy #Dreamwastaken #DreamSMP #DSMP #Mother Puffy is conflicted #on one hand she's got her duckling back #on the other he had to die to come back #and he has no memory of all the bad things he did #he just does stuff now #but Puffy is now aboard the Gream protection train

[kingangelrose]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 8 Recap

“Dark” ------------

In the Atlas prison, Qrow, along with Robyn, Watts and Jacques were hearing the noises of the war outside between the Atlas and the Grimm, but Qrow noticed that there was something headed towards them and suddenly, the wall blew up in front of them causing the roof above them to start collapsing, and all that was seen outside of the giant hole through the wall was a raven cawing.

Meanwhile, back at the Schnee Manor, Klein was treating Nora, as she was slowly regaining consciousness, then Ruby, Weiss and Whitley carry Penny into the room, laying her down on the smaller bed by Nora, Ruby asks Klein if he can help her, Klein says that even what they have told them, he hardly knows what Penny is, but her basic anatomy is similar enough to stitch up her wound.

The power in the manor shut down due to the bombings outside, May calls Ruby on speaking, wanting to know if their okay, Ruby tells her that the bombing cause half of Atlas’ power to go out, but their okay. 

May apologized for not staying with them as she flies her airship, saying that time is running out for the people of Mantle in the carter. Ruby apologizes back and tells May that when they know what’s wrong with Penny, they’ll do something to help them. May then tells her before she signs off to not beat herself up, saying at that point, she doesn’t know how much is left to be done.

Ruby says, with tears in her eye that it’s all too much, The Grimm, The Carter, Nora and Penny, she wanted to know how they could fix all of it, Klein then says they can’t worry about fixing everything and try and focus on fixing things one step at a time, he then says that he can work faster to fix one problem if the power was turned back on.

Willow Scnhee then arrives at the door, saying that they have a generator near the edge of the estate, also saying that she’s above drinking in the dark, then greeting Klein in whom she hasn’t seen in a while. 

Weiss brings up that Schnee Dust Company executives have their own exhilarate power supplies in case of city wide blackout, saying that it’s extremely unfair, but it may be so bad to have company perks. Whitley then says that the SDC just doesn’t have perks, but the whole company. Whitley goes on to say that if the people of Mantle need a way out, they could use the rows of cargo ships sitting in the hangars because of the embargo, Weiss then says that there are also drones there similar to the ones at Snowshoe Shipping, Whitley says that he can order as much as they need to pilot the ships down to the crater and get people to safety while the Grimm are occupied with General Ironwood’s forces, all he needs to do is to access Jacques’ computer.

Ruby and Blake head to the generator to turn it on, while it’s processing, Blake tells Ruby that this will work, Ruby replies by saying that nothing else has. Blake then tells Ruby....

“I know you don’t always know what to do, but that’s never stopped you from doing something. I was like that as a girl, but time and...a lot of other things took their toll on me and then I wasn’t sure if that girl could actually survive in the world...until I met you. It was a little strange at first cause you were younger, but I’ve always looked up to you, Ruby, and I still do.” - Blake Belladonna

Ruby, with tears in her eyes, thanks Blake for those kind words as the generator’s process was now completed and the power was back on in the Schnee Manor, but as soon as they did, Blake’s expression turned to shocked as she saw The Hound in the window right behind Ruby.

The Hound busted through the window, which caused a big noise that was heard inside the manor, causing Willow to reach for her wine bottle shaken. Weiss then contacts Ruby and Blake to know what’s going on, Blake just said that it was a Grimm attack, but they were to occupied with it to say anything else, Weiss then leaves the room to let Whitley carry out the rest of the plan on the computer.

Ruby asked what kind of Grimm is The Hound, but Blake said it was just a Grimm, unaware that it was sentient, telling her to focus on her Silver Eyed Attack while she holds it off, however, it didn’t last long as the Hound made quick work of Blake, it then said “Get The Girl” as it charged and took down Ruby, depleting her aura and holding onto her, The Hound then spread out its wings and was about to fly away with Ruby, but then, Blake used her weapon to wrap around the legs over the Hound, holding it in place, Weiss arrives on the scene, then she warns Klein about the Grimm and tells him to keep everyone together and call if there is trouble.

Inside the manor, Willow dropped her wine bottle and glass, Klein asks her to calm herself, but Willow says she can’t and runs out of the room, but then suddenly,  Penny woke up with glowing red eyes, but as a completely different person, hacked by Watts, Klein tries to treat Penny when he turned around to see her up, but Penny didn’t respond as she pushes him away, but trying to fight to it, Penny activates her maiden powers to try and fight the control off.

Weiss tries to summon a giant ice Grimm to fight off the Hound, but suddenly, the underground Grimm appeared distracting Blake and Weiss, The Hound broke free from Blake’s weapon and then saw the green light emanating from the manor, Ruby warns Weiss and Blake that the Hound is after Penny, the Hound drops Ruby to the ground, knocking her out for a while, Weiss then goes to help Klein and the others while Blake tries to help Ruby, but then out of nowhere a centipede like Grimm comes from underground, confronting Blake.

Back in the manor, Klein tries to Penny to calm down saying that she is okay, but Penny then says that she doesn’t want to help Salem, just then, a now conscious Nora grabs Penny’s hand and tells her that no one will make her do anything that she doesn’t want to do, Penny, still fighting the control says that their is a part of her that is making her do so.

“It’s just a part of you...don’t forget about the rest...” - Nora Valkyrie.

Hearing this, Penny stops her maiden power, holding onto Nora’s hand. Weiss then calls back Klein to let her know she’s on her way to help, Klein asks her to hurry, saying that Willow and Whitley have yet to return.

Willow ran into her room in a panic, she was about reach for her wine bottle, but she decided not to, just then, the Hound busted through the front entrance window, sniffing out Penny, who’s green blood was stained on the floor of the entrance, Weiss entered the manor to search for the Hound, then Willow contacted Weiss shouting “Above you!” and then the Hound came down and struck Weiss to a piano, Weiss was ready to fight it, but the Hound sniffed out something and crawled onto the walls to the hallway, searching.

Willow tells Weiss that she can see the Hound crawl to the hallway near Winter’s old room, then asking if Weiss can kill it, Weiss asks Willow what it’s doing, Willow says that she doesn’t know and asks what it’s doing here, Weiss then says it doesn’t matter and tells her to keep an eye out on it so she can track it down. Willow agrees and keeps a look out, but where the Hound was heading towards next, shocked her.

Willow tries to warn Whitley who was finishing the shipment, but Whitley ignored it and said she was the last thing he needed, just then, the Hound came in the room slowly where Whitley was in, surprised by this, he hid as quick as he could behind the desk, the Hound was sniffing around the room when the computer sounded a notification about the credentials being verified, the Hound was moving closer and closer to the desk, saying “I Know You’re Here...”

Suddenly, a summoned Ice boar Grimm charges and holds down the Hound, Willow arrived and shouted at Whitley to run, which he did, before confirming the orders to the crater. Willow and Whitley ran as fast they could away from the Hound, and before it could get them, Weiss summons an ice wall to defend her mother and brother from The Hound. “I didn’t forget you...” - Weiss Schnee

But the Hound was breaking through the ice wall, Weiss tells Willow and Whitley to run while she fends it off.

While fighting this acid spewing Grimm, Blake then pleads with Ruby to get back up and that she needs her. Blake uses fire and ice clones to try and counter its attacks, but this Grimm was too formidable as it was about to finish her off, but then suddenly, Ruby awakens and finishes off the Grimm, then smiles at Blake, saying that she heard Blake calling her for help, as she helps her up.

Penny then lets out a scream, trying so hard to fight off Watts’ control, but it was too late, Penny succumbed to it and walks out of the room to the entrance area, Whitley asks what she was doing, Penny then said that she was going to the vault and was going to self-terminate, then suddenly, the Hound attacked Penny, but she held him off, then suddenly, the Hound grows another arm on its back, holding on Penny’s head and slamming her down three times. 

The Hound held Penny hostage, and then Ruby with a serious tone said that was enough, then she used her Silver Eyes to blast the Hound through the window of the entrance way, letting go of Penny.

But then, in a shocking turn of event, as the Hound was getting right back up to its feet, it was living person who was the Hound all along, as he was slowly regenerating he kept saying “Take The Girl!”, but as he was slowly headed towards Ruby’s team, Willow and Whitley pushed down the knight statue to take down The Hound, destroying it. Ruby fell to her knees after what she just saw, Weiss asked what it was and all Ruby could as she sees the Hound turn dust... “....That was....a person....” - Ruby Rose

Back at the prison, Cinder Fall removes the debris from Watts’ body and says to him that this is the first time I’d be happy to see him again as she helps him up to his feet. Watts tries to ask what she was doing there, but Cinder covers his mouth and says that it’s her turn to ask for something, as she carries Watts in fireman’s carry position. The Atlas security arrive to stop Cinder from helping Watts escape, but Cinder used her flame semblance to fly above them, dodge the rocket launcher and fly away to the Whale back to Salem. 

----------- The secret of The Hound has been revealed to be a faunus! That means Salem has the power to turn humans and faunus into Grimm Hounds. Is there any hope to turn them back to normal? If not, what will Ruby’s decision be? What of Penny? Will she be able to break free from Watts’ hacking control before she leads herself to destruction? So many questions have yet to be answers and will be found out on the final chapters of RWBY Volume 8.

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