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asphodelia-nx-04 · 2 years

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Property of Rachel Elliot Hale (Hideous Destructor)

If you’re reading this PDA, then one of two things has happened.

Either, I’m dead, and you looted this off me, Or I’ve gotten to the source of whatever the fuck AGM is doing, and I’m famous.

...After what I’ve seen so far, I’m starting to hope to Christ it’s the first.

Oh! That reminds me! I’m boobytrapped with 5 M67 fragmentation grenades on a deadman’s switch!~ I would start running if you’re still reading this!

Log0001.UMF File created, 04/19/2108, 12:27:32 PM

So, a recap. About 17 days and 19 hours ago, all hell broke loose from the various AGM genetics facilities worldwide. I will presume you’re already familiar with the monopolistic and hedonistic mega-corporation conglomerate, because if you aren’t, you have much, much worse things to worry about now than whatever the hell you did before.

Heh. Hell. We’ll get to THAT shortly.~

Mind some of the photos, by the way. My glasses are linked with my PDA and I take photos of shit I see with them.

If you’re not from around here, well, let me be the first to welcome you to Oklahoma! Let me also be the first to say, assuming you’ve survived my deadman’s switch, to please grab any firearms and ammunition still on my body and arm yourself to the teeth. Because now, AGM’s research has gone positively apeshit, to put it professionally, and all kinds of disgusting flesh abominations have started pouring through various portals, vats, reactors, and just about anything else that AGM, or their parent company, the UAC, has manufactured, and as you can see by reading this, I didn’t stop them.

Why? I don’t know. I’m just a fuckin’ engineer, man! I fix Pepsi machines and fluorescent lighting for a living, I don’t know shit about genetics. I do, however, know a lot about firearms, which is why I’m very glad to finally get my hands on some of our PMC’s hardware.

To the potential reader who has been in a coma for an extended period of time, and is likely gasping in shock if their coma was for 60 years, or rolling their eyes were it only 25 or so, yes, of course the giant mega-corp has a PMC, every “company” has a PMC now, because they’re all owned by the UAC. EVERYONE is the UAC.

Well, probably not *you*, but I am! And I hate it!!

Either way, AGM’s the genetics branch of the UAC, and they’ve been doing damn near *EVERYTHING*. Stimulants? Yep. Cyborgs? Absolutely. Genetic splicing? You bet. Cloning? Of course. Livable wages and benefits? ...Hah. As fucking if.

I was getting dressed for work, when the power goes out in my apartment. At first, I just kinda shrugged it off and assumed my account got charged by AGM for some stupid shit last minute, and didn’t have enough funds to pay my electric bill.

Then uh, then the building across from me goes out. And the ones next to it. And the ones next to them. And then the street posts. One by one I see and hear EVERYTHING go out. It’s pitch black, and after prying my self out of my sliding door I drive to work in the resulting chaos. At least, I wanted to, but all kinds of disgusting flesh monsters start pouring out into the streets, ripping out through the storm drains, sewers, and god knows where else. Everything was fine at first, but on my way to work, I’d see more and more weird stuff going on. Especially with those giant pink snakes sliding around. Hooooooboy, I’ll get to THOSE annoying little fuckers soon. On my way to the usual checkpoint, I’m greeted by two guards pointing their rifles at me. They’re not like the usual ones, either. I know those guys! If they’re still alive, don’t tell them I said this, but if they’re dead, they’re both assholes and owe me money.

Anyways, no, these guys look the same. Bald, slouching, one of em’s even shirtless. He’s barely even holding his gun right! That’s the giveaway, that he’s one of those weird “Blank” projects I keep hearing about. Blanks are what the guys and I call the new security guards that AGM has started replacing guys like Andy and Jake with. They’re notorious for aggression, being completely nonverbal besides some dull groans, and their weird exoskeletons and tubing. Which is why...

I tried to talk him down at first, but once he sprayed six rounds of 4.26mm past my legs (thank God these things can’t aim for shit.) I reached for my gun. After that, it was a very short conversation.

...God I’m so cool~

Blanks are problematic by nature, which is why most staff are issued a firearm in the first place. Rarely do you get anything standard though, it’s literally just whatever the hell they have lying around. In my case, it was a heavily used 9mm USP. Which is fine by me, I love this damn thing. Blanks are great for keeping civvies (not that anyone really works for a job that doesn’t ultimately benefit the UAC, of course.) out, but they frequently go haywire (Turns out the human brain doesn’t like being reduced to pure chemicals, wires, and exoskeletons controlled by radio waves!) which is why we get a gun, and some decent hazard pay. That is, when AGM decides to actually fucking pay us.

In any case, I look on his body to find any information, an instead I just find his pockets contain three stimpacks, 19 loose 9mm rounds, and three 4.26mm magazines for the G36C he dropped. (I always wanted one of these!~) Regulations say I’m not allowed to keep anything I find on a “Blank,” and the punishments I’d face for doing so are worse than termination. I’ll just say, the company will be taking much more than my job, and my wages.

That said, as I make my way through the checkpoint I find more blanks, and a sentry turret. The turrets are the most stable, reliable thing here if you could believe some shit like that. I would know, I’m the one who works on them! So if something goes wrong, it’s my ass on the line, you can sure as hell bet I’m doing a good job with them. Which is all the more reason why I was extremely unhappy by it firing like 30 rounds in 3 seconds at me, before I dived out of the way. I’m not even mad that it shot at me, I’m way more mad that it fucking missed! Are you kidding me!? Do you know how hard it is to get those barrels to swivel correctly on that stupid ass floor tripod? The gyroscope’s a diva that takes FOREVER to line up with a target, and the motor takes so long to spin up, that anyone else can just pick the thing up and take it home if they wanted to! After flipping the off switch, of course.

Besides, I made all sorts of modifications to this one to make it react faster, shoot even faster, and aim better. And it fucking missed every shot!! Are you kidding me!? Yes, I am mad about my personal project sentry gun not ripping my torso to shreds with high caliber caseless armor piercing rounds, thank you for asking!! >:(

I shoot it right in the battery, causing it to explode. The noise attracts a Blank from around the corner, and as he mindlessly trudges towards me, spewing his bullets in every direction, I liberate his kneecaps, and when he falls...I saw. It. Whatever it was. Body like a human, tail like a snake, and a head unlike anything I’ve ever seen. As I mouthed my disbelief at it, it’s hands catch on fire. No, seriously. I’m not kidding. I caught a pic of it to prove it!

Seriously!

Of course I put this horrid thing down. It’s like, a huge ass cobra-man. I’m gonna call them Snakedudes! Anyways, I put him down, and go to the checkpoint door. It accepts my override, and I walk along like it’s nothing. Going through the second checkpoint, I find it’s just...empty. Completely. Devoid of life, save for the groaning and hissing outside the walls. I open the door, and I quickly piss off like an entire army of blanks, and snakedudes. Ducking my head behind the door as it slides back down, I reload my weapons as I hear them shambling closer towards me. A cacophony of growls ring out as that door slowly opens, and I blindfire that rifle I took from the other ones. I hear lots of groaning as they fall over, and I peek out to take potshots with my pistol at the ones still kicking.

One firefight later, and the facility’s blank and snake free. I walk over to the entrance to the main elevator down into the facility, and I’m greeted with...

This.

This wasn’t me. It was like that when I got there. The trail of footprints lead inside, and judging by the smell and the buzzing of flies, they’ve been like this for a while. So then, if those blanks are there, why the hell were the ones in front of me unharmed? Either something tried to get out and got stopped, or something got in and these things I had to shoot replaced them.

Neither make any sense what the hell so ever, but there’s little I can do wondering about it. I walk over to the sign and take a second to catch my breath, and fill my lungs with what little “fresh” (if you could call this smoggy, tan sky “fresh” air by any definition) air I can, before loading my pistol, and stepping through into what may be hell. I pick up a neato MP7A2 off one of the many bodies, and check it. It’s like, 20 or so rounds. I’m not gonna stick around in corpse-stink and count each fuckin’ one! It’s enough to blow into a monster charging at me, and that’s all I need!

Down I go, light after light trickling past me, as I descend into darkness. The familiar smoggy air and its welcoming scent leaves as the elevator falls, and instead, I smell the rusty, chem-heavy stench of AGM’s inner facilities. Every long shift fills your nose with what I can only describe as molded bottom of the barrel coffee mixed with engine cleaner, rust, and fryer grease all in one. Fun. The lift stops, and the doors open to the receiving area. Those big, ugly letters face me again, just like the years and years of normal work before.

Course, this’ll be the last time I ever see this room again, I hope.

...God I wish I brought an air freshener.

#Hideous Destructor #tw blood #tw gore #incredibly pretentious writing project #doom

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alyosiuscreightonward · 6 months

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I’m absolutely flummoxed. I’ve had a thing for Tauren men, however the empath streak in me sees beyond the obvious.

Anyway, I’ve a Foster son who hates me and wants me dead and he truly wishes that I was never in his life.

The sidewalk talks. Rumor? Innuendo? Falsehoods? Urban legends? Conspiracy theories? From what I’ve heard, someone is saying shit.

ALLEGEDLY and I mean ALLEGEDLY ever since he moved out West, he’s been an absolute mess. Exxon Valdez, Event Horizon, Ukraine and The Gaza Strip are just tragic comic events that Mitzi Shore may have produced at the legendary Comedy Store.

I am of the belief that it started to go down the shitter was when I had abandoned him in 1994 when I thought I had someone who would love me forever and put me on a pedestal. Child please. I was delusional. I was thinking that I was going to be able to live like the pages of a Barbara Cartland or Rosemary Rogers novel. You feel the Harlequin Romance novels? I was delusional.

I’m going to leave out some things and bring you up to date with the things that MAY have happened to him and ALLEGEDLY have been perpetrated against him. Since he was just a Victim of Circumstance. Like this story: Standing there in the rain in the middle of the night waiting for the last bus to arrive and take him across town as he was in a tee shirt and underwear. The next thing he knew 5-0 was putting him in the back of The Waddy Pagon. I mean he was just trying to get across town and shit went down. Hashtag Facts.

One story I had heard was that he was going to be evicted from his apartment and the storage unit he had was going to be auctioned off ALLEGEDLY due to either Late Payments or Non-Payment. Anyway, the shit hit the fan. Inside the Storage Unit was his mother’s ashes and now they’re gone ALLEGEDLY. These are just things that were told to me and I’ve got to take them with a grain of salt. Now as of recent, he ALLEGEDLY called a mutual and ALLEGEDLY said that he was in a bad situation. The mutual went to say that he was crying and he had a snub nosed .38 up against his head and he truly hated his life. When the mutual reached out to me and told me this story (not even Stephen King could have written this) and how he felt some kind of way about his life but being short of the ready, he couldn’t help him because that’s what he wanted.

After hearing this, I had to process this information and go through my mental Rolodex and see if I could find a card that was going to provide me with the right words. It took me about four days to find the right words. I wrote and the rewrote and edited my soliloquy. I then tossed it aside and then I wrote the following:

~>>>Yo. (Insert name here). Brother Dave reached out to me. We both wish we could help you out however we can't. We are not able to help you because you don't want to help yourself.

We took your advice and we are working on ourselves with meds and therapy.

Any 12 Step Program says: accept, acknowledge, affirm your actions and take ownership and responsibility and then make amends to those who you told to fuck off, eat shit and die.

Sadly I had a birthday yesterday and at 63 years old, I realized that both Brother Dave and myself had done nothing for you ever.

Scream, yell and have a temper tantrum.

Neither one of us can help you out here because you know two senior citizens who are losers.

We do actually care about you but we don't care about you because we are working on ourselves to be better people and you will not.

Sorry budd.

As always, your worst enemy,

(Insert name here)

I then waited for a few days before he clapped back with this and this where I was sitting in my car and laughing and crying at the same time. The absurdity of it all. I’ve read that text multiple times and still I truly believe that I’m in a coma. I’m completely brain dead. Now look here, I’ll safely admit that I’ve been in therapy since I was eight years old and at 63 years old, I’ve had brain surgery and I must admit that I’m the most ignorant person in the entire universe.

Here’s his response:

~>>>Idk why tf you text me. I don't need your help I'm an adult and good. Once again go fuck yourself. Your. Piece of shit, don't ever hit me up I'm blocking your ass. You need fucking help frfr

Excuse me ☝️ I thought I had heard that he has several outstanding warrants in the area he currently resides in and he also has some here on the East Coast ALLEGEDLY. From the very start, from in utero until now at his age of 37, he has been so fucking angry at me for abandoning him yet I did spend thousands of dollars on him in an attempt to make his life easier. As an example, he was playing football and I went without in order for him to have the necessary tools to play football yet he washed out and I apparently talked to his coach about how he should not have him playing football. Again, Excuse me ☝️!!

I know I have made the most obvious mistake by saying that he was my Foster Son. I know I’m a douche bag. I think back to when I last saw him in person. He was in jail and there was several inches of glass between us. I was on the phone with him and I told him how his Aunt and Mother had destroyed me. They concocted their own story about me and as I was doing the ugly cry, I could see him clearly clench his jaw and through his teeth he commanded me to stop crying and to stop talking to him about what happened. I know I had made another huge mistake and told him that I loved him as my son and he just cannot stand it anymore. I’ve always wanted to be a good parent and not just a friend on the periphery. Because I’ve been told by several people that I did the best I could and yet failed miserably and I live with the guilt.

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thequietmanno1 · 10 months

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Thelreads, Vigilantes 85, Replies Part 1

1) “And thus, we start a new era of vigilantes! The queen hast fallen, and McBee got McFucked, his plans were thrown into the trash, and he swore revenge. Koichi is in a big pickle. Oh this arc has a lot of potential- famous words said before a disaster, I know, but I still keep my hope! At least we won`t have Fires georg here to be annoying.”- Not unless you count his appearing in a tv for a scene or two anyway. 2) “IT`S PHELPS

NICE SEEING YOU HERE MY MAN, WHY THE SUIT, YOU GOING TO YOUR SISTER`S WEDDING OR SOMETHING?”- He needs the suit because it’s time for MHA Law & Order: Special Quirks Unit. 3) “Oh, they got the bastards? That`s unexpected, they technically didn`t do anything, there`s no evidence they helped koichi, besides the giant net to break his fall.”- I mean, they could technically hold them in custody, but honestly, it’d be a waste of their time and resources, especially sicne they’ve got the means to sic Makoto on Phelps via Koichi if needed.

4) “Now Puto that was the most suspicious bullshit you could have said, but honestly that is more believable than what the other guy said.

Jesus, it seems you guys at least bothered to agree on a single story.“- You just know that Soga had them all agree on the cover story, but Tochi just had a massive case of stage fright and fumbled his lines. 5) “Now, how far do your “knowledge” about her not being a typical villain goes, I wonder…”- They at least have physical evidence that there was something fucking around in her brain and altering her cognitive processes, but that’s something that would have to be saved for a court of law, and Nomura and AFO aren’t planning on letting things progress that far 6) “And after that she fell into a coma, we aren`t sure when she`ll wake up.”-

youtube

7) “That sigh better be about postal workers on strike, because if she does have amnesia or is in a coma I`m going to fucking lose my shit.”- ….Cough. 8) “Oh jesus, is that an hospital or a prison? Did they brought Pop to fucking Tartarus or something?”- High-security hospital wing, but honestly, with the kinds of powerful Quirks naturally embedded into people’s bodies, taking extra precautions and security measures isn’t that bad an idea – not even counting aberrations like Nomura who have multiple abilities through surgical experimentation and can sneak a bunch of assassination tools in under the radar, like exploding fists. 9) “IT`S MOM☆STEP AGAIN

HOLY SHIT, SHE IS INDEED ALIVE

and no sight of DAD☆STEP, I wonder where he is.”- Chugging beers with Izuku’s dad, would be my guess. 10) “Oh, this is interesting. How is she now? Did the Bee affect her personality and made her permanently unhinged? She was pumped full of trigger pretty much all the time, there`s no way that hasn`t given her a few lingering side effects.”- Pop not only needed immediate surgery, but also immediate protection, especially with Nomura’s declaration of war fresh on Koichi’s mind. They wanted her stabilised, but also put in a position where It wouldn’t be easy for Nomura to reach her and make Pop have a ‘tragic accident’ during the surgery. 11) “Phelps please, you know where your brother-in-law is, don`t be stupid, you don`t think he`s at home right now? I bet he didn`t even went to that secret warehouse, he`s probably on his bed as we speak.”- He’s presently training himself for playing Sniper Elite, IRL version 12) “Yeah, no need to bullshit him with things like “I don`t know who you`re talking about”, he knows he was involved, he always is, especially when it comes to Pop.

Being direct here is the best option, Koichi is busy hunting his hunter.”- It might be the worst possible spokesperson, but Soga is making the good points to be made about the vigilantes’ involvement in this case right now. 13) “For fuck`s sake Phelps, don`t get started with that crap, you let him run around doing as he pleases for two years, you know he is innocent, and if you really wanted to talk to him you`d ask your sister for his number.”- One way I see this is Phelps being concerned for Koichi’s well-being, wanting to have him in police custody so he doesn’t put himself in harm’s way between a dangerous unknown villain and the efforts of the police and the heroes to counteract this threat. 14) “The Muscle, yeah I agree.

Because he surely as fuck ain`t the brains.”- Also a nice acknowledgement that Koichi has now far outstripped the trio he initially struggled to fight against in chapter 1, and is now capable of being an independent vigilante on the streets if he needed to, present crisis notwithstanding. 15) “What? Like, four heroes? Five at most? Phelps, you are talking like Koichi personally threw a bus full of orphans into a volcano, chill dude.

Also, now we suddenly have a body count for Pop`s acts? Suddenly it wasn`t just a bunch of harmed civilians, now she actually killed someone? How convenient.”- I think Phelps was trying to guilt-trip Soga into giving up Koichi location by implying the damage done was far more deadly and serious than we’ve witnessed, only for it to fall flat because Soga’s unphased by that accusation and instead deftly turns it around on him. 16) “I do agree but shut the fuck up Soga, go talk like that to him when you survive a pointblank shot with a rubber bullet.”- Soga speaks truth, which is a good thing, but then again, it’s Soga speaking the blunt truth, which is bad. 17) “Yeah it was him, as we can see by Phelps` pissed-off face.

But I`m still surprised that they haven`t actually met, I would think that taking over Knuckle`s operation would require him to establish contact with his old assets, just to make sure they are okay with him when he needs their help.”- I’m guessing Soga’s distrust of the authorities extended to even the contacts Knuckle had on the inside, not to mention Tanuma’s department wasn’t directly linked to pop’s villain assault at the time, so he wasn’t a way ‘in’ for them during that situation. 18) “yeah yeah, get a room you two, we are here for business, just let him go already since you don`t have anything on him.”- I have to wonder what Soga’s future is after all this; if he’ll step into the role of a younger vigilante Knuckles for good or if he’ll wind up doing something else instead. 19) “Oh we`re gonna use some metaphor now, I see.

But you know Knuckles, there wouldn`t be holes in your socks if you didn`t bought cheap-ass socks.”- He needed to save up for all the back-alley drugs, equipment and improvised weaponry he bought instead.

20) “tthe fuck kinda metaphor was that knuckles my guy”- I dunno, it does kinda make sense. People ignore the need to replace what they already have if they can cover up the ‘holes’ or imperfections in the current possession so it all looks fine at a glance, but that doesn’t chance the fact that there’s still a hole there and it’s continually getting worse and worse underneath from all the wear and strain until you start getting a new hole torn into the cover-up…and there’s only so many socks you can wear before you need to face the root of the problem head-on.

@thelreads

#bnha vigilantes #bnha #thelreads #chapter replies #my hero academia #vigilantes 85

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also:

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #parents and families #meeting the family #Anonymous

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Imagine: Being friends with Alice and asking Carlisle for help on your chemistry homework

Characters: Cullen family, female reader

Rating: G

Word count: 2120

Warnings: None

Request by anon: Wait, omg I’m so happy I found a blog that’s updated recently and I’m definitely gonna ✨stalk✨ your blog and read all your writing after hw but if you’re still doing requests, I thought of something that I would just love to see written. And this could be short or something, y’know? It can be whatever you want it to be, but what if the reader is somewhat friends with the Cullens? Reader (maybe like 20 years old?) is invited to their house one weekend after bumping into Alice and becoming friends and from passing conversation, reader knows that Carlisle is a doctor so she asks him if he could help her with her organic chemistry hw cause she’s studying to be a med student?

A/n Wow I’m so sorry this took me so long! It’s such a cute request and I loved writing it! Thanks for sending it in and for being patient with me :)

Shoot.

Mentally, I groan, stopping my progress towards my car.

I still have chem homework.

I fiddle with the keys in my hand, contemplating. You could go home…lay in bed…maybe with a pint of ice cream…and pass out in a stress and sugar-induced coma.

Oh, how tempting.

But then I remind myself of why I’m putting myself through the hell that is a STEM degree, and turn on my heel, heading back to campus. I know I won’t get any work done if I go home, so the library it is! Thank goodness it’s open twenty-four hours, because it’s creeping up to eleven and I don’t have the heart to return to one of the academic buildings.

Seeing as it’s Friday night, the library isn’t crowded. Still, I push past all the tables on the first floor and head up to my favorite spot on the second. Settling in at my favorite partially secluded table, I pull out my organic chemistry textbook, pop in my earbuds, and get to work.

{***}

A small, pale hand skims over the table near my book, and I look up with a start.

Alice Cullen stands by my desk, clutching a set of books that look too heavy for her thin arms, but she seems to be managing fine. She and I met during the first week of classes, and have been tentative friends ever since. We don’t see much of each other, given our varying degree programs, but she always greets me with a friendly smile and an offer to join her to study. I pull out my headphones, and give her a tired smile. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good!” She smiles excitedly, somehow keeping her energy levels at—I check the time on my phone—1:12 am! “Have you been here for long?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of the late hour on my shoulders. “Since around eleven. I was going home but then I forgot I have o-chem homework. I don’t think it should be taking me this long, but I’m struggling. Thankfully only half of it is due in the morning. The rest isn’t due until after the weekend.”

Alice peers over to look at my book and the problems I work through in my notebook. “Oh, those do look hard. But you know, my dad is a doctor, and he probably knows this stuff like the back of his hand. He’d be more than happy to help you.”

I blanch. An invitation to the Cullen’s house? And free help on o-chem homework?

But then I remember my manners. “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t—”

“Please,” she squeaks, balancing her books in one arm and using the other to retrieve her phone. “We’d be happy to have you over! I’ll let my family know. Does tomorrow around lunchtime work?”

“Uh,” I swallow, not sure I’m believing my ears. “That works great, thank you! I can bring the food?”

She shakes her head, waving off the offer. “Don’t worry about it—Mom loves to cook and will be excited to really use the kitchen. Oh! And there’s this new series my sisters and I have been dying to watch. It’s called Broadchurch. Have you heard of it? Maybe we can start it and see if it’s any good!”

I nod dumbly, too tired and relieved for the help to refuse again. “That sounds fun! Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles, shrugging like it’s nothing. “What are friends for?”

My smile softens. She considers us friends. “Do you want to walk out together? It’s pretty late.”

She beams and waits while I collect my stuff.

{***}

I pull up to the front of the massive house.

Alice is waiting for me on the porch. She waves excitedly, and I notice her fiancé standing near the door, looking uncomfortable. I stifle a chuckle. It’s well-known that Jasper, introvert in every sense of the word, fell hard for Alice who is the embodiment of an extravert. I wave, grabbing my backpack and stepping out of the car.

“Welcome,” Alice practically shouts. Jasper gives me a polite nod.

I smile at the two of them, calling out my hello’s and climbing the stairs to the porch. The second Jasper opens the door, I’m greeted by the warm smile of Esme Cullen.

“Hello, Y/n, welcome to our home! We are so happy to have you here.” She extends a warm smile, one I can’t help but return immediately.

Alice leads us straight to the living room, where two of her adoptive siblings, Emmett and Rosalie, lounge. Rosalie sketches something I can’t see, and Emmett yells loudly at the TV, losing at a video game.

“Beat it, Emmett,” Alice chirps, dancing over and taking the controller from his hands. “We’re going to watch Broadchurch.”

Putting his frustration at the game aside, Emmett grins, standing and ruffling Alice’s hair. “Alright, I was getting my ass kicked anyway. Hey, Y/n, good to see you again.”

I return his greeting, familiar with Emmett from an intro to theatre class we had together last semester. The image of his interpretation of Juliet for our final project comes to mind, and I have to stifle a laugh. Emmett goes to leave the room, pulling Jasper with him.

“Send Bella down, would you,” Alice calls after them, already settling on the couch. “Rose, you know Y/n, right?”

Rosalie looks up from her sketching. She smiles briefly at me, then returns to her task. I sit awkwardly next to Alice, waiting for Bella so we can start the show.

“There aren’t many women in STEM.”

My head shoots up, wide eyes turning in Rosalie’s direction. She doesn’t look up from her work, but I know she’s addressing me—Alice is studying fashion merchandising and design.

“Y-yeah,” I stammer. Alice’s older sister is just so intimidating. Well-spoken, obviously intelligent, tall, prettier than anyone I’ve ever met, and top of her law class. She’s not exactly warm either, like her mother or sister—even now, there’s a cold bite to her tone. But the edges of her lips quirk up, and I can tell she’s being nice.

“Don’t let the guys push you around. What you’re doing is important, and you’re probably smarter than them. What do you want to do with your degree?”

The answer, always on my heart and mind, is automatic. “I want to be a doctor. So, med school is next.”

She nods once. “Good.”

And apparently that’s the end of our conversation.

I try to hide my smile by rummaging around in my backpack for my water bottle. It’s nice to feel supported.

Bella comes gliding down the stairs and twists into the living room, folding herself easily onto the love seat. She greets me, and then tosses me the throw over the back of her couch. Alice nods as if forgetting something, then reaches into a basket hidden between our couch and Rosalie’s chair and produces three more blankets, throwing two to her sisters and keeping one for herself. She shoots me a grin as each of us, even the serious Rosalie, snuggles up.

Alice stands, turning off the lights and then wraps back in her blanket and scoots near me on the couch. “I hope this is good!” With a grin, she opens Netflix and plays the first episode.

{***}

Broadchurch does not disappoint. Before I know it, we’re halfway through the second episode, eyes glued to the screen. Bella, who was definitely reading a book under her blanket at the start, has put it to the side, leaning forward and watching the show intently.

The front door creaks, then clicks closed, and Alice smiles, pressing pause on the remote. “Dad’s home.”

Before long, the famed local doctor comes in to say hi to the girls and to greet me. He’s just as welcoming as his wife!

“Alice told me you are having trouble with some organic chemistry homework?”

I nod, hoping it’s not too much to ask for his help. “I got a good start on some of the problems last night, but I keep messing up. I’m not really sure where I’m going wrong—there’s no answer key so I can’t work backwards through the problems.”

He nods, casually resting his hands in the pocket of his slacks. “I remember o-chem homework quite well.” He grins conspiratorially. “It is the bane of many a med student’s existence. Why don’t you girls finish up your episode and then join Esme and me in the kitchen for lunch? I can take a look at your homework if you like.”

Relief washes over me. “That would be great, thank you so much.”

He smiles warmly. “Of course. Now, if you all will excuse me….” With a twinkle in his eye, he leaves us to rejoin his wife.

This family is so nice! I wonder why they get so much flack at school?

Alice resumes the episode, and soon my musings are washed away as I try to piece together the mystery of the murder before the detectives can.

{***}

Esme is a wonderful cook. Carlisle sings her praises but doesn’t fix a plate for himself, saying he ate plenty as she was cooking. We all sit down at the table, though I’m the only one who eats in earnest — Bella claims to be filled up on snacks, Rose says she’s on a diet, and Alice takes a small helping for herself, every now and then poking the chicken in mild disgust. I don’t see what the problem is, the food is fantastic!

Carlisle sits down next to me, and I slide my textbook and notebook in his direction. He smiles, looking almost nostalgic. “I remember these. The good news is, as a doctor, you won’t be doing much of this in day-to-day life, if at all. But it is important for some courses you will take in medical school, so it’s best to master the concepts now. See, on number nineteen, you start the problem correctly, but get lost once you have to balance the equation to continue. Instead of waiting until the middle to balance, I would do that first, that way, you have a solid base before moving on to solve the rest of the problem.”

I nod, peering over at the paper intently. I hadn’t tried that strategy before.

Carlisle takes out a pen, and begins scratching out an equation. Then, he grins, shaking his head, and crosses it out, starting again in much neater handwriting. “Forgive my penmanship. Though, if you decide to continue and become a practicing doctor, your handwriting will soon be indecipherable, too.”

From across the table, Rosalie snorts, and I can’t help but laugh along. It seems almost a rite of passage for a doctor to have horrendous handwriting.

In clearer script, Carlisle continues working out the problem, then slides the paper over for me to see. He explains what he did at each step, and I nod along, trying to commit as much of it to memory as possible. He works out another problem in the same way, then asks me to try on my own. I smile tentatively as I go, hesitant to accept that I actually know how to do the problem now.

But I do.

It takes concentration to work through the steps, but I can, which is a far cry from where I was last night. Carlisle waves off my thanks, saying I just needed to try a different approach, but I had it within me all along. I bring up another section I had issues with—structures of the elements—and Carlisle teaches me a better strategy for memorizing a few and then figuring out the rest. By the time Esme and Bella have put the food away, my homework is done—in a fourth of the time it would have taken me struggling through it on my own.

“Seriously, Dr. Cullen, thank you so much.”

He smiles pleasantly, handing me back my textbook. “Of course. If you need help again, just come on over. I know the girls love having the company, and my wife and I enjoyed the opportunity to meet you as well.”

Esme appears behind her husband, laying her hands affectionately on his shoulders. “Absolutely, Y/n. Please come over any time.”

I pack up my homework and thank them once again for lunch and for the help. Alice darts to my side, grinning. “Ready to finish the episode?”

I feel so much lighter now that my homework is done, and I don’t feel guilty at all for spending time with my new friends. In fact, I may even indulge in that ice cream when I get home.

“Absolutely.”

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, here’s the link to my masterlist :)

#twilight #twilight renaissance #platonic twilight #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #esme cullen #bella cullen #twilight imagine #carlisle imagine #alice imagine

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transgenderknothead · 3 years

Text

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jason the toymaker #Jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #candy pop #laughing jack #puppeteer #Helen Otis #Bloody painter

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thewhiteroseofvermilion · 3 years

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Moving Forward

Hello everyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve last spoken to you all, and an even longer time since I’ve last updated this story. Over the months and years, my absence has saddened, frustrated, and even angered many of you. Despite my own valid feelings of how—to put it bluntly—I don’t owe any of you anything as this is something I do for free and in my own free time, I still recognize how it must feel for you all to see something you enjoy so much slowly lose momentum and eventually grind to a halt. Furthermore, my habit of making enthusiastic yet empty statements in between didn’t help either.

As such, a proper and honest explanation is due, as anything less would be unkind. This will be lengthy, but please bear with me.

For the past four years, it’s been increasingly difficult to find the time, energy, and motivation for me to properly sit down and write. Seemingly gone are the early days of this story’s life when I was able to publish a new chapter every month or so, or even every two weeks when I was at the top of my game in terms of activeness. Even though I had an immense workload due to being a double major in college, leading me to adopt the best work ethic I’ve ever had, I still led a sheltered lifestyle where I didn’t have to worry about the many looming, inevitable adult responsibilities that were ahead of me.

Those tranquil years of course came to an end when I graduated, and I soon felt immense pressure to shift my attention to finding work, living independently, and working on things that would further my career. While I received support as an aspiring writer from the majority of my family, those being my mother and sister, the both of them commented more frequently as time passed by that my “fanfiction” wasn’t something that I should be spending so much time on anymore. After all, it’s not like I could sell the work as my own, and the fact that despite fanfiction absolutely being a valid artform, it wasn’t something that the world of professional employers cared about.

Nonetheless, when I did eventually find work as a film freelancer, I still tried to persevere and write on the side. My goal back then was to work in film in order to sustain my pursuit in writing. Film was something I went to school for, greatly enjoyed, and even saw a possible future career for myself in, but it was the writing aspect of it that I was truly after, that being primarily screenwriting.

After two years of living at home, I felt the need to try and live independently as I outgrew my tiny room and my mom started dating a man that I didn’t particularly like. I knew it wasn’t financially smart of me to do so when my mom allowed me to live with her rent-free. But at the time I thought that it would help me to become more mature and productive, as I would have to force myself to work in order to put a roof over my head and food on the table—as opposed to living a sheltered life at home where everything was taken care of for me. Essentially, I was longing for the lifestyle I had in college, thinking that once I returned to it, I would be able to reacquire that once incredible work ethic I had.

So, I became roommates with a friend from college and together we rented a townhouse together. Rent wasn’t terribly expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either. Regardless, I was able to make ends meet. My greatest challenge however, was to live up to my family’s spoken and unspoken expectations. On one hand, my mother was sweet and understanding, naturally giving me her full support. My father, on the other, always thought that it’d be better for me to pursue something safer and more lucrative, and to not risk being a starving artist. But the one I had to prove myself the most to was my older sister, who was wildly more successful than I was—financially and professionally. My pay compared to hers was like a drop in a bucket, and I felt both indirect and direct pressure from her to be more “professional” like her. Therefore, I threw myself into my work, which is when things slowly began to go downhill.

As a film freelancer, my work hours usually averaged between 10-12 hours a day, and with my work taking me all over my home state of Maryland and even into neighboring Washington DC and Virginia, my commute time to and from work ranged anywhere from an additional 1-3 hours. It became incredibly common for me to wake up for work anywhere between 3-6 AM and not get home until 8-10 PM.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I slowly slipped into a routine where when I did have the “time” to write, I had zero energy or motivation as my work was so taxing. I reached the point where I had to drink two energy drinks with 300mg of caffeine to get myself to and from work. I saw less and less of my roommate and friends. I spent an alarming amount of money and gained weight from ordering take-out so often because I hadn’t the energy to cook for myself when I got home late from work. There would even be days when I fell into what felt like comas, sleeping up to two days straight at one point. My physical, mental, and emotional health was in serious decline. And yet I didn’t see it that way, as I had become obsessed with trying to prove to my family, my sister in particular, that I wasn’t a failure and that my pursuit of writing wasn’t a hopeless one.

During the first month of COVID-19′s outbreak last year, I finally had a much-needed vacation. This was undoubtedly the best time for me to have returned to writing—but I didn’t. At this point, so much time had passed since my last proper writing session that the few times I did try to write, I found myself completely unable to write anything. I was so out of practice and so out of touch with what I had written. This honestly frightened me, and I soon began to doubt if I could ever be able continue the story with the same quality that so many readers fell in love with. Regrettably, I fled from this revelation long enough for a full month to pass by, and I soon found myself busy with yet another distraction: unemployment.

I was out of work for about 4.5 months, from the middle of March to the beginning of August. During this time, I had to rely on state unemployment, which earned me great scorn from my older sister. Our relationship had always been uneven since we were kids, but it was becoming increasingly toxic as of late since our college years. I felt so ashamed to tell her how much money I made in a year from my job as a film freelancer, and how I barely managed to move to a better position after four years of work. Riddled with guilt and disappointment in myself, when work became readily available again in August, I frantically threw myself back in harder than ever before. In the past where I had turned down the occasional job to give myself some time to relax or in order to make it to a social outing with friends, I now accepted every job thrown my way, only declining those that would make me double-book myself. I earned a lot of money during those months as a result, and I was so happy to finally distance myself from the stigma of being “unemployed.” However, I once again failed to see that I was yet again sliding back into the lifestyle that had been slowly poisoning me for the past two years.

After essentially working non-stop from August to March, my body, mind, and soul soon returned right back to the brink of collapse. It wasn’t until then at my lowest point when I finally realized how I initially went from working to sustain myself in order to write, to not writing at all and only working to sustain myself to work even more. It was truly scary to see myself fall victim to a brutal cycle of unfulfilling work that could have trapped me for years to come if I hadn’t broken free first. That’s when I realized that my lifestyle was personally unsustainable, and that something had to change.

Henceforth, I’ve made the difficult decisions to both transition out of film freelancing and to soon return home to live with my father. At the end of April, the homeowner of the townhouse my roommate and I had been living in for close to three years gave us our 30-days-notice to vacate, as they no longer wished to rent but to sell the property. As my roommate had been planning on finding a place of his own with his girlfriend for quite some time, we split amicably at the end of last month in May and I’ve since moved into a temporary apartment with a friend who has traveled back to Maryland for seasonal work.

Regarding the change in my career, I’ve been looking into applying for writing positions for something that I’ve grown to enjoy over the past few years, which is to write reviews for media such as film, anime, and videogames. This of course is not what I truly want to do in life, but I think that because it actually involves writing, it would be both good practice in terms of practicing my writing and experience in terms of resume-building. Furthermore, a stable “9-5″ job as such would be good for me, I think, as it would introduce some desperately needed structure back into my life. Being a freelancer was definitely fun as I had the power to choose my own schedule, but it unfortunately fostered a lot of laziness and procrastination when I wasn’t completely burnt out.

I’ve shared with you all this information, a great deal of it being very personal, in the hopes that it helps you better understand who I am as a person and what I’ve been going through these past four years.

I understand that my word may be difficult to trust due to my history, but I sincerely wish to let you all know from the bottom of my heart that I do plan on continuing writing The White Rose of Vermilion until it’s completed. My fears and insecurities may have alienated me from that promise, but not once did I ever entertain the idea of fully dropping the story. And I promise you, I never will. It most likely will not further my career in any way, bring any revenue in, and will continue to consume a great deal of my precious free time—yet I still choose to pursue continuing it because I can’t see a future where I don’t finish it.

It is after all my most cherished project; the reason that I was able to truly find my calling as an aspiring writer, its success also ultimately being the proof to my mother that I had some skill as a budding writer, who then gave me her full blessings to pursue it as a career. But most important of all is that it’s the reason why I was able to experience first-hand one of the most important and beautiful discoveries in my entire life. That being the incredible phenomenon of how art is like a beacon—its bright light is powerful enough to reach out and inspire others to create art of their own. From Monty Oum to Nancy Phetchareune to myself, I was blessed enough to see readers create wonderful fanart to show me or tell me in a review that reading my story had inspired them to create something of their own.

I am officially leaving behind my prolonged hiatus and returning to working on The White Rose of Vermilion. While I am extremely hesitant to even estimate when the next chapter will be published, please know that I am genuinely trying to leave behind my habits of old and returning to a more consistent schedule.

The White Rose of Vermilion will return in:

Arc II, Chapter Twenty-Seven: Stranger in the Night

#TWRoV #The White Rose of Vermilion

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detective-gum-chew · 3 years

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okay okay okay

i know this isnt an orginal idea by any means but roleswap!narumitsu is just so good

so youll have to indulge me because this lives in my head rent free and i want to write it down concretely somewhere (also this gets LONG so ill pop a cut in here)

alright so:

1. at least in my writing of it, this is also a no-dl6/gregory lives au. but as well at that, miles and phoenix didnt go to school together

2. this means that there was nobody to defend phoenix at the class trial (yes i know the money stolen was edgeworths but shhh lets pretend it was someone elses, kay?) this lead to phoenix becoming not only bitter, but somewhat obsessive over the idea of punishing people that do wrong

(if someone can find that quote where phoenix talks about how he could have become a prosecutor because of the trial i will give u a gentle kiss on the forehead)

3. Edgeworth was raised by Gregory and ends up becoming a defense attorney

4. in this, Von Karma goes down and Franzy is adopted by Gregory, and she assists Miles in his cases. (she can still have a whip, as a treat.)

5. anyway with that set up, lets get into some cases

6. Larry gets accused of Cindys murder, Miles defends with Franzy

7. Lets say Mia was in the crowd of that trial and decided to contact miles, seeing as he appears to be another uncorrupt lawyer and asks him for his help in taking down Redd White

8. He agrees, and she sets a time for him to meet at her office so they can talk. Mia then calls her sister and updates her on how shes going to recruit another person (Redd White hears this)

9. Much like the original case, Mia gets murdered, but this time, Maya isnt here to be blamed. Instead, its Miles himself, as the name that White heard over the phone (so basically we’re speed running to the “defend yourself in court” part)

10. the prosecutor today is Phoenix Wright.

11. but before that lets go into some backstory actually. Phoenix had encountered Mia previously during the Terry Fawles case. He had respected her as a peer, if not for just her determination and deductive skills. (After all, he was young at the time and solely focused on punishing the wicked) After Diego’s poisoning, he had briefly reached out for condolences

12. but anyway, Phoenix had distantly respected Mia, and now that she was dead, he was going to be tough on whoever he thought murdered her.

13. Miles proves his innocence, although it takes some baiting to get Redd White out of his building and actually into court.

14. Wright is... not pleased about this, but theres not much he can do. His displeasure for Mias murder has shifted, but theres a new displeasure for Miles, the man who could beat him in court. (”well well well, you managed to save your own skin. But you should hope you get as lucky as you did in your next case”)

15. Next case! We know Miles is a steel samurai fan, so even without Maya it takes very little convincing for him to take the case. (Fran is not as amused but trusts her brother... enough.. to follow his lead)

16. Case proceeds mostly as normal, with Phoenix requiring Dee to re-do her testimony (maybe something deep within him still itches to put the true bad guy away, even if its harder than the accused)

17. I dont think Phonix would deliver the unnecessary feelings line, although there definetely is that moment in the lobby where hes like “hm. maybe you arent a bad person, but that doesnt mean i have to like you.”

18. and now, now now now, we finally get to the part where i somehow managed to put the most thought into. (for context it is nearly 2 am when i am writing this)

19. sleep schedule aside, you couldnt have thought i would made this WITHOUT some good angst, so here we go. case four is similarly structured to the original, but with an extra side of Phoenix angst.

20. Miles wakes up to Franzy shaking him. She points to the television. the news is on, but the voices are drowned out by a distant ringing as he stares at the image on the screen.

Famed Prosecutor Phoenix Wright Arrested For Murder

21. it just doesnt make sense. So he gets out of bed and into the closest clothes he can find and out the door with his sister in tow. He sits in the cold detention room, thinking about the other side of the glass.

22. Phoenix Wright looks dull. He asks what they want. Miles says he wants an explanation. Wright sneers and asks why. For some reason, that pisses Miles off. He slams his badge to the glass and Wright looks surprised.

“Do you know what this is? It’s my attorneys badge.”

“the badge doesnt mean youre a good lawyer.”

“Well Mr Wright, its 2-0, so i dont think you have any right to say that.” Miles glares at him and Wright sits back in his seat. He watches Miles for a long time.

“If im going to defend you, you need to tell me what happened.“ Wrights eyebrows shoot up and Franziska squawks at his side

“What do you mean defend him!”

“What she said.”

Miles narrows his eyes at Wright as he ponders to himself the answer. Why is he doing it? the answer comes to him.

“Because i dont believe you did it.”

For all his snark, Miles cant bring himself to believe that the man in front of him would kill someone. Theres something about him, either in his eyes or the way he carries himself that makes the idea itself preposterous. Wright looks at him for a long time after he says it.

“Very well.”

21. Miles doesnt seem him until court, but at least he testifies. The next person up, a red head by the name of Melissa Foster, gives a testimony that seems airtight.

22. that is, until he looks over at Phoenix, who is pale as he looks at the woman on the witness stand. Phoenix catches his eye, and very carefully, very slowly, mouths one name.

Dahlia Hawthorne

23. (I really wish i could continue with the more narrative parts of this but im honestly running out of steam and ill get to the point lol. Maybe ill finish it later.)

24. Terry Fawles dies on the stand. Diego Armando falls into a coma. Dahlia Hawthorne walks free. Even after what happened to Diego, Phoenix is convinced he can do better. He sets up a meeting with Dahlia.

25. Doug shows up, trying to persuade him away from it, saying he overheard Dahlia’s plan to kill Phoenix when she arrives. Phoenix is cocky, and the pair fight. Doug gets shoved into the powerline. Phoenix, thinking him dead, panics and runs.

26. Dahlia, having overheard, goes back and finishes him off, drops some poison into his mouth perhaps. With an accidental death with a cause so obvious, nobody bothers to run blood tests (until Miles)

27. Its years later, and Phoenix gets a note that tells him they know what really happened to Doug. Phoenix arrives to a meeting place to find a dead body. He picks up the vial of poison almost absently.

28. After all, Dahlia had gotten rid of Diego and Mia was dead. Now all she had to do was get rid of Phoenix

29. It plays out similarly to case four, with Phoenix being absolved of the first murder, then confessing to the old one. Miles has gone through the work to save his life once, that he cant not do it again.

30. but happy endings (ish) for all, with Phoenix being freed, Dahlia imprisoned and Miles having a better understanding of both him and Phoenix.

31. maybe more happens but we’re at bullet point 31 so its time to stop for now lmao. uh but yeah! roleswap au..... brainrot really.

#lmk what yall think #sorry to maya for writing her out but i couldnt find a way to put her in ;-;#sorry if it gets repetitive towards the end i did not edit this at all #roleswap au #defense attorney!miles #prosecutor!phoenix #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #aa au

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, fingering, t h r e e s o m e, cum eating, sloppy seconds kinda?, multiple orgasms, creampie, cumshot, nipple play, tender manhandling, overstimulation, praise, this one has me hot and bothered folks

DAY FOUR

It’s dark when you wake up, still feeling slightly floaty. Beside you, Taehyung still snores away, naked bar for his pair of boxers and the sheets draped lazily over his torso. He looks peaceful, face angelic and chest rising and falling deeply. The sight of him almost makes you want to fall asleep then and there, but your throat is parched and your mouth is dry.

Perhaps sleeping the day away wasn’t wise, but still you dress in dim silence, padding down the stairs with bare feet and nothing more than Taehyung’s shirt - even more oversized on you - and a fresh pair of panties.

This is the first time you’ve really been out of your room at this hour, and you marvel at the enveloping stillness of the air. No lights, only the creeping moonlight to guide your way to the kitchen, eager to ease your dry mouth. The refrigerator light makes your eyes ache as you pull out a bottle of water, uncapping it with a sigh and leaning back against the countertop, gulping almost a third of it down before your brain starts to pang at the sudden cold.

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at the sudden voice, glancing up to see the round, pale face of Min Yoongi peeking over the couch. In such deeply–set quiet, you feel the need to speak lowly, just enough for him to hear. “Just woke up, actually.”

He combs through the dyed honey blonde of his hair as his eyes narrow in disbelief. “Is that Taehyung’s shirt from this morning? So that’s where the two of you have been all day. You must’ve really gone at it like rabbits, it’s almost three in the morning.”

“Jesus,” you groan. “I must’ve been asleep more than 12 hours then. I feel like I’ve woken up from a coma or something, I swear.”

“That good, huh?” he says in a teasing tone as you take another sip of water.

“Go upstairs and see for yourself if you’re so curious,” you retort.

Yoongi stays silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is different. Softer. “Come sit.”

You obey silently, a little huff forced out of your lungs when you drop onto the couch beside him, cradling the bottle of water between your knees as you wait for him to say something, explain why he’d asked you over.

The blonde-haired man scoffs softly, nudging your shoulder. “Come on, I’m not telling you off or anything. If you want to go, you can go, but I thought you might like some company.”

The air is warmer here beside him. “I’ll stay,” you answer quietly.

“Three days,” he muses, his voice bringing colour to the dark room. “Why does it feel like weeks?”

You hum, unable to think of a reply that would comfort him. “What would you have been doing if you weren’t here right now?”

Yoongi’s legs are crossed, much like how Jimin always sits, but it gives off a far more casual vibe as he slumps, butt resting almost right on the edge of the cushion. “I’d probably still be up. I’d just be up alone.”

“Night owl?” you question, tucking one foot up under you so you can face him more.

“Lonely,” he answers simply, eyes focused on the table in front of him.

You don’t know what to say. Luckily, it seems like he’s not finished, but just taking a pause to collect his thoughts. You’ve been noticing that Yoongi seems like the type to mean every word he says, and consider each one carefully.

“I thought I‌ was picking a career filled with people,” he elaborates, voice flickering low like a single flame. “I guess in some ways, both health practitioning and teaching are fairly sociable jobs. But I rarely see the same person twice. There was a time when I thought I preferred it like that. I’ve never been a social butterfly like some of the guys here. But after a few years, you just feel so hollowed out by it.”

You let his words sink in for a moment, head resting on the back of the couch. “And now?”

“Now?” he repeats with a frown.

“Are you still lonely now?”

He attempts a smile. “I can’t decide.”

You frown at his sullen tone. “We all love having you here, you know? Seokjin really appreciates your help in the kitchen, the two youngest both adore you, Namjoon respects you so much and I’m pretty sure Hoseok and Jimin would’ve had a catfight in the living room if it wasn’t for your level-headedness.”

Yoongi brightens a little bit, just enough for his lips to twitch, genuinely this time. Slowly, his eyes slide over to meet yours. “And you?”

You slip the tip of your tongue out enough to wet your lips. “I- If it’s okay, I’d rather show you my appreciation.”

His eyes are molten as they search your face for any signs of hesitation. When they find none, he uncrosses his legs, splaying them apart, and leans over to press lightly at your shoulder. “Lean back,” he instructs, the soft tone replaced with a casual roughness that he usually spoke with.

You swallow, letting the water bottle between your legs fall to the floor as you lie back, head resting against the arm of the couch.

Yoongi looks down at you, distaste flitting across his features. Your heart stops for a moment before he reaches out to tug at the hem of your baggy shirt. Tae‘s baggy shirt. “Take this off,” he orders with a grumble.

You ditch it hastily, wanting Yoongi’s hands on you, and shiver at the sudden cold, lying beneath him in nothing but your panties. “Yoongi,” you whisper, back arching as an incentive for him to touch you.

Reverently, a wide hand dips down, fingertips running over your shoulder, your bare chest and stomach, and back up to cup your breast, squeezing just enough to make you sigh, wanting more. As he fondles it, Yoongi adjusts his stance, hooking one leg between you and the back of the couch, propping himself up with his other arm so that he can lean down over you.

Rather than kissing you straight away, he watches your face with a look like hunger, drinking in your every reaction as his fingers slip up to pass over the stiffened peak, thumbing it so it continues to plump up.

You let out a breathy moan, tipping your chin up towards him. The hand on your breast slips up to cup your face, big enough that the tips of his fingers dip into your hair. It’s overwhelming; his legs on either side of you, and your face cradled in his tender grasp, bracketed between the back of the couch and his arm. Finally, his face lowers enough for his lips to brush yours, and your eyes slip closed in bliss.

This close, every breath is lined with his scent, rich yet tangy like mint and caramel, a juxtaposition that suits him perfectly. His lips on yours are like fine silk, brushing so lightly that you tremble at the intimacy of it. Every movement is painfully precise, languid. His fingers gently play with your hair like he can’t quite keep them still, but his lips take their time with you. The two of you are in your own world, alone to savour every delicate touch. No one else is awake, so you let the butterflies in your stomach grow and the flutter on your lips continue, hands wandering lower to where his shirt - a white tee with the letters FG stamped in black on the front - is slightly tucked into a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He sighs heavily onto your lips when your fingers first touch his skin, tracing a line just above the waistband.

“You have no idea,” he confesses in a hush, “how long I’ve waited to feel you.”

You gasp when his head dips lower, lips brushing your ear, your jaw, down your throat to press a trail of chaste kisses along the base of your throat, his tongue darting out to flick kitten licks over your pulse point. “Yoongi,” you sigh, “you don’t have to wait any longer.”

“Y/n?”

Yoongi groans at the distant voice that breaks the silence. “Please just ignore it,” he mutters under his breath. “He’ll be fine.”

You bite your lip, ears straining to work out where Taehyung’s voice came from. It sounds like he’s upstairs, the sound lofty.

There’s only a moment of silence, Yoongi nudging your jaw with his nose to tip it back again, kisses slightly more insistent down the column of your throat, before you hear a thud.

“Y/n?” Taehyung repeats, voice calling out slightly louder into the dark of the house. “Did you go downstairs?”

Yoongi lets out a rushed exhale. “Fuck.” Sitting up off of you, he reaches down to pass you Tae’s shirt off the floor. Yoongi’s jaw ticks as you put it back on. “Just tell him you’re busy.”

You send him a look, before stepping up and out into the kitchen, taking the water bottle with you. “Down here, Tae,” you reply. His response is given in the noisy thuds of him coming down the stairs, and soon enough his face pops around the corner, brightening when he sees you.

“I woke up alone,” he says with a playful pout, hands finding your waist to press your bodies together, rocking the two of you back and forth. “Come back to bed.”

You force yourself not to glance over at the couch, feeling strangely guilty. Instead, you smile at Taehyung. “We slept all day. I feel too awake now.”

“Then let’s try out your bath! I saw some bath bombs there. Or we can make bubbles?”

You think you hear a faint huff in the living room but you ignore it, letting yourself be anchored in the slow swaying, looking up at Taehyung. “I’m sorry, Tae, I’m not really in the mood. You can have one, if you want? I don’t mind.”

“But then that’s not…” You see the wheels turning in Taehyung’s head, an excited smile tugging at his lips. “Are you sure? Thank you, Y/n! Come join me if you want!”

He pulls away from you, and an odd stir of relief stirs in your chest. “Have fun,” you say weakly, and he ducks his head to press a kiss on your forehead before turning back the way he came, jumping noisily up the stairs.

In the living room, Yoongi’s head once again pops up over the back of the couch. “Coast is clear?” he questions in a joking tone, but you can’t muster a smile. Yoongi stands up, brows furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

You sink back against the counter, staring sullenly at the half-empty water bottle in your hands. “Why do I feel like an asshole, Yoongi?”

He’s beside you quicker than you expect, hands gently pressing under your jaw to lift your gaze up to his. “Hey, hey,” he coos gently, eyes warm with reassurance, “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

You hate the way your eyes water, but you can’t help it. His thumbs are on your cheeks, brushing away the tears as they fall, and you tip your head back in an effort to prevent them, taking a shuddering breath. “I‌ feel so bad for them, Yoongi?”

“For who?”

You sniff. “Namjoon and Tae. The other day, Namjoon told me he- that he-”

“Shh, I‌ know, he told us,” Yoongi murmurs, his own eyes glistening at the sight of you in tears. “Keep going, sweetheart.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, trying to still your thudding heart. “But he likes me and now Tae is… I don’t know, but I’m worried that he might too, and then… Then I’m the asshole for sleeping with seven people at once.” You shrug with a bitter, teary laugh. “How can I act all coupley with Tae or try anything like that with Namjoonie when I know that I‌ can’t promise them anything?”

Yoongi’s lips part, moving silently as he seeks the right words. After a moment, he sighs, cupping your face one last time before lowering his hands, one rubbing at your back, making you sigh at the comfort. “I’ll be honest, Y/n,” he begins slowly, “I know all there is to know about sex physically, but- In this case, I don’t think I’m the right person to give you advice.”

“It’s okay,” you mumble, wiping your eyes and sniffing to clear your nose.

“No, no, I think you should chat with someone about this, and if I’m honest, I could use some advice too.” You give him a frown of confusion, and he grimaces with a sheepish grin. “When Taehyung called out for you, I’ll admit I wanted to beat that brat for interrupting us when he’d already had his turn. But I shouldn’t think of him or you that way, it’s not healthy. I think perhaps you and I should go upstairs and talk to Seokjin-hyung, Y/n. Do you think you’d want that?”

“He’s probably asleep,” you deflect, though you can’t deny that you could do with an expert opinion at a time like this.

“Probably,” Yoongi agrees lightly, pressing on your back to begin guiding you towards the stairs, “but I think he’d much rather you wake him up than agonise over it for hours while he sleeps.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay, I’d like to go see him. Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” His hand slips into yours as he leads you up the stairs, but rather than anything with deeper meaning, it just speaks of comfort, a squeeze of reassurance as he knocks on Jin’s door, across the hall from yours.

Jin answers after the fourth knock, squinting into the hallway with a yawn. “Jungkook, for the last time, I- Oh.” The annoyance on his face drops, eyes widening with concern even as he blinks slowly, still half-asleep. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we come in, hyung?” Yoongi asks instead. “Some emergency midnight counselling?”

“It’s-” Jin breaks off to look back into his room, groaning at the time. You wince, bracing yourself for a scolding. “Almost five in the morning. I once had a baker schedule weekly sessions for three a.m. before he went to work, this is nothing. Come inside and make yourselves comfy.”

Your shoulders go slack with relief, letting yourself be pulled inside by your still-entwined hands.

Jin’s room is tidy but lived in; the floors are clean of stray clothes or other belongings, but the head of his bed is laden with different sized stuffed toys and the sweet smell of french pear fills the air from a diffuser resting on the window sill. You sit cross-legged and lean against the headboard, grabbing a round white plushie to hug for emotional support. Yoongi sits at the foot of the bed, and Jin comes and tugs on a dressing gown, perfectly spaced between the two of you as he takes a seat in the middle, legs stretched out across the width of the bed.

“Now,” Jin begins softly, and with that one word you feel yourself safe under his authority, cared for. His relaxed but introspective posture, the non-judgemental warmth on his face and the inviting guidance of his tone combine together to ease the tension in your chest. You send Yoongi a quick glance of gratitude, and he smiles back. “I want to begin,” Jin continues, “by reassuring the two of you that you’re both safe, and there’s no time pressure here. No emergency. Whatever problems you’re having, let’s work through them together. I’d love to say this is entirely confidential, however-” Jin breaks off to wordlessly gesture at the blinking red light of the camera aimed towards the bed. “But, it will be kept confidential between us and not spread to the other members of the house. Who would like to explain what’s going on?”

You nod your chin at Yoongi, and he laughs softly, sitting up. “Alright then. The issue of jealousy is beginning to rear its ugly head. Y/n is feeling guilty about it, and I admit I’m not completely innocent of feeling a bit jealous myself.”

“Jealous? How so?”

“Well, look where we are,” Yoongi explains rhetorically. “Y/n’s here to have sex with seven different guys in close proximity. It seems some of the others have begun to get intimacy and romance in the equation.”

You pipe up, clutching the soft toy for comfort. “How am I supposed to reciprocate anything like that when I know I’m going to turn around and let six other guys have a go too?”

Yoongi winces at the wording. “Which is where my issue comes into play. I don’t want to think this way, like we’re all taking our turn with Y/n, because she’s not an object, but at the same time it’s hard to not feel that possessiveness.”

Jin nods, mulling it over for a few moments. “If it becomes a bigger problem, I think we’d be better off discussing it as eight, or however many of us are still in the house. It’s entirely natural to feel romantic inclinations, or possessive inclinations, or guilt over dealing with the two,” he directs the latter at you, “but of course conflict and guilt should be avoided, and in this situation we have to be careful that we monitor our emotions well. Y/n; what is your thought process when you begin to feel guilty?”

You bite your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard with a shrug. “I don’t know, it’s like… It feels wrong to act couple-y or seek out anything romantic with any of you guys because I know I can’t be loyal or commit to being exclusive. But I also can’t stop people from feeling that way. So I don’t know what to do. I’m like- I’m quite literally sleeping with the competition.”

“Okay,” Jin responds smoothly, nodding in thought. “Are you worried about feeling romantic inclinations for members in the house?”

“But then it wouldn’t be fair to the rest who are still trying to do their best in the game,” you point out.

The therapist just smiles softly. “That wasn’t the question I asked.”

Cheeks burning, you stare at the blanket underneath you. You can’t look at either of them. “…Not yet,” you admit honestly, “but honestly, yeah, I’m worried I might.” You glance up again, seeking out Jin’s gaze pleadingly, needing advice. “And what if I liked multiple people? Then they’d be directly competing against each other. It’s messy.”

“We don’t-” It’s Yoongi that speaks up, cutting himself off with a sigh. Jin nods at him to continue after he pauses in uncertainty. Yoongi scratches at his neck self-consciously. “I don’t think we’re all taking this insanely seriously and personally. Sometimes I walk in on Taehyung and Jungkook sharing porn, or Jin-hyung and Hoseok giggling away like two scheming toddlers as they try and make pancakes shaped like dicks.” Jin’s ears go flaming red at this, but he doesn’t interrupt. “We’re all well aware of how crazy this is. Yeah, maybe sometimes we feel a bit possessive over you, or competitive, but on a rational level we aren’t acting like we’re at war, you know? We don’t necessarily… have to be in direct competition.”

Jin gives him another moment in case he has anything else to add, before sending him an appreciative smile. “Very well said, Yoongi. I think as long as we’re all communicative when those issues like jealousy do arise, it won’t cause any major conflicts. Does that bring you any comfort, Y/n?”

You realise once he says your name that your eyes have stopped watering and your chest has stopped thudding so sickly. “Yeah,” you answer honestly, “it does. Thank you, guys. Though I guess- Well, even if you aren’t taking it as seriously as the Olympics, you are still competing against each other. Even if it’s just friendly fire, I’m still torn in the middle.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Yoongi shoots back earnestly.

“How does it not?” you question with a frown.

The two older men share a glance, Jin giving the slightest nod before Yoongi turns back to you. “Producer Sejin said it didn’t have to be one-on-one. If you’d like, we could show you that we can work together.”

“If you’d like,” Jin purrs, a hand reaching out to gently clasp your knee, “we could share.”

“Share me?” you ask weakly. The two of them nod, Yoongi looking nervous, Jin at-ease. “Yes, please.”

“So polite,” Jin says with a teasing smile. “Do you want to go give Yoongi a kiss for me, baby?”

Though it’s a command more than a question, you nod, and toss the stuffed toy aside, crawling forward, over Jin’s outstretched legs to where Yoongi sits, cross-legged like you were. A guiding hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in to straddle him, and you feel a thin bolt of excitement run up your core as Yoongi tilts his head back to look up at you, his honeyed locks falling to either side of his head. He’s beautiful, from this angle; lips so delicate and pink like a cherub, but with a blazing need swirling in his blown pupils. And though you can’t see him from this angle, Jin’s eyes feel like a hot brand on your back, making you shudder.

You link your wrists behind his neck and dip your head down, eyes slipping closed as you finally feel the pressure of his lips rising to greet you. Yoongi’s kisses are still soft and gentle, but the third presence in the room has lit a fire under the both of you, and each movement feels deeper, greedier.

Yoongi’s hand finds your ass as you make out, and he presses you in towards him, encouraging you to grind against him. Still in nothing more than Taehyung’s shirt and a pair of panties, you can feel him achingly hot and hard against you, stiff in the confines of his boxers.

Expecting to hear Jin speak up with praise or teasing words, you jump when instead it’s his hand sweeping back your hair that he begins with, collecting it in a handheld ponytail, tugging just slightly and exposing your neck. You let out a breathy moan into Yoongi’s mouth when you feel plush lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, fingers pushing the wide neck of Taehyung’s shirt to one side, exposing a shoulder. Jin methodically, languidly, places a chain of kisses down your throat and the top of your shoulder. Unlike Yoongi’s butterfly kisses, Jin’s touch is all teeth and tongue, making you feel dizzy with desire.

You whimper at the loss of Jin’s mouth on you, followed quickly by Yoongi pulling away, and your head spins. It’s only a moment, though, before you feel a set of hands finding the bottom of your shirt, the other set unlinking your arms from around Yoongi’s neck, holding them up so Jin can pull the fabric up and over your head, discarding it and running his palms on every inch of bare skin he can see.

Your head lolls back and eyes shut in bliss at the feeling of Jin’s slightly-rough palms stroking your hips, back, shoulders, and you feel him shuffle forward on his knees until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath on the nape of your neck. You bite your lip when he grips your hips, holding you steady.

Your breath catches in anticipation, and suddenly there’s a wet heat around your right nipple. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling of Yoongi’s mouth on you, tongue flicking endlessly over the stiffened peak. “Oh- oh god,” you gasp out, trying to grind your hips against him for some friction, but Jin’s hands hold you in place.

Jin shuffles closer again, and you feel a hand slip round to your front, pressing on your lower chest to pull you backwards, and you whine, not wanting to separate from Yoongi’s mouth, but he leans forward with you, sucking and lapping at your nipple as you fall back onto Jin’s chest, that same hand holding you steady against him as the other one traces lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

You jump when the tip of his finger first grazes against your clit, eyes opening to look down. Yoongi’s head takes up most of your vision, bobbing obscenely as he lavishes attention on your nipple, taking a moment to wet his fingers so he can flick and rub at your other one. Your chest heaves with his attention, pleasure so sharp it cuts into you. Below that, your legs are spread wide over Yoongi’s lap, your panties bulging with the presence of Jin’s hand. As you watch deliriously, he dips down and slips a finger deep inside you, the angle allowing him to grind the heel of his palm against your clit and stroke your g-spot from inside you at the same time.

You pant, toes curling when Yoongi switches nipples, his mouth enveloping your left peak and leaving the right one glossy with spit and reddened. It’s intoxicating, being between them like this, and you feel your hips begin to jerk against Jin’s hand as an orgasm builds surprisingly fast.

“Are you gonna cum like this?” Jin murmurs, and you nod hastily, choking on your ‘yes’ as Yoongi pulls away slightly, keeping your nipple trapped between his teeth so it’s tugged. “Fuck, she likes that,” Jin comments darkly, and you cry when he yanks at the hair in his hand again, pulling your head to one side so he can descend upon your neck, bites and sucks aggressive enough to make you feel like you’re being devoured.

Being pinned between two relentless sources of pleasure is enough to make your thighs tremble, and your first orgasm is almost silent, given away only by your rushed gasps and the sudden flood of wetness that coats Jin’s hand, the older man cursing as he strokes you harder, letting you ride out the high until you go lax. Post-orgasm, your nipples are too sensitive and you squeak, writhing under Yoongi’s ministrations until Jin pulls the hand from your panties and pushes Yoongi away with it.

Yoongi’s head comes up, and you moan gutturally at the fucked-out look in his eyes. Now that Jin’s hand isn’t in the way, you can again feel Yoongi’s hardness against your clothed core; he must’ve been able to feel Jin’s knuckles rubbing against him with your proximity. Jin’s hand is still hovering in the air between you and, keeping his eyes locked on yours, Yoongi leans in and captures two of Jin’s fingers in his mouth, lips pursed obscenely around the slightly crooked digits as he sucks your arousal off Jin’s hand, the older man groaning behind you as Yoongi thoroughly licks off every finger, swapping his gaze between you and Jin.

“Fuck,” you pant, “you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

Jin chuckles, pressing a final kiss to your neck, which you have no doubt will be covered in vibrant blossoms of colour in a few hours. “Let’s get these panties off, hm? If Yoongi gets any harder, he might run out of blood in his head and pass out on us.”

“Shut up,” the younger man grumbles, but once you get up off his lap he’s flinging his shirt off and pushing down his boxers, no self-consciousness as his flushed cock springs up and smacks against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters, letting Jin shuck off his own pyjamas before slipping down your panties, a hand lazily swiping over your wet heat.

“Turn around, baby,”‌ Jin commands softly. “Let Yoongi have you first.”

You swallow as you obey, shifting so that you’re facing Jin, back arched to present yourself to Yoongi. He curses lowly, but wastes no time in lining himself up, a palm on your ass to guide you down on his cock, stretching your walls in smooth increments. He gradually thrusts deeper and deeper, slow enough for you to adjust, until you feel him bottom out, less girthy than Jin or Taehyung but more curved inside you, making your mouth hang open.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Yoongi praises. “Fucking finally.”

You giggle at his desperation, but your grin is fucked from your face with a thrust that knocks you forward, face smacking on the mattress, a moan pulled from your lungs as he rolls his hips, grinding deeper.

“Poor baby,” Jin teases. “C’mere.” You whine as Yoongi stills inside of you, giving Jin a chance to lift you up under the arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders. Upper torso lifted, your hips are now at a different angle and you cry out when Yoongi begins to thrust again, the underside of his cock now dragging against your g-spot with every movement. Jin lets you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, weakly sucking a hickey into his neck to make him groan, his throat vibrating under your lips.

Soon, though, you don’t even have the energy to do that. As Yoongi picks up speed, you’re rocked violently between two hard bodies, drooling onto Jin’s neck as his hand snakes down to thumb at your clit. You cry out, shuddering as much as you can between them.

Yoongi curses and grips your hips when you clench around him, holding you still so he can increase his pace even more, a low moan rumbling in his throat. “I’m not gonna last long,” he warns. “Can I come inside you, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you cry, nails scratching at Jin’s bare shoulders as he swaps his thumb out for three fingers, rubbing them back and forth frantically in an effort to get you to cum. “Yes, fuck, I’m so close, don’t stop!”

This time, when you reach your high, you can’t stop moaning, the sound muffled by Jin’s shoulder as you’re pinned between the two men, Yoongi grunting as he spills, hot inside you.

You’re still riding the high of your orgasm when he pulls out, and your head spins, incoherent as you’re moved around, and before you know it, a thicker cock is being plunged into you, fucking you into oversensitivity.

As your orgasm fades, so does the fog in your mind and you become aware of the fact that the body you’re now propped up against is Yoongi, his hand in your hair and his teeth on your earlobe, tugging lightly and mumbling praises into your ear as Jin takes you from behind, filling the room with the sounds of skin impacting on skin. Unlike Yoongi’s slender, structured dick, Jin’s cock is a blunt instrument, hitting deep enough inside you that you feel him near your cervix.

“Tuh-too much,” you whine as Yoongi’s free hand snakes down, rubbing at your clit in a perfect mirror of your earlier position.

“Jin-hyung wants to feel you cum too, sweetheart,” Yoongi murmurs in your ear, voice dripping with honey, “don’t be selfish now.”

You keen, eyes tearing up at the excess sensation, Jin’s thrusts enough force to push Yoongi slightly too. Your hands curl around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough that he winces, but speeds up his fingers nonetheless, making you squeal. “I c-can’t,” you gasp, legs giving out.

Jin groans and you feel his arms snake under your hips, lifting you up and fucking you back onto his cock with every thrust forward. Your weight is held up by the two of them, tears streaming as you’re forcefully brought to your high a third time.

“Do we need to stop?” Yoongi asks lowly, and you feel Jin’s hips slow, Yoongi’s fingers sliding wetly over your lower stomach instead of your clit. The lack of sensation all of a sudden just makes you sob harder, shaking your head.

“Make me cum,” you plead shakily. “Wan- wanna cum for Seokjinnie.”

Behind you, Jin growls, his hands tightening, gripping handfuls of your hips as he starts up again. “Good girl,” he praises gruffly, “cum one more time for us.”

The time they stopped was apparently enough for your body to recover, because as he returns to his prior bruising pace and Yoongi strums roughly at your clit, the sting of overstimulation is gone, replaced by throbbing need. “Close, Yoongi,” you babble, writhing in the boys’ grip.

“That’s it, sweetheart, make a mess all over Jin-hyung’s cock.”

With that, you’re pitched into an orgasm so intense, it’s almost painful. You feel like your nerves are electric, making your limbs convulse. Unable to stop shaking, you clutch at Yoongi as Jin pulls out, giving your tired body reprieve. You whine when Yoongi leans you back, lying you down on the bed softly, and moments later, hot stripes of cum land on your heaving chest, Jin cursing under his breath.

The two of you gasp, unable to suck in enough breath to fill your thirsty lungs, but Yoongi, who came first, is already fully recovered. You shiver, letting out a groan as he leans down with a cat-like grin, lapping at the cum over your breasts.

“You’re fucking filthy,” Jin pants out, but continues to stroke himself slowly, managing to produce a few more drops of cum for Yoongi to lick up.

The blonde-haired boy leaves your nipples for last, grinning around each peak as you whimper, clutching his hair. Finally, once he’s done, he lifts his face up and kisses you once, deeply, so that you can taste yourself and Jin on his tongue.

“Holy fucking shit,” you exclaim breathlessly, “this show is going to kill me.”

Apparently back to his normal self, Jin pats your cheek teasingly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

You roll your head to the side, partly to escape his hand and partly to glance at the clock on his nightstand. Seven in the morning. You swear. “Fine, it may not kill me but it’ll definitely obliterate my sleep schedule.”

Jin considers this. “Fair,” he concedes. “If it helps, I’ll wake you up in a few hours so you can just call it a nap. And then we can all have a shower.”

“I am not waiting a couple hours to have a shower, thank you very much,” Yoongi huffs, pushing himself up to stand. “I have to brush my fucking teeth.”

“Hey!” the two of you cry in unison.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but a grin tugs at his lips nonetheless. “You should just be grateful I cleaned you up.”

Jin stares as Yoongi hastily slips back into his discarded pyjamas. “I’ll be sure to call you over next time I masturbate, then.”

Yoongi shoots him a dirty look. “Thanks for the fuck and the counselling,” he spits before darting out the door, slamming it behind him decisively.

Jin lets out a dramatic exhale, throwing himself on the bed so he’s lying beside you. “Men these days,” he muses sadly. “Lick up your cum once then act like they don’t know you.”

Despite your bone-deep exhaustion, you snicker along with him, feeling lighter than a cloud. “Thank you,” you say after the laughter dies down.

“For the…the sex or the counselling?”

You turn your head, glancing at him sidelong. “Would it be bad if I said just the sex?”

“Hey!”

“For both, Seokjinnie,” you say with a smile. “And for everything else, too.”

“Like what?” he asks suspiciously, chest puffing in anticipation of praise.

You hum happily, wriggling until you feel comfortable and your eyes slip shut. “Thank you for letting me nap in your bed.”

Jin huffs, but after a few moments, you feel him shift, leaning over you so he can flip the bottom edge of the duvet up and cover you. “Sleep well, little one.”

—

True to word, Jin wakes you shortly before midday, and makes sure the coast is clear so you can stumble across the hall to your room. Taehyung has luckily left by then, though a pool of bubbles rest in the tub. You try not to let the pang in your heart get to you, choosing to shower instead.

With Jin having kept you company, it’s Yoongi who’s manning the kitchen, running it like a military camp.

Taking mercy on your exhausted body, Yoongi lets you sit on the couch, watching their antics from the comfort of the soft leather.

“What the fuck are you doing with that grater, Namjoon?”

You grin at the bewildered look on Namjoon’s face as he looks up at his elder, holding a box grater with both hands as a potato wobbles on the bench beneath it. “You said to grate the potato,” the academic defends weakly.

“You- I-” Yoongi splutters, abandoning the pan he’s heating up to go snatch the metal contraption off Namjoon. “You rest it on the table like this, and then grate the potato against it. Please hurry; we need three big ones to go into the batter mix for the pancakes.”

To the left, both Jungkook and Taehyung are on drink duty, hovering over a sleek shiny machine on the countertop like apes discovering fire.

“Woah, hyung, the water comes from there,” Jungkook gasps, poking at a canister behind the machine. “And then you put the pod in and it becomes coffee. Isn’t that magic?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, leaning in so his face is directly in front of the machine, where a steady stream of coffee fills a cup below. “But how did it get the coffee out of the pod? Does the machine open it?”

“Maybe it dissolves,” Jungkook muses, and the two coo at it, staring in wonder as the stream tapers off.

“Let’s do another,” Taehyung cheers excitedly, the two boys jumping in unison when Yoongi calls out.

“You’ve made ten cups,” Yoongi snaps, wrist flicking gracefully as he flips a small potato-and-zucchini pancake in the pan. “There are only eight of us, and you don’t even know who likes to drink coffee.”

“I’ll drink them, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook pouts, eyes wide like a doe.

“You’re one of the ones that doesn’t drink- Nevermind, fine, go ahead.” He turns back to his pan, slipping the pancake out onto a paper towel and pours more batter in.

Amongst the chaos, almost blending into the stainless steel refrigerator with his steel grey sweater, Jimin watches a pot of ramen with a desolate expression.

By the time Jin comes down and Hoseok returns from his stint in the confessional booth, the rest of you are at the table, fingers itching from the urge to dig in. They wash their hands quickly and join you at the table, allowing the food to be doled out onto plates and the conversation to flow again.

Sitting between Jungkook and Jimin, you take a sip of your second cup of coffee, courtesy of the drinks crew. Since most of them had gone cold by the time the coffee-drinkers finished their first cup, Jimin had taken the initiative to add ice and some milk to one, enjoying it as a cafe au lait, and you’d all followed suit, enjoying a refreshing drink with a hot lunch.

“How’s your week been going?” Jimin asks, and you’d be shocked at the small talk were it not for the intense look in his eyes. He’s feeling you out, appraising you just like yesterday with Taehyung.

You sit your drink back on its coaster, leaning back and letting your eyes wander over the other participants. “Eventful,” you say rhetorically, sending a grin over at him as his mouth twitches down, unimpressed. “Sorry, that’s a no-brainer. A lot of them so far have really surprised me.”

“Who?” he questions, and you can’t help but hold back a sigh. He frowns, surprised at your sullen reaction.

“Listen, Jimin,” you say slowly, appreciating the bubbly chatter that keeps your conversation private, “I appreciate your dedication to this, but we don’t always have to talk sex and competition, you know? Can we have a genuine conversation? I really want to get to know you.”

His eyes drop, face falling. It’s the first sign of what’s behind the facade, and you want to see more. When he looks up again, he’s sporting a rueful smile and you marvel at how boyish his face looks, how innocent. “Sorry. Work-mode. I think I’m… I’m starting to realise that I maybe don’t have to be on all the time. At least, not around you guys.” His eye twinkles. “I’m sure I’ll slip up from time to time and go back into it. Feel free to tell me if I’m being an asshole.”

You mock-pout, letting out a whine. “Well, I can’t say it now, because you’re not being an asshole.”

“Save it for a rainy day, then,” he remarks coolly, and you’d think he was back in his persona again were it not for the grin still on his face.

“Looks like we’ll be getting one soon enough,” you muse. “Namjoon says it’s raining all weekend.”

Jimin laughs, and the sound is like the tinkling of wind-chimes, airy and melodic. “I’m sure Namjoon isn’t too happy about that.”

“No, he seemed pretty-” You cut yourself off, staring hard at Jimin. “Why do you say it like that? Is his prompt the pool or something?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Well, you better hurry up, then,” you quip, “because Yoongi just plead the fourth.”

Jimin’s mouth drops open. “Normally I’m the one making clever entendres. I’m impressed.”

“So was he.”

When Jimin laughs this time, it’s loud enough to catch the attention of the table, everyone’s conversation halts, six sets of wide eyes on the intimidating Park Jimin, cheeks plumped and eyes crinkled as he positively giggles, freezing once he notices the attention.

“Goodness,” Jin remarks, “four days in and you’ve already broken him. He’ll be a sub by Week Three.”

Like a switch had been pulled, Jimin straightens his spine, head tilting to the side so he can level a piercing stare at his elder. “If I were you, I wouldn’t assume you’d still be there to see it.”

The table goes quiet in shock, waiting for Jin’s reaction. He simply shrugs and laughs softly, unruffled by the peacock show. “If I get voted off I can easily watch from home, Jimin. Maybe send in a question for the confessional. I bet you’d miss me.”

Like he’s realised Jin isn’t going to attack him, Jimin relaxes, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. “I’m not sure about you, but I’d definitely miss your excellent cooking.”

Jin’s ears go pink with the praise but from the head of the table, Yoongi’s mouth drops open, chopsticks going slack in his grasp. “Hey, you little brat, I’m the one that made this lunch for you all. Aren’t you gonna miss me?”

“Oh, that’s because you won’t go home before Week 3,” Jimin answers without missing the beat, a sugar-sweet smile on his rosy lips.

Yoongi’s mouth moves, but he has nothing to grumble about. Jimin 1, Yoongi 0. “Of course, I won’t,” he huffs quietly, stuffing his face with a chunk of fried pancake.

The conversation trickles back in, then, and Taehyung pulls you and Jimin into a discussion about a stray dog he’d seen wandering around, and as the eight of you sit around the table chatting long after your plates are empty, your chest feels lighter than ever.

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aconstantstateofbladerunner · 4 years

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101 Open MHA Gen Prompts

I had a very long ask game where people gave me fake titles and I came up with fic ideas to go with them. Multiple people asked to use some of them as prompts, and some of my friends have lately maligned the lack of gen prompts out there, so I decided to compile them all into a single post. Almost all of these are gen, aka not shipping, but you can do what you want I’m not your boss. Everything is free and open to use WITH CREDIT, so have fun with my word vomit.

1. In Dreams I Had the Sun - Being the number one hero isn’t all it’a cracked up to be, Toshinori realizes early on

2. The Chainlink Fence that Held the Ocean - In his new book post-retirement, All Might opens up about his regrets, struggles with mental health, and his issues with the hero system as a whole. The backlash is swift and intense.

3. Welcome to the Loud Silence - After an injury, Izuku is rendered deaf.

4. Water Since Turned Red - After a villain attack nearly kills All Might, the beach where Izuku used to go to find comfort now feels tainted.

5. all scrap left untouched is bound together - A group hero students who failed the provincial license exam for the third time, effectively ending their careers before they start, get together to take revenge on UA’s first years who beat them out.

6. You’ve saved more more times than you know - Times All Might saved people without his powers, just by being a cool, nice dude.

7. No Amount of Tragedy Can Justify Your Actions - A dying All for One tries to justify his centuries of cruelty to an uncaring Toshinori.

8. To Leave a Cage Locked - One for All is conscious and has a will of its own, one that doesn’t always line up with Izuku’s wellbeing.

9. Okay, who let in the Kraken? - Izuku is the reincarnation of an ancient eldritch horror.

10. keep us alive up above - Izuku and Shigaraki get trapped together somewhere. Izuku knows he needs the villain’s help to survive and escape, but the other would rather they both die.

11. The world will revolve around me neither less - The ebbs and flows of AFO’s influence over the years.

12. More Roulette, Not Russian - Kids get their quirks swapped.

13. Patron Saints - Toshinori teaches a class about pre-quirk superhero comic characters and their influence.

14. Don't Come Back - Touya Todoroki’s first few weeks after a severe injury resulted in his father abandoning him.

15. The Blessed and the Fool - Toshinori meets up with a few of his ua classmates after retiring.

16. Not Your Sacrifice - Some of the other kids have started adopting some of Izuku’s self sacrificing habits and the teachers are concerned.

17. Break in the Storm - Villains use a power outage as an opening to break into ua.

18. One Day Those Consequences Will Finally Catch Up - Even though the teachers don’t take her concerns seriously, Inko saves every piece of evidence regarding people hurting her son.

19. a garden in their eyes - Izuku meets a fan who got injured after trying to step into a villain fight, just like he did, and it makes him question some things.

20. what could have been, if not for you - After Inko divorces him, Hisashi’s goes to the press to say All Might stole his wife and son.

21. Promised Misery - All Might finds out the severity of Bakugou’s bullying, and warns him he’s on thin ice with him.

22. Fly Up Higher, Blossom Brighter - Izuku has to write a paper for middle school about being positive, intercut with all the bullshit he has to deal with.

23. Libre Me from Hell - One of Izuku’s new quirks is spiral related.

24. No One to Blame but Yourself - Izuku’s kindness doesn’t extend to murderers, tragic backstory or not.

25. At Its Finest - Izuku accidentally gets involved in a hero commission coverup.

26. A Rising Issue - Izuku starts developing more severe side effects of his injuries. He’s convinced he’s under the influence of a quirk, while the adults thing he’s finally gone too far hurting himself.

27. What you are in the Dark - Izuku usually keeps most of his anger to himself until he can’t.

28. nowhere to go - Inko moves into UA after their home was destroyed.

29. Something Without - My theory about the 2 OFA vestiges that are blurred out is they don’t approve of izuku as a successor. Izuku tries to figure out why.

30. Walking with a Ghost - Toshinori joins the OFA dreams while he’s in a coma. He gets to reunite with nana, and is more open to Izuku about his past and feelings. Part of his starts to wonder if it’s worth waking up, since he will die and join the others eventually.

31. Death By Crying - Izuku is affected by a quirk that will suffocate him if he expresses any emotion.

32. Justice is Subjective - The hero commission gets to Shigaraki before AFO does.

33. Undo / Underdog - Death loop fic. Izuku keeps reliving the day he met all might after being killed by the sludge villain. he has to find a way to break the loop and survive, but he gets s little weaker every time he restarts.

34. Like Wildfire - A rumor that Izuku is All Might’s bio son picks up steam, and the characters have to decide whether to deny it but risk suspicion or play along and add a new layer to the lies protecting one for all.

35. Once Upon A December - All Might and Inko actually met in the past trope.

36. Some Legends Are Told - All Might’s first interview post-retirement.

37. Will The Real Mentor Please Stand Up - Aizawa considers himself the better teacher, but a lot of the kids seem to like All Might more.

38. I don't want the cure, I want the POISON! - Inko is killed in a hit and run, and Izuku becomes desperate to find the killer.

39. I will kill my heart before I dance on stage for these bigots - Izuku is interviewed as a rising star of UA, and the interviewer brings in some of his old bullies because they claimed to be his friends from middle school. Izuku does not play along.

40. Split Ends - A quirk gives Izuku brief visions of what would have happened if he made different decisions.

41. Dreamless Sleep - A One for All dream leaves Izuku with a cryptic half-warning, and he desperately experiments to try and figure out how to trigger the visions to get the rest of it.

42. toxic flowers and pretty blades - Young Inko escapes the constricting life of her cruel wealthy family by becoming a vigilante.

43. The Suns we Orbit - Some of the other teachers believe Izuku is too codependent on Toshinori, and separate them for a time.

44. Submerged - Similar to those buried alive fics only someone’s in a box at the bottom of the ocean.

45. Deprive - Izuku also loses his stomach to an injury, and struggles to adjust to the necessary lifestyle changes.

46. The ashes fall like snow - Post Kamino cleanup.

47. Home will always be here - Inko cares for Izuku after he’s sent home due to “trouble at work study” but he refuses to clarify what that means.

48. Playing Favorites - A look at several times where Izuku was punished, while Bakugou got off scot free.

49. Elusive Dreams - Some kind of training or issue forces the kids to stay away for several consecutive day, and they start losing it.

50. Fracture - Izuku struggles through physical therapy after a severe injury that leaves his hero career in question.

51. Starlight, Starbright - Space cadet au

52. Someone in Your Corner - Gran Torino looking after Nana, Toshi, and finally Izuku through the years.

53. I cast magic missile into the darkness - Generic “the gang plays d&d” fic.

54. One Month At A Time - Izuku breaks a limb, and has to let in heal naturally over the course of several months.

55. Head Above Water - Izuku runs out of his pain meds and can’t get access to more doses for a while, so he has to endure not only the pain, but the withdrawal symptoms.

56. Are you going to leave a path to trace - All Might uses a new strategy to try and get Izuku to be less self sacrificial: what about all the young kids who are going to look up to him?

57. The View from Halfway Down - Izuku realizes that a risky move has just landed him with a potentially life threatening injury, but the fight it still going.

58. The Dust Bites Back - A villain All Might defeated early in his career is back and out for revenge.

59. The Absence of your Worth - Nighteye thinks he’s put together a rock solid case for why izuku isn’t worthy of One for All. All Might’s response is to ask if he has something against quirkless people.

60. Behind the Screens Nobody is Afraid - All Might explains some of the context of his most popular hero videos to Izuku. They are much more tragic than the media has spun them in hindsight.

61. Under the Light of the Moon - Someone gets turned into a werewolf. And I ain’t talking the wattpad piss shit. I’m talking full-on back-breaking monstrous transformations into a bloodthirsty abomination set to Bad Moon Rising.

62. some dreams were made to be broken - Bakugou crosses a line and finally gets expelled.

63. You Say You're Into Closure - Izuku finally beats Bakugou in a one on one fight fair and square, but Bakugou is a sore loser.

64. Something or Someone Missing - AU’s memories of Izuku get wiped, but those closest to him can’t help but feel an absence.

65. Too Little Too Late - Izuku’s father returns to find he’s been replaced.

66. Collecting Dust - Inko goes through the stuff Izuku didn’t take to the dorms.

67. Where the souls of wanderers go - Toshi meets up with a retired hero support group.

68. Fragility of Trust - Suspected traitor au

69. no one answered - Izuku is trapped in a cell in a building that’s collapsing in slow motion due to a quirk.

70. Eye of the Storm - One of the other kids has a panic attack for the first time between public appearances. izuku has never seen from from the outside.

71. To Whom It May Concern - The kids find a mysterious collection of letters from previous students hidden in the ceiling of the classroom. Some are ominous, some are incomprehensible. Aizawa has no answers. They enthusiastically go to try and solve the mystery within, but that excitement quickly diminishes the more they find out.

72. Of Popsicles and Ponytails - All Might gets in a discussion with the other teachers about whether the Clark Kent glasses thing would actually work. All Might bets them it does, so he goes around town with no disguise other than his hair being up, and no one bats an eye.

73. All Men are Not Born Equal - Word gets out to the public that izuku used to be quirkless. Everyone finds out just how deep anti-quirkless sentiments run when some begin to question whether a quirkless kid should be at ua, regardless of whether or not he has a quirk now.

74. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies - Something about encountering death in person for the first time being the dividing line between child and adult.

75. Sins of the Father - All for One has had many children over the centuries, and has made numerous attempts to groom them into the ideal heir with several different methods. None of them worked though.

76. Where The Dead Come To Rest - The kids come home after a long, grueling mission where they saw some shit, and are too tired to process what they went through. They take off their gear for plain clothes, then sit in the common room in silence long into the night, not wanting to open themselves up but also not wanting to be alone.

77. Rivalry - Nighteye tries to pit Izuku and Mirio against one another. It goes right over Mirio’s head, but Izuku becomes convinced the other boy is in on Nighteye’s plan to wear him down until he gives up One for All.

78. A Subtle Language - All Might and Nana never said out loud that they loved each other, but little things told them that they did. All Might hopes to pass a similar love down to his own successor. But Izuku is very different than himself as a kid, and he needs to learn a new subtle language of affection.

79. It’s Gone - One for All stops working one day.

80. A Sight For Sore Eyes - All Might looking after Izuku in the aftermath of the second movie.

81. Loose Lips (sink ships) - Bakugou blurts out something about One for All during a rage, so the rest of the class jump on him and Izuku for answers.

82. No Expectations - Word gets out that All Might is going to choose a successor. None of the theories or speculation online resemble Izuku in the slightest.

83. Eden was Only a Garden - Izuku gets hit with a quirk that erases some of his most traumatic memories, but in doing so loses part of who he is.

84. Run it Down - With all Izuku’s new quirks and his incredible skill, some of the other students with similar powers (Iida, Sero, Uraraka) start to feel like izuku is upstaging them. And it affects their friendship.

85. Fool's Gold - Bakugou grows even more jealous of Izuku having One for All, and his relationship with All Might. He thinks that if he could just prove himself to be more worthy, All Might would change his mind and name him his successor. But in reality, he ends up jeopardizing the relationship they already have.

86. somewhere down the road - The final deadline for Nighteye’s predictions passes, and All Might lives. He debates telling Izuku, as even though it would be a weight off the boy’s mind, he doesn’t want to jinx it. He will still die eventually after all.

87. Just For You - All Might has certain rules and boundaries for fan interactions that he completely ignores for Izuku.

88. if these walls could talk (their whispers would be maddening) - Montage of training accidents in a ‘cursed’ ua gym

89. If Only I Could... - Nighteye tells Mirio about One for All, including that he thinks he’s more deserving than Izuku and he plans to pressure him into giving it up. Mirio struggles with the knowledge that his mentor, someone he respected more than anything, only saw him as a replacement for All Might, meanwhile watching Izuku strain under the pressure of that mentor’s impossible expectations.

90. This is a Test Designed to Provoke an Emotional Response - shameless Blade Runner AU

91. Once and for All - Retelling of the Superman story “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?” with All Might. Some new heroes use much more aggressive and violent tactics against villains while also upstaging All Might. That, and there general approval from the public cause All Might to question his moral code.

92. Sitting In The Rain - Tsuyu likes to just sit out in the rain sometimes. Not do anything, just sit there. Some friends decide to join her.

93. At Sundown - Mysterious creatures start attacking ua every night. The gang works tirelessly during the day to find the cause and a solution, while defending their school and each other at night.

94. The 1000th time's the charm - Uraraka has been practicing a new move in secret but they just can’t get it right. She wants it to be perfect before showing it off. But one attempt gets her seriously hurt while training alone at night in one of the gyms, and she’s too hurt to get up to the phone to call for help.

95. Sunflower Seeds - All Might attempts to start a garden as a new hobby.

96. What It Means To Be Human - Sun god Toshi starts living among people.

97. Eyes on Me - All Might teaches Izuku some unarmed fighting moves to defend himself from bullies.

98. one remains - Izuku has developed all but one of the quirks he’s slated to, and he has no idea what it will be. Anxiety ensues.

99. Come Back Home - Izuku vanishes from campus and everyone assumes he was kidnapped, but in reality he ran away to try and clear his head after a depressive spiral. He goes by train as far away as he can until he comes to his senses and calls the others.

100. I Won - Izuku accidentally managed to kill Shigaraki during a skirmish, and while everyone around him praises his heroics, he struggles to deal with the fact that he killed someone.

101. Ivory Tower - All Might grapples with how much izuku suffered as a quirkless person, how he could have done more for quirkless rights in his time as a hero, and how now people may not care as much because he’s retired.

Reminder to credit me if you use any of these prompts, and a special thanks to everyone who submitted titles!

#mha #bnha #mha prompts #bnha prompts #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dad might #all might #toshinori yagi #midoriya izuku #deku #bakugou katsuki #aconstantstateoffanfiction

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waynewifey · 3 years

Text

Fading away. —

Pairing: Jason Grace x Roman!DaughterofPluto!Reader

Sumary: after moths of over working, a colapse makes you get into a coma and reflect on your feelings.

Warnings: coma, angst, Pluto as a caring dad, fluff at the end.

Words: +-3k.

A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson Franchise fanfiction, so take it easy on me. This is also my biggest and favourite one. I hope you like this! My requests are always open.

(Y/N) (L/N) had a good reason to hate Jason Grace. How could she not? Jason was so annoying, self centred, selfish, stubborn and worse of all? He dated Piper McLean. Piper was great, (Y/N) knew that and they seemed happy together. But, still, he chose Piper, not (Y/N), his girlfriend back at Camp Jupiter, who he totally forgot about. How come Percy remembered Annabeth but Jason wouldn't remember (Y/N)? And when he recovered his memory, he chose Piper. But she also loved him still, and seeing him hurt like a bullet going straight through her heart. She decided to spend a year at Half-Blood Camp to stay with her half-brother Nico Di Angelo when Gaea were defeated. She thought she could manage to see him almost every day, but she couldn't. So she started doing anything to get her mind occupied. Going on meaningless quests, travelling to New York randomly, volunteering for literally any service in the camp and barely sleeping — because sleeping meant dreams.

"It doesn't have to be like that, (Y/N)." Her brother gave her another shot of Nectar. The sunlight that entered Hades' cabin was leaving slowly as they talked, (Y/N) leaned on her bed watching her fingertips become solid again.

"I'll learn how to do it right and I promise I won't push myself too much, but I can't stop practicing." She avoided eye contact with Nico, feeling ashamed of herself. After all, she was supposed to be the one taking care of him, since she was older. She came back from a "quest" for her father, that was staying a weekend on the Underworld. She started using Shadow Travel to get there. The problem? She had no idea how hard it was, and she almost died every time. He sighted.

"I'm not talking about Shadow Travel. You should talk to Jason and sort this out. You're almost killing yourself everyday doing the craziest stuff just to keep your mind off him. He already broke up with Piper, what's stopping you now? I'm your brother and it pains me to see you suffering, I won't just sit and watch while you literally desapear." He got up and walked to the door. The (h/c) girl forced a smile so he believed she was fine. Nico left the cabin.

After hours reflecting and thinking, she heard the trumpets that announced the convocation to a game of Capture the Flag. Since she was feeling better, she changed her clothes and walked outside. The teams were: cabins 1, 4, 5, 9, 12, 14, 18, 21, 23, 27, 28, 29 vs. cabins 2, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 20, 24, 25, 26. They started the game. (Y/N) had to protect the boundary with a kid from Hipnos' cabin while a group attacked the opponent's flag and another protected their territory and their flag. Everything was going as planned, she hadn't seen anyone yet. Out of the sudden, she saw a blond guy running in their direction with a sword. Oh hell no, Jason Grace wouldn't attack her like that. But he did.

"What the hell?!" She screamed, reacting to the blade flying in her direction. Her teammate was asleep. She defended herself with her own sword and counterattacked. He invested against her leg, trying to make her fall. Her instincts took place, she jumped, attacked again and they started a meaningless battle. Jason looked the same as always. He was almost the same Jason that used to take her on cute dates in New Rome. But he fought like a greek. And that was when it hit her, he changed. The mixture of love and hate made her loose her senses for a bit, giving Jason the lead. He focused on her leg but hesitated to hit it, giving her time to get back on the fight. She knocked him to the floor, her foot on his chest and her blade on his neck, when she heard footsteps approaching quickly. Of course. It was a trap. She turned around and saw a son of Hebe holding her team's flag running, followed by two daughters of Hephaestus. She grabbed a knife from her belt and threw it to his leg, hitting exactly where she wanted. She then grabbed Jason's blade and Shadow Travelled. For a moment everything was fine, while she drowned into darkness, but then she couldn't get out. She saw her father's face mixed in the dark. He raised his hand and touched her face, than she was back at the forest. Realising not even a second had gone through, she attacked the — injured — boy and the two gigantic girls at the same time. She wasn't really expecting to defeat them, just trying to win some time so, hopefully, someone would come help her. The boy dropped the flag and got a small sword. The two girls had hammers... oh. The three of them attacked at the same time and she protected herself with Jason's sword, which flew away. She was out of hopes when a figure appeared beside her and started fighting them.

"What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to help me, we're enemies, remember?" She said, fighting Hebe's son.

"I guess you're welcome then." Jason replied smiling, fighting the hammers-girls. (Y/N) sighted in annoyance. Seconds later, her teammates came running from the enemies' territory with a flag and the three-people group surrendered. Everyone started screaming and celebrating. (Y/N)'s head hurt with the noise and she looked to her brother, feeling numb.

"Hey, can we talk?" Jason said, getting in front of her with a big smile. He was proud of himself for helping her? Of course he was. He was going to take all the credit for her team's win. The anger rose inside of her burning everything. She furrowed her eyebrows and with the last energy that remained in her body, she tried to Shadow Travel for the perhaps hundredth time that day.

She fell into the darkness while feeling her body desapear quickly. Her heart was very accelerated but then it stopped. She saw herself at the barks of Lete's river. I'm dead., she thought. The desperation started taking over. She remembered the face of all her friends. Her siblings, Hazel and Nico. Her mother. Her best friend Reyna. Camp Jupiter. New Rome. The Lar Vitellius. Lares? Lares! Maybe she could go back as a ghost! She would at least see her friends again.

"Didn't expect to see you this soon." A voice said with humor. She turned around, as always enlighten by her father's presence. But his face was sad. Not the everyday-sad-Pluto, but the my-daughter-just-died-sad-Pluto.

"Am I d-... dead?" The anxiety forbid her from crying in front of her father. The one she never knew and once she did, she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Yes and no. You see, my darling, there are things more powerful then death. Right now, your physical being is exhausted from travelling through darkness and light — which I told you not to, but we'll talk about this later, you have a decision to make. You're body is surrendering to Death out of hopelessness. But your soul, on the other hand, still fights for the heart beating in your chest. And your conscious, the controller of both body and soul, has to decide which one of them you'll support right now. As Lord of the Death that's all I can say to you. But as your father, I would like to say that we have a room for you in the castle, if you'd like that. And also, I feel obligated to show you what is happening on Earth." When he finished his words, an image formed in the air, sort of an Iris message, but no one saw them. (Y/N) saw herself laying on the grass, surrounded by some campers, Nico and Jason.

She was watching them from above. Jason put two fingers on her neck, trying to feel her pulse. She — the one in the Underworld — gasped as the blond boy whispered 'nothing'. She glanced at her father, who had a pained expression as he stared at Nico freaking out. Her brother had his hands on her chest and was murmuring something in greek. Then, he opened his eyes, filled with tears of desperation, and glanced at Jason, who didn't look any better. She wanted to scream and go back to up there, but her voice wouldn't come out of her throat.

"Half of her is already gone." Nico struggled to say. Everyone around gasped. "I can't Shadow Travel with her, it- it would k-kill the other half..."

"Let's take her to the Infirmary. Everything's gonna be fine. She'll be okay." Will Solace had appeared in the crowd and kneed down to take (Y/N) in the arms, being helped by the other two. As they walked, (Y/N) held herself in her arms, sobbing. She didn't want to die, not like that. The image faded away and Pluto hugged her. He never did that before. She left out all her emotions through the cry. Her father caressed her back and gently kissed the top of her head.

"Now you see, my child, what those on Earth are going through. You have a family up there. And if you'd ask me, Jason Grace is a good person, even being a son of my brother. You have a choice, so make it wisely." Pluto said, not backing away from the hug. She nodded and he immediately knew what her choice was. "You know I'd love to have you here with me, but I'd love even more to see you happy. Don't be reckless. And listen to your brother. You don't have to worry to come see me, I'll make sure to visit you during your recovery." As he said that, a white door appeared out of nowhere. "Here's your carpool." The girl started to walk to the door, when she heard Pluto say: "(Y/N) I lo-... Good luck." She smiled to him and went through into the door. It felt like eons in the nothingness. She felt so much pain all over her body. Then she gained conscience. She didn't knew how long it had passed. She also couldn't open her eyes or say anything, but she knew she was laying down something comfortable, a bed, perhaps. But she could hear perfectly well.

"... and I'm so sorry you had to die for me to gain the courage to say this. Please come back to us... Come back to me. Nico barely leaves this room and nor do I, Will had to force him to go eat. It's not the same without you, (Y/N/N), it really isn't." Jason's words gave her the urge to cry, but she couldn't. It was like her body had shutdown completely. She felt his warm hands on her cold ones and after that, a door was opened. Footsteps. Only one person. Jason didn't move. Someone sat down next to them.

"Dad- I mean, Hades said she will be okay." It was Nico's voice. He sounded extremely tired.

"Didn't he say that last month?" Grace was annoyed, but he didn't stop holding her hand.

"I know, I wish I could do more... I'm... I'm sorry Jason." The blond sighted.

"I should be the one to be saying that. I know there's nothing else to do. I'm sorry for putting the blame on you. It's just- if we've talked before, nothing of this would have happened. If only I was brave enough..." (Y/N) felt weak and her consciousness was back at nothing again. When she heard something again, it looked like a lot of time had passed by, but she wasn't sure at all. Jason's voice was happy as he told her his plans to the future.

"I realised you would like to work with me training the legion. You're obviously skilled and the payment is quite good. And I've heard they are planning to build a village here as well, but I don't know if you-..." Every time she tried to stay conscious, she felt weaker. 'Rest', her father's voice said inside of her head, so she let herself.

Some time...? A long time...? She didn't knew. But the next time she heard, she was way stronger. She waited until then, so she could stay longer and try to understand her emotions. She heard almost an entire day. Her friends entered and left cabin 13 — she found out that she was there. Some of them talked "to" her, some just sat there in silence. When alone, Nico talked a lot about Will Solace. (Y/N) smiled mentally. Then Jason entered. She could already recognise the sound he made walking. He sat beside her bed and held her hand, as usual.

"Hello, princess. You look better." She reunited all the strength she had storage and sent it all to her right hand. She softly squeezed Jason's hand, for a small portion of second, trying to say 'hi'. She felt exhausted. He gasped.

"She just squeezed my hand!" He screamed, laughing. Nico jumped out of his bed, laughing as well. They both stared at her, waiting for more. "You're there, right? I knew you were! It's been long months, but you're getting better. Don't work too hard. We'll see each other soon, don't worry." He kissed her forehead. After that, it was easy for her to let go and dive into her sleep again.

She was slowly getting better. She noticed her comas were smaller now, and she got stronger every time. She started communicating by squeezing people's hand. One time for 'yes' and two times for 'no'. But it still was exhausting. She met with her father a couple times through dreams, but it never lasted long. She was sick of it. She wanted to jump out of the bed and run through all the camp. She was alone with Jason, as he talked about the last time he went to Camp Jupiter, telling every change. She slowly forced herself to open her eyes. It wasn't for too long, just enough for her to see the big smile he had while talking, her favourite blond hair and how he gesticulated while speaking. By that time, her feelings were completely lined. She declined her childishness and stubbornness to accept the fact that she obviously loved him. Her lips were able to form a small smile. He hadn't noticed her yet. I can do this, she thought.

"J." She whispered for the first time in five months. Her eyes were already closed again. He gasped.

"Did you just say J? That's me! I'm here, i'm right here, love. Can you hear me?" She squeezed his hand one time. Yes. He chortled. "You're so strong. I miss you so much." He started softly crying. She squeezed his hand two times. No. Don't cry, she wanted to say. "Alright, 's fine, 's fine. Gods, you're coming back. I bet Aphrodite is watching us closely." He chuckled but suddenly stopped. "I forgot we haven't talked about that yet, i'm sorry. I don't wanna be intrusive, you know. It's just, by what Nico has told me, well, you still liked me." She squeezed two times. "That's... that's great, love. But don't worry about that just yet. You should take some rest now, my love."

Five days. She had woken up every single one of them, but only listening. No squeezes, no talking, no looking. Just storing strength. She knew she was close to fully waking up. She was already able to keep track of the days. It was a Sunday, the day she received the most visits. It should be morning, because she only heard Nico's snorting. She slowly opened her eyes. The same place. Different clothes. She wondered who had changed them. Perhaps Will did. She systematically moved her arms, pushing herself to sit. Her back was laying at wall. She took a deep breath. It was going fine. She wanted to wake Nico up, but she decided to wait to see if she would be able to actually stay awake. About an hour later, Nico woke up by himself. He yawned and turned to her bed. She looked at him with a big smile. He jumped out of bed.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)! You're up! How- Wait! I need to- Wait! Don't fall asleep, I'll be right back!" She blinked slowly to sign 'ok'. He was back moments running later with a bunch of teenagers in pyjamas. They all froze at the door, staring at her. Hazel, Frank, Annabeth, Percy, Jason and even Piper. Hazel was the first one to wake up from the trance. She ran to her sister and hugged (Y/N).

"Ouch." She managed to say, reacting to the tight hug that made her head hurt.

"Right, sorry! I forgot. Wait, you speak!" Hazel answered and laughed. All of the others joined in, amazed by her friend, and started talking, telling everything she had missed. (Y/N) couldn't speed properly, only a few words like 'hi', 'ow', 'miss' and 'food'. Later that day, Will came to check on her. He said everything looked just fine, but that she should rest.

"Hey." Zeus' son said, once they were alone.

"Hi."

"Gods, it's so good to finally hear you again. I've talked to myself for a long time." They giggled softly. (Y/N) wasn't showing any signs of it, but that day had been extremely tiring. Her entire body hurt but she couldn't give up just yet.

"I... heard." She whispered. "A bit." Her eyes tried to close but she opened them wide, fighting her own nature. Jason noticed that.

"Hey, no need to over do it.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"Sleep... here." She begged, placing her hand beside her. He froze for a moment, embarrassed. And then, with a rubor across his face, he sat on the bed beside her. She laid her head on his chest and quickly fell asleep.

“Go to sleep, love. We have all the time in the world.”

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #fluff imagine #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fanfiction #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jasonissocutehelp #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #daughter of hades #pls send requests

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