#and shout out to everyone to reminded me to do this xD

[fullmoonandstar]

Sending this BG3 idea to a bunch of different blogs to see what they do with it: Tav uses edging and/or orgasm denial on Raphael to get him to give up the hammer without giving him the crown. (Enjoy! I hope... 😅)

I think I have even read some stories like this xD

The main problem I see is that the only way Tav could succeed is by tying him up, and he would not agree to that. Not on a first time, at least...

Tell me how you like the story, anon :3

Everyone else can say something too, if they want

Devil's Den

Raphael x afab!Tav Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: R Word count: 5.1 k Cw: (temporary) major character death, second-person perspective, light Dom/sub, Restraints, Sub Raphael, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Angst, Heartbreak, Cunnilingus, Woman on Top, Pegging, dom reader, Blow Job

“So, the devil’s den. Tell me, are you such a frequent customer that they gave you your own room, or do you take clients here?”

Raphael laughed.

“This place attracts all kinds of people, and deals come easier when everyone is in the right mindset.”

“Hm, sounds to me like you're avoiding the question.” You made sure to give him an obvious once over, ending on his eyes. Raphael held your stare, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was almost as if at any second now, sparks would start flying between the two of you.

In the corner of your vision, Astarion wrinkled his nose and said: “That’s my cue, I’m leaving.”

He turned on his heels and disappeared through the door, not even looking back to see if anyone would follow.

“What are you doing?” hissed Wyll in your ear, but you just waved his question away. 

“Go ahead to camp, I'll catch up later,” assured him. Your companions followed Astarion, but not without glaring at the devil and giving you looks of bewilderment. When the door closed behind them, you were alone with Raphael. 

“You’re quite brazen, little mouse.” How ever much he liked to play coy, Raphael liked the attention, it showed in the way he held himself. He stood a bit straighter, chest puffed out; he reminded you of a peacock, all made up, trying to impress his potential mate. 

“Well, you always say you’re fond of me; and I” — place a hand on his chest- “wonder just how much.”

You looked up through your eyelashes and hoped that the devil’s flirting had some substance. For a heartbeat, Raphael was at a loss for words, and you wondered if anyone else ever tried this. They must have, man is nothing if not charismatic, a trait that got him plenty of souls, so there had to have been some advances in the past. 

“It’s not my usual way of dealing with clients,” he said in a low voice, subconsciously leaning in. His hand came to rest on top of yours.

“I’m special,” you said, leaning in closer. 

Heat radiated off his body, under your palms, the unholy fire of the hells was burning, inside his veins and even in his human guise could not suppress it entirely. 

“You really want to bed a devil?” His tone was a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

“What else am I to do in the devil’s den?” you breathed. “Not any devil, you.”

His hand cupped your cheek almost lovingly, and you leaned in, finally closing the distance. His lips warmed your whole body with their soft feel and their determined movement. You didn’t feel like pushing your luck and let him dictate the pace of the kiss. It was surprisingly slow, but then again, he was someone who played the long game. You ran your hand over his chest and around to his back, pressing your body into his.

The bed had clearly not been used recently, but the sheets were quite lavish. To your surprise, you didn’t land on your back, instead Raphael lay down and waited for you to follow. You crawled on top of him.

The whole camp piqued up when you enter the door to the rented rooms on the top floor of the Elfsong Tavern.

“You’re alive!” Jaheira shouted from across the room. Her voice was a mixture of relief and anger, like a mother who just found her child wandering back home from a night lost in the woods. Now everyone knew you were back, and they swarmed to the door. A winged figure turned the corner and crossed her arms.

“Oh, you didn’t?!” Hissed Mizora. “You fucked Raphael?! You clearly have no taste.”

“You’re just jealous, she didn’t do you,” Shadowheart said.

“Fuck off, Mizora,” you said and waved at her to go away. She wrinkled her nose, and in a flash, she was gone.

“What in the hells were you doing?” Gale asked. “You slept with a devil and not just any devil but Raphael? Have you gone mad?”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” you said. “I need to go to the Red Boutique tomorrow.”

“What’s the Red Boutique?” Wyll and Gale at the same time, and Gale added, “This really isn’t the time to go shopping.”

“It’s a toy shop.” Shadowheart grinned. As a fellow Baldurean she, of course, knew of this particular, but that Wyll didn’t seem to have heard of it struck you as odd.

“What?”

Gale’s utter confusion was almost comical, but Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Toys to use in bed, dear. Definitely not for kids.” Addressing you, Astarion added: “So you plan to go back?”

You nodded. Gale’s face twisted in silent shock and disbelief.

“And there is something else I need.”

Gale had not recovered from the fact that you not only had slept with Raphael and planned to go back. You touched his hand to get his attention. 

“Gale, is there a way to bind a devil?”

You went back to the devil’s den a few days later, with your newly acquired toys from the red boutique — a selection of differently sized phalluses and a harness — and as expected, it was a great hit with the devil. If your first encounter had taught you anything, it was that Raphael liked to let others do the work, and you indulged him.

Shadowheart sat down next to you, and you knew she wanted something.

“What is it,” you asked.

“So, you have been visiting Sharress’ Caress quite a few times.”

This was where this was going. Astarion appeared seemingly out of thin air to listen in on this conversation. 

“What is it like to sleep with a devil?”

“Erm…”

You thought about how to put it.

“He’s a pillow princess who lets you do the work” you said finally. “but…”

You hesitated. Talking about your intimate moments was a bit embarrassing, even you didn’t feel it while doing them.

“But what?” Astarion asked with an annoyed edge in his voice.

“I like taking charge and, well, the ridges on his …”

You bit your lip, already regretting having revealed as much as you had.

“You fucked him in his true form too?” Astarion exclaimed.

You didn’t say anything.

“How long will you keep this up?” Gale asked after you got back from one of the encounters with Raphael. “We have to do something about the brain. We have to take the crown and end this.”

“I have to wait for the right moment.”

“The right moment?”

“Yes,” you said. “If I asked him to put on the thing too early, he may get suspicious and burn me to a crisp.”

Gale nodded slowly, but his face spoke volumes of his worry.

“It’s a very dangerous game you're playing.”

The sun was setting over Baldur’s Gate and you were on your way to Wyrm's Crossing. You and Raphael had never set a schedule, you had just shown up at the brothel, and sometimes he had been there, other times the devil's den had been empty.

You entered Sharress’ Caress through the main door and Mamzell greeted you.

“He is waiting for you.”

She handed you a bottle.

“What is this for?”

“Well, it’s for you.”

It was a wine you liked, but you didn’t know what to do with it. 

“Thanks.”

“Have a stimulating evening.” Mamzell cooed and you made your way upstairs.

From the moment you entered the door, you felt that something was different. You looked around but didn’t see Raphael, what you did see however were candles, but they had been placed around the room not for just light, no, it looked more intentional. They had been placed for aesthetic. The fresh flowers in the vases that were arranged on the around the room filled the air with a sweet and fresh aroma.

“I had a feeling you would come today.”

Raphael’s voice came from the back area where the bed was, and you walked over to see him doing something at a dresser. He gave you a brief look over his shoulder, flashing a smile. Everything about him took you by surprise. His smile was not the usual smirk of self-importance and superiority, but it was warm and struck something in you. He wasn’t wearing one of his usual outfits either, but a flowing, silky robe the colour of fresh blood that was held in place by a belt of the same material. Even on a normal day, he was handsome, but today you were too stunned to move or say anything.

He turned around and came closer. Even though you had seen him in various stages of undress, the way the robe hugged his body and exposed just the right amount of his chest, made your heart beat faster.

“Give that to me.”

He reached for the bottle, and you pulled yourself together enough to hand it to him. On the dresser, stood several glasses, and he poured you some wine while he took the small glass with a dark reddish brown colour liquid.

“What is that?” you asked, curious what he was drinking. “Can I try it?”

“It’s whisky. From home.”

“Oh, no.”

Baator whiskey was said to burn as hot as Avernus and as sweet as the touch of a lover, but mortals didn't take well to it. Raphael smiled again, and your stomach twisted with how filled with affection it was.

“Here.”

He drank everything in one go, set the glass down behind him, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. You could taste the drink on his tongue, the diluted whiskey added a feeling to the kiss that you hadn’t experienced before. If you hadn’t known better, you would have guessed it was some sort of aphrodisiac. A fire filled your body, an arch that reminded you of the anticipation of being with someone. You melted into Raphael’s arms, and you lost yourself in the kiss.

You could not tell how long it took until the feeling faded, but when it did you pulled back just enough to take a deep breath. Your head rested on his chest and he planted a kiss on the top of your head. He had never done that before.

“Looks like you rather enjoyed that, little mouse”

He said, against your hair. “But don’t try to drink it.”

You ran your hands over the fine robe, exploring his back again and still ravelling in how good he felt pressed against you. Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up next to him? Your hands stopped. Oh gods, let's never think about that again, you thought. The day had come, it was time to execute your plan.

“I won’t. Promise,” you said and pulled out of his embrace. “But it was … stimulating.”

He laughed and your heart jumped. What is up with me today? Get it together.

“I’ve brought you something, maybe you want to try it out.”

“Oh?,” he smiled, intrigued. “What is it?”

You pulled out a pair of manacles, he lifted an eyebrow and took them from you. He inspected them, turning the dark metal in his hands, and a worry gnawed at you that he would see right through you.

“You want me chained up and helpless at your mercy?”

The dangerous edge in his voice made you stiffen, and you opened your mouth to say anything, but he didn’t let you. “That’s very much like you to enjoy something like that. Well, I do rather like when you take charge.”

He handed them back to you with an easy smile.

“I’ll indulge you, pet. How do you want to have me?”

“You have to work today,” you purred, covering up your moment of fear and ran your finger along his jaw. “Show that you deserve what I’m going to give you and if I’m pleased- ”you grabbed his chin and caressed his lower lip with your thumb, “-  I will reward you.”

He nodded, his pupils blown wide open like a cat about to roll in Nepeta cataria. This night would end badly, but until then, you would enjoy having Raphael wrapped around your finger.

“Should I lie down?”

“No.” you drew out the vowel and slapped away the hand that was reaching to undo his robe.

“Kiss me.” You said, and he obliged. His soft lips moved sensually against yours, and you let your hands roam his body. Your finger followed the hem of his robe down his chest, dragging your nails lightly over his muscles and teasing at the band that held the robe in place.

You pulled away from the kiss, and Raphael followed your movement, not ready to lose contact just yet. You gave him a peck on the lips and used your hand on his chest to hold him a bit further away.

“I like your kissing, but I wonder what else that tongue of yours is good for.”

He exhaled audibly. You stepped back and removed your all clothes except your underwear.

“Now, be creative, pet. If you make me come, you get to be on the bed.”

A smirk flickered over his face at the nickname that was replaced a moment later by an expression that you could only describe as unadulterated lust. He kissed you again, but this time with new-found intensity, desperate for something. His lips didn’t linger for long on yours, but moved along your jaw and down your neck, eliciting a shiver from you. His hands roamed your body and landed on your chest. He took your breasts into his hands and massaged them, teased the sensitive nipples to come to a point.

“I know what you want from me,” he whispered into your ear, and you froze. He stepped back with a mischievous glitter in his eyes. “But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

His hands were on you again, slowly dragging your panties down and you step out of them. The underwear went flying and a moment later you saw what the thing was, shouldn’t tell anyone about. He sank to his knees in front of you, looking up through his lashes, and peppered your exposed stomach with kisses.

His hand guided your right leg to rest on his shoulder before kissing further down. When his clever tongue made contact with your clit, you grabbed his hair. Raphael moaned into your skin and closed his eyes, fully concentrating on the task at hand. His tongue moved to your entrance, circling the sensitive skin but not dipping in. He covered your clit with his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue against it.

“Oh gods,” you whispered. The pleasure was building inside you like steam in a kettle, and you were almost ready to blow. Your hand had a firm grip on his hair, ready to get him in line should he even think about pulling back. Your legs started shaking in anticipation, and the only things preventing you from falling were Raphael’s hands on your hips. He sucked your clit and your whole body stiffened as a wave of bliss rolled over you.

After you reached your climax, he slowed down, licking and sucking diligently until you loosened your grip on his hair. He moved his attention to your entrance, making you moan as his hot tongue made contact with your sensitive flesh. He lapped up the signs of your release, and a low groan rumbled in his chest.

You gave his hair a light tug and he pulled back. You swallowed hard at the sight of him, kneeling, face wet and looking up as if there were nothing else in the world but you. You took a shaky breath and removed your leg from his shoulder.

“And why exactly have we never done this before?” You wondered out loud, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.  Raphael leaned into your touch, and you combed your fingers through his soft hair.

“Let’s clean you up.”

You turned and walked on wobbly legs over to the wash basin. You picked up a wet cloth, returned to Raphael who still sat on the ground and cleaned his face.

“There you go. Now, lie on the bed for me. On your back and get comfortable.”

He followed your request, and you chained him to the metal hoop that perturbed from the wall. You stepped back to commit the image to memory. Raphael lay on top of the covers, he had disrobed, but the red silk was draped over him to cover his private parts and his chest. It looked a bit as if he were bleeding from a wound in his left shoulder, and the stream of red had run down his body. His arms were held up by the manacles, but they had enough slack to so he could rest them against the headboard of the bed.

You ran your hands up his spread legs and crawled onto the bed. Both of his forms had their charms, but you loved how soft his skin felt in his human guise, the little hairs tickled your palms so nicely. You planted open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his thighs and were pleased with the shiver that ran through his body. Pushing his knees-up revealed a nice surprise for you.

“Look who came prepared.”

That was the first time he didn’t smile that overconfident smile of his, instead his eyes were dark with lust and an uncertainty that you had never seen on his face.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t come?” you taunted and moved further up his body until your arms rested on either side of his handsome face, and you looked down on him. “Walk around making deals while you had a plug in your tight little ass?”

His eyes gleamed, and he finally said in a small voice: “Yes.”

“I do like preparedness.” you said. “I think you deserve a little treat.”

A brief kiss elicited a soft moan from him. From your backpack, you produced a harness and an array of dildos you had bought from the Red Boutique. In previous encounters, you had noticed a pattern of what Raphael’s favourites tended to be, and you held up the three most likely candidates for tonight.

“What is it going to be?”

When he glanced at the objects, his erection twitched under the folds of the robe.

“The glass one.” 

His voice was more casual, as if he was ordering food in a tavern, not choosing the instrument that would penetrate him soon. You put the other toys back in the backpack and slipped into the harness, adjusting then numerous straps to fit your hip and offer enough support for the hefty phallus. The solid glass toy had been the most expansive thing you had bought for your adventures with Raphael, and he enjoyed the cool, ridged surface of the handcrafted item. You guessed it reminded him of someone.

The glass dildo hung heavy between your legs as you walked over to the head of the bed and positioned your hips at eye level with Raphael. He stared at the toy, and with a raised eyebrow up at you.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, your mouth did so wonderfully already. I think, it can do more.”

Neither the dildo nor the harness provided any friction, but the sight of him could ignite your arousal again.

His lips closed around the glass, his breath briefly condensing on the cool surface. You rocked your hips back and forth slowly, watching as the toy slipped a bit deeper into his mouth and back out again. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you pulled lightly. He moaned around the toy and closed his eyes as you gently fucked his mouth.

“Look at you, little devil,” you said. “You take my dick so well.”

The praise encouraged him to take more into his mouth, but he was too ambitious and gagged a moment later. You pulled out.

“You’re doing so good today,” you praised. “but don’t get too cocky.”

“Whatever do you mean, I’m a picture of modesty.” Your laughs echoed around the room.

You positioned yourself between his legs and without ceremony you pulled out the plug, leaving him nice and open for what was to come.

With a more lubricant, the glass dildo slid into him with little resistance. As much as you loved the stretch and friction of riding him, this position was empowering. You held his thighs pressed against you, for no other reason than that you liked how they felt in your arms, thick, powerful and hot. The pillow positioned under his hips made it easy for you to rock your faux cock into his heat.

His hair stuck to his forehead and a thin layer of sweat covered his body. In his true form you had never seen him sweat, but it always happened in his human form and you loved it. His mouth hung open, and his brows were furrowed, little gasps escaping him when you thrust into him just right. He flexed the muscles in his arms, helpless to change his position to get more friction.

A wave of affection washed over you, seeing him struggle so beautifully. You let his thighs go, and shifted your position until your lips captured his and your tongue pushed into his welcoming mouth. He moaned into your kiss, pressed his body up at you and arched his back. Your hips halted, the glass cock buried as deep inside as possible.

“Don’t stop!” Raphael whined. “Why did you stop?!”

“Who said you were allowed to come yet?”

His eyes went big, a look so very unlike him. You laughed and planted a kiss on his lips, then you pulled out.

“I want to have my fun too.” You said and loosened the straps of the harness.  Raphael’s eyes followed the movement of your hands, but his gaze wandered around your body. He was desperate for stimulation, but you let him wait. Washing the toy in the basin right then was not necessary, but the effect it had was precisely what you had hoped. Raphael whimpered and rattled his chains, but he wasn’t desperate enough to use his powers to break free.

You dried the toy and threw it back in your backpack. The hardest part was yet to come, and that surprised you. Raphael, though charming, was a devil, he did evil things to all kinds of people, so why was it hard for you now to go through with your plan?

“Are you done yet?”

He tried to sound commanding, but it came off as desperate.

“Why? Do you miss me?” you taunted. Raphael clenched his jaw and looked at the ceiling. You couldn't help yourself, it was so easy to tease him in his current position. In your backpack, you found a book that you had forgotten was there, and you opened it, reading a whole two pages before Raphael sighed.

“Yes, I miss you. Now come back.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Please.” he grumbled. 

“Well, if you ask so nicely.”

His head sank into the pillow again when he saw you walking to the bed. The wait had drained his erection, exactly as it should be.

When you straddled his hips, Raphael sucked in air sharply. He hadn't found his release yet, and it was starting to get to him. He buckled his hips, searching for some friction, desperate, so very much unlike the smug in control devil he was the rest of the time. You indulged him and sighed when he got hard again between your legs, dragging his length through your folds. Your core throbbed, and your insides twisted with want. For you too, it had been hard to endure teasing him, seeing him helpless, so at your mercy and hearing him moan and whimper at your touch.

You took him into your hand. With a few strokes, he was full hard, and you couldn't wait any longer; you sank down on him. He cursed. Even you didn't understand what he had said, in that tone it could hardly be anything else.

As much as you loved the overwhelming feeling of his ridged cock when he was in his true from, his human guise was a bit easier on your body. You rode him slowly, rolling your hips and taking note when he pressed into you just right and when Raphael moaned. His voice was really the thing that pushed you over the edge.

You dragged your nails over his chest and abdomen, feeling the muscles harden under your touch, and heard his desperate noises. You rocked your hips and the tide broke, sweeping you away again.

Raphael whined when you stopped abruptly. You had got way off course, but by some miracle you still had him where you needed him. He licked his lips and said breathlessly: “Don't you dare stop again, mortal.”

His breathing was heavy, and he strained against the chains. Raphael could break them. You were afraid he may yet do so if you teased him more, so instead you raised an eyebrow and said mockingly : “At your service, oh mighty Raphael.”

You said a slow pace, and he closed his eyes, concentrating. This was it.

You reached out and touched both manacles and said the last words of the incantation: “Potentiam exhauri et liga.”

The metal started to glow, but it felt like ice under your fingers. Raphael was engrossed in the feeling of you on top of him, that there was a noticeable delay between you uttering the words and his eyes snapping open.

“What did you say?”

He searched your face for context but didn't find any answers. His eyes fell on the chains and he grimaced.

You expected him to thrash, to throw you off, but for a few heartbeats he just lay there under you, still connected.

“Give me the hammer.”

“What hammer?” He asked coolly.

“The Orphic hammer.”

“If you want it, you'll have to give me the Crown of Karsus. That is the deal I offered.”

“No.” You grabbed his chin and his eyes widened. “You will tell me where the hammer is, how to get it, and you will get one thing. You get to leave.”

To make your point, you rocked your hips and as expected, he sucked in air sharply.

“If you think you can extort me with torture, you are wrong.”

You didn't believe a word he said. He was close to breaking, you could feel it, he just needed a push. You pushed yourself off him, letting him slip out of your warm embrace, and savoured the feeling of superiority when he clenched his jaw tight to stop any sound from escaping.

You brushed a lock of hair out of his face as he stared into your eyes, willing you to finally let him come undone.

“Give me the hammer, and I'll give you a hand.”

He took a shaky breath. His erection looked painfully hard, and your hand caressing his chest only worsened it. He closed his eyes, and you knew you had won.

You closed the door to the devil's den, after telling Gale's mirror image how to get the hammer from the House of Hope. Raphael was still tied to the bed, fuming, but very much not undone. You sat on the bed next to him with a warm wet cloth and cleaned his cock while he hissed.

“What are you doing?”

You tossed the cloth in the direction of the water basin and took him into your hand, stroking him back to full hardness.

“Even if this negotiation didn't go according to your plan, I intend to uphold my end of the deal.”

Before he could say anything, you closed your mouth around his tip and threw his head back. This would be the last time you heard that wonderful voice of his sing for you in ecstasy, the last time his body trembled under you as he released approached and the final time he arched his back off this bed, and you savoured it. Licking the under side of his cock, sucking and swirling your tongue around the tip. His hips buckled, and he poured himself into your mouth.

Raphael stayed silent while packed your scattered things and got dressed. You sat down on the bed afterward, and kept an eye on him. The chains robbed him of his powers, but he hadn't got this far in his life by just his charms. If he broke free now, he would kill you and then your companions in his house.

“Why didn't you just give me the crown?” He asked finally.

“Why?!” You shook your head. “Do you really need an explanation?”

“You have already caught me with me pants down, so humour me, cheater.”

“Fine.” You snapped. “If gave you the crown, what would happen? Maybe you would conquer the hells or maybe not. Mephisto didn't use it to overthrow Asmodeus despite having it for ages and hating the ruler of the hells. what does that tell you?”

You waved the hypothetical question away.

“Let's say you make it, let's say you actually make it all the way to the top of the food chain. What then, Raphael?” You didn't wait for him to answer, and continued: “do you really think you will lounge on a throne in Nessus for the rest of time? You? No, Raphael, that could never be you. You will take over everything you can until all the planes in existence are under your rule.”

“I would n-”

A knock on the door silenced him, and you walked over to see who was there. Lae'zel held a silver hammer in her bloody hands, a determined expression on her face.

“We have it.”

You gave her a weak smile.

“I'll tie up some loose ends and meet you at camp.”

She nodded grimly, holding the hammer tightly, and vanished into dawn. You closed the door and picked up your backpack, rummaging in it before finding what you were looking for and carefully pushed it in your back pocket.

“The heist was successful.” Raphael said bitterly, but his grimace changed into confusion when you straddled his chest. You ran your fingers over his warm smooth skin from his temple along his jaw to his chin. 

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Raphael.”

You planted a kiss on his soft lips and rammed the dagger into his heart. 

Check my Masterlist for more

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x reader #sub raphael bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3

[animeomegas]

24 Hours - Chapter 6

[Alpha!Reader x Omega!Sasuke x Omega!Naruto]

Summary: You were resolutely avoiding thinking about how you were going to pick your future after this whole experience, because every day made it harder and harder. This cycle was both the one you expected the most and had never considered. GN!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Warnings: n-sfw content. 

(This is it! The final main chapter before the epilogue!! I hope everyone has had a good time with this! It’s now up to @omeganronpa​ to choose the epilogue and let me say that I don’t envy that position XD I do not pick it, so don’t waste your breath asking me for anything haha. Happy holidays everyone! 💕💕)

Word Count: 6.3k

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Epilogue

You knew something wasn’t quite right as you started to regain consciousness. The summer breeze was gone now, as was the smell of flowers, but that wasn’t it. It was… weight. Something heavy was on top of you.

Wait, what?

You lurched forward suddenly, sending the weight sprawling off you and on to the floor with a yelp.

“Hey! What was that for?!” the weight yelled from somewhere on the floor.

Oh, this was your next 24-hour cycle.

“You will have 24 hours with the seven people you could love the most and who could love you in return. Learn so that you may choose wisely.”

Right, thanks, a bit late on the reminder this time because you had just tossed this day’s omega directly onto the floor. That was not what a good mate did.

More importantly though, you knew that voice.

A fluffy head of blond, spiky hair popped up over the side of the bed, the man it was attached to rubbing the back of his head and directing a grumpy look at you.

“Naruto?” you asked, delighted. You had been wondering if you’d be mated to any of your teammates during this thing, and here you were! It was also a relief to be paired with someone you knew a little better; you’d hopefully have more to say and less of a chance of asking the wrong question.

“Yeah?” he asked, climbing off the floor. “You totally need to say sorry for throwing me off the-oh fuck! Is that the time?!”

Suddenly, all traces of sleepiness and grumpiness fled Naruto immediately and he launched himself up on his feet and lurched to a nearby wardrobe before rifling through it.

“I am so late! Shikamaru’s gonna be pissed!” he whined, frantically grabbing clothes and trying to change and pack a bag at the same time.

You just watched him, scrambling to get your bearings. Naruto looked so different to the boy you’d met when you were still single digit aged children. His shoulders had broadened considerably, his voice was deeper and the way he held himself was different too.

You didn’t have to speculate over how you might have ended up with Naruto because you already knew. You’d been friends and teammates for years and you’d bonded over many shared experiences and traumas. You were incredibly close to Naruto, even after the long period away he’d spent with Jiraiya.

As you watched Naruto trip trying to pull up his trousers and get to the bathroom to brush his teeth at the same time, you thought about those early genin days. The sleepovers with Sakura, pranking mean shopkeepers with Naruto, shouting at Kakashi for being late… It was a little painful to think about those simpler days. Everything had changed so much.

After furiously brushing his teeth, Naruto emerged from the bathroom, little patches of toothpaste still lingering at the corner of his mouth.

“Ugh, I still can’t believe he didn’t wake either of us,” Naruto grumbled, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

What? That sentence didn’t make any sense to you. Was someone supposed to have come round and… picked Naruto up for work or something? You got out of bed just as Naruto ran out of the room. You could hear his footsteps pounding down the stairs and you decided to follow him, leaping out of bed yourself.

You didn’t have time to explore the rooms upstairs, but if Naruto was going to work, then you’d have time to do so later. So many thoughts were running through your head as you went down the stairs that you couldn’t pinpoint one to focus on.

One thought became dominant when you saw the hokage robes and hat hanging by the front door. Was Naruto the hokage? Had he really done it? You couldn’t stop the grin from forming on your face. He was so impossibly amazing. You felt an overwhelming urge to hug him, but he had disappeared further into the house. You followed where you thought he’d gone, almost skipping as you did. You couldn’t believe that not only was Naruto hokage, but you were mated to him!! Naruto! Who was the hokage!

As you approached what looked like a living dining room, you could hear Naruto’s voice once again, although it was too low for you to make out any words. Who was he talking to?

You peered around the corner, conscious that you were in your pyjamas still, and saw Naruto crouched in front of the sofa, talking to someone. Only the back of their head was visible, but your heart lurched as you figured out who the man must be.

You watched as Naruto pulled a blanket over the other man’s shoulder, and even though he slapped at Naruto’s hands, he didn’t remove the blanket once it was there.

“-in pre heat, not dying, moron,” the man replied, just loud enough for you to catch the end of the sentence.

It was him. You were sure of it. The black hair, his voice. You watched as Naruto pecked him on the lips. Oh.

You ducked back into the corridor, feeling overwhelmed. It was there that you noticed all the pictures lining the walls.

The biggest one was from a wedding ceremony, with you, Sasuke and Naruto standing in the middle, a just visible Sakura and Kakashi stood on the edges. The second picture to capture your attention was one of you and Naruto each kissing one cheek of a very grumpy looking Sasuke. Then there was one from a dinner party, presumably after the wedding because all the clothes were the same. This time you spotted Iruka, Sai and Shikamaru there too.

There were pictures like that everywhere, on every surface and spare bit of wall space.

You, Naruto and Sasuke had… you’d…

Naruto had brought him back, you knew it must have been him, he’d then become hokage and the three of you had clearly got together.

It was… unbelievable, but you could see it. The more you thought about it, the more you understood.

Naruto walked out of the living room and into the corridor where you were standing, and you didn’t know what to do other than tear up and throw yourself at him for a hug.

“Woah, hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you. It only made more tears appear to have him treat you so softly. “What’s going on? You okay?”

You just sniffed and squeezed him.

“Don’t cry,” he said, squeezing you back. “Because then I’ll cry, and I won’t even know why we’re crying.”

You laughed wetly and pulled back, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you cleared your throat and wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened there, got overwhelmed I guess.”

Naruto nodded but looked towards the door anxiously.

“I really have to go, but I’m only going for the morning, I’ll be back this afternoon as planned, I promise!” he said, looking guilty over leaving you and Sasuke. “His heat isn’t supposed to hit until tomorrow, so everything will be fine, please don’t cry.”

Sasuke’s heat? Yes, you had heard him talk about pre heat earlier, that made sense. He must have thought you were crying because you were worried or overwhelmed about that. Naruto seemed to be hovering by the door, waiting to hear your response before leaving.

“Okay,” you said, pulling yourself together. “I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?”

Naruto grinned.

“Believe it!”

And with that, he was out the front door like a flash, leaving you and Sasuke home alone. How many times had you imagined a scenario like this? Seeing Sasuke again in Konoha? Too many.

You walked towards the living room, towards Sasuke, like you were possessed. You had to go to him, to see him for yourself and know that he was okay.

You tentatively stepped back into the living room and around the couch until you could see Sasuke’s face. All the air felt like it was punched out of you. It was really, truly him.

His hair was differently styled, longer than you remembered, but just as inky black. The blanket that Naruto had draped over him was still there, covering what looked like lounge clothes, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly hazy. Pre heat, your mind supplied, he was in pre heat.

It was weird to see him older, but weirder to see him in such a vulnerable state. He always tried so hard to avoid situations where someone might see him not on top form. But here he was.

“Good morning,” you whispered, still staring at him.

“Good morning,” came a quiet reply. And that was enough to overwhelm your common sense completely.

You surged forward and the last thing you saw before you pressed your lips against his was the slight widening of his eyes. You were desperate to touch him, your hands flitting from his face to his neck to his chest. You needed to feel him to know it was real. His hands were hovering in shock, but slowly they came to rest on your shoulders and his kissing back got more enthusiastic.

You kissed, and you kissed, and you kissed until your lips were warm and starting to swell. You were soothing yourself with his presence and he appeared happy to let you. The little noises escaping from him added so much to the kiss. When you bit his bottom lip, he gasped. When you sucked on his tongue, he moaned. When you put pressure on his neck with your hands, he basically melted into your grasp.

Your mind was going haywire. He was safe. He was home. He was in heat. And he was yours.

You eventually pulled away to breathe, but something was burning at the back of your throat as you panted. You couldn’t place the cause of it for a moment, but then it hit you like a kunai handle to the head.

It was the scent of slick.

Sasuke appeared to realise it at the same time you did. You saw him panic and start to close off and pull away, but you couldn’t let him pull away, not when the last time he’d done that he’d ended up with Orochimaru. So, you pressed forward again.

You reconnected your lips, but this time with enough force to knock him backwards. Once he was laying down on the couch, you climbed over him and hovered above his hips as you kissed.

Sasuke whined and bared his neck for you now that you were on top. It was pretty normal behaviour for an omega in pre heat being kissed by their mate, but it lit a fire under you anyway.

Had that night with Haku removed your awkwardness around sex completely? Because you didn’t feel anything but desire right now.

No, you just wanted to prove to yourself that Sasuke was real, and the pheromones he was pumping out were messing with your head, that sounded more accurate.

You had flashes of memories from last night invade your mind too, but you tried to push them away, fearing it to be disrespectful to think of another omega at a time like this.

You focused instead on kissing and biting your way down his neck. He was yours. Yours and Naruto’s too. Orochimaru couldn’t have him, you wouldn’t let it happen, not again, never again.

“Stop!” Sasuke said suddenly, voice weak and strangled. “Stop, y-you’ll trigger it early, I don’t want that.”

He pushed at your chest, and you climbed off him as requested. It was like a spell had broken. You could think clearly now, and you had no idea what that reaction had just been. You felt embarrassed that you had lost yourself like that.

You both panted for a while to catch your breath, you sitting on the floor by the couch while Sasuke remained laying on it.

Eventually, Sasuke started to squirm in discomfort. Probably from all the slick leaking into his underwear, which was something you tried very hard to avoid imagining and still failed. He got up, mumbling something you couldn’t make out before scurrying up the stairs, embarrassed.

You let out your own relieved breath as he left. That had been intense.

You sat for a few minutes, just sorting out your emotions towards the situation before you realised that you had an omega in pre heat that you had to look after. You didn’t know how to do that.

Let’s think, what were pre heat symptoms? You grabbed a pad of paper from the coffee table and wrote down a list of everything you could remember from your academy classes.

Pre heat symptoms

·         Large appetite

·         Sleeps more

·         Clingy w/ loved ones, esp. mates

·         Emotional fluctuation

·         Desire to nest and maybe clean/organise nest?

·         ???

You stared at the list, irritated that you had forgot most of the lessons on dynamics from the academy. Not that those lesson weren’t shit anyway.

Regardless, the list was the only thing you had to go on, so you should probably cook a bunch of food for when Sasuke eventually came down, and maybe after eating he’d want a nap? You could bundle him up on the sofa maybe.

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan! Or at least the best plan you had. And hopefully Naruto would be home after that. He would know what to do.

So, you stood up and found the kitchen and then started to cook anything and everything you could find in the kitchen to provide for your mate during his pre heat. You wanted to make sure that you were taking care of him like a mate should; Sasuke shouldn’t carry the burden for your ill preparedness, after all.

…

About twenty minutes later, Sasuke came back down in different clothes, his hair damp from the shower. You were still making up a tray full of food for him, thankfully future you had obviously stocked the kitchen in advance. You also felt confident that you had a good grasp on the kinds of food he liked, which took some of the stress away.

While you finished up the cooking, Sasuke fluttered back and forth between sitting in the living room with his blanket from earlier and coming into the kitchen to watch you cook in silence. His pre heat was likely making him feel lonely, but the kitchen didn’t provide as much comfort as the soft furnishings on the couch.

By the time you were done, you had filled the tray with all sorts of foods and snacks. Admittedly, you probably went overboard, but you’d never cooked for an omega in pre heat and you weren’t sure how hungry they got and you’d rather have too much than too little.

You carried the heaving tray into the living room where Sasuke seemed the most comfortable and slid it onto the coffee table. Sasuke’s stomach growled as you did so, and your inner alpha purred happily at the thought that you had predicted and met your omega’s needs.

Damn, this ‘being around an omega in heat’ thing was driving your instincts wild. You didn’t realise it would be so strong.

Sasuke didn’t say thank you, but he did press himself up against your side once you sat down, which was basically the same thing in Uchiha speak. He ate slowly and methodically, which made you worry that you had indeed made too much food, but despite his slow speed, he didn’t stop after one plate, or two plates, or three plates. In fact, he didn’t stop until the entire tray was empty.

Iruka sensei clearly hadn’t been lying about the hunger part of pre heat. You knew it was because of his need to store calories that would be burnt off during his heat and not so easily replaced when his appetite dropped. You had heard of omegas who barely ate anything during their heats, so it was the safest strategy to stock up beforehand.

When he swallowed his last mouthful, Sasuke sighed contentedly and put more weight against your side.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, pressing a hand to his forehead. He was definitely warmer than normal.

“I’m fine,” Sasuke replied, his words almost interrupted by a yawn. That’s right, he should be getting sleepy now. Along with conserving calories, omegas in pre heat also had to conserve energy in case their heat was intense enough to keep them awake for 2-3 days.

You pushed all the empty plates and cutlery onto the coffee table and made sure the couch was clear of all debris.

“Hey, why don’t you take a nap?” you said gently. The Sasuke you remembered probably wouldn’t take too kindly to such a suggestion, but this Sasuke seemed to begrudgingly agree because he pulled his blanket back around his shoulders and made himself comfy on your shoulder.

It was so cute that he immediately used you as a pillow.

You leant back to allow him a better angle and his breathing dropped almost immediately. He must have been tired.

As Sasuke dozed, pressed up against your side, you finally had time to think.

The first thoughts in your head were about Sasuke. You still couldn’t believe that Naruto had fulfilled his promise of bringing Sasuke home to Konoha and that he’d seemingly escaped any major punishment for his actions while he was a missing nin. It filled you with excitement for the day that your Sasuke would return home, whether that was in a romantic or platonic context, you weren’t sure yet.

It felt natural to go from thinking about that to thinking about the relationship you had with both Naruto and Sasuke in this version of your future. You wouldn’t have really considered such a thing, but that didn’t mean you didn’t fully understand how you could be happy with them. A lot of the things you had thought about Naruto earlier, also applied to Sasuke. All three of you had gone through so much together and you’d always be closer than close. And in this world, that closeness was apparently really close.

Like, really close, you thought as Sasuke breathed on your neck.

Also, you couldn’t lie, it would be worth picking this future just to see the look on everyone’s face, especially Kakashi sensei’s, when you mated both the team omegas.

Would Naruto and Sasuke get together if you picked someone else? Should you play matchmaker? That might be fun, even if you went with a different version of your future.

Wait! Your stomach dropped as you realised something pretty significant. The fortune teller’s repeated message had said you would be spending these 24-hour cycles with the seven people that you could love the most. You had assumed that meant seven cycles, of which this was six, but if you had two mates this time, then that meant you’d experienced all seven…

This was your last cycle.

You felt strange thinking about that. It felt like you’d only just started, it had gone so quickly, like a fever dream. Not that you were fully convinced that this wasn’t a fever dream still. Anxiety about making your decision started to grow in your chest, but you pushed it away as best as you could. You needed to enjoy this cycle, give Naruto and Sasuke their fair shot, and not worry about tomorrow. You could make your decision once this ended, but while it was happening, you would forget about it.

With those thoughts still floating around your mind, you drifted to sleep, the scent of a contended omega knocking you out faster than you expected.

…

It was the sound of giggling that woke you up in the end. You slowly opened your eyes part way, keeping them somewhat protected from the sudden influx of light, and you were greeted by Naruto in his full hokage gear, a camera clutched in his hands.

It was so weird to see him wearing the hat like that.

You tried to sit up only to realise something was pinning you down. You opened your eyes properly and your vision was partially obscured by a head of black hair that was purring away buried in your neck.

Sasuke had certainly moved quite a bit in his sleep, because you were now completely pinned under him. Now wonder you were feeling so warm; it was a mixture of the body heat from Sasuke and the embarrassment that Naruto had obviously just taken a picture of you both like this.

Naruto looked so giddy though, which soothed your embarrassment somewhat.

“Wanna play video games while he sleeps?” Naruto said quietly but with a huge grin.

“Hell yeah, I do,” you replied in the same tone. “But you’re going to have to help me out of here first.”

Naruto snorted, putting down the bags in his hands on the coffee table, just about managing to fit them around the breakfast debris, and coming over to extract you from Sasuke’s unrelenting grip.

It took about five minutes, but you were eventually freed, and Sasuke was left to doze by himself, now hugging a pillow that you had scented instead. Naruto had run to get changed while you tidied up the plates and cutlery and also had a nosey in the bags. Naruto had brought more food back with him, something that you were incredibly happy to see; you had a lot of food in, but not enough if Sasuke was going to eat like a one-man army for every meal.

When Naruto returned, you sat on floor cushions together in front of the TV. You were incredibly excited to see some future video games. Hell, even games that were from your time would be great because it wasn’t like you’d had time to play any recently.

Naruto picked out some sort of fighting game, which didn’t surprise you for even one moment, and you decided to chat with him while he set it up.

“How was work, hokage sama?” you asked, teasing him by knocking him on the knee with your foot. “Did you sign lots of important things?”

“Ugh, I don’t normally wish for that, but paperwork would have been a thousand times better than having to meet with the civilian council,” he grimaced. “I’m so glad Shikamaru knew stuff about the business fairs in Wind Country, because the council is wanting to start doing something similar here and I didn’t even know what they were.”

You snorted. Naruto was incredibly overpowered, but you weren’t sure he’d ever understand business or economics. You were pretty good thankfully, so you would be a gracious friend and offer to help on occasion.

Wait, Shikamaru? Was Naruto the hokage that had been partly responsible for overworking Shikamaru? Or was it the hokage before him? You did seem to be a bit older in this cycle than Shikamaru’s but still…

This man better hope he wasn’t the cause of Shikamaru’s breakdown, because your plans for when you returned would change from ‘help Shikamaru’s friends support him in making reasonable boundaries’ to ‘beat up your friend for causing problems’.

“That sucks,” you said instead of voicing your threat. “At least you’re home now, the council can’t get you here.”

Naruto laughed and passed you a controller.

“I wouldn’t put it past them to try breaking down the door. Anyway, are you ready to get your ass beat?”

You scoffed at his smack talk.

“You wish, fishcake boy, I’m going to destroy you!”

Naruto squawked in protest.

“You are not!”

“Are too!”

“In your dreams!”

You ended up winning the first round by the skin of your teeth. Button mashing was the superior tactic after all. Naruto was way too focused on combos and flashy moves.

“Whatever,” Naruto grumbled as you gloated in his face. “I would totally win in a real fight, that’s what counts.”

You knew that he was right. He was the hokage and you were mentally about a decade in the past, so there was no way you could hope to fight Naruto and win.

But you weren’t going to let that fact stop your banter.

“No, I would totally win,” you argued. “All I’d have to do is like, put a poisoned bowl of ramen in front of you and it’d be game over. Playing dirty with ramen would be my winning strategy.”

“Playing dirty with ramen, huh?” Naruto said, wiggling his eyebrows. “There’s an idea for when it’s time for my heat.”

“Gross!” you protested, pushing him on his shoulders. “You’re disgusting, Naruto.”

“Yeah? Are you saying you don’t want to lick ramen broth off my stomach?”

“Shut up,” you said, trying your best not to imagine it. “You disgust me.”

“Does this disgust you?” he said, before pouncing on you, sending you both to the floor. He covered your face in kisses while you squealed at him to stop. You decided to tickle him in revenge and soon you were both laughing and shrieking and out of breath.

Naruto was hovering over you, chest heaving, signature grin looking at home on his face, when he looked at something over his head.

“Oops,” he said, getting off you. “We didn’t mean to wake you, Sasuke, sorry.”

Oh, you had forgotten that Sasuke was there. You sat up, Naruto climbing off you, and turned to see Sasuke with a tremendously bad bedhead looking at you in return.

It took everything in you not to laugh at his hair, but something told you that if even Naruto had resisted from teasing him, you should avoid it too.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, getting up with his blanket still tucked around him. He walked over to you and Naruto and slotted himself in between you without acknowledging either of you. You and Naruto wordlessly shuffled to make room for him.

“Here,” Naruto said passing him one of the bags from the coffee table. “You should eat.”

Sasuke accepted the bag and immediately started digging through the snacks it contained. He ended up picking out a pack of onigiri to munch on while Naruto started up the next round of your game.

This was so domestic and lovely. You had never imagined there would be a future where you and Naruto and Sasuke would be here together like this, snuggled up on the floor, playing video games and eating onigiri.

At one point, Naruto attempted to snatch an onigiri from Sasuke, but he was promptly growled away.

“Alright, alright, I’ll grab something else,” he said easily, pressing a kiss to Sasuke’s head, something which only make him growl more. “Want something?”

He held the bag open for you and you spotted a few of your favourite sprinkled in. You gratefully grabbed one; you hadn’t had much of the food earlier because Sasuke had eaten most of it.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in much the same way, you and Naruto making your way through several video games, Sasuke, who slowly became more and more animated, giving his cruel and brutal commentary about how much you both sucked at them.

And if the bickering made you tear up a few times, well, no one appeared to notice.

…

By the time the evening had rolled around, you had all decided to relocate to the nest upstairs. Sasuke had started getting antsy and you were grateful that Naruto was there to understand that that behaviour meant he needed to go to his nest, because you were too ill informed on pre heats to pick that up and Sasuke was too stubborn to admit when he needed something.

This was the second nest you were invading during this weird time travel themed week, even though you technically had permission. It felt like wandering onto sacred land with the permission of the senile groundskeeper who had mistaken you for the deity the land was dedicated to. You had permission, but technically under false pretences.

At least Naruto and Sasuke were both your friends and teammates. That made it a little less weird than entering Kiba’s nest had been.

The nesting room was split in half, one side for Naruto’s nest and the other side, Sasuke’s. You could immediately tell which half was which.

Sasuke’s was filled with mainly dark colours, woollen blankets and a cute little shelf that had a bunch of things for a heat stacked on there. Naruto’s side was bright, chaotic, and filled with stuffed toys and cushions more than blankets. He also had a mini fridge on his side that he’d covered with stickers.

It was a weird visual.

Regardless, you all found your spot, favouring Sasuke’s side of the nest mostly, seeing as he was the one in pre heat.

“This feels like a sleep over,” you said, reclining backwards. “It’s like we’re about to start talking about crushes or something.”

Naruto laughed and picked up a pillow from his own side to throw at you.

“Or should we have a pillow fight?” he teased. “I mean, it’s not like any of our crushes will be that interesting, it’ll just be people already in the room.”

“It’s not a sleepover,” Sasuke grumbled, picking up the stray pillow and throwing it back to Naruto’s side of the nest. “And we’re not having a pillow fight.”

“Yeah, but I mean,” you continued, ignoring Sasuke for a moment. “We all must have had crushes before we got together, right? Like what about Haku?”

“Oh, Haku,” Naruto sighed dreamily. “I saw him the other day, he’s still super pretty.”

“He is,” you agreed, thinking of a very different encounter than Naruto likely was.

There was silence for a moment before both you and Naruto turned to Sasuke expectantly. Sasuke crossed his arms and didn’t say anything, but as the silence carried on, he turned his head away and spoke.

“Haku’s… nice looking,” he said reluctantly.

“Come off it, you totally had a crush on him during that mission! We all did!” Naruto said, indignantly. “You can’t fool us.”

“I did not,” Sasuke said. “He tried to kill us.”

“So?” Naruto replied, sounding unsure what that would have to do with finding someone attractive.

“You’re an idiot,” was the only thing Sasuke said, before he turned over on his side, facing one of the walls.

“Noooo, don’t ignore me,” Naruto whined, leaning over and poking Sasuke on the cheek. “You’re supposed to love me.”

“Get off of me,” he growled, shoving backwards. His words had no real animosity in them though, you were fluent enough in Uchiha to recognise that. “Dobe.”

Now, you’d seen Naruto and Sasuke fight many, many times before, far too many times in fact and the more recent times hurt your heart to think about, but what was ensuing in front of you right now was nothing like that… They were slapping at each other’s hands like children.

“This is like watching a puppy and a kitten playfight,” you muttered to yourself, never taking your eyes off the weirdly competitive hand slapping fight. You wished they would stop though, what was the best way to do that? Shock value perhaps?

“Well, my first crush was Iruka sensei.”

Both of them froze, blinking at you in sync, before-

“What!” Naruto yelled, before choking on his own spit. “What- but- how- Iruka sensei? Seriously? Why?”

Sasuke looked quietly horrified and was obviously thinking the same thing. You had succeeded in distracting them, but at what cost?

“Well, I guess, um,” you felt bashful under their incredulous eyes. “I don’t know he was so nice and reliable and a really good teacher and he has pretty eyes and an even prettier smile so-“

You kept babbling, not helping your case at all. Naruto looked like he was questioning everything in the universe while Sasuke looked a little green around the gills.

“He was our teacher,” Sasuke emphasised. “Our teacher.”

“I know that!” you said defensively. “I’m not saying I tried anything! It’s totally normal for kids to get crushes on their teachers, y’know, you don’t have to get weird about it.”

“Next you’ll be telling us you had a crush on Kakashi sensei,” Naruto said with a grimace.

“Ew,” was your only reply.

“Ew,” Sasuke added.

“Ew,” Naruto finished.

You all looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

You definitely needed to do more of this when you went back to your time, when Sasuke returned, and Naruto wasn’t so busy. You would invite Sakura too, Sai as well. You wanted this in your life so badly. Friends and hang outs and sleepovers and just, everything.

But you needed to be in the village more often for that to happen. You decided then and there, as you watched Naruto and Sasuke laugh until they cried at the thought of someone having a crush on Kakashi sensei, that you would figure out a way to stay in the village more.

You didn’t want to be miserable and alone forever.

…

You had all bantered and chatted for a while. It was fun to be with your friends again and interesting to hear more details about the years you hadn’t lived.

Apparently, Naruto had had a rather persistent admirer/stalker a few years ago that Sasuke took great pleasure in mocking, Kakashi had been the hokage before Naruto (and wasn’t that a wild thought) and apparently Sai had done a whole myriad of things that meant Sasuke scoffed every time someone said his name.

It was a top tier gossip session.

A top tier gossip session that had somehow ended with Sasuke’s cock in Naruto’s mouth.

“Not so fast,” Sasuke gasped, fisting a hand into Naruto’s hair. “Watch the teeth.”

Naruto rolled his eyes but obliged, slowing right down, likely much more than Sasuke had wanted because he bucked his hips in protest.

You were kneeling by Sasuke’s head feeling like a strange, perverted voyeur. You should definitely be joining in somehow, but all the confidence you had from earlier was nowhere to be seen. It was intimidating… maybe you should just start with something easier and more familiar.

Like kissing. Kissing worked.

You reangled yourself and bent down over Sasuke’s head, cupping his face with your hands. He seemed eager, tilting his head up, ready to receive your kiss. You kissed him slowly, forcing as much sensuality as you could into it. Sasuke was much sloppier than earlier, likely due to the activities of Naruto down below, but it didn’t matter to you. Being able to swallow all the little noises he made with your lips was incredibly hot and you were happy to do it.

Sasuke’s movements became jerkier and jerkier as time moved on. He was moaning more, gasping more, seemingly forgetting that he was in the middle of a kiss more. You snuck one hand down to his bare chest, not to focus on increasing his pleasure, but just to rub soothing circles on his chest. If pre heat was anything like pre rut, he would enjoy some soothing touches mixed in with the sexy ones.

“I’m going to-“ Sasuke seized and you pulled back to watch. His face contorted, little flashes of red visible behind his eyelids, and his toes curled. Naruto didn’t try to pull away, in fact, he seemed to push Sasuke’s cock further down his throat, sealing his lips around the base.

It was all over in a few seconds, but as you watched Sasuke collapse, panting, like he’d just had his soul sucked out and Naruto swallow with a cheeky grin and a wipe of his lips, it felt like eternity.

“Are you up next?” Naruto asked with a wolfish grin. “I think Sasuke needs a break.”

Just the insinuation that he needed a break had Sasuke opening his eyes and struggling to sit up.

“I shouldn’t do anymore, or my heat will trigger,” he said, like he was explaining why he couldn’t join without an insult to his stamina. “We shouldn’t have done that anyway.”

“That’s fine, Sasuke, don’t push yourself,” you said, wanting to be a supportive mate through the cloud of arousal.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Naruto concurred. “You can just watch.”

By the end, you could add ‘Naruto has a magical mouth’ to the list of things you’d learnt on this cycle.

…

This was your final night like this, in the future. Your heart ached as you imagined returning to the loneliness that you remembered.

Stop, you reprimanded yourself, this whole thing was about knowing how to fix the loneliness, not returning to wallow in it. You would be fine. You could make a game plan during your first few days, and you would build a life you loved.

Sasuke snuffled a bit on your chest and shifted his position to be more comfortable. You were all laying together now, Sasuke on his side of the nest, Naruto on his side, and you in the middle. It was so comfortable that you fully believed they had coordinated the nests to allow a comfy spot for you in the middle. How sweet.

Naruto, on the other hand, was entertaining himself by fiddling with your hair, but his hand movements had been getting slower and slower as he relaxed further into the nest.

“Goodnight,” he said, yawning. “Don’t forget to wake us up if you go into heat, okay? That’s why we’re here.”

“Hn,” a very tired Sasuke agreed, not bothering to open his eyes. His head was a pleasant weight on your chest, and it was clear that he was already halfway to dreamland.

“Goodnight to you, too,” he whispered, leaning over and pressing his lips against yours. “I hope you sleep well because you’re going to need it.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered into the dark room. “To both of you. I promise I’ll cherish this day forever.”

And for the final time, you closed your eyes in the future, knowing that you’d open them in the past.

You didn’t quite finish deciding whether you were going to kiss the fortune teller or punch her in the face before your consciousness drifted away.

Next chapter 

#naruto #a/b/o #omegaverse #gn reader #gn!reader #alpha!reader #alpha reader #24 hours series #reader insert #prose #fic #naruto x reader x sasuke

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life. 

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door. 

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear. 

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face. 

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message. 

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately. 

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece. 

Frank: Cross my heart. 

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap. 

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug. 

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle. 

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done? 

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family. 

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever. 

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity. 

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world. 

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass. 

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else. 

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front. 

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone. 

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort. 

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.” 

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate. 

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.” 

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?” 

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone. 

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture. 

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast. 

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.” 

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands. 

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.” 

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors. 

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold. 

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.” 

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant. 

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky. 

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs. 

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you? 

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary. 

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it. 

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started. 

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite. 

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain. 

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing. 

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him. 

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came. 

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached. 

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera. 

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities. 

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again. 

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank. 

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery. 

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back. 

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie. 

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered. 

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry. 

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out. 

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”  

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed. 

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest. 

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked. 

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry. 

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers. 

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction. 

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you. 

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?” 

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes. 

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork. 

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.” 

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–” 

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest. 

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession. 

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did. 

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it. 

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh. 

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning. 

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” 

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.” 

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.” 

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?” 

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again. 

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?” 

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin. 

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees. 

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress. 

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you. 

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again. 

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help. 

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started. 

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right. 

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks. 

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard. 

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?” 

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.” 

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.” 

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.” 

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence. 

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip. 

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you. 

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.” 

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars. 

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.” 

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.” 

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.” 

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to. 

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?” 

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.” 

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?” 

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.” 

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?” 

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you. 

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?” 

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover. 

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs. 

“You made me a lasagna?” 

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.” 

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?” 

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork. 

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it. 

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you. 

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again. 

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

#frank castle #my writing #marvel #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle angst #netflix the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #fc #gray skies

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Six Sentences Sunday! On Monday! Or Sunday still if you're in Hawaii.

Note to self: Do not try to write and do a WIP post on Tumblr in the same night. It won't happen. (Sigh.)

Thank you @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @katmiscellanious, @shrekgogurt, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, and @rimeswithpurple for the tags today! I'm looking forward to reading/seeing what everyone is working on! Also thank you to everyone who's tagged me since my last Sunday post. Even when I can't post, I love tags - they help make sure I see the posts I really want to see.

I'm still (slowly) plugging away at my "Embrace the Silence" WIP. (Which has a dozen titles, depending on what song I'm listening to at the given moment.) Basics: Canon divergence fic exploring the ramifications of Baz successfully stealing Simon's voice in fifth year.

Side note: I got to see the touring company of Hamilton on Friday, and this whole setup gives me serious A. Burr/A. Ham vibes. But I could be projecting XD

13 whole sentences because it's gotta cover two whole weeks most likely. >.> (Fiona is driving Baz back to Watford. Reluctantly. As is her way.)

“It’s enemy territory,” she said after a minute, ignoring a stop sign, and forgoing the use of her turn signal. “The Mage had you kidnapped by numpties. Morgana only knows what he could try next, and you’re stuck in a bloody masochistic haze of self-destruction.” She wasn't entirely wrong, on either point. The Mage truly does resent my continued existence. It’s his right. The one thing, perhaps, we both agree on. “What if I’m simply keeping my enemies close,” I said, doing my best to stretch my leg out in the cramped backseat. “And how exactly did you determine the Mage’s culpability in my kidnapping?” She shrugged, meeting my eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. “Why wouldn’t it be him. He’s capable of anything.” So are we.

I promise/hope really hard my fic won't be all angst, all the time. Levity happens when I'm able to spend time writing, getting into character, writing daily - things I'm not quite able to do yet. (Probably because I'm on Tumblr and Discord too much. It's basically the trolley problem on a less life-threatening scale.) So for now, it's angst, relatively pure and uncut.

Tags under the cut!

It's no longer Sunday, so consider these friendly shout-outs and hellos and what-not! @fatalfangirl @prettygoododds @hushed-chorus @brilla-brilla-estrellita @youarenevertooold @alleycat0306 @anxious-m3ss @ileadacharmedlife @whatevertheweather @nightimedreamersworld @cutestkilla @raenestee @aristocratic-otter @supercutedinosaurs @thewholelemon @ebbpettier @artsyunderstudy @ic3-que3n

#six sentences sunday #on Monday #But only technically #angst #as promised #or as threatened #however you view it I suppose #writing baz and fiona is like walking on a tightrope without a net #and this is basically my trial run #perhaps the angst here is my own #said every fanfic writer ever #snowbaz #baz pitch #fiona pitch #keep calm and #carry on #it's only tumblr #jodofic

[tobiasdrake]

The Disappearance of Nagato Yuki-chan, Episode 3 - Haruhi Suzumiya!!

Despite my wishes for Yuki to be allowed to be happy, my character is here to fuck everything up and make everyone miserable. Let's go!

Given the lack of supernatural forces in this show, my money's on Love Triangle antagonist.

Oh thank Haruhi, she's still an asshole. Gonna be honest, the pleasant evening Yuki had with her last episode made me nervous that they'd sanded her edges off.

I'm still so nervous. I can feel her getting ready to create conflict.

She's here to get revenge against Yuki for stealing her God powers, by stealing Yuki's boyfriend. Who. Yuki. Also stole from her.

...okay so if Haruhi drowns Yuki in the nearest river it could reasonably be argued to be justified but I still don't wanna let her.

PROCESSING. PROCESSING. PROCESSING.

SYSTEM CRASH

This program has performed an illegal operation and had to be shut down.

You can take the girl out of the robot but you can't take the robot out of the girl.

"Sorry Haruhi but we don't have time to talk about aliens because we need to meet up with Ryoko Asakura."

The show did that on purpose. XD And I appreciate it.

She was going to kidnap Santa Claus! Not just meet him. She planned a full-on abduc--

Yo is that a bag of CEMENT!? Haruhi. Haruhi. I desperately need you to explain what the plan last night was.

Haruhi rejecting Yuki's gratitude on the grounds of, "Fuck you, I'm a selfish prick so you go ahead and take this credit for your personal achievement on yourself. The meanest possible way to build another person up.

This resonates with me so hard. Like. Actually, Haruhi's wrong. This is Individualist propaganda. It's okay to lean on others for support. Humans are social creatures.

But Haruhi's a selfish, violent misanthrope. She's young, stupid, and full of herself. So for her this is super endearing. I love that Haruhi gets soft moments but they're always filtered through the lens of Haruhi's personal shittiness.

HAHAHAHA It's okay I don't think she saw us HAHAHAHAHA

This show is so fucking good oh my god.

Every time I see Ryoko's cooking in closeup, I'm reminded of the fact that anime food must always, always be the most high-resolution incredible art imaginable. We don't want a repeat of the Bad Cabbage Incident that brought cultural shame to anime as a whole.

Thanks to badly drawn cabbage, drawing food so photorealistic that it ends up higher-quality than the animation around it is now a way of flexing in anime.

Oh shit, we're officially her friends.

It was a plot point in the Disappearance movie that Haruhi would have trouble getting in the school. Visibly wearing another school's uniform makes it clear that she's not supposed to be here.

How will Haruhi solve that problem this time around?

Fuck you, rules are fake. Anything is legal if you sprint fast enough.

XD I am so anxietous about my character being back in the show and yet so happy to see her. That's mah girl! She's here to make trouble!

Okay I said it before but.

I was worried last episode that they were sanding off Haruhi's edges. Making her nicer. Less shamelessly criminal. But no. This episode has put all of those concerns to rest.

Haruhi changed both herself and Itsuki into Kyon Gym Clothes Haruhi and Itsuki so fast I could practically hear her saying, "Oi! Kyon! We need to wardrobe-reference the movie so GIMME." In the movie, they had to wear Kyon's gym clothes because they were out in the streets trying to figure out a way to look inconspicuous with limited resources.

Here in the school building under no pressing urgency and with Haruhi's criminal proclivities, I feel like there were a million other ways they could blend in. They're doing this just because they did it in the movie.

Not a fan of that. For the last two episodes, the show's done a great job of blazing its own trail, which is what I like to see out of AU stories. While Haruhi shouting "Kyon! Gym clothes! Now!" so she can change into one of her other Movie Costumes feels inorganic and overly referential.

I love that Itsuki has taken Kyon's job of being Haruhi's luggage. And yet, there is an unmistakable flaw in Haruhi's approach. Well. Two flaws, given that the other is "This is not a magic world".

My bestie likes to feed birds on our balcony. They leave out a bowl of seed, and the birds come by and eat. They also leave peanuts for some of the larger birds like blue jays. Consequently, we have birds coming and going from our balcony all the time.

Our cat is very intrigued by this. During the day in spring and summer, he loves to go out on the balcony and hunt the birds. He can't wait to get his claws into a nice, juicy bird. The idea captivates him.

So we let him out onto the balcony and he hunts. By which I mean, he climbs up on the table and sits his ass next to the bowl. In plain sight. Supremely visible. And then he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

To date, he has never caught a bird. For some reason, the birds are reluctant to come to the balcony when a visible predator is sitting next to their food bowl. His enthusiasm is great, but he has produced a 0% success rate not because birds don't exist, but because birds will not approach under the conditions he creates.

That's her. That is Haruhi. She's dragging Itsuki around by the ear so that she can be nearby when he reveals his true secret nature. Failing to realize that he will never reveal his true secret nature (even if he still had one) so long as she is around to see it. That's what makes it secret.

Last night's Santa experiment is very much the same. Santa never sprang Haruhi's trap. But is that because Santa does not exist? Yes. But more importantly, even if he did exist, Santa would be unlikely to drop what he's doing to go to a random park just because some girl standing nearby wrote a message saying "HEY COME HERE I HAVE CAKE".

Haruhi's methodology needs a lot of work. Her self-absorption deprives her of the subtlety required to create an effective trap.

YUKI NO

DO NOT SURRENDER CONTROL OF YOUR CLUB LIKE THIS

You worked so hard for this. Do not let Haruhi take her powers back control of your club away from you!

Ryoko! RYOKO COME DO SOMETHING

Oh thank Haruhi, Ryoko is here to fuck up Haruhi. We're good. Everything's fine. That girl doesn't even go to our school. There is no way Lawful Menace is going to stand for this.

SHE STOOD FOR THIS WHAT THE FUCK

Ryoko no you were our last hope

I do admit, I'm interested to see where this is going to go. Ryoko didn't get to interact with Haruhi, like, at all back in the original show 'cause it was so Kyon-centric. And also 'cause she died moved to Canada.

I said before that I like it when AU stories go in new directions rather than trying to skew too close to the original source material, and letting Haruhi and Ryoko hang out is certainly a new direction.

(continued in reblog)

#the melancholy of haruhi suzumiya #the disappearance of nagato yuki chan #drake watches haruhi suzumiya

[liberty-or-death]

“The wildfire in the fields can’t be extinguished, the spring breeze blows and it grows again.” Wei Wuxian’s Spell (MDZS only) (Farewell on the Ancient Grassy Plain 赋得古原草送别 by Bai Juyi 白居易)

Before I proceed, I just wanna say that this was the poem that inspired me to take up translation. 😍😍. I learned and analysed it back in school, so when I read it in MDZS, I knew I had to make a post about it. Yes, I know I’m such a geek. Everyone wants to translate wangxian smut but I was aiming for this. But LOL the my translation never got there FML so here it is anyway.

If there was a list of “top 10 famous Chinese poetry”‘s online, this would definitely be it along with Li Bai’s 静夜思（Through the Quiet Night). In MDZS, Wei Wuxian uses this poem in Chapter 76 to animate the effigies. So just what does it mean and what is his relation to the novel?

This poem was written in the Tang Dynasty by Bai Juyi. In the poem, the author sends off his old friend on his journey , and bades him farewell.

There’s an interesting backstory to poem. Firstly, this is a “赋得” which means that this was a poem that the author wrote for exam purposes. 😂. So yes, this was his examination essay. The topic was “to bade farewell on the grassy plain”.

So the story is that the examiner Gu Kuang looked at his essay, then commented “米价方贵，居亦弗易 Chang An’s rice is expensive, it’s not easy to freeload! (this is a pun on the author’s name. He shortened the poet’s name to Ju Yi 居易, which means to stay for free)”. But as he read on, he was subsequently very impressed with the poem, particularly the famous line (which was used in MDZS) “野火烧不尽，春风吹又生 The wild fire in the fields can’t be extinguished, the spring breeze blows and it grows again.” And since then, the poem has been praised for the way it describes the grass full of life, its symbolism (the never say never ideal), the imagery and sadness when he sends his friend off.

离离原上草，一岁一枯荣。

The ancient plains are filled with lush green grass, it withers and prospers every year

野火烧不尽，春风吹又生。

The wildfire in the fields can’t be extinguished, the spring breeze blows and it grows again. (This is the famous line/idiom)

远芳侵古道，晴翠接荒城。

The scent of spring grass from afar has invaded the ancient path, a sea of green has permeated the abandoned city

又送王孙去, 萋萋满别情。

I’m here to send my friend off, the lush grass is filled with my parting feelings.

ANALYSIS - with relation to MDZS

"野火烧不尽，春风吹又生 The wildfire in the fields can’t be extinguished, the spring breeze blows and it grows again,” is now a commonly used idiom to describes tenacity and grit; the grass that thrive again after it has been burned by wildfire.

When I first read this, I felt this poem was a shout out Wei Wuxian. He persevered when faced with adversity multiple times. And imagery of “spring grass” in this poem is particularly fitting descriptor of him; it’s full of life and adaptable to any circumstances. It even grows in the most barren of conditions, such as the ancient paths and the abandoned city. (Burial Mounds, I'm looking at you XD)

Secondly, the last line of the poem also reminds me of Lan Wangji. It gives off an image of someone sending off a friend, but he can’t send his said friend off the entire way, so he hopes the grass which have grown everywhere would do convey his feelings. isn’t that lwj when he realises Wei Wuxian has passed away the first time? :( Or perhaps that's Wei Wuxian's feelings when Lan Wangji and himself were on different paths (The Ghost path vs the orthodox Cultivator Path)

Additional Links:

Wei Wuxian's Spell - "Her Shy Charming Eyes"

More MDZS Meta

Poetry Analysis

#poetry #bai juyi #mdzs meta #mdzs #wei wuxian

[4town4lyfe]

feelings in the cabin chapter 3 - reflections in the tracks

clarifying things, this story is in imanis pov

my age 4 the band

jesse - 26

aaron z - 23

aaron t - 22

robaire - 21

imani - 21 (ignore the 22 in ch 1 LOL little mess there)

tae young - 18 ( he is also lack toes intallerants T-T)

Aaron Z is referred to as 'Z'

Aaron T is referred to as 'T'

i decided to just use t and z bc i was scared it would be confusing and i also got confused XD

SEVENTEEN is a kpop group and so is SHINee

spoiler translationnnn "por favor fale comigo" means please talk to me

i am definitely not finishing this b4 the end of the month LOL

ok plz read and leave comments k bye

After driving for a bit and accidentally getting Robaire and Z into SHINee and SEVENTEEN, we make it back to the cabin. I get out of the van first, followed by Robaire, then Z. 

Robaire grabs the drinks that he talked about before, he must have bought them when me and Z were shopping. My mind suddenly reminds me of that flustering moment we shared, making me feel frustrated with myself. I'm in a loving relationship, I shouldn’t be feeling how I am about this. 

But, wouldn’t anyone feel flustered if that happened to them? That’s my justification. As Robaire goes inside, assumingly to put the drinks away and hopefully tell the guys to come and help, me and Z grab our fair share of groceries before heading inside as Jesse opens the front door for us, only wearing a jacket, although I can’t scold him, this stuff is getting heavy. 

Me and Z make our way to the kitchen to place the bags down as Taeyoung and T head outside, thankfully bundled up. The two of them, along with Jesse, come back inside with the rest of the groceries, joining us in the kitchen. 

The six of us put everything away in the fridge, cupboards, and pantry. With all of us, it’s a fairly easy task, and we finish rather quickly. I grab the big bag of Doritos that I got for myself, and head to the living room as everyone else grabs their own snacks and follows suit. T stands in front of me, no snacks in hand. 

I assume he wants some of my chips, but then I remember him telling me he wanted to talk before we left, and he looked oddly serious. “Imani, can you come here?” He asks, and I unflatteringly shove some chips in my mouth before getting up. He gently grabs my hand, leading me to our room. 

“Ey! What are y’all ‘bout to do?” Robaire shouts out in a suggestive tone, making me shake my head. 

“Just start the movie!” T responds back as we turn the corner to the hallway and disappear from their sight. He pushes our bedroom door open, letting me go in first before cutting the light on. I sit down on the bed as he shuts the door and he sits beside me, the radio I brought playing nonstop Christmas music saving us from an awkward silence.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” I tilt my head, turning to him with a slightly concerned expression.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m okay, but are you?” Okay… what’s going on?

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” I ask, my voice laced with confusion as he grabs my hands, holding them in his own. “On the way here, when you came back from the gas station, you… were crying.” He reminds me.

Oh, that. “Uhm, yeah. Uh, it was just these two fans, they thought I was Robaire at first, they didn’t seem to like me much.”  I half explain.

“What did they do?” He asks, concern etched on his face, making my heart melt. Gosh, I love him. “Uhhh..” I begin fiddling with his ring. 

“They didn’t really do much. They were just kinda mean, and…” I stop, genuinely trying to recall, but then I remember the event, making me grimace, I don’t really want to bring it up to him.

“They… just said some mean stuff. You know I’m sensitive. They just wanted to see Robaire, that’s all.” I try to explain without saying too much, but he obviously knows that isn’t the full story.

“Meu amor. Por favor fale comigo.” He pleads, making me look away. He just had to switch to Portuguese, just to make me give up, but I won’t.

“I-I am! They just thought I was Robaire and they were a little upset that he wasn’t with me. Apparently I shouldn’t be in the band because I’m a girl.” I say with a chuckle, beginning to find it a bit amusing.

“And maybe they brought up what happened on my birthday for some reason.” I mutter under my breath, but he, with his super hearing, heard every word.

“They what?” He exclaims, letting my hands go to throw his hands in the air in annoyance. “It’s not a big deal. I was just feeling a bit emotional that day anyways. It’s in the past, babe.” I try to make him see that the memory doesn’t affect me anymore, although it does, in ways more than one.

“Imani, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” He asks, referring to the non consensual kiss he received from our ex manager. I know it wasn’t his fault, he just naturally attracts people, it’s his silliness and charm. I know he loves me. I know that.

So why did it hurt so bad? I saw it with my own eyes, I saw her kiss him, and he pushed her away just as quick as everything went down.

“Yeah, I know.” I simply respond as he pulls me in for a tight hug. He gives the best hugs, he’s just the best. He pulls away, giving me a peck on the lips before we hear a knock on the door. We both stand up and walk to the door, it’s Z. His gaze goes to me, staring for a bit before looking at T.

“We’re watching Home Alone. Are yall okay?” He asks, his trademark stoic voice barely  showing emotion, although we’ve known him long enough to know that he’s not some heartless robot, so don’t worry, he’s concerned, just on the inside.

“Yup, we were just talking.” T nods, his usual cheerful demeanor coming back, although a flicker of… something in his eye as he looks at Z, I can’t put my finger on it, doesn’t go unnoticed by me as the three of us walk back out to the living room. 

I grab, well, snatch my chip bag from Robaire's hands, that little heckler stole my spot, before sitting down on the spot on the couch that Jesse was lounging on, pushing his legs away to make space, earning a glare from him. “Sorry grandpa!” I say with a grin, plopping down in the empty spot, before T sits to my left, and Z joins, sitting on my right.

Me and Z haven’t said much since the whole thing at the store, so it’s a tiny bit awkward at the moment. He leans back, crossing his arms, seeming intrigued by the classic movie we watch all the time each year, but lowkey, I am too. I catch him glancing at me every once in a while, so I assume he wants some chips.

“You want some?” I ask, tilting the bag toward him, but he turns his head to me, simply shaking his head no before turning back to watch the movie. “I want some, I want some!” T jokingly whines, and I happily tilt the bag in his direction, though I end up just leaving the bag between our legs, just in case he wants more.

“Man, I wish I was in that family.” We hear Taeyoung say, making us chuckle. “Why?” Jesse asks with a grin. “Just look at that house! All that food! I’d be like,” He makes a cute face, puppy eyes and all. “Omma! Can I please stay at cousin Kevin's house tonight?”

“Dude, we can make that here! We just have frozen stuff.” Robaire chimes in, making Taeyoung remember that we just majorly stocked up, and since they brought me along to shop, I may or may not have bought a bunch of junk.

“Oh. Em. Gee. You’re totally right!” Taeyoung practically jumps off the couch and heads to the kitchen, and I decide to come along with him, suddenly having a taste for that ice cream that Kevin is chowing down on. “Tae, look.” I bring him over to the freezer, opening it and showing him the multiple options of ice cream. I may have gotten a lot but, there are six of us, it’ll run out quickly. Vanilla, strawberry, chocolate, mint chocolate chip, moose tracks, coffee, cherry, so many more. We have a big sized freezer, so it’ll be okay.

As he excitedly pulls out the moose tracks, I head over to a cupboard and grab chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and mini marshmallows, setting them down on the counter. He brings the ice cream over and sets it beside our ingredients for sweetness galore. I grab two bowls, setting them down as Taeyoung gets a scooper and puts it down.

Jesse comes in, wanting to join in. He grabs the pista ice cream, making me grimace.

“Pista… I got that for you, by the way.” He's the only one who actually enjoys it. “Yep, thanks pookie.” He says, making me wheeze. 

“Did you just call me pookie?” I clutch my stomach, trying not to laugh. “Yes I did. Everyone keeps saying it so I’m joining in.” He walks over to me and Taeyoung, grabbing another bowl and the scooper from the counter, giving himself two scoops and going to rinse the scooper off for us, putting it back down and getting a spoon.

“Bye, pookies!” He calls out before walking out. “Bye…” Me and Taeyoung say in unison, looking at each other and laughing. “I didn’t teach him that word!” Taeyoung exclaims, putting his hands up before scooping us up some moose tracks, two scoops each. I grab the chocolate sauce, being generous with it, a big helping for both as Taeyoung gives us caramel sauce, being equally generous.

I open up the bag of marshmallows, pouring them into our bowls, making our dreams complete. “Wow.” I step back, putting my hands on my hips and admiring our work.

“This is gonna be so good!” Taeyoung grabs two spoons, giving me the smaller one, aw, little bro knows me well.

We grab our bowls and walk back into the living room, sitting back down in our seats. I immediately slam down on my sweet treat, but also taking my time and savoring it. I can see Z side eyeing me as if he wouldn’t scarf this down, and he so would. Well, maybe not with all the extraness. 

The movie goes on, the vanilla ice cream runs out very quickly. We get to the point of the movie where Kevin hears his mother, runs out and sees no one. Then, he finally gets to her. They hug, how cute. The moment just… makes me feel bittersweet.

Yeah, his mom seems a little harsh in the beginning, and even forgets him at home. Okay, this isn’t sounding too good. But, she tried to get home as soon as possible and was so happy that he was safe. She apologized too. For everything. She meant it.

She truly cares about her child.

“Oh my gosh, Imani! No way you’re crying at Home Alone!” I hear Jesse shout out, and I realize I’m full on sobbing. I quickly wipe my tears away, feeling a little embarrassed. I can hear everyone chuckling, well, all except Z.

“Ah, she will cry at every movie, cut her some slack!” Robaire says, hopefully knowing why I’m really crying. I feel a hand patting my back, the hand of Z. I look over at him with a small but grateful smile. 

“Ha ha, yeah.” I try to play off as I don’t care as I stand up, getting Taeyoungs bowl with my own as he is now in the bathroom and will definitely be a while. I head to the kitchen, rinsing our bowls and putting them in the dishwasher, shutting it with a sigh.

It’s late now, not late enough for me to sleep but I’m not really feeling like staying up. I walk back into the living room to grab my bag of chips, and I notice that T and Z are gone. Robaire is on his phone and Jesse is somehow knocked out cold despite me being gone for like two minutes. 

Maybe T is in our room… I head to the bedroom, pushing open the door and fully expecting to see him in bed or whatever, but he’s not there?

“Why didn’t Imani tell me?” I hear T… from Z's room?

#4town #4townie #turning red #turning red 4town #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town robaire #4town taeyoung #4town jesse #4townimani

[lilac-den]

Looking at the sudden attention TSR ROs has made me feel emotional! And I can't wait for chapter 1! Here are some of my asks though...

Which part would they want to bite/mark their partners or wishes to be bite/mark that leads to hickeys

How would they react if they're the one pretending to be asleep on MC (no past life), and MC just like admiring them, kissing them, touching them etc.

How would they react if MC (no past life) say this to them: Even though we just met, I feel like I've known you for ages. Till forever falls apart.

Reaction to MC saying 'I love you'?

How would they react if MC said that they feel they don't deserve the ROs as they're reminded how much a murderer they became past life, and when the ROs trying to console them to explain why, instead, the ROs got back their past life memories and may or may not learn what MC did to revenge for them? (God, this is a hella angst!)

How would everyone beside Maverick (given we have a snippet, and shout out to that amazing anon!) react, if they're the first learned MC has been reincarnated in this world as well, but with no memories?

Bye! 👋👋!

ndjksandjkas XD I'll try my best to answer all of these asks.

Which part would they want to bite/mark their partners or wishes to be bite/mark that leads to hickeys

Where they want to mark on / Where they like getting marked on

Maverick: Neck / also neck (He would definitely show it off too)

Rydigan: The collarbone / I don't know if it's possible, but he would be happy to have his ears bitten or marked by MC somehow.

Ittania: Fingers or hands / Her breasts.

Enid: Torso / Her thighs or ankles.

How would they react if they're the one pretending to be asleep on MC (no past life), and MC just like admiring them, kissing them, touching them etc.

Maverick: He would let MC do so. This would also make Maverick want to dote on MC more when he next sees them.

Rydigan: He'll do a good job pretending...But holy shit, would he would be going 'fuck fuck fuck fuck' in his head SO much because MC is being so adorable and Rydigan wants to kiss them too but he's afraid to scare them away so-

Ittania: Unlike Rydigan, Ittania would immediately wake up and be quite flustered, wanting to know why MC would kiss and touch her. She'll be embarrassed but also prevent MC from running away, shyly telling them that she doesn't mind if they keep doing it to her, asleep or not...

Enid: Enid wouldn't pretend to sleep next to MC because she'll actually sleep on MC. MC provides a safe presence that she has only felt with Maverick and the others. But in her route, MC's presence not only gives her safety, but it makes her so comfortable that she actually lets her guard down towards them.

How would they react if MC (no past life) say this to them: Even though we just met, I feel like I've known you for ages. Till forever falls apart.

Maverick: A soft, albeit sad, look in his eyes. But he would have a gentle smile too, telling MC "The feeling is very much mutual."

Rydigan: Tear up and try to push through with a smile, promising MC that they'll always be together, for all their lives.

Ittania: Gets choked up and has to actually look away, unable to say anything. If MC asks in concern, like "Hey, are you okay?" and Ittania answers in her blubbering mess. "I'ahm fyne!" (I'm fine!)

MC might end up comforting the crying Tani, who is just both touched from MC still loving her even in this life and in pain of not being able to tell MC the truth.

Enid: She won't know how to respond, quite honestly. Considering how she would try to keep a certain distance from Reincarnated!MC to save herself from further heartbreak, the fact MC would feel that way about her makes her close that distance a bit. She won't answer MC, but the soft look in her eyes seems to speak so much, even if her words don't seem to sound genuine. "You don't know that." It's a weak argument, even she knows.

After all, you have let her stuck around in the past life as well and vice versa; she knows it's possible for you to stick around her in this life too. And just like in the past life, she would let you.

How would everyone beside Maverick (given we have a snippet, and shout out to that amazing anon!) react, if they're the first learned MC has been reincarnated in this world as well, but with no memories?

Maverick: From this lovely snippet :D

Rydigan: Rydigan would be super excited. So much so, he'll come up to MC and talk with such familiarity and joy that he wouldn't notice how confused MC is until the crushing reality of MC not remembering the past life, much less him, hits him.

He'll be pretty distraught but he can slip back into an apologetic smile and apologize, trying to brush it off as him thinking he saw someone he recognize before introducing himself to MC. He'll be pretty friendly and try to build that bridge of friendship again, just like how he had done in the past life.

He just wishes he could reset the first impression he put on this life's MC...

Ittania: She'd go to MC and immediately hug them, telling them how much she misses them and how long she had wanted to see them. Just before she could confess her love for MC, they'll stop Ittania and ask "Who are you?"

That's when Ittania realizes MC doesn't remember, much to her horror. She'll be pretty embarrassed and heartbroken, unsure what she should do. Maybe MC finds it awkward or feels bad for Ittania, but perhaps they end up showing some pity to Ittania and ask her if she knew them from somewhere. That's when Ittania bursts into tears and MC, in their panic, tries to help wipe those tears away and Ittania ends up apologizing for not being able to save them, not being there for them...Only, this is all said in incoherent sobs and hiccups, which led to more confusion for MC.

Once Ittania calms down (especially with food to cheer her up), Ittania would apologize for making a scene and MC is just more worried if she's alright. This can lead to a pretty messy yet lighthearted, comforting start for the two of them though!

Enid: She would be on edge first, unsure how she should approach MC. Should she start with an apology? What if MC didn't want to see her for the failures? How would MC be thinking of if they saw her and their friends again?

But learning MC doesn't remember her or anything from their past life at all, Enid decided to keep her distance and only kept herself cordial and perhaps even cold to MC. But fate would constantly make her encounter MC and from time to time, Enid would somehow show enough actions that hint her affection and care for MC that even MC would go "Lady Caespes, are you...worried about me?" and Enid would end up being quite the tsundere, trying to deny it but doesn't pull away from MC either.

The other two questions are what I can't answer because that's in spoiler territory. :}

Thank you for the long ask, anon! XD

#TSR #The Sole Reminiscence #ROasks

[tunabesimpin]

LETS FUCKING GOOOOO CONGRATS ON 800+ FOLLOWERS TUNA <3 !! the event u made looks super fun i had to jump in!!! im working on my own drawing + tiny drabble with a different set of ocs for the event but in the meantime ill also submit smthn here !!!

so im submitting, ur fav lil shrimp, BIDA!!

bida's favorite thing to do in the summer is mostly to be super active, like playing sports and running around doing stupid shit! bida's already a bold character but the summer season somehow makes them even livelier..and chaotic.

at the party itself, bida is going to do anything and EVERYTHING, they'll be indulging in all the little events planned, goes crazy competitive over them even, they're particularly excited for capture the flag..as it reminds them of a game he used to play back home..and they are SCARY good at it...they might pickpocket a couple of unfortunate souls too, you better keep an eye for them if i were u/j

bida's gonna pull up to the beach wearing a shrimp colored tshirt and your average swim trunks, + a matching bucket hat and some funny looking shades! [they dont have enough money to buy an actual swimsuit so they just settle with what they have], as for what they're bringing? their floatie of course [that they stole from an unknown third party </3] , along with sunscreen and a plastic bag with lotssss of snacks

their fave color... surprisingly.... is pastel purple

sebek is their very unwilling and hesitant plus one, bida knew all their other friends were already going, so they settled on inviting their grumpiest batchmate!!! cue a 4'10 bida dragging sebek by the feet to the sandy beaches LMAO

PLSSS ive said too much already , again CONGRATS ON 800+ !! best of luck w this event !!

--- As the festivities began taking place, Bida was more then happy to sign up for each and everyone of them. Joining in for beach volleyball, battling with the water guns, and having a splash contest was already so fulfilling! But then it was finally time for capture the flag, the main event Bida had been waiting for all day.

With most if not all the guests having arrived, it was easy to start separating into teams for the final event. As participants lined up and were grouped off, Sebek and Bida bickered back and forth. "Come on Sebek~! I bet you're just afraid you'll lose to me!" Bida teased. Sebeke was appalled at the thought and was quick to shout "There's no way I will lose to the likes of you! My dedicated training will prove your efforts to be futile!" Bida rolled their eyes and smirked before being called to the red team. Sebek was then called to the blue team. Bida gave Sebek a look from across the battlefield, pointing their thumb up only to dramatically drop in down with a proud smile.

The whistle blew and it was time to start the battle! Sebek was quick to play offense and managed to quickly charge headway to one of the red teams flags. The only one willing to take him head on being Bida. The chase begins! Bida quickly goes on the defensive, blocking Sebeks way back, effectively pushing him to run opposite. Sebek yelled as he was chased "GET THAT LOOK OFF YOUR FACE!" Bida smiled wickedly and mocked "What look~? Lookin at me? Aw" The two were practically running from side to side until Sebek finally found an opening to get back to blues base, but just as he thinks he's in the clear, Ace saves the red team on his way back by quickly nabbing the flag in Sebeks flag. Ace calls out "Ahaha getting too lovey dovey Croc!" The slip of the hand leaves Sebek speechless, but it's not a problem as Bida's laughter quickly fills the silence. ---

EEEE THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING!!! I HOPE THIS WASN't TOO MUCH XD I had so much fun drawin n writin this! Bida is such a chaotic lil menace i love. & thank u sm for the congratz !!! <3

#tuna be talkin #ellovett #tunasseasidesq #event request #twst fanevent #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst fanart #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #twst bida

[skymaiden32]

Danger In The North Sea

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or write new stories)

I may have rushed a little bit at the end ^^' 

But I really want to catch up as much as I can with the other stories that have piled up over the past few months... If I have time, I'll see if I can rewrite the chapter.

Next story will hopefully be out in the next few days. Maybe two if life doesn't throw me anymore curveballs than it already has this month... XD

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

------

“How’s it looking, Gordo?” The voice of his elder brother almost broke Gordon’s concentration. Almost…

The aquanaut replied as quickly as he could. “Pretty good, actually. There’s a manual valve down here, so I could probably turn off the drill myself.”

Virgil hummed. “That’s convenient…”

Gordon sounded just as relieved as Virgil felt. “Tell me about it.” He took another look at the valve, quickly getting his scuba gear before returning to the waiting radio. “I’ll get this done, while you focus on evacuating everyone off the rig before it collapses.” A loud creaking noise above him reminded the aquanaut of their unknown time limit. “We can’t wait for Thunderbird One and John anymore. If he gets here soon and can help, great. But we’ve got to do this. And it’s got to be now.”

“FAB.” Thunderbird Two’s pilot nodded, although he knew his brother wouldn’t see it. “Honestly, I’m sure we can do this ourselves at this point, but I wonder what’s keeping him. He should’ve been here by now…”

“I could call him, if you want.” Gordon suggested, grinning. Virgil shook his head.

“Nah, I can do that. You’ve gotta have your undivided attention on that thing…”

“Got it!”

Virgil moved the great ship over to where the oil rig workers were waiting, lowering the rescue capsule as he did so. While waiting for the relatively small group of people to load themselves up, he turned the radio link with Thunderbird One on. “Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One, come in please.”

After a couple of tense moments, the voice of his immediate younger brother rang through the air, and it sounded pretty tense. “Receiving Thunderbird Two.” The wind howled on the other end of the line, clueing Virgil into what was going on. “Sorry, got a little bit of turbulence…” The note of panic in his brother’s voice told him it wasn’t just that.

“Sounds like you’ve got more than just a turbulence to deal with there, John…” Virgil grimaced. “What’s going on, and how bad is it?”

“I’ve already told base about this, but…” John groaned. “I’ve got weapons trained and firing on me from all sides. I don’t know who they are; there’s no marking in sight, but I’m taking evasive action while still trying to make it to you guys.” He inhaled sharply as a missile came dangerously close to hitting the plane. It felt like whoever this was had sent a full battalion after him, even though it was only a single battleship. “They came out of nowhere!”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “Bad is a bit of an understatement, huh?” He muttered, voice barely a whisper. 

The next thing that came from his brother was shouted. “I can’t keep this up for much longer, Virgil! I’m gonna cr-” The radio fizzled with static, shutting off abruptly. Virgil couldn’t keep his panic at bay. 

“John? JOHN?! Come in, Thunderbird One! Are you receiving me?!” After a few more tries to raise his brother, he looked down at the oil rig, trying to calm down and think rationally. There wasn’t a person in sight anymore. A small blessing, he supposed. The evacuation was complete. Now all that was left to do was get Gordon, get the workers someplace safe, and then look for their brother. “Gordon.” He opened up the link, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument. “Get Thunderbird Four back in that pod, as quick as you can. We’ve got to go help John…”

“FAB. Already waiting to be picked up.” Gordon frowned. “What’s happened? Give me the details…”

------

Jeff had lost count of how much time had passed since they’d lost contact with John. He had hoped that people would stop trying to shoot his boys out of the sky by now, but it seemed that the universe just had it out for their family. He had bounced a few ideas of who the aggressors could possibly be off of both Scott and Alan, as well as his mother, the Kyrano’s and Brains, and they had all come to the same conclusion.

Unless it was some unknown enemy they had yet to face, which seemed unlikely, only the Hood would be this bold. The thought scared all of them, especially Kyrano. The Hood had only made that threat the night prior. His brother was getting stronger, both with his powers, and politically…

“Please tell me it’ll be okay, Kyrano…” Jeff’s broken voice broke him out of his daze, and Kyrano grimaced at the look his friend gave him. “Please tell me that my sons will be safe from him…”

Kyrano froze. “I…” How could he promise something like that? “I can’t… I’m sorry…” 

Jeff just nodded, understanding. It wasn’t fair for him to have asked that question, he knew that. But still… “Stay safe, boys…” He whispered to the heavens. Maybe, just maybe, they would hear him.

------

Up on Thunderbird Five, Scott wasn’t dealing with the situation much better than his father was. Alan watched worriedly on the other side of the screen as his eldest brother paced to and from various instruments, trying to get the line to Thunderbird One back. He knew it was likely pointless, but he had to do something!

“Scott, please chill out…” Alan tried, only to be met with a concerned glare. He continued. “If you pace around like that too much, you’re gonna push back your recovery.” The youngest Tracy frowned. “At least sit down for a little bit…” 

“How can I just sit around when they’re in danger, Alan?” Scott sighed, running a hand through his frazzled hair, but he gave in to his brother’s request anyway. “How do you and John do it?”

Alan folded his arms, smiling. He inwardly sighed with relief when Scott smiled back. “Oh, trust me. We can barely handle it ourselves. Last month… Hearing Agent Omega cornering you and Gordon…” Alan pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was the worst. I wanted to help you guys so bad, but I couldn’t.” He sighed. “And I still can’t…” He looked back at Scott, who was looking at him with sympathy. “So believe me, I totally feel your pain. But when they get home, and they will get home, I don’t wanna see anymore Smotherhen… Stop worrying about us so much. Got it? You’re dangerously close to going grey too early.”

Scott huffed. “You know I can’t promise to turn that off completely, but I can promise that I’ll try. Only if you guys don’t walk on eggshells around me when I’m back on Earth. My leg may still be screwed up, but I’m not an invalid. I can still do things.”

Alan smirked. “Fair enough. Bet Dad’ll make you stay in One when you go out on rescues, though.”

“Oh my poor naive little brother, that’s a guarantee…” Scott snorted.

------

John had breathed a sigh of relief when Thunderbird Two had shown up, scaring his attackers off without Virgil even having to fire a single shot. It also made him scratch his head a bit. He had a sneaking suspicion of the Hood’s involvement, but why fire on just one Thunderbird and leave the other one alone? Why target Thunderbird One?

He sighed as they finally made it back home, struggling to fly using damaged instruments. That was a worry for later. For now, it was good to be home…

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #kyrano thunderbirds #sky writes stuff #thunderbirds calendar 2022 project

[moonlit-flowerfield]

Hello I'm back with another "I was reminded of this AU and now I wanna flesh more out" hour courtesy of @djbead123. Shout out for resparking this bullshit 🤣

Monster AU XD

WE'VE GOT

Patton Moon - 24, brand new vampire, literally just turnt about a month and a half before the storyline starts. Poor man be starving when he meets the others because "I might hurt someone!!" so he would have been doomed without the help of the rest. Runs into...

Virgil Nyx - 208 years old, vampire. He has been in the same place as Patton (turnt then abandoned [not traditionally how that process goes]), so he's like "nah you're with us now" and kinda low key kidnaps him but also got permission to??? Anyway, Virgil's really chill and does everything needed to help Patton out.

Roman and Remus Manchester - 30 both, twin eldritch monsters (or werewolves, not sure yet). Roman is literally head over heels for Virgil and from what he can tell it's most likely mutual??? Remus is just Remus but with way more desire for cuddles.

Janus Drake - 100, Naga. He's kinda cold but it's because most everyone is cold to Nagas. He's thankfully been with Virgil long enough to have gotten used to a form of affection/kindness. "Aquired" the mansion they all live in, he calls the time he got it the "dark ages"

Thomas Sanders - 33, witch. Closest monster to human. He's also technically not an actual monster, just a human with a deeper connection to magic. He doesn't live with the rest, just visits at random and stays for long periods of time. Good friend to all of them :)

Logan Harlow - 29, human. He got off because Remus liked his smell and him, and now he lives with them and studies/researches them bc he wants to slowly work on helping monsters integrate with humanity (and preferably not have to hide). He also may or may not have screwed Remus, Janus and Virgil. For research. No other reason.👀

So basically Patton meets Virgil because he gets to the point where he literally can't control himself and goes after the first human he sees (which just happened to be a vampire who learned how to conceal his vampire scent) and naturally fails to get blood bc Virgil is small but he's fast and strong and way more used to this than Pat

Takes pat to the mansion, invites him in

And they get him some good blood and calmed.

Logan's going past after coming back from work, and is "cold" to Patton bc hahaha nerd be anxious round new people and doesn't at all miss that this new person is a newly fed vamp then goes to his room.

Janus is mad bc "I really did not agree to foster monsters, and the last time I fostered monsters, Remus and Roman became attached and got me attached."

But ya know, he knows vampire laws and rules and stuff, so he's letting Patton stay for that shit.

After about a month, Thomas shows up and is like "yeah, there is apparently a big witch convention and I uh I'm kinda having to attend but I ain't got a place to stay"

And Janus is like "your room has not been touched, just like last time"

I'm pretty sure I want Prinxiety but idk for the other four (I'm leaning towards DLMR, but idk man)

Big conflict has to do with monster hunters

:|

And that's all I got.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides au #monster au #monster sides

[crystalninjaphoenix]

The Eternal Edifice

A Horror Septic Story

(Okay, so, out of all the things I’ve written over the four years of writing JSE fanfiction (God I can’t believe it’s been that long), this piece is probably the thing that’s MOST removed from anything JSE. In fact, you could argue that it’s technically fanfiction for a DIFFERENT YouTuber up until the end XD Anyway, that’s not important. That’s just a fun little side tangent. This is still a crucial part of the ongoing story. Onto the summary: Some time has passed, and Stacy’s been looking for a job. She hears about one and decides to check it out, but it turns out the listing wasn’t exactly honest...)

—————

Two months had passed since they arrived in the city, and summer was starting to fade. Around this time last year, Stacy was getting the kids ready for school, buying supplies and reminding them not to stay up too late. Now? She wasn’t sure if they should be enrolled. Nothing strange had happened since that...glitchy...thing had shown up a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean everything was okay.

The family was still staying with Mark and Amy, a fact that Stacy was starting to be concerned about. She knew they were really pushing their generosity. Even though the couple had been nothing but nice about it. Stacy had started insisting on doing chores around the house to make up for it. After all, she couldn’t exactly pay rent without a job. And she was having a surprising amount of trouble finding one.

The kids were happy enough, though. Obviously there were still major problems—besides all the mental scarring from the supernatural activity, they were still probably adjusting to life in general. But they had video games and movies and other things to entertain them.

Larkin loved to play with Mark and Amy’s dogs. Stacy had also bought him a new coloring book the last time she went out. She asked Mathew if he wanted anything, too. He said he was fine, but she wanted to keep it fair, so she bought him some new headphones. Pretty cheap ones, but his old pair were starting to get frayed around the plug. Mathew’s eyes lit up when she gave them to him. He wasn’t using his phone as often, but was comfortable with the house computers, and plugged his headphones into the speakers.

Still, the threat of running out of money lingered over her head. It was frustrating that this was the thing she was most worried about, when the family had survived much worse. And there was no guarantee that the worst had passed, either. They hadn’t been bothered by anything strange since that glitchy thing, but something else could always be coming.

She wondered if John was alright. Several nights she was kept awake by doubts, asking herself if she should have gone after him. Maybe. She could have at least made sure he was alright. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been panicking and bleeding heavily from his eye. Sometimes she could hear what he shouted in the silent moments of her life: “Forget about me like everyone else does.” Maybe she should have ran after him instead of letting him just leave.

But would she have even been able to help? She’d had some time to think about it, and she was pretty sure why John had been so frantic upon hearing about the thing haunting Mathew. She knew, somewhere deep inside, why that thing had accepted his offer: “Do whatever you want to me, just leave them out of it.” But she didn’t want to put it into words. It felt...wrong somehow. Like a violation of privacy.

Still. There was nothing she could do about it now. It was hard enough to find someone in the world who had a house to find and a bank account to track. John had neither. She couldn’t do anything except ask around, and she had a hunch that wouldn’t do much. No. Right now, Stacy had to focus on her own, more immediate problems. Even though she wished she could help.

Things changed one early fall afternoon. She had just gone grocery shopping and was busy loading the foodstuffs into the various cupboards when Amy approached her. “Hey, are you still looking for a job?” she asked.

Stacy glanced at her and laughed, trying to sound lighthearted. “Yeah, I’d have let you know if I found one.”

“God, the economy must be in shambles.” Amy shook her head.

“It’s fine. The real problem is that I’m probably being too picky. I’d be fine working as, like, a waitress somewhere. Eventually I’ll save up money.” She said this, but really, Stacy doubted that she could do much on minimum wage. Sure, maybe they could eventually be able to afford a hotel room to live in instead of relying on Mark and Amy. But they needed a stable life. Still...just having a place of their own was something to settle for.

“Well, I saw this online.” Amy reached over the counter and handed her a sheet of paper. “Printed it out for you.”

Stacy took the paper, looking down at a listing that was probably taken from a job site. There were multiple positions available, but they all boiled down to, well, basically “housekeeping.” At the bottom of the listing was an address for somewhere that was technically part of the city, but so far away that it might as well have been a different city altogether. “What is it?” she muttered.

“Okay, so. You know rich people?”

“Yeah.”

“You know how they have huge houses that need a lot of stupid maintenance?”

“Yeah.” Stacy scanned the available positions again. “I’m, uh...not really qualified for—holy shit, fifty dollars an hour?!” That was more than the hourly wages of all her previous jobs combined!

Amy laughed. “Yeah, I know, right? Usually these guys tend to underpay, but I guess this guy decided to go the opposite way.” She shrugged. “Anyway. You don’t have to apply, but I thought it might be helpful. Even if it’s just a temporary solution.”

“I—This would be helpful,” Stacy said, pointing out the obvious. But as she read the listing for a third time, she noticed something odd. “There’s no, uh...there’s no listed way of contacting whoever put this up. No phone number or website or anything. Was there one on the website you got this from?”

“No, I didn’t see one,” Amy said slowly. “I guess you have to drive up there? Is...is that gonna be a problem?”

“No, it’s not a problem, just kind of weird.”

“Well, you’d probably need to go there eventually,” Amy figured. “If you’re going to be cleaning a house all the time you want to know what that house looks like.”

Stacy nodded. “I...guess I’ll drive up there. Would Saturday be a good day? I mean, can I use your car then?”

“Probably. I’ll check the calendar later to make sure nothing’s going on.”

“Great. Thank you so much, by the way, I-I really appreciate all this.”

Amy smiled. “Well don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you around.”

As she left the kitchen, Stacy scanned the address on the listing, taking out her phone to search up directions. This could work. It wasn’t her ideal job, but with that pay? Working there for even a little while was guaranteed to get her enough money to start moving on. She’d have to focus on the little things first, like clothes and other belongings, but eventually she could get a rental apartment, possibly even find an old used car. And with the more...mundane problems taken care of, she could finally turn her attention back to the more unusual ones. Maybe find some way to keep her and her kids safe for good.

* * * * * * * * * *

That Saturday, she got in the car around noon, told Mathew and Larkin that she’ll be back evening at the latest (she wasn’t sure how long this would take so she overshot it), and headed on up to the place from the listing.

The address was a long drive away. Stacy got lost a couple times, certain that she was going the wrong way. But she knew she was getting close when the houses started getting bigger. Sprawling mansions with lawns that were only slightly smaller than a football field. She didn’t know that houses like this actually existed. Apparently they do. How rich was this guy to be able to afford a place like this?

Eventually, she found her way there, turning off the main road and down a driveway that was basically a small road in and of itself. The driveway passed through some trees and ended in a circle. Beyond a short brick wall and open iron gate was the house. Or...mansion. As Stacy got out of the car, she stared up at the dark cobbled walls, broken by narrow iron windows. The design was wide, no more than maybe two stories, looking almost like several short towers stuck together. She walked up to the front entrance—marked by a couple low steps and grand banisters to either side—and knocked on the dark wooden door.

A few moments passed. Then someone called from inside, “Come in!” So she opened the door and stepped into the front hall.

The inside was just as grand as the outside. She looked around, taking in the white walls and tiled floor of the entrance, as well as its decorations, which included a large mirror. There was a balcony overhead and to the left was a wide living room. It looked like this place had a very open floor plan. 

“Oh, hello.”

There was a man in the living room. He was sitting on one of the fancy sofas, but stood up when he saw Stacy. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over and held out his hand, flashing a charming smile.

“I’m Stacy. Stacy Allen.” As she shook his hand, Stacy scanned this man. He was taller than her by about half a head. His hair was black, and his eyes were a dark brown color. He wore a red long-sleeved shirt over a pair of black pants. And he looked kind of familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “I, uh, heard you had some openings in here. For some positions...Do I talk to you about that?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Would you like a tour, Ms. Allen?”

“Um, yes, that would be nice.”

“Fantastic.” Marcus smiled again, and turned around. “Follow me, we’ll start with the first floor.”

Stacy spent the next while following Marcus around the house, listening to him explain what each room was and what the history behind the various decorative pieces were. Apparently this was his house, something he’d inherited from his parents when they passed. He lived alone, but since the house was so big, he needed people to take care of it. That’s where the empty positions came in.

“Do you have any experience in maintaining a house? Or a garden?” Marcus asked her.

“I’m very good at cleaning,” Stacy said, carefully not saying that she didn’t have any more housekeeping experience than the average person. “I’ve never seen a house this big before, though. But I’m, uh, willing to take on a challenge!” She laughed awkwardly.

Marcus laughed as well, much more naturally than her. “I’m sure you could learn. Unfortunately I haven’t found anyone else to take on the chores yet, so you’d be the only one here. But feel free to ask me if you have any questions. Now before we go explore the cellar or the second floor, let’s take a walk around the grounds.”

It was a very long walk. Not particularly hard, as there were a lot of paved paths, but the grounds were massive. Stacy made it very clear that she was not qualified to take care of something of this size, but that “I’d be willing to learn!” Sure, maybe she didn’t want to work outside. But she was getting pretty desperate for a job at this point. Marcus assured her there would be plenty of positions inside the house, and then resumed the tour inside. They saw the cellar, the kitchens, the many parlor rooms and bedrooms, and then they returned to that first living room, right by the entrance hall.

“Alright,” Stacy said, looking around. “So...do you need my phone number to contact me? If I get the job?”

“What do you mean?” Marcus asked. “Of course you have the job!”

Stacy’s heart pounded in her chest. “Wait, really?”

“You seem like a good fit,” he said. “How soon can you start?”

“Oh, I-I don’t know.” She wasn’t expecting this at all. Maybe rich people didn’t care who did their cleaning as long as it got done? Part of her couldn’t believe this. After so long looking in the city, applying on everything online and walking into every place with a hiring sign, had she finally done it? Would she be able to buy her sons actual new clothes, instead of scouring the Goodwills for the cheapest option that was close to fitting? Could she pay Mark and Amy back for their kindness, and eventually find a place to stay? “Um...next week?”

“That would be great,” Marcus said, grinning.

“Great!” Stacy paused. “Um, I should probably get going, then.” She dug her phone out of her purse checking the time. “Oh! I-I should really get going.” She’d already been here for an hour, and it had taken her an hour to drive up here.

“Oh, are you sure you want to drive in this weather?” Marcus asked, concern lining his face.

“What weather?” Stacy turned around, looking through the windows by the door. Outside, it was dark. She frowned, and opened the door, revealing rain pouring down in sheets, half-flooding the driveway. As she stared, lightning forked across the sky, instantly followed by a deafening clap of thunder. “What the—?!” It was fine while she was driving up. Sure, the day had been gray and overcast as they walked around the grounds, but nothing to indicate this was going to happen.

“I know it’s a long way back to the city from here,” Marcus said. “And this doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon. If you want, I have plenty of spare bedrooms. You saw them all on our tour.” He chuckled good-naturedly.

“Um...” Stacy hesitated, then closed the front door. “Let me call my kids first. Let them know I won’t be home and that my, uh, roommates should look after them.” She really, really didn’t want to do this. Anything could happen to Mathew and Larkin while she was away—including things of the more...paranormal variety. But if she drove out on the winding, unfamiliar roads in this weather, she was just as likely to get in a wreck. This was probably safer. She pulled out her phone, already planning what to say, when her eyes flicked to the top of the screen to check her battery and signal. And she noticed something strange. “Oh, you don’t have Internet out here?”

“I do, it’s just been down for the past day or so,” Marcus said casually. “The company doesn’t want to drive all the way out here. It should be fixed by next week. Is this a problem?”

“No, it’s fine.” She still had cell signal to make calls. “I’ll...find a book to read or something.”

Marcus let her choose which bedroom to pick, and she chose a medium-sized one with a good lock—sure, she didn’t want to drive home in a storm, but she didn’t want to relax quite yet. Marcus seemed nice enough, but by now she knew appearances were deceiving. At least his red shirt wasn’t a red hoodie.

Thunder echoed across the sky as rain pounded against her window. The wind howled, and Stacy had a hard time falling asleep out of a baseless anxiety that the storm would blow down the house. But, eventually, her eyes slipped closed and she drifted off.

* * * * * * * * * *

The house had dark cobbled walls, broken by narrow iron windows. Its design was wide, no more than maybe two stories, looking almost like several short towers stuck together. Stacy walked up to the front entrance—marked by a couple low steps and grand banisters to either side—and knocked on the dark wooden door.

Wait.

Hadn’t she just done this?

She looked around. The sky overhead was filled with gray clouds. But there was no sign of a storm. She turned around and saw the front of her car, poking out from behind the brick wall and open iron gate. Everything was...the same.

“Come in!” A voice called from inside.

Stacy didn’t like this. She wanted to turn around and walk back to her car, pretending that the knock was just some salesman that decided to leave. But instead, she found herself opening the front door and stepping inside.

The inside was just as grand as the outside. The entrance hall had white walls, decorated with various items, including a large mirror. Its floor was tiled. There was a balcony overhead and to the left was a wide living room. This was...exactly the same. She’d definitely done this, hadn’t she? She’d been in this entrance hall before.

“Oh, hello.”

There was a man in the living room, standing up from one of the fancy sofas. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over and held out his hand, flashing a smile.

Stacy reluctantly took his hand and shook it. “Hi. I’m, uh...Stacy.” She glanced around, then looked Marcus over. He had black hair and dark brown eyes, was taller than her by half a head, and wore a red long-sleeved shirt. She had seen him before. She had just seen him, right before going to bed. “Um...this might sound weird, but...have we met?”

Marcus looked confused. “No, I don’t think so. You don’t look familiar. Why?”

“I...I was...I think...” Stacy looked around again. She extracted her hand from the handshake and backed up. “I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong house.”

“You do?” Marcus’s face fell in disappointment. “Oh. I was wondering if you were here about the job openings.”

“N-no, I think—I think this is wrong.” Stacy backed up, then turned around and grabbed the handle of the front door. “I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” She stepped through the door.

And she walked into a room with stone walls, almost empty except for a long counter and a wall full of racked wine bottles. “And this is the wine cellar,” a voice said. Marcus stepped around her and gestured at the room. “I don’t really drink a lot of alcohol. Family condition. But I keep them for parties, so others can have a good time if they want.”

“Wait.” Stacy turned around. Behind her were stairs leading upwards. “I—what?”

“What is it?” Marcus asked gently.

“I just—we—I was—” Stacy put a hand against the wall. It was cool beneath her palm. Solid. “I’ve been here.”

“Oh, did I already show you the cellar?” Marcus chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. I guess my memory failed me. We can look at the second floor now.”

“No, I—this is—” Stacy knocked on the wall. Still solid. It was really there.

“Ms. Allen, are you...are you alright?” Marcus asked slowly, looking at her with worry. “Do you need to sit down? It’s a big estate, I know, it’s fine if it’s too much walking.”

Stacy said nothing. She looked at him, mouth half-open as if waiting for words to form, but none came. Marcus continued to look at her, the worry glinting in his eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned. Did he...not know? Or was she just...losing it a bit?

No. No, she wasn’t losing it. She was past the point of thinking every weird thing she saw had a rational explanation. Something was going on here. But how could she get out of it? Walking through the front door didn’t work. Maybe she had to finish the tour first? “I’m...fine,” she said slowly. “Let’s go see the rest of the house.”

Marcus nodded slowly, and the two of them left, heading up to the second story. He said all the same things he’d said the first time, showing her all the same bedrooms, bathrooms, and spare rooms. Then they went down one of the many staircases in the house, and ended up in the entrance hall again. “Well, that’s the whole of it,” Marcus said. “What do you think?”

“Um, well...” Stacy shifted awkwardly. “Thank you very much, but I don’t know if this job is really for me after all.”

“Oh, really?” Marcus sighed. “That’s a shame. But if you change your mind, I don’t think I’ll be able to fill all these positions for a while.”

“Great. Great. I’ll keep that in mind.” Stacy walked towards the front door, as quickly as she could without being strange. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Are you sure you want to drive home in this weather?” Marcus asked.

Stacy opened the front door, revealing...the exact same storm. The exact same storm. The water puddling on the driveway was exactly as high as it had been. The same sheets of rain fell down in the same pattern. As she watched, the lightning that broke across the sky arced the way it had before, followed by an instant thunderclap that deafened her again.

“It will be fine,” she said. “I-I’ll be back if I can’t find anything else.” That was a blatant lie. She was never coming back here again.

“Well, alright,” Marcus said, confused. “We’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah.” Stacy walked through the door.

* * * * * * * * * * 

The inside was just as grand as the outside. The entrance had white walls and a tiled floor. Decorations covered those walls, including a large mirror. There was a balcony overhead and to the left was a wide living room. 

“What the hell?!” she shouted.

“Oh, hello.”

There was a man in the living room, standing. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over and held out his hand, a smile on his face.

“I’m—um—” Stacy backed away. “Sorry, wrong house!” She spun around, threw open the front door, and ran out.

* * * * * * * * * * 

The inside was just as grand as the outside. The entrance had white walls and a tiled floor. Decorations covered those walls, including a large mirror. There was a balcony overhead and to the left was a wide living room. 

Stacy took a deep breath. Okay. Maybe she couldn’t leave through the front door. That was fine. There were plenty of other exits; she’d seen them on the first tour.

“Oh, hello.”

A man was standing in the living room. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over and held out his hand, a smile stretching his face.

“Hi,” Stacy said slowly, taking his hand for a shake and letting go as soon as she was able.

“And...what’s your name?” Marcus asked. “Are you here about the open positions?”

“Y-yeah.” Stacy nodded. “I’m...Stacy.”

“Ah. Alright, then. Would you like a tour, Ms. Allen?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t bother to ask how he knew her last name when she hadn’t told him. “Uh, show me around. Thank you.”

Stacy spent the next while following Marcus around the house, listening to him explain what each room was and what the history behind the various decorative pieces were. She was paying attention, but not because she found it particularly interesting. She had to see if the things he said were the same. And they seemed to be, for the most part. It was a bit harder to remember, since it had been a good few hours since she heard the first spiel. Or...had it been that long at all? Maybe this had never happened before, and time was restarting?

They were finished with the first floor. She waited for Marcus to take the tour outside. But instead, he turned around and started going down another hall. “Now, if you’ll follow me to the second floor,” he said.

“Wait.” Stacy stopped where she was. “Aren’t we going to go outside?”

Marcus looked back at her and frowned. “Well, I was planning on it, but I figured you didn’t want to explore the gardens with that storm.”

“Storm?!” Stacy turned around and ran back the way they came, until she stopped in front of a pair of glass doors. Outside, it was pouring rain. She looked up at the black sky and saw that same fork of lightning flash across the clouds, its branches identical to the past two times. The thunderclap that followed was the same, but it seemed even louder now. “When the actual hell?!”

“They start up quickly around here,” Marcus said, sighing. “You get used to it. Come on. We can see the grounds some other time.”

Stacy shook her head. “No. No, it’s fine.” She reached forward and grabbed the handle of the glass door, flinging it open. Before Marcus could say anything else, she walked right out.

“—and this is the spare guest bedroom.”

She was in a room with a large queen-sized bed, its sheets and blankets neatly made. The walls were papered in a green pattern of old flowers. Marcus walked around her, gesturing at how big the room was. “This wardrobe looks old, but it’s actually pretty new, only about ten years old. My parents got it to replace the last one that broke, commissioning it to look exactly the same.”

Stacy stayed rooted to the spot. She looked over her shoulder and saw the second floor hallway extending to the left and right.

“I’m sorry, I realize this is probably pretty boring,” Marcus said.

“No, no, it’s—uh, one moment.” Stacy walked into the room. Her eyes were fixed on the nearest window. She threw it open, sitting on the windowsill.

“What are you doing?!” Marcus shouted.

She swung her legs over the ledge and eyed the ground below. It was only two stories. She’d much rather deal with the injuries of a survivable fall than stay in here. And with that, she dropped out of the window.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Oh, hello.”

She was in the living room, and there was a man standing across from her. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He walked closer and held out his hand, a smile on his face showing his white teeth.

Stacy blinked. She didn’t take the hand. Instead, she looked around. They were in the living room next to the entrance hall...but she couldn’t see the entrance hall. Where there had previously been a wide, open entrance to the front entrance of the house, there was now a single doorway, connecting into...the kitchens. But...the kitchens entrance had been over there—no. Where that doorway had been, there was now a blank wall.

“Are you alright, Ms. Allen?” Marcus asked.

Stacy looked back at him. He was not wearing the same shirt. It was still red, but this one was a button-down, not the thick, almost sweater-looking one from before. “Do you know what’s going on here?” Her voice was harsh, urgent.

Marcus’s face scrunched in confusion. “What’s going on here?” he repeated.

“The whole—the repeating thing!” Stacy said. “This—i-it just—it deteriorated so quickly into this—this weird loop! What the fuck is going on?!”

Marcus took a step back. “Um, I’m sorry, Ms. Allen, but...are you okay?”

“No! I’m not okay! I’m—there was—how do I get out of this house?!”

“I don’t...through the doors?” Marcus shook his head. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“Call someone!” Of course! Stacy was still holding her purse, the same way she had when walking into the house for the first time. She opened it up and took out her phone—and was greeted by the small words ‘No Service’ on the top of the screen. “Wh-what?”

“Oh, we don’t have cell service out here,” Marcus said calmly. “Or Internet. The last storm knocked them both out, and the company hasn’t been back up to fix the towers yet. But you can use my landline.”

“Where is it?” Stacy demanded.

“Um...” Marcus stepped back again. He pointed towards the one other entrance into the room: a wide arch leading into a different sitting area. “Through there, down the hall. On the wall in the room at the end.”

Stacy didn’t say anything else, merely hurrying off in the direction he indicated. She opened the last door at the end of the hall and walked into a small closet. It was dark, full of cleaning supplies, and no phone to be seen. Just in case, she searched the shelves, frantically shoving aside mops and dust rags. Nothing. Forcing down her rising panic, she spun around and walked back into the hallway.

This...was not the hallway.

It was a hallway. It was a hallway in the house. But not the first floor hall she’d run down. It was a second floor hall, one lined with bedrooms and ending in a spiral staircase downward. She stared at it. Then reached out and grabbed the balcony of the staircase. Still as solid as ever.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay, Stacy. Think. This is—this is not normal. This has to be something... something supernatural. You’ve been in a supernatural place before. One that was kind of a maze. Kind of like this.” She laughed a bit. It was kind of funny that her life had gone in such a direction to trap her in two supernatural mazes. “There...has to be a trick to this. One exit has to work. Or...maybe you have to do something. Something specific. God. You can figure this out. You can do it.”

She took a moment to steady herself, breathing in, holding it, then breathing out. It was going to be fine. She’d survived worse before. At least nothing in this house was actively hunting her down. With that small reassurance, she headed down the staircase.

The staircase ended in a room with a fireplace. This was part of the house, and she was pretty sure it was supposed to be near this staircase, but it was different in how the stairs led directly into the room. But whatever. She shook that off, and began to look around. Searching for something, anything, that was unusual.

There was nothing in that room. So she headed to the next one and searched that. Again, there was nothing noteworthy. And the same could be said for the next room. And the next. And the next. Every room in this house was just...a room in a house. Nothing that interesting about them, aside from how expensive the furniture and decorations looked. And, obviously, the fact that their order was slightly out of place.

She kept looking, though. And the more she looked through the rooms, the more they got shuffled up. She could recognize most of them by now, but she couldn’t map out where they belonged. The mental image she’d been forming of the house on that first tour was slowly degrading, unraveling at the seams. When she stepped through a door, there was no guarantee that turning around and walking through it again would lead to the same hallway as before. But she kept looking.

Time was passing. She was sure of it, as outside she could see the sky getting darker and darker. But...night time was approaching faster than usual. Her phone still worked, and its clock was still keeping track of time just fine. She timed it out to be sure, counting “one Mississippi, two Mississippi...” and the minute changed the moment she counted sixty Mississippi. The phone was fine. It was the outside that wasn’t working. In just two hours, the sky through the windows darkened from noon to evening. Or...maybe it wasn’t. Maybe that was some sort of illusion on the windows. She had no way of knowing. Not all the windows opened, and she didn’t want to try the ones that did, just in case that somehow reset this loop and she lost...whatever progress she’d made. If she’d made any at all.

Stacy wasn’t sure how long she searched the rooms. But after a while, it wore on her. She sat down on the edge of a bed in one of the bedrooms, feeling the weariness in her muscles. She closed her eyes, just for a second.

* * * * * * * * * * 

“Oh, hello.”

She was in the living room, and there was a man standing in front of her. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He held out his hand, his mouth smiling.

Stacy blinked. She said nothing, and looked around again. The living room was the same in its furniture and coloring, but the walls were all different. There were doorways on each, all leading into an identical hallway. Four different ways to go, but...only one way to go, really.

“Are you alright?” Marcus asked.

She didn’t say anything, just turned and ran down one hall at random. It was a completely different one than last time, but one she recognized. There had to be something in here! Something that could get her out of this house! She flung open a door at random and began to search the room beyond. It was changing every time, maybe something was different. Maybe there was something she could use to—to—she wasn’t sure what she hoped to do. But maybe there was something!

The rooms were all the same. They weren’t connected in the same way, of course. But she recognized the rooms. She knew what was in them, and their contents hadn’t changed at all. Still, maybe there was something. So she kept looking. She walked through bedroom doors and ended up in the kitchen, went down a central staircase and found herself in a bedroom. Maybe there was something. Maybe there was something. Maybe there was...

“Hello.”

Stacy walked down a staircase and found herself in that living room again. The walls were lined with identical staircases, some heading up, some heading down. There was a man standing at the base of her staircase, waiting for her as she stepped off it. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to meet you.” He held out his hand, a grin on his face.

“Where are we?!” Stacy shouted.

Marcus looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“This!” She gestured at the room, at the dozen identical staircases branching off from it. “This isn’t normal!”

“This is my house,” Marcus said, completely baffled by her tone. “I know it’s a little different from most houses, but—”

“This is more than different! The only house that’s even remotely like this is the fucking Winchester House, and even that doesn’t move its weird architecture around!” Stacy barely restrained herself from grabbing Marcus’s shirt and pulling him down to her level. “Where the fuck are we?!”

“We’re in California,” Marcus said haltingly. “Ms. Allen, please calm down.”

“You know who I am!” Stacy shouted. “You know my name! Why do you keep introducing yourself to me?!”

Marcus backed away. “It—it’s going to be alright,” he said slowly. “I’ll just...I’m going to go get something. You stay here and...and take a moment to breathe.” And he turned and half-ran to one of the staircases, quickly descending.

Stacy wasn’t sure if she wanted to follow him or run as far away as possible. In the end, she turned around and went back up the staircase she came from, finding herself in...what looked like one of the bedrooms. But now there was a door on each wall. She glanced around, and pulled one open at random, heading through.

Searching the rooms wasn’t doing any good. It was just making her tired. Though she hadn’t felt sleepy yet. Or hungry. Or thirsty. Which was weird, because her phone said that she’d been in this house for almost ten hours.

Then her phone abruptly died.

“What?!” Stacy held down the power button to see if it would turn back on. She smacked the side of it, and almost banged it against one of the dressers before thinking better of it. She hadn’t run out of battery. There had been about 60% left, but her phone had died nonetheless, and now she just saw her reflection in the screen. No way to call for help. Not that there had been cell signal in this place for the past few hours. But still. There was an odd sense of finality in her stomach as she stared at her own reflected face.

She had to keep going. Maybe going through the rooms in detail hadn’t helped, but maybe she would eventually find something different. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe.

The first time she saw a hallway that was unfamiliar, she really wasn’t surprised. It just seemed like the natural progression of things to open a bedroom door and find a long, strange hallway extending in front of her. She stepped through the doorway slowly and looked around. This hallway was wallpapered in a cream pattern, some sort of fancy fleur-de-lis on its surface. The floor was white marble tile. And at the distant end, she could see...the front entrance. It took her a moment to recognize it from this far away, but that was definitely the dark wooden door that she’d knocked on who-knows-how-long ago.

Stacy glanced behind her. The door she’d just come through was closed. They always closed behind her, even if she deliberately kept them open. She’d figured that out on her first run through of searching the rooms. Even propping them open with an item did nothing. They would close the second she blinked. When she looked forward again, she half-expected the front entrance to be gone. But it was still there. Still at the distant end of the hall.

Well, there was nowhere else to go. She started walking. Then she picked up the pace to a slow jog. Then a half-run. It was a long, long hallway she had to run down, and she wanted to be sure the front entrance wouldn’t disappear or something. But no matter how fast she went, the end of the hall was still distant.

She didn’t realize the other problem until she bumped her head while running. That made her slow down, and when she looked up, the ceiling was only a couple inches above her. She looked to the sides, and found that if she reached out with both hands, she could touch both walls of the hallway. Confused, she backed up, keeping her hands outstretched. The walls were the same distance away. The ceiling was the same distance away, even as she backed up to a point where she was sure it was higher.

Dread pooled in her stomach. She looked behind her, and found that the door she’d come through was still relatively close. She could turn around and head back into the house. But...the front entrance was in sight. It was there. She couldn’t just give up this opportunity.

So she began walking forward again.

A minute later, the front entrance was only a little closer, and the ceiling was brushing her hair. Two minutes later, she had to keep her head bent. Three minutes later, and she couldn’t stretch her arms all the way out anymore. But the entrance—the exit—was closer. It was definitely closer. She had to keep going.

The ceiling kept getting lower, and soon she was stooping. And then she was crouching. It was hard to move without her knees or elbows bumping against the walls, and the hallway kept closing in. But she could make out the details of the front entrance now, the patterns on the windows in the doors. She got on her hands and knees and crawled. And then the pressing ceiling forced her even lower, and she was pulling herself along the floor.

The front entrance loomed large, but she could see it. Through the small square that the hallway had become, she could see the base of the door. She pulled herself further and her shoulders and hips scraped against the walls. It was so close. If she could just...wriggle herself a bit farther...

And then she stopped.

There was no way she could go any farther. And yet, the end of this tunnel-like hallway was an arm’s reach away. The exit was there. She stopped, breathing heavily, the sound echoing in the small square she was trapped in. It was there.

Her arms were extended in front of her. Stacy raised a hand and reached, straining forward against the press of the walls. Her fingers whiffed through the air, and the very tip of her longest finger brushed against the wood of the door. Nothing happened. But maybe—maybe if she could just get a good hand on it...maybe...maybe...

She blinked.

“Hello.”

And here was the living room again. But...something was wrong. Beneath her feet, the floor felt tilted. She looked to where the floor joined the left wall, and saw it angle to the left. Then she looked to where the floor joined the right wall, and saw it angle in the exact same way. But...that was impossible. It couldn’t tilt in both directions, both towards her and away from her.

There was a man standing in front of her. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to see you.” He held out a hand, his lips parted and teeth bared. He was wearing a different red outfit. A red suit jacket and pants, with a white shirt and black bow tie.

The floor felt tilted. Stacy could feel the pull of gravity, but as she turned, trying to get her bearings, she couldn’t tell which way gravity was pulling her. Just that it was...pulling. It looked like the furniture was sliding across the floor, but each piece stayed exactly where it was, unmoving. The paintings on the wall—clusters of colors and shapes in the vague imitation of faces or landscapes—did not swing, but they seemed to tilt as well.

Stacy looked at Marcus. “You’re part of this, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Marcus asked, still showing his teeth.

“You have to be! I-I was wondering for a while if you were trapped in this loop too, but—but you have to be part of this. There’s no way you’re not! Not with the way you keep changing.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Stacy lunged forward, reaching out to grab him.

He was not that far away. He was standing barely three feet away, but as she reached, her hands stopped short of grabbing him. She staggered, then tried again, stepping forward. It felt like she was making progress. The floor wasn’t moving like a treadmill under her feet. But Marcus didn’t get any closer.

“I think you need to calm down,” he said. “I’ll see you later.” And he turned around and walked away, disappearing through an open door on the back wall.

“Get back here, you—!” Stacy broke into a run. But the ground sloped—or at least, it felt like it did, even though nothing in the room changed. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, briefly closing her eyes as she braced herself for the fall.

And when she looked up again, she was in a different room. Another parlor.

“Motherfucker,” she muttered, standing up. Well, now she had a goal, at least. She had to find Marcus—if that was really his name—and...somehow get him to let her out. She wasn’t sure how to do that part. But she would try.

The parlor she found herself in was familiar, but when she opened a door, it revealed an unfamiliar hallway. She definitely hadn’t seen this hall before. It wasn’t in the original house, nor was it that hall that closed in on her. But she still didn’t like it. Well, at least this one had other doors. Doors that led to...unfamiliar rooms.

And so she searched again, looking for any sign of Marcus. She didn’t know if she would be able to. As far as she could tell, Marcus only showed up occasionally, at the start of each deconstruction, when the house became even more strange. So, maybe she just had to wander until that happened. But she decided to look for him anyway. It gave her some sense of purpose, the illusion that she was doing something more than just walking around endlessly.

These rooms were new. She had never seen them before. And once she left one behind, she didn’t see it again. Some of them weren’t even one room. Not really. She found herself in a kitchen where the counters and appliances were interrupted by a bed and a couple dressers, the clean white walls occasionally covered in strips of pink wallpaper. And as she kept wandering, going down halls and stairs, through doors and rooms, this happened more and more. The floors were wood planks with tiles inserted into them. The ceilings had chandeliers and bare bulbs. The walls were a blend of paints and papers and occasionally bare concrete that all mashed together.

There were no windows to be seen. None that were functional, at least. Some of them were embedded in walls, with wood and plaster behind the glass. No sign of the outside. But occasionally, she heard thunder, which sounded distant and muffled, as if she were dozens of feet underground.

She was starting to get tired again, her feet starting to hurt from all this walking. Should she sit down? Would that cause another deconstruction? Did she want another one of those? Sure, it would probably lead her to Marcus, but things were already strange enough in this house as it was.

But soon, she did it anyway. She sat down on the nearest sofa without even thinking and closed her eyes.

“Hello.”

The living room again. This time, she couldn’t feel that tilting feeling, but...this was still wrong. The lines of the walls, ceiling, and floor didn’t join together right, their angles too small or too big, but it didn’t come together to form the shape they should. The furniture was proportioned the same way. She stared at a chair and tried to process how it was flat on the floor, when it should have fallen on its side, with one of its legs definitely longer than the rest. The floor that looked like it was sloping, but was level beneath her feet.

Marcus was standing in front of her. “My name is Marcus, it’s lovely to see you,” he said, his hand already out and his face split in a grin.

“What are you?” Stacy asked. “You’re—you can’t be human. Can you?”

“You’re right. I can’t be.”

“Well...what do you want?” Stacy wished that she’d brought her gun. But, well, that had seemed like a bad thing to bring to a job interview. God, how long ago had she driven up here? Were Mathew and Larkin okay? “You’ve trapped me in here. Good job. What do you want now that you’ve got me?”

Marcus’s hand curled up, and he pulled his arm back to his side. “Well, there’s really no delicate way to go about it. Do you really want to know what we want?”

“Yes, I—wait.” Stacy stared at him. Then her eyes darted around the room, even though it made her head swim. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

Marcus chuckled. “You mean, you haven’t picked up on it yet? You haven’t felt it?”

“Felt what?” Stacy fought to keep the fear from her voice, but the nerves crept in regardless.

“No, I want you to try. Go ahead.” His grin stretched. “Try to reach out. See if you can notice it.”

Stacy glared at him, but let out a little huff and did as he said. She breathed deeply, trying to center herself and see if she could pick up on anything unusual.

And, once she focused, she realized that something was off.

It felt like she was being watched.

She spun around, expecting to see some other creature creeping up behind her. But instead, there was just a wall. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She looked around the room again. There was no one there except her and Marcus, but...but it felt like there was another person. Another presence. She closed her eyes, trying to narrow down where the feeling came from.

But she couldn’t narrow it down. The presence wasn’t in any one location. It was all around her.

Her eyes flew open in alarm, and Marcus laughed. “Circle takes the square, I see!” he said. “Yes. You’ve found us.”

“This...this whole place...” Stacy whispered. She started to back away, but it wouldn’t make any difference. “It’s—it’s aware.”

“Yes. We’re very aware.” Marcus’s grin stretched again, despite his expression not changing. “We are alive, Stacy Allen. And we need you. And others, of course, but you’re great. It’s not often that someone who’s already claimed wanders in here without protection.”

“I-I—wha—y—” Stacy’s eyes darted around. Now that she knew, the presence around her weighed down on her shoulders and chest. The angles were shifting, changing every time she looked at a corner, and yet the room was the same. Her breathing quickened. She could feel her heart in her neck. And then she turned and ran through a door that hadn’t been there when she first looked at the wall, Marcus’s laughter echoing behind her.

Now that she knew about it, she couldn’t ignore the presence. It was in every room: every kitchen, every parlor, every hallway. It surrounded her, a looming feeling of something that was alive. There were no eyes to see or words to hear, but she felt it nonetheless, pressing down on her no matter where she ran.

The rooms began to blur together. More and more of them merged, creating odd shapes where walls overlapped. The furniture was all different, but quickly blurred together. And as she explored more and more of this strange, living place, she found that the furniture changed every time she turned her back. Sure, there was a bed in this room. But when she glanced away and back, it changed—a wooden frame instead of metal, blue sheets instead of yellow. The ovens from the kitchen changed models, and the sinks were a different design and age every time she looked at one.

There were no more windows. And she couldn’t hear the thunder anymore. She thought once again of being underground. Far away from the outside.

...No, that wasn’t exactly right. She wasn’t underground. She was deep inside something, and the more she walked, the deeper she went. And the feeling of that presence never ceased. Her back crawled with the feeling of being watched. She was inside something, going deeper into something, just as it wanted her to do. And now, her thoughts turned to being swallowed by some enormous creature.

Panic sank into her heart, causing it to beat rapidly in her chest. She tore through the rooms, pulling cushions off ever-shifting sofas and chairs. She opened every drawer and flung away the clothes she found inside, their texture changing every time she picked them up. She even tried to turn on any appliances she ran across, or use any sink or toilet that sprouted from the walls. None of them worked. And she found nothing.

Her fists hammered the walls, trying to find some weak spot in the wood or plaster or concrete. But they were all solid, even the spots where one material met another. The doors would not stay open. She tried to hold one by the handle and stare at it, but she blinked against her will, and her fist closed on empty air. The floors and walls were not level. They tilted at odd angles, and yet all the furniture stayed in place. The ceiling rose and lowered every time she went somewhere new. Like something huge was breathing.

She didn’t know how long she ran, but eventually, she stopped, breathing heavily, tasting metal in her mouth. Tears blurred her vision, and she leaned against one tilted wall to try and compose herself. Her attempts failed. Sobs tore at her throat. After everything she’d survived, was she going to die in here? Only five people would notice her disappearance. And only two would really care. They would have to grow up without her, wondering what happened to their mother.

“M-Mat...Lark...” Stacy cried. “I-I’m sorry...I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry, C—I-I’m sorry, I...” She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the oddly warm surface of the wall.

“Hello.”

That voice. Marcus. She didn’t open her eyes to look at him—it as the voice came from behind her.

“It’s so lovely to see you.”

All at once, an emotion rose in her throat, something which she couldn’t identify, but was hot and sharp and desperate. If she was going to die, it wouldn’t be in this fucking place. “Someone! Anyone! Help!” Her eyes flew open as she banged her fists against this wall. “Please! Anyone, help! Please! Is anyone here?!” She didn’t know who she was shouting at. Just that she wanted—needed something to come get her out of there. “P-please! Help! Heeeelp!”

Behind her, Marcus laughed. Stacy’s fists slowed, coming to rest against a wallpapered wall that was the same as any other wall in this place. She stared at the meaningless pattern for a few seconds as her breathing calmed. Then she gradually turned around to look at this...whatever it was.

“We expect people to reach that point a lot sooner,” Marcus said, smiling wide. “You’re a lot stronger than you look, Ms. Allen.”

“Shut...the fuck...up.” The words came out from behind clenched teeth. “You fucking—fucking—angler fish motherfucker.”

“Angler fish? Oh, you mean, like a lure?” Marcus shook its head. “I’m afraid you’re a bit off the mark there, Ms. Allen. I’m not part of it the way a light is part of an angler fish. But we share a...relationship. Something symbiotic. We wish for the same thing.”

“My death.”

“Not in the traditional sense. But you will no longer exist. It’s not so bad, to sleep in a cradle of nothingness. You may find it much better than your current state...of...” And then Marcus’s expression shifted into something Stacy hadn’t seen before: confusion. Genuine confusion, not whatever act it was putting on before. For a second, Stacy wondered what was so confusing about her. And then she realized it wasn’t looking at her, but instead, at something just over her shoulder.

There was something resting on her back.

Stacy stiffened. The something crept up, around her shoulder blade and onto her right shoulder. She glanced at it without turning her head, and saw something gray and shaped like a hand.

“What?” Marcus’s voice was low. “How? That—that should be impossible.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Stacy spun around to look behind her. And she caught a glimpse of something that she hadn’t seen in almost a year, but that she would never forget. It disappeared a second after her eyes landed on it, and revealed...a hallway. A straight, narrow corridor with wood-panel walls that had not been behind her before.

“Stacy,” Marcus said, his voice a growl of a threat. “Don’t you—”

But she was already gone, running down this new hallway. Behind her, she heard Marcus scream, a sound that was vaguely human but slightly off. Something heavy hit the ground. She didn’t turn to look.

Doors appeared on the walls of the hallway, each one flinging open before her as the corridor started to turn and shift. She dodged them seconds before she would run into their open surfaces. Another heavy thing hit the ground behind her, and the floor started to shift with the sound of wood groaning. The doors disappeared, and instead, more hallways started to branch off the main one, each as twisting as the last.

There was a whisper in her ear: “blue walls on the left. take it.”

And then she turned a corner and found herself at an intersection of four hallways, each one different. The one on the left had its walls covered in blue wallpaper. Stacy hesitated, then took it.

The new hall was straight for a few moments, but then came the shifting sound of a house creaking. And the floor started to slope. Gradually, but increasing until she was practically running uphill. And it kept getting steeper. She couldn’t keep her balance. The whisper came again, “grab the right-hand wall.”

Stacy kept running until she slipped, and then she flung herself to the right, hands slamming against the plaster—and grabbing onto an edge. She glanced to the side and noticed another hallway branching off of this one, with pale yellow-painted walls. Her grip tightened, and she pulled herself against the continuous tilting of the floor and into the yellow hallway.

The hall was sideways. She was standing on the right wall, with wooden floor to her left and plastered ceiling to her right. But the hall wasn’t moving, so she ran. Around her, the groaning of wood and metal and plaster echoed, growing louder and louder until it was almost deafening.

The walls and ceiling began to crack, spewing paint flakes and plaster dust. The floorboards pushed out, and she edged closer to the ceiling to avoid them hitting her. She could feel the wall beneath her feet growing weaker, her footsteps echoing against a hollow space behind it. The plaster creaked. But the groaning and shattering of the house wasn’t enough to block out the following whisper, “you can push through the ceiling here. turn now.”

Stacy hesitated, then turned and shoved herself against the plaster ceiling to her right. It broke easily, covering her in gritty white dust, and as she passed through she found herself in another hallway. This one had white walls, with the slightest brown tint, and at the far end...was a dark wooden door.

“run.”

She broke into a sprint. Behind her, she heard the sounds of disaster: breaking, cracking, shattering. She pushed herself harder. The hallway did not shrink. The door did not elude her, growing closer—closer—closer—

Her hand grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, and she barreled out into an overcast afternoon. She staggered, nearly falling down the few steps that led up to the house’s front door, then recovered and bolted. She didn’t stop until she was beyond the low brick wall and the iron gate. The moment she crossed over that threshold, she stopped, panting, and turned to look behind her.

The house looked the same as it had when she’d first seen it. But she could still feel that presence, like the house was watching her. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was angry. She didn’t stop to think about it, instead turning back around. Her car was parked on the edge of the driveway. Or, well, technically it wasn’t hers. It belonged to Mark and Amy. But she didn’t care. It was her way out.

Stacy looked down at herself. Somehow, she looked exactly the same as she had when she walked into that house. She wasn’t covered in that fine white dust, and she still had her purse. And inside the purse were the car keys. She dug them out and unlocked the car, ducking into the driver’s seat and closing it behind her.

The radio came on when she started the car. Some boring talk show, but she almost cried when she heard the hosts’ voices. She checked her phone, and found it wouldn’t turn on. Still out of battery. That was fine, she could drive back. She could go back.

She let out a sigh of relief, resting her head against the headrest and closing her eyes.

Finally.

...

There was something on her shoulder.

Her eyes flew open. Instinctively, she looked up at the car’s rear view mirror to see what was going on behind her. She saw her face. Her eyes were pure white, with black liquid flowing down her cheeks. 

And then she saw the hand on her shoulder. 

And then she saw its face.

Stacy screamed, sitting up straight and whirling around to look into the back seat. There was nothing there. But then...she looked back at the mirror. There was a handprint of thick gray dust on her right shoulder. And there were streams of black liquid coming from her eyes, though her eyes were their normal brown.

She reached up and wiped at her face, and her fingers came away covered in black liquid. She expected it to be viscous and foul-smelling, but it was the consistency of water, and smelled like nothing. She brushed at her shoulder, and some dust flew into the air, while more was smeared into the fabric of her shirt.

There was nothing in the mirror. No face but her own.

She wanted to get out of the car and run, but she had no other means of getting the hell away from this freaky house. The bus didn’t run all the way out here; she’d checked. So, she put the car in drive and headed out, constantly glancing at the mirror.

* * * * * * * * * * 

The clock on the car dashboard read 5:13 pm when she headed home. Stacy arrived back at Mark and Amy’s house at 6:09 pm. The time didn’t match up. She had definitely been in that house longer than just a few hours. But at this point, the difference didn’t phase her. Of course this supernatural entity would mess with time. Of course it would.

She slammed the car door behind her as she got out and half-ran up to the front door. It wasn’t locked, so she flung it open and hurried inside.

“Mom?” Mathew was in the living room, playing games on one of Mark’s consoles. He paused it and stood up. “Are...you okay?” he asked slowly.

“I-I-I’m...” Stacy breathed deeply, trying to compose herself. She probably looked like a mess. “I’m...fine. Now.”

“Did it, uh...not go well?” Mathew asked.

Stacy laughed. “No. No, it didn’t. But it’s okay now. I think I got out of it.”

Mathew looked confused. “Out of what?”

“Mom?” Larkin’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Are you home?”

“Yes, sweetie, I’m home.” Stacy stepped further into the house, looking around. “Are Mark and Amy here?”

“Yeah, I think they’re busy doing stuff,” Mathew said.

“Great.” Stacy sighed. “I’m going to have to ask Amy what website she got that job listing from. Maybe I can report it. Prevent anyone else from going up there.” 

“Did...uh...” Mathew paused, trying to find the words. “Did something weird happen? Like...you know, weird weird.”

Before Stacy could answer, Larkin appeared in the hallway entrance, followed shortly by one of the dogs. The golden retriever seemed happy enough, tail wagging up a storm, but the moment the dog saw Stacy, that tail stopped. A low growl rumbled through the air. And Larkin stopped, staring at Stacy with a horrified expression. “Mom, what’s wrong with your eyes?!”

“My eyes?!” Stacy instinctively touched her face, fingers resting on her eyelid. But of course, she didn’t feel anything wrong. “I don’t—hang on a second.” She started to go to the bathroom, intending to look into the mirror, but that would mean going past Larkin and the dog to get into the hallway, and the dog only growled louder when she approached. So she stopped. “What’s wrong with my eyes? Lark? Mat?”

Mathew shook his head. “I-I don’t see anything.”

“Your pupils are gone!” Larkin insisted. “And there’s—there’s black stuff under them!”

Stacy felt her heart stop. It was just like she’d seen in the car’s rear view mirror. “Lark, I-I think this is one of those things that only you can see,” she said slowly.

“So something weird did happen,” Mathew said, nodding once decisively.

“Yes,” Stacy said. “That house I went to. It was...it wasn’t an actual—”

Then Larkin screamed and pointed behind her. The dog started to bark. Stacy spun around, barely catching a glimpse of something shaped like a human before it disappeared. “It’s the ghost!” Larkin shouted. “The ghost from the house!”

She was afraid of that. But having her suspicions confirmed did nothing to alleviate the slowly dawning dread and fear.

“What?! I-I didn’t see it!” Mathew’s head darted around.

“It was here!” Larkin insisted.

“Well, I know that! But why?!” Mathew looked at Stacy. “Isn’t it—isn’t it supposed to be stuck in that house? Isn’t that why we left? A-and why everything else has been trying to get to us for it?”

“Yes, that’s exactly why,” Stacy said, her voice distant. “I don’t know what changed.”

But she had a suspicion. She remembered, again, the last time she’d seen John. That encounter with the glitchy, spasming thing that shifted its appearances between all of them. She remembered his pleading with it to leave them alone in exchange for doing whatever it wanted to him, and how it had accepted the offer.

She hadn’t made an offer. But she had called for help, called for anyone to come help her in that strange house. And something did come help her. Maybe...that help came with a price. What had Marcus said? What had it said once it dropped the facade? “It’s not often that someone who’s already claimed wanders in here without protection.”

These pieces were forming together to create a terrifying image in her mind, something that made her sick to think about.

“Is everything alright in here?” That question came from Mark, entering the living room from the hallway. “Hey, calm down, girl.” He bent over and started petting his dog, trying to get her to relax.

Behind him, Amy showed up as well. “Who screamed?”

“Amy!” Stacy shouted urgently. “Where did you find that job listing?!”

“That what?” Amy asked, blinking in surprise.

“The one you gave me! That I went to today. Where’d you find it? What website?”

“I...don’t know what you mean,” Amy said slowly. “I don’t think I gave you any job listing.”

“Yes you did!” Stacy insisted. “On Monday, you gave me the listing for this job. You said you printed it off online. Where?”

Amy shook her head, baffled. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never given you any job listings. Not from online, at least.”

“Why would you print it out?” Mark asked, confused.

“I didn’t!” Amy insisted. “Stacy. I know you were going to an interview today, but...I thought you found that yourself.”

“What?! No!” Stacy shook her head. “You definitely gave it to me! Monday, like I said. I was putting away the groceries, like I said, and you walked into the kitchen and asked me if I’d found a job yet. I said no, and you handed me the listing. I remember it clearly! Your hair was in a ponytail, a-and you were wearing a red jacket—” Then she stopped.

A red jacket.

A red jacket with the hood pulled up.

“I don’t...own any red jackets,” Amy said slowly. “Stacy, are you okay? You’re really pale all of a sudden.”

Had “Amy” ever looked her in the eyes that day? Had “she” ever given any details to indicate it was actually Amy speaking? Or...had that just been Stacy’s mind filling in the blanks? After all, if she was approached by something with long dark hair, while living in a house with someone who had long dark hair...wouldn’t she make assumptions?

Mathew reached the same conclusion shortly after Stacy. He gasped and looked around again, as if this mystery intruder was still inside the house. Larkin was a bit more confused. “What does Mom’s job have to do with what happened to her eyes?” he asked.

“That’s a very good question,” Mark said, still petting his dog to try and calm her. “It probably wasn’t all that it seemed, but still, wondering what can do that to your eyes.”

Stacy stiffened. Slowly, she turned to look at him. “Mark,” she said in a low voice. “How can you tell what happened to my eyes?”

Mark stopped petting the dog. For just a second, and then he started again. “Well I mean, I just guessed that something happened. Did they make you put on makeup?” He chuckled. Silently, Amy reached over and touched his shoulder. He glanced at her, and the two of them exchanged looks, having a whole silent conversation.

“I can’t see what’s going on with Mom’s eyes,” Mathew said, glaring at Mark. “Only Larkin can, and he’s special. How come you can?”

“Where did you say this job was, again?” Amy asked quickly.

“Somewhere out of town,” Stacy said, taking a cautious step backwards. “This big house—more like a mansion, really. Owned by this...this ‘guy’ who called himself Marcus—”

“Fuck,” Mark whispered. He stood up straight, and he and Amy exchanged more looks.

“You guys...” Stacy paused. “What do you know?”

And again, Mark and Amy looked at each other. As they did, Stacy felt...something. She could almost hear that whisper again, muttering something she couldn’t quite make out. If she had to guess what it said, it would be...“we are together now.”

“I think we should all sit down,” Mark said. “We need to have a talk.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye au #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #brigid writes fanfiction #horrorseptics

[fasterthanmydemons]

“They might take requests,” Mantis replied with a shrug. She wasn’t sure. Maybe she was mistaken. When she first approached them to ask them to perform for Pietro, they seemed friendly enough. “But if they don’t, they will.” She hoped the use of her powers wouldn’t be necessary, but birthdays were only once a year… were they not? She wasn’t sure about that either. Mantis wasn’t overly familiar with the traditions followed by humans, but that was okay as long as she got the gist of it.

When Pietro agreed to carry her piggyback, she beamed. “Really? You’re okay with it?” That made her really happy. Due to the way she was raised and the nature of her powers, Mantis needed a lot of space, figuratively and literally. When she touched someone, anyone, she was flooded with emotions and thoughts that weren’t her own. She needed time alone, with her own thoughts and feelings instead of everyone else’s. She often worried that it would come across as a lack of interest for her loved ones… but Pietro was understanding, which put her at ease.

A part of her still believed he would dislike her if he learned everything about her past, her father and her siblings. Being a protective, good brother was one of the most important things for Pietro, if not the most important. Mantis knew that, and she knew she had been too scared to do anything for her siblings as they met their untimely demise at the hands of Ego. In other words, she had been a bad sister, or at least that was how she saw it. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to have anything other than a courteous friendship with Pietro, which was not only fine, but also amazing. He and Wanda had been through so much pain, and Mantis was glad they trusted her with the whole Chthon situation. She loved knowing that she had been able to do some good on planet Earth. The Guardians were still busy ever since they bought Knowhere, but for now, Mantis allowed herself to enjoy Pietro’s company and willingness to share his speed with her, and she hoped she could make sure he and Wanda enjoyed their birthday in return. She effortlessly climbed onto his back. Mantis was light as a bug. She always felt so safe with Pietro, it was, paradoxically, terrifying. It was not something she was used to, and she had no idea what to do with the feeling or how to unravel it. She could use the adrenaline his super speed had to offer.

“This is exciting,” she remarked as she held onto him tightly yet carefully; wondering if the scars on Pietro’s back would cause him pain. She didn’t want to hurt him. “I can take the speed of light, spaceships reach it when it’s necessary, so… feel free to run as fast as you wish.” Mantis mentally reminded herself not to scream or cheer out of respect for Pietro’s eardrums. Her concern for his eardrums went out the window the moment he ran.

(Aww Silence you’re too sweet, thank you, but I don’t write the best Mantis by a long shot! 💚👽 What I like about rp/fanfiction is seeing people’s different interpretations of the same characters, but I’m glad you like mine! Shout-out to you as well for the dedication you put into your muses and being overall a kind and friendly mun! 💚)

__________

{ That’s very true, it is great to see how each writer interprets their character a little differently. That’s part of the fun of writing with multiples of canon characters, to see all the little nuances that their writers add to them. =) And awww thank you, but I am in fact a derpy potato masquerading as a functional human. Shh… it’s my secret, don’t tell anyone. XD Also… this is so random, but omg you remembered that Pietro has scars on his back. That hasn’t been mentioned in so long, and it always tickles me when my writing partners remember details about my muses like that. <3 }

Pietro chuckled, knowing exactly what Mantis was thinking of doing. “If they don’t, is okay. No need to make them do anything they don’t want to do. Just that they want to play for me is amazing enough. Imagine that… me. A big nobody compared to them. And they’re going to play for my birthday. It doesn’t make any sense but I guess they’re just nice like that,” he said with a shrug. In his eyes, he wasn’t anyone overly important. Not to the world, anyway. Bon Jovi, on the other hand, had been reaching and touching people with their music for many years. Pietro couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to have that kind of positive influence on people.

“Yeah, of course I’m okay with it,” Pietro said with a nod and a smile. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you get. Am happy to oblige.” He winked at her affectionately. After all Mantis had done to help Wanda through the terrifying and complicated business with Chthon, Pietro wanted to pay Mantis back, even if she only let him do it in small ways here and there. He’d keep his eyes and ears open for any chances she might give him to be affectionate, helpful, or to otherwise show her is appreciation.

He really didn’t mind that Mantis needed her space. Maybe that was because there had been plenty of times growing up when Wanda had needed space too. Sometimes she was very clingy with him, but other times she wanted to be left alone, and Pietro learned to not take any of that personally. It helped him to then later in life be more understanding of people like Mantis, rather than taking offense or assuming he was doing something wrong. He never wanted to make Mantis feel uncomfortable, or even worse than that, piss her off so badly that she would end up wanting nothing more to do with him. That would be terrible, so of course Pietro was going to tread carefully.

When she climbed onto his back, Pietro felt good about himself. He loved to help people and do things for them, and this was quite literally carrying someone. If made him feel useful and like he was making someone else’s life easier, which was something he truly enjoyed. He waited for her to grab on securely before nodding. “Okay, here we go!” he announced before taking off. Maybe she did make his ear drums work extra hard with her enthusiasm, but he couldn’t be even the slightest bit annoyed at her for it. She was having fun, and for this short moment, she was almost sharing his powers with him, which was something not too many people had done.

#{i just realized i have no idea where he's actually running to hahaha}

[octoagentmiles]

HEY BESTIES i just got my wisdom teeth removed from my face and I hurt very much but HERE'S THAT ANALYSIS I PROMISED:

The Puffin Colony

I feel like seasons 1-2 Peso would have been slightly afraid of the gaping puffin; and one reason why I love AnB is because of how well it shows how far Peso has come. In the sea snakes episode, Peso sounds the Octo-alert by himself for the first time, but he's very nervous, and he hesitates saying "Octonauts! To the HQ!" But here, he's 100% confident. It even seems he drove out to the island in the Gup-A all by himself.

Kwazii got excited and did his usual flip, and the puffins all ran away. He immediately assumes it's his fault, and starts apologizing; promising that he's good. Not like other pirates.

Not a moment later, we have Kwazii deciding he's going to scare the gull away to protect Peso and the egg. He's very confident he'll be able to do this.

Because pirates are scary, yes. This is his only argument—he's a pirate, so you better get lost, birdie. He almost looks confused when the gull simply flies away, more annoyed if anything.

Kwazii looks very proud of himself for tricking the gull, so I headcanon that the "pirate switcheroo" is something that Calico Jack taught him during their missions together.

Peso and the puffins come running down the hill, because they saw the gull fly into the rock. They didn't see Kwazii try to stop him. They call Kwazii a hero. They think he did it on purpose. Then there he goes again, apologizing and explaining himself; you can see the pure guilt in his eyes. He'd never want to hurt anyone, that's why he's an Octonaut—but now a creature has been hurt because of him.

Ah yes, the fiercest pirate in the seven seas.

One reason Kwazii might've offered to keep the egg warm was to get away from the puffins calling him a "hero," and to redeem himself. Prove that he really is good.

He looks so sad,,, he was so happy just a second ago when he felt the egg crack, but now he's stuck back where he was in the beginning where the puffins think he's a threat; and of course we know why he thinks that is.

Man, Kwazii's not having a good day, is he?

At least the end of the episode is super cute. [the newborn puffling does a backflip and says "Yeow!" all happily.] That baby doesn't know pirates are supposed to be scary, they just like Kwazii. *sobbing* that's so nice— (and possibly an interesting example of how hate is taught.)

#i s i t a n g s t i f i t ' s c a n o n ? #tumblr let me have more than 10 images challenge #octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #kwazii #miles watches anb #im in pain <3 #my parents: you'll feel so much better when it's done! #my face: I'm gonna do what's called a pro gamer move #anyway next up will either be the Bamboo Rescue or the tiger one- I forget what it's called #this is my longest ep analysis post yet lol #trans kwazii is a headcanon if anyone doesn't know what that's about btw #and shout out to everyone to reminded me to do this xD

[moonlit-imagines]

Slipping Away

Jason Todd x reader

warnings: shot description of jason’s face industries

a/n: no this is not an oc idea im basing this off of not at all nope nah nope. (it might be. okay it is. it’s titans!leila but more emotional and less angry)

prompt: @captainshazamerica: “Aihosvakvsi Lacey I'm so sorry, I'm a dumbass cause I swear i read the pinned post and re read the rules but apparently I cant read😅😅😅🤦🏻‍♀️okay, SO xD Can I have a oneshot of being the close younger sibling of Titans Jason Todd and seeing him go through, you know, everything(😅)(like current red hood arc) and reader being real conflicted cause she is super close with jason and hates seeing him go through this but obviously doesnt approve. and with hurt/comfort if possible?(and/or angst with a hapoy/fluff ending?) Thanks so much! Hope you are having a good week!”

Now that everyone was back in Gotham, it was officially time to get to the bottom of this mess. Wayne Manor was bleak—er than usual. And it all started when Jason, the boy that was practically your brother by now, was brutally murdered by your father’s arch nemesis. A hell of a way to go, and not one unfamiliar to the citizens of Gotham City.

You were struggling during this whole mess and things only seemed to get more difficult. More heart-wrenching and sick. Every breath you took set off another cruel, confusing event for you and your family, both Bat and Titan, to investigate and take care of.

And it all started because you weren’t there. Just a night off so you could enjoy your city for what it was instead of lurking on rooftops and stalking potential troublemakers. Jason needed space, you needed fresh air. Perfect trade off. “Call me if you need anything, Jay. I mean it.” You told him while gathering your things near the exit of the garage, about to pick one of many keys belonging to one of many cars.

“I probably won’t. Benched, remember?” Jason gave you a passive-aggressive reminder of his current stance with Bruce and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on, y/n. It’s not fair! You’re still allowed to go out in a suit and throw bad guys in jail!”

“He’ll come around eventually.” You patted Jason on the shoulder. “Bruce is just…he’s weird. I mean, he dresses like a bat to fight crime, you know he has problems.” You chuckled to yourself, but your brother was not in the mood. “Listen, Jason. You haven’t been yourself in a while, he’s just looking out for you.”

“Bullshit!” Jason threw your arm away from his shoulder and backed up, causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise. “You and Dick never get scolded like I do. I got sent away to San Francisco because I needed to be ‘corrected.’ And it was the worst mistake of my life.” He shouted at you and you began to walk away. “You don’t want to admit it, but Bruce hates me and loves you!” His voice echoed through the garage.

“Have it your way, Jason.” You waved him off and stepped into your chosen vehicle. Just before you slammed the door, you spoke your last words to him. “I really hope you stop focusing on Robin and start focusing on yourself or else you’re gonna end up dead.”

It wasn’t until later that night you’d regret those words, the moment you got a news alert from your phone just after parking your car. The headline: Joker’s Last Laugh: Clown Surrenders After Bludgeoning Batman’s Sidekick Robin. You read the title over and over until your phone began to ring, it was Barbara Gordon herself. You knew what was coming and you burst into tears just before answering the phone.

“Y/N? Y/N…you heard already.” She heard you crying to the point where you could barely speak. “He’s here, and Bruce is going to be here soon. Come to GCPD, I’m here for you.” Barbara assured and you hummed an “okay” before hanging up and hyperventilating behind the wheel. Your mind was just racing with questions.

Why did he do this? Why didn’t he call you? How did it happen? Why did the Joker surrender? Should you pay a visit to Arkham? Should you call Dick?

“Dick…” You mumbled, sniffling thickly and lifting up your phone to call him. But you hesitated. You couldn’t bare to talk to anyone else about this right now and threw your phone aside. “Later.” While still shaking from pure shock, you started your car and drove to GCPD. By the time you got there Bruce had just landed, so it was just you and Babs. You silently walked down the hall to the morgue, arms crossed and hands squeezing them to the point of bruising. You weren’t ready to see him, but you couldn’t refrain. The coroner unzipped the bag slowly, making seconds feel like hours. Barbara reached out for your hand and grasped it tightly as you laid eyes on him and gasped.

“I know, I know.” She whispered to you as you broke down once again. “We have Joker, we’re gonna make him pay.”

“Pay?” You took your hand away. “He’s never going to pay! It’s the same story over and over! He murders, you throw him in Arkham, he schemes, breaks out, and murders again!” You snapped at her in the coroner’s company. Barbara peered over at him awkwardly.

“Could you give us a minute, Eddie?” She requested and he nodded, promptly exiting the uncomfortable scene and shutting the door behind him. “Y/N, it’s really all that we can do. He’s clinically insane, practically untouchable by the law. And Bruce…he wouldn’t…”

“But I would.” You stared at Jason’s broken face, exposed skull. “I was taught to do so, maybe I should.” Barbara took you by the hand again, much more aggressively.

“You aren’t an assassin anymore, y/n. Do not stoop back down to your mother’s level.” She warned and you looked back over to Jason, knowing what he would have wanted. Just before you could say anything, the door swung open. “Bruce…”

“Dad.” You gulped and he said nothing, just walked forward and stared at Jason. Your brother, his son, Gotham’s Robin. “Dad, I’m sorry. I don’t know why he didn’t call me, I would have stopped him. I’m sorry.” You began to beg for forgiveness, but he was in no mood to speak to you or anyone else, for that matter. Growing frustrated, you stormed out of the room and decided it was time to call Dick. You were shaking again, missing the right buttons on your phone. Once it started ringing, you didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up?” Dick answered.

“You haven’t seen the news yet.” You observed out loud.

“What? What do you mean.” He waited for you to respond during a long pause. “Y/N?”

“Jason—” You thought you’d make it through the sentence, but even speaking his name felt like you failed him. “Jason’s dead.” The line went silent. “It was Joker. I don’t know what happened, we’re at the morgue right now, Bruce just landed half an hour ago. I don’t think he’s okay. Dick, please come home.” You began begging another quiet family member and heard him start shuffling around.

“I’m on my way.”

—————

The funeral happened before Dick even got home. Bruce was more distant than usual. You felt alone.

One thing after another, Bruce lost his mind. You woke up to one more person missing from their bed and Dick, he had to call in the Titans.

You were both relieved and furious that the Joker was dead. You’d been a killer before, you could have done it again for the right reasons. But your father, he was off the deep end and now missing. You should have been the one to do it. Just another thing to blame yourself for. So you decided to sit out on the Bat thing, just for the night. You had backup, so it gave you time to recuperate.

But that just wasn’t the end of it, because when the Titans came back from their night of wonders, Dick had to pull you aside and tell you disturbing news.

“Y/N, hey, sit down with me for a second.” Dick asked you, pulling out one of the Batcave chairs while the other Titans stood nearby, waiting for your reaction. “Tonight we ran into another Red Hood terrorizing Gotham.”

“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself in the seat, “what about him? Joker sparked another comeback?” You turned around to see all of your colleagues intently staring.

“Something like that.” Dick sighed and kneeled down in front of you. “It was Jason. He’s alive.”

“No, he’s not.” You quickly replied. “He’s not, I saw his body. Bruce buried him. He’s gone.” You began to panic inside.

“Did you see Bruce bury him. Did you see him in the casket?” Dick questioned and you just stared at him with watering eyes and a quivering lip. He nodded and opened his arms. “Come here.” You fell into them and began sobbing once more. You felt so weak and tired from the amount you cried, but you’d never experienced such a devastating loss. You didn’t know how to cope losing a brother, one so close to you. You couldn’t process his death, let alone coming back. Dick rubbed your back for a moment and assured you, “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Y/N, come on,” Kory softly said with her hand on your shoulder, “let’s go back upstairs. All of us. After tonight, we all need some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.” You wiped your tears on your sleeve and agreed, feeling all eyes on you as you left the cave with her. “You okay?”

“Not really.” You laughed. “Not everyday your brother dies, your dad becomes a murderer and disappears, and your brother comes back as a terrorist.”

“Yeah, you Bats never seem to get a break.” She wrapped her arm around your should. “But the Titans are here for you one hundred percent. Anything you need.”

“Thanks, Kory.”

—————

Dick knocked on your door first thing the next morning, slowly letting himself in. “Hey, Gar’s making breakfast for everyone. You okay to come down?” He asked while walking to your bed. “As soon as we finish we can start looking into the Jason thing, okay? Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.” You laid on your pillow and looked up at him. “And I doubt you did, either.” Dick sort of smiled at that, but before he could think of something to say, there was a large crash in the kitchen and a series of overlapping shouting.

“It’s fine, I got it!” Conner yelled and you assumed everything was cleaned up in a moment’s time. It actually got you to smile.

“Okay, I’ll have breakfast with you.” You pushed the covers off of yourself and walked with your brother through Wayne Manor, although it didn’t feel much like Wayne Manor anymore. It was much brighter with the Titans roaming the halls.

“Y/N, Dick told me what your favorite was!” Gar held up a plate of breakfast foods and smiled widely, exposing what sort of looked like fangs. “Still hot.”

“Thanks, Gar.” You smiled weakly back and took the plate, sitting with the rest of the Titans who tried their best not to stare at you, but they were worried. They really were, but they let you eat in peace while having light conversations around you. There was something about their presence that calmed you, there was less tiptoeing around the Manor, especially since Alfred passed. You continued clearing your plate and your spot and walked down to the Batcave without another word.

“Are they okay?” Conner asked Dick and everyone looked over at him, who knew you best. Dick gave them a very forced smirk and nodded.

“They will be. They just need some time to process this.” Dick began to clean his own spot at the table, too. “I know y/n’s had their fair share of loss, but their grieving process…it was tattered when they lived with their mom and grandfather.” He explained, piquing the Titans interest. They knew you, had fought alongside you, but you still chose to keep some things to yourself.

“Are their mother and grandfather people we would know of?” Gar inquired.

“Ever hear of the League of Assassins?” Dick answered his question with another and Gar’s jaw fell a bit. Dick then made his way to the cave to meet you, with the rest of his team following loosely behind. They found you replaying the security footage from the Titan’s encounter last night, trying your best to zoom in on Red Hood and evaluate his movements.

“How is he back?” Conner asked the big question. “I mean, y/n, you saw him, right? After the…the Joker.” You didn’t look away from the replay, but answered him honestly.

“His face was bashed in. Bone exposed. Brain, too. But his face here, I mean, it isn’t much to go off of, but I don’t see any cavities in his facial structure at all. He…looks…fine.” As you explained it to them, you began to realize just what you were saying. The other Titans thought you were beginning to lose your grip again and backed away, but you were trying to evaluate just how possible your idea was. “Fuck!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the computer and rushing up the stairs. Everyone jumped as a reaction and a few followed suit.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, are you okay? Talk to us!” Kory tried to console you, but no one knew why exactly you had began this little rampage. Once you got to your room, you crawled underneath your bed to pull out a large case full of some al Ghūl heirlooms. Among those were weapons, robes, and several papers, scrolls, maps. One map contained locations of known Lazarus Pits in the United States, “just in case you need it,” Ra’s said to you some time ago.

“What is that? A map of what? I can’t read Arabic.” Dick looked over your shoulder, analyzing the map as best as he could.

“Lazarus.” You whispered and Dick’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t really think that’s what this is, do you?” Dick asked you, hand on your shoulder as the others stared in confusion.

“Dad told me to check all these locations a while ago, but I never got around to it. I didn’t think I’d need to. But it makes sense, Dick. Everything about it does.” You explained to him, along with the rest of the team.

“Meaning?” Gar chimed in hoping to get something more from this, but the only person in this room who knew the full effects of the Put was you, and you were now terrified.

“It’s worse than we thought.” You shoved the case back under your bed and ran back to the cave, leaving everyone with a very disturbing sort of idea in their heads as they tried to understand what you meant. You began to cross reference the map locations with the morgue and quickly found your answer. The Titans and you learned of a Pit below GCPD.

“Can you please explain to us what exactly this Pit does and why it’s so worrying?” Kory requested and you felt your chest begin to grow tighter. It pained you to know that Jason was out there alone somewhere with the effects of Lazarus.

“My…My mom’s side of the family—specifically my grandfather—had found Lazarus pits some years ago. Their like enchanted pools, he used them to keep himself young because they have these certain healing properties.” You nervously explained, uncovering some unsavory memories. “The only thing is that there are side effects to them. It messes with your mind, and the more serious the injury…the worse the effect is…and…”

“You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to, y/n. It’s okay.” Dick tried to stop you, but you wanted to be more open with the team. The Titans were on the edge of their seats.

“No, it’s okay. I need them to know how dangerous this situation is.” You assured him and continued. “My grandfather kept himself alive for centuries with them, but each time he came out, he seemed to lose it for a bit. And I…I had used it once. There was a traitor among our ranks when I was much younger. He, uh, he stabbed me through the chest and my mother threw me into the Pit. It was a feeling I’ll never forget, and my mind…I wasn’t ready for it. For weeks I was extremely unstable and the psychological turmoil haunts me to this day.” You finished your story and saw pity in their eyes, making you wish that the story wasn’t even true.

“You only described injuries, though. Have you ever seen someone get resurrected?” Conner asked and you tensed up.

“No, but it’s not impossible. That’s what worries me,” you looked back at images of the new Jason, “who knows how messed up his brain is of he was healed from death.”

—————

Days went by and tragedy struck again and again, all by the fault of Jason Todd. But the thing is that you didn’t really believe it was Jason in there. It was Lazarus, or Scarecrow, the drugs, something else. It was not Jason. You and Gar had agreed on that much and he became a shoulder to lean on, but the others weren’t as patient with him. They needed to take him down.

“No, you guys don’t understand. He doesn’t need to be brought down, he needs help.” You pleaded with the team, trying your best to get them to see that he was still one of you, but the death of Hank shook their faith too hard.

“Y/N, he’s dangerous. I know you love him, we all did. But that’s not Jason anymore.” Kory approached with a soft voice and tried to get you to see things their way, but you saw things Jason’s way. What he was doing was wrong, but he could still be saved from it. He’d never be the same, but you’d do anything to help him. You’d want them to do the same.

“I refuse to give up on him.” You pushed her hands off of you and stormed down to the Batcave taking off on one of your motorcycles. Fortunately, you’d kept a secret from the rest of your team. Jason’s tracker was still online, you’d realized that a few days ago and had been keeping tabs on Jason and Crane, spotting them on warehouse cameras and such. The only problem is that the signal could sometimes be blocked. But it was a start, and right now, it seemed that Jason was alone.

“Y/N? Where are you going?” Gar said over your comms.

“I’m taking care of shit.” You answered and turned your earpiece off before peeling out and searching for your brother. He was just walking the street when you found him, completely alone and seemingly upset. You pulled up beside him and flipped your helmet up. “Jason?” You asked and he continued walking, so you walked your bike alongside him. “Jason? Can you hear me?”

“Go away.” He growled, shoving his hands in his pockets. You sighed and hopped off the motorcycle, turning on its security measures and catching up to your brother. “I said go away. I don’t want any more trouble.”

“I know you don’t.” You stopped in front of him and tried to look him in the eyes, they told a story. Bloodshot, dark circles, pupils normal. The effects of the Lazarus Pit had worn off, but he was exhausted. “I don’t want any trouble either. I just want my brother back.”

“You can’t, he’s gone.” He nearly got lost walking through a crowd of people, but you wouldn’t let him get away that easily. He veered off into a parking garage and you ran in with him.

“I know what you’ve been through.” You called after him, hearing your voice echo. “But I can’t talk to you here.”

“Then don’t.” He bluntly replied. You grabbed him by the arm and he willfully stopped.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You asked him and he stayed silent, looking away from your eyes. “Come on, we can go get some fast food and go to my apartment in the city. No one else knows about it.” Your hand trailed down his arms to his own hand. “You’re still my brother. I don’t like what you’ve done, but I know what led you to do it.” You began to walk and he walked beside you, letting you lead him down the street and back to your motorcycle. After about fifteen minutes, you’d obtained two bags full of food. Burgers, fries, drinks, and such, whatever he wanted, you could tell he was starving. It was a hassle being able to hold it tight on the bike, but you guys were pretty resourceful.

“The others are mad at me, aren’t they?” Jason asked you as you parked your bike and grabbed your share of the food. You sighed and grabbed the keys from your pocket.

“Some of them are. But I think they’re just really worried about you and the path you’re going down.” There was a long period of silence between the ground floor and your apartment on the fourth. You let him into the cozy little “safehouse” you’d made for yourself to get out of the Manor. “I know it was the Lazarus Pit.”

“I figured. Takes one to know one.” He sat down at the barstool near your kitchen and ripped into the bag, starting to eat his food like an animal.

“What I don’t get is why you turned to Crane in the first place.” You explained to him, sitting by his side. “He gave you drugs and marketed them as an out and you took the bait. You’re a Robin, what made you think that was a good idea?”

“I was a Robin.” He corrected quickly. “And I needed…I needed something. Something that was going to stop the nightmares, the flashbacks. I needed to get away from what was left of SF.”

“You needed help, Jason. You could have come to me.” You reminded him without cornering him. “And Scarecrow, he’s manipulative, you knew that when you went to him. That led you to become a terrorist, a murderer. That’s never going to go away.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Jason grabbed his drink, giving you an antagonist little look and seemed to be reverting to his former self. It gave you a bit of relief to see him in a better mood.

“You know how my grandfather treated me.” You answered with a hint of regret in your voice as you remembered your time with the League. “I was a weapon to him, nothing more. When Bruce found out the truth he rescued me from them. If I remember correctly, Bruce saved you from a rough situation, too.”

“You’re still a weapon.” He reminded you. “And he left me in the dust. I died, y/n. Where did Bruce go? I don’t see him here now.” Jason began to get irritated.

“Bruce snapped and murdered the Joker. No one knows where the hell he is right now.” You revealed and Jason’s face dropped.

“That was Bruce?” You watched Jason look away from you and stare off for a moment, looking at all the decor in your apartment. Pictures of you and your family on the walls, little decorations and hidden weapons only he could spot from a mile away. “What did the others do?”

“Forgot about him. He’s a grown man with a lit of problems that are too late to solve. No one knows how to help him.” Your voice wavered as you wondered if you’d ever see your dad again. “You’re still worth fighting for. And I know what you felt being thrown into that Pit. Being resurrected is traumatic.”

“When do the nightmares go away?” Jason asked you about your own experiences.

“A couple weeks.” You assured. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, sure,” he whispered, “can I take a shower?”

taglist: @volturi-stuff // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @brutal-out-here // @jinxll11 // @swanimagines // @captainshazamerica // @greek-mythographer // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @summersimmerus // @glxwingrxse //

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x batbro!reader #jason todd x batsis!reader #jason todd x sibling!reader #jason todd x batkid!reader #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #titans #titans imagine #titans x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #batkid!imagine #batkid!reader #batsis!reader #batbro!reader #al ghul!reader #wayne!reader

[dinuhsoar]

not your yellow

― mafia!Chris Evans x f!reader

Synopsis: Chris Evans messed up. Real bad.

Warnings: shit writing lmao, gif doesn't match imagine, pretty angsty/ish ig, crying, idk what else, language, cheating, I did not read over this so there might be typos

*please read all warnings before you continue*

Cali's message: Someone really messaged me and asked me how do I write good angst. Like, idk I just cry and write at the same time lmao. Anyways, this is for @moonlight-onyx and her writing challenge for 1.2k followers. This is really angsty, so please grab some tissues or a shirt or whatever to wipe your nose and eyes after reading this. If you don't cry the first time reading this, listen to a very very sad song (not drivers license). And if you still haven't cried, force it :) or else. Imma leave a song or two at the bottom of this post. Also, I didn't really mention the mafia part, but just go with it XD

Prompt: #4, "what happened to us?"

Gif credit: @treatmelikesugar

Chris sat on your shared bed, his leg bouncing. His fingers were in his mouth, nervously biting at the barely there nail. He messed up bad. You were currently . . . somewhere. You wouldn't tell Chris where you went, where you were headed, what you were doing.

And that scared him. But it was a day later when he was really scared: not for you but for himself.

You knocked on your shared house door, your key somewhere but not with you. It doesn't matter anymore, you wouldn't be needing it. You had tears in your eyes, you hair everywhere.

Chris knew it was you. He always knew. So he opened it in a matter of seconds, and you swore he flew downstairs because not even you could go down your stairs that fast. It made you want to laugh.

But you didn't. It would hurt to much, more than likely rattling the pieces of your broken heart even more.

Chris' eyes lit up when he saw you. And he swore you were most pretty like that: teary-eyed, swollen lips, hair like a lion's mane. If only he could tell you that. If only.

Chris stepped aside, smiling like an idiot at you. "Hi."

And you walked in, and past him, to your shared bedroom, and threw yourself on the bed, immediately grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. All the anger and frustration seeping into the fabric like your tears.

All Chris could do was listen. He sat in the hallway, just right outside the door. And if he looked into the room, he could see you sob and sob some more, whispering words only you were capable of hearing.

It pained him. It pained you.

You both were longing each other's touch. But you couldn't give it to each other. Not now. Not ever.

"So stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" You shouted out, hands balling into fists. And you repeadly hit yourself like this. You wanted to feel something that could override the pain Chris caused you. But it wasn't working.

"Such a fucking idiot! Why am I so blind to men like you!?" And Chris broke down there and then. You were the smartest girl on plant earth, maybe even in the whole galaxy. So he stood up and walked in, standing by the foot of the bed.

If this was his weak attempt to make you feel better, it didn't. You saw his dad socks and cried some more. "What do you want from me?! Is cheating on me not enough?!"

And it wasn't the fact that he cheated. You told him how everyone of your ex's cheated on you. He said he would never. Said he would never cheat on you, that you were 'the one' and 'his only.'

Newsflash. He lied.

Chris could only wince at the reminder of what he did. He doesn't need a reminder, he'll always remember. "I- you're not dumb okay? And you're not stupid either." Chris sat on the bed, grabbing the pillow that you so desperately abused with your feelings. In response, you covered your face with your hands.

"I'm the stupid one okay? I love you, (y/n)!"

"God, Chris, what happened to us, hm? At first I didn't want to believe this, believe us, because, let's be honest, who could love this?" You stood up off the bed, motioning to yourself. "Most certainly not you since you cheated on me!" You glanced at him, the shock and sadness on his face quite clear. You wondered what yours looked like.

Chris would say it's beautiful.

You moved to your closet, grabbing most of your clothes and shoved them into a suitcase. Chris tried to stop you, shouting at you to stop and to not, 'leave him like this.' But if Chris can break your heart, you might as well break his.

"I don't care why you cheated on me, I don't want an explanation. Just know that you've fucked up big time, Chris. And that if you notice one of your shirts missing, I took it; a part of me thinks this is still a dream and that one day I'll wake up with a fully healed hart, hopefully healed by you."

And you left. And he cried in the same pillow you did, his gut hurting as he let his emotions lose.

You haven't even reached the door yet when you heard things breaking. And when you reached the door, the last thing you heard was, "Y/n, please come back! It hurts too much!"

And god how it took everything in you to not turn around.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans angst #writing #honiebee #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x f!reader #mob!chris evans #mafia!au #mafia!chris evans #angst #so much angst #and for what lol #im not crying you are #shut up #brb gonna go cry #happy 1.2k hun #listened to like 1794377 sad songs just to get an idea on what to write #like #why is this a thing #shit writing #enjoy #fanfiction #please be gentle #fem reader #idk what to do #chris evans and his characters #angst angst angst angst #1.2ksummerbummer