#let's stop pretending the Blues would all just be pretty much alike with with one or two minor changes

[duskamethyst]

playing with fire.

a/n: sooo this is my take on the racer!AU. i’ve spent some time watching movies about car racing to get a grasp on the whole scene so i hope i executed this well enough. i also used some terms that are related to cars and wtv, so you can google if you're curious.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, mature, quirkless AU

warnings: illegal street racing

pairing: racer!keigo x f!reader

summary: keigo is notorious for being the king of speed and drifting in car races and you’ve caught his attention since the first night you joined as a line girl. although keigo has his eyes on you for a while now, he realizes that he might’ve missed a few things about you. and well, surprises aren’t exactly bad.. right?

keigo loves speed. he loves the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

and what better way can he express his love for it?

cars. races. 

keigo is a force to be reckoned with. he grew to be infamous for his incredible skills and talent in the scene and because of that, he also became the main target for the cops.

however, he’s not aiming for anything in particular. yet he doesn’t mind the prizes that come with it either; recognition, money, women. 

and boy, how he can easily get anyone wrapped around his finger.

but one thing he’s irritated about is how you’ve never paid him any attention. he got some killer looks, has won so many races, fucking loaded with money and he’s pretty confident about his size too (you can ask the other girls if you need reference, by the way). 

what more does he need to entertain you?

keigo gets excited when you’re filling the role of the line girl for his races on certain nights. he knows that it’s the best opportunity to show you what he’s made of and he wants you to know that you shouldn’t be taking him so lightly. 

the starting line is crowded with car enthusiasts, boys and girls alike– gathered for their love towards expensive sport cars, the sound of roaring engines, the thrill of watching and betting between two racers. the roads on the city outskirts has been put into lockdown by the responsible crews to avoid disruptions from other vehicles or bystanders.

keigo pulls up to the arena with his red nissan a few minutes early, not wanting to be late especially because he's the main star for tonight. his avid followers would already be there before him and instantly swarm around his loud car to cheer him on, wish him luck and maybe give him some kisses on his cheeks too.

as he’s chatting with the people around him, his golden eyes wander around from time to time to catch a glimpse of you in the arena. his eyes narrow when he finally sees you standing and talking by the window of his rival’s car. 

he wishes he could hear what you’re talking about that makes you all smiles and giggles while all he has ever gotten is the cold shoulder. keigo leans on his car, arms folded across his chest as he watches you from afar. he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when he notices you kissing the guy’s cheek before you walk away and strut in his direction to get across the other end. 

a playful smirk tugs on the corners of his lips by reflex as he watches you come nearer, the noises of the engines and chatters around him are quick to become white noises. yet, you only spare him a glance.

“hey,” you stop in your tracks and turn once you realize that he’s trying to talk to you and his lips curl into a lopsided smile as he smizes you with his golden eyes. “i’m keigo.”

you look at his extended hand peculiarly before shaking it firmly. “yeah, don’t humble yourself. all people here know you.”

“oh?” he raises a brow in amusement. “i’m just saying because you’re kinda new here.”

you smile, “already keeping tabs on me, keigo?”

“how could i not?” he chuckles. “always gotta keep you in my sight.”

“right,” you scoff. “what if i say that i’m taken and he’s my boyfriend?” you tilt your head to the side to point at the guy you spoke to earlier. 

keigo inhales through gritted teeth, feigning a pained and offended expression on his face. “then you have a bad taste in men.” 

“ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused by him yet he can see the small smile on your lips. “race is starting soon, you should get in your car.”

“don’t you wanna kiss me good luck?” keigo stares at your ass as you turn to walk away but he quickly shifts his gaze to your face once you turn to look at him. 

“i don’t think you’re the type that believes in luck.” you flash a sarcastic smile before striding off towards the front center of the track.

two race cars come forward before the red line that was freshly sprayed just a few minutes prior. keigo watches you as he revs his engine, sending a flirtatious wink when your eyes meet.

ignoring him, you raise both arms in the air, glancing between the two males who now have intense glares on the road ahead as they grip their steering wheels and gears firmly. 

“ready! set!” you shout through the revving engines and the cheers from the mob. “go!”

the moment you draw your hands down, both vehicles instantly speed off and emit white smoke from the friction of tires on the asphalt. when you spin around, you can vividly see that keigo is the one eating dust. 

keigo is calm and focused. like a hawk soaring in the blue sky, he keeps his prey within his vicinity before he waits for the right moment to pounce. he loves to chase– purposely letting his opponent get swept by their own overconfidence before he severely crushes down their will by swiftly changing the lead. some wouldn’t take the risk, but keigo absolutely loves the devastated look on their faces when he veers beside them by surprise.

any regular racers would be familiar with the track by now. he presses the clutch as he changes necessary gears while the mph meter increases gradually as his right foot presses down the accelerator continuously. keigo skillfully speeds through tunnels and every sharp corner until his bumper eventually lightly hits the race car in front of him, making the two of them neck-to-neck.

however, the car in front of him keeps on shifting side by side in an attempt to stop him from getting the chance to overtake. despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins, keigo is patient. he’s aware of the corner ahead where people usually make the same mistake and that’s where he finds the opening to strike. 

approaching the said corner, keigo has expected that the other car would make a wide angled drift thus with his own dexterity, he maintains perfect control as he drifts through the entire corner. 

“hah, bastard.” he snickers, glancing at his side mirror to see the other car struggles to catch up from the poor oversteering. 

keigo steps on the gas harder before he activates the nitrous oxide and boosts his ride until the finish line; easily completing the whole lap with the other car just a decent gap behind.

his ears are ringing with cheers as steps out from the car as people instantly flock around him to express their praises for his victory. keigo notices you weaving your way through the crowd to reach him and a triumphant smirk curls on his lips.

“i’m not surprised.” you say, voice lacing in sheer amusement. 

“yeah, but you’re the big prize for me tonight.” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, ignoring the people around him.

“i wasn’t a part of the bet.” you chide. 

keigo smiles at you endearingly before he gaze trails far in the distance. “we gotta run.”

as if on cue, the most hated and startling siren echoes through the street. everyone quickly scatters to their cars and drives off while you get inside keigo’s car with him. he wastes no time and speeds off before one patrol car chases after him.

“hold on, baby.” he swerves through corners, changing gears as he presses the gas harder to try and get the police off his tail. “one more corner will shake him off.”

keigo expects you to be frantic but he is caught off guard when he realizes that you’ve opened the window and stuck your upper body out of the car window. 

“what are you–”

you lift up your shirt and flash your tits at the cops behind you, “fuck you!”

a look of shock is apparent on his face but then he laughs to himself, thinking that he’s seeing you as you actually are, even for a brief second, and not the cold façade you’ve always shown him.

you get back in and sink in your seat just before keigo makes it to the last corner, giving him a chance to widen the gap between him and the car behind him before he quickly brakes at a dark, quiet alley.

“think we lost them.” he peeks through the rear view mirror to see the patrol car passing and missing the alley you both are hiding. “let's wait for a few minutes before i take you home.”

the both of you stay in the car for a few moments, making sure that there are no more cops patrolling the roads before he starts to drive off to your house. keigo doesn’t know why but he suddenly finds himself to be rather nervous now that you’re alone with him. he chooses not to make you uncomfortable so he geeks about his car instead and talks about which car he’d like to own next and gives his own elaboration why he adores it in the form of horsepower, engine and all the shit that you’re probably not too familiar with. 

now he feels like an idiot.

keigo hits the brake once you tell him to stop in front of your apartment and he’s a bit upset that the journey ended quicker than he thought. 

“thanks for the ride, keigo.” you say before opening the door and step out. 

“sure thing. sorry if i talked too much.” he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

but he feels relieved and his confidence flows within him when he hears you laugh. “it’s fine. you did rather.. well.”

“you’re not too bad yourself,” he grins, knowing that you’re not talking about the race he won. “flashing your tits like that. you’re full of surprises.”

you close the door and lean down to the open window, “and i assume you’d like to know what i have up my sleeves?” 

“i’m taking you out after my next win.” he snickers, honey orbs glinting with overflown confidence and mischief. 

“only if i get to drive.” you smile cheekily, leaving him stunned before a cocky smirk etches on his lips. 

“bet.”

it has been two weeks since keigo last saw you and tonight is another night that you’re filling in as the flagger. he’s uncharacteristically super pumped for his race tonight, coming with extra determination to absolutely annihilate the race since he can’t wait for the biggest prize that awaits him. 

he watches as you stand in the middle of the starting line, not missing the wink you give him before you glance at the other male to see if both contenders are ready. both cars rev their engines as they wait for your signal. this time, keigo immediately accelerates with incredible speed and smokes the other, not offering the slightest chance for his opponent to take the lead.

the battle takes place in the parking lot tonight– from the basement until the rooftop. keigo is notorious for his drifting skills so he’s able to ascend to each floor without breaking a sweat, oversteering through every spiral ramp that eventually leads to the rooftop. 

sounds of screeching tires can be heard from the wire. the winner is already expected by the crowd, yet they all stay and wait at the finish line to welcome the first car to arrive. sooner than later, keigo’s car is the first one to appear and the mob instantly runs over to him while the other arrives seconds later with some ugly dents and scratches on their car. 

“you really didn’t hold back, huh?” you chaff, resting your arms on top of his shoulders before he pulls you into an embrace. 

“i just couldn’t wait to take my prize back home.” he whispers in your ear, just audible for the two of you but before he can take the chance to kiss you, you pull away.

“come on, playboy. let’s take a drive.” you quickly jump into the driver’s seat and rev his engine. as he’s about to open the other door, you intentionally step on the gas to make the car move forward. 

“you can do it.” you laugh, moving the car forward again when he tries to open the door.

“not funny, kid.” keigo looks at you in annoyance before quickly opening the door and sitting beside you. 

“i’m just teasing you.”

keigo rolls his eyes and sighs, “okay, go slowly when we’re going down the ramps.”

he guides you the whole way down, reminding you to be careful of the corners and to keep watch on both side mirrors as you drive down until you’ve successfully reached the exit of the building and onto the main road. 

“that’s good. i guess you know how the clutches work now. so when you want to drive faster, you should– holy shit!” 

you immediately accelerate and skillfully shift gears as you drive through town. keigo on the other hand, quickly wears his seatbelt and holds onto his seat in fear for the whole ride. it must be the terrified look on his face because he can hear you laugh like a maniac as you drive even faster.

“fuck! slow it down, kid!” he yells, staring widely at the road in front him to make sure you’re not crashing his car to any poles or other vehicles. 

keigo swears that his soul has already flown out of his body but luckily you both have made it in front of your apartment unscathed. he has no idea how, but he’s fucking glad the car has stopped.  

“that was fun!” you chirp and turn off the engine. 

“n-never again.” he stammers and quickly finds solace by stepping on the ground, thanking the lords that he still has the chance to see another day.

“get a grip, keigo. you’re lucky i didn’t use nos.”

you get out of the car and hand him his keys before leading him inside your complex. 

“i wanted to drive to your place but you were busy screaming when i asked you where you live.” you purposely pick on him, remembering how he couldn’t utter cohesive words except for ‘watch out!’, ‘holy shit!’ and some other things of those sorts.

“shut up.” he pinches your arm. 

“but my place is okay too, right?” you smile sweetly as you open your door and pull him inside. you both quickly take off your shoes and keigo’s arms easily wrap around your waist to pull you close.

“if here’s where you want to show me the tricks you have up your sleeves, why not?” 

“but you didn’t seem too entertained with my surprise earlier.” you pout innocently, leading him towards your bedroom.

“i appreciate it.” 

keigo crashes his lips onto yours and pushes both bodies back down on your bed. he quickly takes off his leather jacket along with his shirt and throws it to the floor before his hands roam around your body while your hands run through his fluffy blonde hair. 

you moan into the kiss when you feel his erection grinding against your pussy and he breaks away to pepper kisses down your neck. keigo takes off your shirt and unclasps your bra before he latches his mouth on one of your hardened nipples and tweaks the other between his fingers. 

“you’re so impatient,” he mumbles, pressing down your clit through the damped panties. “you’re so wet and i barely touched you.”

“stop it, keigo.” you whine breathlessly, rubbing the bud against his finger shamelessly to relief the dull ache. 

“hm? i’m just teasing you.” he mocks. “can’t take it?”

“you’re an ass.” you bite back playfully, making the male chuckle with mirth. 

keigo takes off your skirt and pulls down your panties, smearing his thumb with your slick through your puffy folds and revels over how warm and drenched you are. 

“fuck.” he hisses as he watches you squirm from his touch. “what do you want me to do to you, babe?”

you nibble your lips anticipatingly, “hmm, show me how fast you are in bed.”

his eyes twinkle with pleasure and his lips twist into a sardonic smile, “oh? that sounds more like a challenge to me.” 

keigo bends your knees up, holding your ankles as he dives down to lick a fat strip of your essence. you shudder from the feeling of his wet muscle lapping the slick up and down while he gazes at your blissful expression through half-lidded eyes. he intentionally circles your throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue and gives a harsh suck that causes your legs to tremble. 

“mmph– keigo!” you whimper, trying to close your legs together but he only pushes your legs up even more until your ass is lifted from the bed. 

he drags his tongue down slowly then prods it inside your dripping hole. he wiggles his tongue all around your walls, shoving it as deep as he can until most of his face is buried against your cunny. your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you make eye contact with the male– his gaze is predatory and intense, his expression inexplicit as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

the warm muscle brushing rapidly against your walls feels so lewd yet arousing. keigo can see that your tummy begins to twitch as your breath comes shorter while your legs shakes uncontrollably. keigo pulls away, licking his lips t0 clean off your juices yet you can still see some leftovers glimmering on the tip of his nose and his chin. 

“shit,” he slides in a finger inside your quivering hole and groans over the feeling of your walls clenching around it. “you’re ready to take a cock, aren’t you?”

“mmhmm, please.” you whimper, grinding your hips to match his pace after he fits in another finger. 

“i like you begging like this. not very cocky now, huh?” he curls his digits inside you, dragging it against the spongy part that bounds to tip you off the edge soon. 

“oh, fuck–” you gasp as the muscles in your lower stomach continues to tighten vigorously. “keigo– wanna cum–”

“then cum.” he snickers, pushing his fingers back and forth at a ruthless pace while his thumb ghosts over your neglected clit. “come on. you can do it.”

keigo mocks again, not minding how he comes off quite petty since he’s the one who has the upper hand now. so he uses that opportunity to make you beg and given the fact that you’ve grown more desperate, you let it slide.

“p-please–” your hips are shaking, begging for one final push before you can completely reach your orgasm.

“you need me to touch this clit, don’t you?” he coos, grazing his thumb teasingly. 

“pleaseplease. need you, keigo. make me cum–” 

keigo generously rubs tight circles on your clit, causing your body to spasm violently as you’re pushed over the edge and cream all over his fingers. keigo crawls on top of you, drowning your moans with a fervour kiss and the saltiness that has enveloped his tongue embeds with your taste buds.

“but that wasn’t enough to show you how fast i can be, right?” he chuckles, freeing his throbbing cock from its confinement, tip already flushed with a bead of precum before he shifts back down and lines with your quivering hole. 

you gasp when you feel his cock stretches your sopping cunny, each bulging vein brushes against your walls as he fills you to the brim. 

“shit. i– ‘m so full.” you sob, clenching your sheets firmly before he takes out his cock halfway and pushes back inside you steadily. 

“f-fucking tight. your pussy’s sucking me so well.” he props on his hands so he can look into your eyes while he pounds inside your pussy. reflexively, your legs are wrapped around his waist and allows keigo to ram deeper and concurrently kissing your cervix with his tip. 

“hah– feels good–” you moan. “choke me.”

your request took him by surprise and it’s clear from the way his cock suddenly twitches inside you. nonetheless, he complies; circling his palm around your throat and pressing carefully. 

“mmph– yesyesyes!” your eyes roll back as your mind slowly becomes cloudy from the lack of oxygen while the male growls above you, sheathing his thick cock in and out as your walls clench around him.

“goddamn, you’re clamping down on me.” he says through gritted teeth, applying more pressure around your neck as he thrusts harder. 

the air in the room is filled with the sounds of his balls smacking your skin and lewd squelching noises. the pressure inside your tummy builds up drastically and your toes are curling as you chase for another orgasm while you submissively let keigo milk his cock with your sloppy cunt. 

“come on, baby. cum on this fat cock.”

you’re unsure whether your mind is playing tricks on you or whether keigo’s pace has become more relentless and incredibly fast but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it feels so good, the pressure inside your stomach is threatening to snap.

“keigo–!” with a loud cry of his name, you finally come undone– pussy fluttering around his cock and he finally lets go of his hold from your neck to let you breathe. 

“fuck yeah. good girl.” keigo nibbles on your neck, marking you with purple bruises as he rides through your high. his sporadic thrusts soon starts to falter and you know he’s just close when you feel his cock twitching inside. 

“fuck– baby– i’m gonna cum.” he says through grunts, brows furrowing as he desperately reaches for his climax. his hips stop moving abruptly, groaning in your ear as he fills you up with his load. 

the two of you stay in trance for a moment, regaining your composure before keigo pulls out his spent cock and lies next to you. while keigo is still in a daze, you get up and reach for the drawer beside you and get on top of him. keigo snaps back to reality when he hears the clank of a metal sound above his head. by tugging his wrists, he can figure that it’s a metal handcuff. once again, keigo is astonished. it’s confounding and thrilling; how many more surprises do you have in store for him? all underneath that cold guise, he has never expected you to be such a fun person to be with.

“round two? so soon.” he smirks conceitedly, golden eyes shining brightly with eagerness. “i must’ve been that good, huh?”

but you only chuckle and shake your head before looking at him dead in the eyes. he’s slightly perplexed, but his blood run cold once you show him a shiny badge in your hand.

upon his obvious dismay, you return his smirk. “keigo takami, you’re under arrest for participating in illegal street racing.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

#keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo x you #keigo x reader #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha hawks #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha au #hawks au #r; writes

[cheelduh]

The Shackles of Duty

Pairing: Diluc x gn!reader

Synopsis: As a weapon of the Abyss, your obligation towards your Princess should be eternal.

Warnings: Unedited angst. Pls ignore any mistakes besties <3

Word count: 2k

You've never really given the weather any thought. It's not as if it matters to you. Stormy day or not, your responsibilities—no, your duty towards the Abyss will remain the same.

It's still raining. The mud thick underneath your boots, slippery against your heel, the putrid smell of grassy dew lingering miserably against the air.

"You know what you have to do." The Abyss Princess commands you, her loyal servant, hers to dispose if she so desires.

"The dragon...Stormterror." You explain, goosebumps forming on your skin as a result of the damp clothes that adorn your wet body. "Your brother, the honorary night, along with others, thwarted our plans by eliminating the fragments."

"Why?"

"You know why, your grace." Is all that you can give to her. "I shall follow him. Keep him away, from inciting another encounter—"

"No," Lumine declares, no room for argument. "Infiltrating their ranks is no easy task. You mustn't be relieved of your post, not yet at least. We need to extract as much information as possible to further avoid outcomes like these."

Exactly the answer you don't want to hear in the middle of this archon forsaken storm, all bruised and bumped up from Stormterror's confrontation.

Don't make me do this again. I don't know how much more I'll be able to take.

You bite your tongue, knowing full well the finality of her words. "As you wish, my princess."

The familiar redhead suddenly plagues your mind, stoic, and with years worth of anger at the world. The hero in the shadows, the man with an agonizing past, a sense of retribution albeit his severed connections with the knights of favonious.

Despite the obstacles of life and the intellect honed from his journey, he's reckless. Reckless enough to still believe that he can make a difference. That anyone can make a difference.

Diluc is reckless enough to love someone, reckless to think that his sworn brother would be the only one capable of betraying him.

—

"There's no point." Diluc whispers loud enough for you to hear him underneath the stars, adding onto the lull of night. "They all keep walking—no, running, aimlessly because of duty. They follow orders without knowing where they come from. It's utter chaos."

"But in all the chaos, there is calculation." You lean against the stone of the walls, and as always, you know how to speak to Diluc. How to open him up and read him like a book.

You're sure he can do the same with you, but he just isn't looking where he should be. You need him to look; to realize he's tangled up in your web of deceit and that there's no way out.

"How do you do that?" He says, aware all at once. "How do you give me so much yet so little?"

I want to give you everything, the pretty and the ugly things alike. I want to give you my secrets, fold them up in a dirty, black, envelope, and have you turn it to ash with the violent flames of your heart.

It's a lot of work hiding under false pretences.

"It's a beautiful night, my love." You say instead.

Diluc's never gotten used to the term of endearment, still new to receiving affection. It warms him up differently to his vision, pleasant yet unfamiliar. It takes a moment for him to come back to himself.

You briefly jolt at the pleasant warmth of his hand atop yours, a silent reassurance, one that worsens your guilt, weaves it into something that pierces your rotten core.

—

You don't know what you're thinking when you stand in front of Jean's office, fist hovering.

Is forgiveness why you're here? No, because you would've went to Diluc first. You would've confessed to him right then and there about what a vengeful weapon you are, a mindless soldier that will do anything for their queen.

You don't even get a chance to think of the various ways he'd kill you when the door is open, and you're met with the view of the acting Grandmaster herself. Another dear friend that will come to despise you.

"Y/N! I'm glad you're here—"

"I'm a servant of the Abyss." You cut her off, and don't stop yourself, letting the words run freely against the fast pace of your heart. "I've infiltrated Mondstadt under the orders of the abyss princess and used what I've learned to conspire against the archons."

Everything's spinning, so fast you can barely breathe.

Jean doesn't move, doesn't even blink as the confusion dawns on her face. You aren't looking for confusion.

"Don't pretend you're blindsided completely," You give her a humourless chuckle, and by the hush of your tone it's as if you're telling her a secret to any spectators. "You've known for a while now that there's been a traitor within your ranks. Every single attack from the Abyss—too clean, too unpredictable, one could say with coincidence."

"But the universe is rarely so lazy." Your voice is smooth, calm, the complete opposite to the flurries of emotions that bloom your being. "Varka knew that. And so do you."

"No," Jean finally speaks up, denying your claim incandescently. "We've fought together for years. You're one of our best, our most dependable. Everything we've done—everything you've done has been for Mondstadt. As always."

If only that were the truth.

You wave a hand over your right eye, releasing the magical bind to reveal the intricate marker. Jean's eyes widen, and she's far from her usual composed self.

"Still don't believe me?" You ask, knowing full well she's still in denial. It's not everyday your best mate, the one that fights alongside you, admits to being a traitorous scum of the abyss drenched in years worth of lies.

Ah the trials and tribulations of friendship.

"Fine then," With the flick of your wrist, it doesn't take much effort for the main doors to open up with a bang.

The acting grand master draws back at the shrill sound, teeth gritting.

She isn't the only one that's provoked. Wood and Wyratt, the only two guards on duty at this time let out shouts of surprise, reaching for their swords on instinct.

You summon your abysmal magic, which shapes into deep blue, if not black, appendages. They glitter, hiding the entire galaxy in them, with stars that burst into life. Breathtaking if not used on the battlefield.

In mere seconds, one latches on to Wyratt's leg, while the other takes Wood by his arm. All it takes is a jerk of your index finger, and they're sent flying outside the doors, which unceremoniously slam shut behind them. The lock clicks into place, cherry on top.

Jean materializes her sword, taking on a defensive position. You don't think you've ever seen the woman irritated, let alone as livid as she is right now.

That's more like it.

"Go on. Arrest me." You bring your wrists up, casual as ever. "We'd better hurry. They'll come after me soon enough, it's in your best interest to listen to everything I have to say if I'm willing to die over it." There's a tightness in your chest that you can't explain.

Jean hardens her gaze, not allowing herself to relax. You know what she's going to say. You've been her friend, her advisor, long enough to understand where most of her actions and decision stem from.

She says—well she says nothing, because she doesn't get a chance to when an abrupt screech erupts from her office, causing your ears to perk up and your blood to run cold. A series of heavy footsteps, footsteps you're all too familiar with follow.

Although you're fairly certain you know who it is, you glance over her shoulder anyways to meet the fiery red eyes that have reserved a place in your heart. The sole reason you're blowing the whistle.

You feel a sharp pang in your heart.

The pure, authentic, hurt in Diluc's hardened features are enough to have you gutted completely. Mouth dry with a rock in your throat, you don't so much as allow yourself to exhale.

You finally understand why you didn't go to him first. You were sure he'd be able to survive the betrayal, but you weren't sure you'd be able to survive it yourself.

Diluc. You want to tell him, tell him how sorry you are. Tell him how much of a piece of shit you are. Tell him that he doesn't deserve this, that he deserves so much better. Tell him that you love him, devastatingly so.

It isn't supposed to end this way. Things never go as planned.

You avert your gaze, clench your jaw shut, and wait.

"Jean." Diluc says, and there's grim finality in his voice. "We need a moment." His words send small pricks throughout your spine.

Jean regains her composure, mulling over his request, but any resistance is placated by a simple look from the redhead.

When she reluctantly leaves, the quiet is near unendurable.

"Why?" If the way Diluc's fixed gaze could set anything on fire, you would've been burned to the stake by now.

You'd calculated this moment countless of times, predicted exactly how this would go, lived through every outturn in the dead of the night as you struggled to find sleep in his arms.

Living through it is far more dreadful than you could've ever imagined it to be.

His body closes in at your lack of reply, hands gripping your forearm to pull you in and kick the door shut. "Why?" This time it's more firm.

You open your mouth to speak, like a fish out of water, and out comes nothing.

"I trusted you," Diluc says weakly, in a way that has your heart shattering a million times a second. Tightening his hold on your arm, he continues "You were the only one I...I should've known. I was foolish to think I could believe in you." a sharp exhale, and he pushes you back against the door, but it's not harsh at all. He's gentle, and somehow that makes everything so much more worse.

Your inability to reply sparks a different kind of rage in his heart.

"It must have been quite the show, watching everyone run in circles." He seethes, furious, wounded. "Was it all just a lie? Were my feelings ever returned? Or was I just another one of your fair games?"

You wrench away from his hold as if it's burning you. The words are like needles, pinning into you with so much force it has you lurching in place, and then they twist deep within your blackened veins.

"Stop it." You should've just left. Should've just pushed back the nagging in your brain and jumped off a cliff or a something. Surely the unexpected death of a royal guard—no, the death of a fundamental piece in their plan would surely be enough to cripple them for at least a few days, if not weeks.

Anything but this.

You meet his gaze. "I do love you Diluc, that I am sure of. You don't have to believe me. I know I wouldn't."

"Is that all you have to say?" He all but hisses, gloved fingers closing in to form a fist. "You've betrayed everyone. Your friends, your family...me."

"You think I don't know that?" Your voice breaks when you look away. "I don't know what's right anymore, what's wrong. I don't even know what I've been fighting for this entire time." A sharp, mirthless laugh escapes your lips, "To allow myself to carry out orders I do not believe in is too much to bear. How long do I delude myself into thinking that this is all for Khaenri'ah? That this is all for a reason that is beyond me?"

There's a sliver of softness that shows in his features, but you're too busy calming the waves crashing in your head.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter anymore." You say, the sinking of your chest only expanding. "I've already contravened against the abyss, and for that they will come for me. The only thing I regret is that they couldn't get to me before you did."

A stricken look passes across his face, brows furrowed and desperation as clear as day when he reaches for you.

This time, you let his arms curl around your shaking figure, welcoming the comfort that you're undeserving of. "I won't let them."

"I'm sorry." You whisper shakily, fisting the fronts of his coat. "I'm so sorry Diluc."

Diluc hums as he strokes your hair soothingly, with the utmost of care. Although his trust in you has shattered, like irreplaceable fragments of glass, his love for you will remain constant.

Even with the storm that is fated to come.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #jean gunnhildr #diluc ragnvindr #master diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #genshin fanfic #diluc angst #genshin diluc #lumine #lumine genshin impact

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Cutie Pie | Sweet Pea

Hey Lovelies! Still updating from my Wattpad! Today’s feature: Sweet Pea! On another note; I think I’m going to open my requests for Thanksgiving! What do y’all think? All my love!!

Description: Y/n, Southside sweetheart, thinks Sweet Pea despises her. He really, really, does not.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: Hints at smut but not really

Word count: 3k

Tags: Fluff, angst

Toni groans and throws another top on the growing pile of shirts that she has deemed unwearable. You had seen nothing wrong with it, a flowing pink blouse with cream polka dots. To her, however, it was too girly. You had scoffed at that. There's nothing wrong with femininity, she of all people should understand that. Maybe if she had wanted something that screams masculinity she should have raided Sweet Pea's closet instead of yours.

The Serpents seem to think there is something wrong with being girly though, looking down on anyone who dares wear anything pink or flowery and definitely anyone who wears both at the same time. You roll your eyes at that every time. You, a teenage Serpent yourself, are perhaps the most "girly" person to have ever set foot on Southside grounds. You take pride in that, wearing your Serpent jacket over all the ballerina skirts and pretty pink bralettes that your flowery heart desires. Yes, you get glares all the time but the switchblade in the pocket of your cherry blossom backpack just begs them to start something they can't finish.

"Y/n, baby, I love you but your closet is a nightmare! Do you have nothing remotely black? Or skimpy! C'mon, you want to impress Sweet Pea don't you?" Toni's voice is teasing and your cheeks flame in embarrassment and a tinge of anger.

"I would never dress to impress," you make air quotes with your fingers and pretend to gag, hiding the unavoidable lust in your voice before you say his name, "Sweet Pea! He's a jackass who's high on some masculinity crap! I can't do that."

She smirks at you from the mirror she's applying her bright red lipstick in, "you can very much do that and I know you want to. You're telling me that you don't lay awake at night and imagine his hands, his very large hands, doing unspeakable things to you? You may be the cutest little thing we've got on the Southside but you, baby girl, want him bad. Trust me, I know. I'm your best friend."

"Yeah, well, you're wrong and even if I did want, well, all that," you blush at the thought and swallow hard, pushing down at the buzz in the pit of your stomach, "he hates me so it would never happen. Theoretically, of course!"

"Uh huh, sure," is all your pink haired best friend says before turning back to your baby blue, vintage vanity to curl her pink locks.

You cross your arms over you aqua t-shirt, feigning annoyance, "and just what is that supposed to mean, missy?"

"Just that we both know you're turned on from just hearing Sweets' name. And he doesn't hate you, I roll with the guys remember," she catches your wide, doe eyes in the mirror and shakes her head lightly, laughing softly at your blown pupils, "he wants you. Bad."

You scoff again, leaning down to tie up your white tennis shoes, "he does not. He thinks I'm weak; that I'm going to bring down the pack.”

"He feels like he needs to protect you. There is a difference," Toni stands, twirling in front of your mirror to approve her outfit for tonight.

Some of the Serpent teens are gathering at the quarry, much like they do most weekends, to hang out. Today is special, though, because it's the last weekend before summer ends and you're all forced to go back to an educational prison. You're heart races knowing that Sweet Pea will, in fact, be there tonight. He's a jerk, at least he seems like one. Every time you’ve spoken to him it's been to tell him to let you handle your own problems. Granted most of your problems have involved ghoulies trying to make you their lunch because of your cute aura and quiet voice but he's never given you an opportunity to prove yourself. No one has.

Your voice is soft, like usual, but a tad annoyed, "I don't need protection. Why does everyone assume that I do?"

"Because you're so cute we could just eat you up!" Toni leans over to pinch your cheeks and you try not to giggle because that would only prove her point, "also, that isn't what you're wearing, is it?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You peek around her and scrutinize your outfit.

An aquamarine t-shirt that stops right before a pair of fashionably baggy, cuffed jean shorts. The same pair of pink pearl earrings that you always wear are in your ears and the white tennis shoes you just laced are on your feet. Your worn Serpent jacket hangs proudly off your shoulders, the bright red patches bold against the black leather. The cherry blossom backpack is settled on your bed, ready to be grabbed and filled with your reusable water bottle, rose perfume, matching cherry blossom wallet, and switchblade, of course. All in all, it’s the perfect outfit.

You glance up to see Toni just smiling lightly at you, "Nothing, you're right. It's perfect."

                                               *     *     *     *     *    

Like usual, you and Toni take her bike to the quarry. You don't have your own bike so you ride behind her, your arms around her waist, her sugary scent blowing at you in full force, and your head thrown back, hollering into the wind. The two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Nobody would have ever seen it coming. You were always playing in princess dresses and she was the pirate storming the tea party in search of cookies that were dubbed gold. You're polar opposites yet she's, perhaps, the only one who really knows how alike you are.

You arrive at the quarry laughing and cheering like maniacs, nothing out of the norm. You swing your legs over the side of her bike, hopping off gracefully and smoothing back your wind blown hair. It's dusk, the sun having just set, and there are mason jar lights sitting on the picnic tables and fairy lights strung through the trees. For such a rowdy gang, there is soft indie music floating through the air; the final touch to, dare you say, a romantic atmosphere. You couldn't be more proud.

A familiar arm is slung over your shoulders, pulling you into a playful side hug.

"Fogarty! I haven't seen you all summer," you swing yourself into a real hug, latching your arms around his neck and squeezing as he pulls you off your toes, "where have you been, Fangsy?"

He chuckles and sets you back on your feet, ruffling your hair and grabbing one of your hands to twirl you around, "hey cupcake, it's good to see you too. I've been here and there, sorry I wasn't around."

You giggle and shake your head, pulling him to sit at the practically full picnic table that Toni claimed. The table cheers when they see you, pulling you in for hugs and playing with your hair. You hear a couple voices tell you that you look cute and others telling you to come sit with them. You slide your backpack off, placing it under the table when you find an empty spot. Before you can take your seat, however, a pair of muscled arms circles your waist, pulling you onto their lap and stealing your seat for themselves.

A leather and pine scent envelopes you as the table breaks out in hooting laughter, "Sweet Pea this is my seat. As in singular. Mine."

All he does is tighten his arms deliciously around your hips, pressing down slightly on your lower stomach and making you very much aware of the intimacy of your position. You look to Toni for help but all she does is wink, turning her head to join one of the many side conversations taking place. You sit in silence for a while, as stiff as a board in Sweet Pea's lap. You aren't uncomfortable so much as nervous. You can't lie, you've been practically in love with Sweets for as long as you can remember but, until now, he has barely shown you any form of affection besides ‘saving’ your sorry butt on numerous occasions.

"Relax, baby," he mumbles into your neck for only you to hear, "it's just me."

You want to yell at him for calling you baby, you really do, but it sounds so perfect coming from his lips and his mouth on your neck is too pleasurable to push away. Instead, going against everything you stand for, you sink into his broad chest, leaning your head under his chin and pulling one of his hands into both of yours.

"Much better," his chest rumbles softly under your back.

"Pea we're supposed to hate each other, remember?" You toy with his fingers, noting their size and remembering your conversation with Toni from earlier today.

She wasn't wrong, thoughts of his hands, among other parts of him, keep you awake at night. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck.

He leans down, skimming his lips over your earlobe while he answers, "Since when? I never got that memo."

His hand moves from your hip to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers dipping in and resting on the skin under your naval. You bite back an unexpected moan at his lips and searing fingertips, leaning further into his chest and shifting your hips backward to fully press yourself against him. You let go of his hand in exchange for digging your fingernails into the picnic table. His hands are hidden, given him all the encouragement he needs to slide his now free hand up your bare thigh, drawing circles with his thumb on the inside of it.

"Sweets," your voice is raw, "what are you doing?"

"Showing you just how much I don't hate you."

His lips inconspicuously move to your neck, claiming the skin under your jaw as his own in the darkness. His hand draws further up your thigh, under the denim of your shorts and stopping at the apex of your thigh.

"Let me show you that I very much do not hate you, baby," he murmurs into your ear, the hand in the waistband of your shorts skimming over your skin in mesmerising patterns.

"Not here," you force the words pass you lips, melting into his touch.

"Then let's go," he practically pleads into your ear and it's all you can do not to wrap your legs around him right here and right now, nodding desperately as he scoops you into his arms and stands up.

You giggle loudly and, for the first time tonight, you're able to see his face. He's smiling down at you, a soft look in his molten chocolate eyes. His stare soon turns heated and he licks his lips, drawing your eyes to his mouth. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling you flush against his chest. You turn to look at the table in time to see Toni nudge Fangs and point to the two of you, smirking at you when she catches your eye.

"Well guys," Sweet Pea addresses the table as he walks stealthily backwards, "it's been fun but we're going to head out now."

Before anyone can protest you lean up and whisper run in his ear. Before you know it he's sprinting to his motorcycle, the table of hollering Serpents shouting words of advice at your back. One that rings louder in the night is your best friend's voice screaming to "use protection". You blush and bury your head into Sweets' shoulder.

He sets you down on his bike when he reaches it, placing his hands on your hips and staring into your eyes through the darkness. The tension between you is tangible. You can hear every inhale he takes, imagining his bare chest moving over your own. In the blink of an eye you reach up and hook your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Sparks dance up your spine and his hands find your hips. Fire burns everywhere he touches you.

You break the kiss quickly, "crap Pea, my backpack! I left it under the table!"

His eyes are still closed and he finds you lips once more, pressing another kiss to you lips, "okay baby, wait here, I'll go grab it."

"No, it's okay I ca-"

"Baby, just let me go get it," he stares into your eyes, pleading with you to let him go retrieve your backpack.

"Fine."

You watch him run back towards the others. You don't realise how dark it is until your all alone and the woods around the quarry become more prominent. Every noise you hear sets you on edge. You swear you keep hearing twigs snap but it's only your imagination, right? It has to be. That or Sweet Pea is pulling a prank on you. Maybe you should have just gone to get your bag with him.

You hear another twig snap and tense up. You ball your hands into fists, readying for anything. You can fight, that puts you somewhat at ease. Toni is the only one who knows that, spare a few older Serpent women who aren't in Riverdale anymore, because they had been the ones to rough you up during your gauntlet. Yes you, the softest girl on the Southside, refused to do the dance. There were no rules prohibiting you from the gauntlet so you opted for it instead. Needless to say, you can take a hit.

"You little skank!" A voice sounds from behind you, causing you to whirl around.

In front of you stands a tall redhead with hair to her elbows. Her serpent jacket clings to her slim form, accentuating her curves in a way that makes you jealous. She wears a paint of off brand skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that's a little too tight. Her eyes are bright green and furious, glaring bloody murder at you. You have no clue who she is.

"Uhm, excuse me?" You glance behind you just to make sure she isn't talking to some else.

"You heard me, slut. Who the hell do you think you are? Sitting on my man's lap?"

The ‘slut’ thing doesn't bother you and neither does the ‘who the hell’. She doesn't know you so you refuse to take her meaningless words to heart. However, the part where she claims Sweet Pea has you seeing red.

"Amazing. Everything that you've just said is wrong." You smile innocently at her, curling your hands into fists once more behind your back.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say to me?" She takes a step towards you, her chucks cracking another stick.

"Oh, sorry, let me explain. My name is y/n, not slut,” you counter her step with one of your own, “that's who I am. Oh, and he's not your man. If he is than why is he pulling me onto his lap instead of you?” you scrunch your eyebrows and look her up and down, “Oh, wait, who are you again?"

Your sugary sweet smile turns sinister in the blink of an eye; the same amount of time it takes her to charge at you. The words ‘cat fight’ ring in your ears as you dodge a poorly thrown left hook. You use the opportunity to land a blow to her exposed stomach. She coughs quietly and you step back to give her room, trying to be as kind as you can to someone who's wrongly accusing you of being a harlot. You're caught off guard though when she lunges for you, knocking you to the ground and pinning your legs under her.

Rookie mistake number two. She goes to swing again but before she can you grab her shoulders and roll, ending in a straddled position with her arms secured over her head. You smirk triumphantly down at the red head under you.

You plan to keep her there until Sweet Pea gets back but she decides to, rather stupidly, open her mouth, "I bet this is a familiar position for you, huh?"

It's not red that you see this time but blackness. All you remember is calling her a bitch and the next thing you know your hands are bruised and you're being pulled, legs kicking in protest, off the red head who now has a busted eye and a bloody nose. You're screaming at whoever has you in their grasp to let you go another round with the nameless girl. A mass of teen Serpents surrounds you, cheering loudly for you. 

"Baby, as hot as that was, I'm not putting you down," a familiar voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You look back at the bloodied girl on the ground. She makes eye contact with you from around Fangs who's trying to help her stand up. You don't know where the reckless idea comes from but, to be fair, you aren't really thinking straight right now. Perhaps that's why you follow through with the plan you have just hastily concocted in your head.

You toss the red head a cute smile and mumble delicately to the tall raven haired boy, "hey, Sweets?"

"Yeah y/n?"

You glance up at him, still in his arms, and pull his lips to yours. You kiss him slowly, drawing it out for as long as you can before you have to breath again. You keep your lips millimetres from his, pressing them against his softly a few more times. When you look back to the ground, the girl is nowhere in sight and the rest of the Serpents have migrated back to the picnic tables. Your cherry blossom back pack is settled at Sweet Pea's feet.

"So," you giggle at his dazed expression, "do you still feel like you need to protect me?"

"Yes," your face falls and you almost push yourself from his arms.

"But, to be fair, I always will. That's just me. You looked amazing fighting though. Absolutely fucking beautiful."

"Okay," you kiss his jaw softly, "I think I can handle that. Now can we please get out of here?"

"Fuck yes!"

#sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea #sweet #pea #riverdale #riverdale imagine #toni topaz #topaz #toni #fangs #fogarty #fangs fogarty #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x y/n #imagine #reader insert

[heliads]

A Pretty Thief

After Race stumbles upon what has to be the most charming pickpocket in the entire city of New York, he’s sure he has to get to know her. It’s a good thing he’ll soon get his chance.

masterlist

Race is almost sure he didn’t see it at all.

Had he moved a foot to the left, had he blinked, he probably wouldn’t have seen anything. It was quick, hands moving with the grace of a trained pianist. Not that Race would know- he’s not exactly known for hanging around establishments with a caliber high enough to warrant a pianist. No, the Sheepshead Races are his kind of entertainment, not the top level businessmen who choose to frequent the orchestra and concert halls.

It is precisely this kind of man that Race has just seen pick-pocketed. The theft was probably the smoothest he’s ever seen- a quick slide of the hand across a back pocket and it was like watching the man’s wallet leap into the awaiting palm of the thief. The thief, as it happens, not the usual scruffy boy but a girl. That’s probably why she caught Race’s attention even before she liberated the man’s wallet- she’s pretty. Far prettier than the usual thieves Race has seen on the streets.

She glanced up once at him, as if she could sense his thoughts on her. She looked startled for a second, as if not used to being caught in the middle of a theft, then quickly regained her momentum. She flashed Race a cocky grin, tossing a wink like a penny to an awaiting newsie. Then she disappeared back into the crowd, gone in an instant despite the fact that there actually aren’t that many people on the street. Race is fascinated.

This, however, proves to be a mistake. In the time it takes for Race to linger in place, watching the pretty thief go, the man has discovered that his wallet is missing. He looks around frantically, searching for a possible suspect, and his eyes land on Race. Race watches as the man points a finger at him, the words shouting from his lips: “Thief! Stop him!”

Race pauses a moment. Surely he doesn’t mean Race himself, who’s just been standing here selling papes? But it does make sense, as few things on the streets ever make sense to bankers and street rats alike- who would steal a wallet, the couple of well-dressed shoppers or the boy dressed in worn clothes and hand-me-downs, selling papes at a couple of cents each in the hopes of not starving to death? 

It’s practically obvious that the man would turn to him. It’s also obvious what Race has to do now- it’s what he’s been doing for almost all of his life. He turns and runs, sprinting down the narrow cobblestoned streets in an attempt to get away from the banker and the crowds now turning to face him. A couple of cops attempt to chase him, but Race has always been able to outrun them. No competition.

His feet feel lighter than air, his legs a blur as he darts between couples walking on the streets and around corners. He pauses for a second, noticing the cops now in front and behind him, then makes a split-second decision and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He follows the brick walls through a few twists and turns, then curses softly. He’s hit a dead end, and there’s no way he can go back. The cops have already blocked the exit.

Just when Race is trying to figure out what his next move could be, a voice sounds from above him. Race cranes his head, trying to spot the speaker, and then he sees the arm pointing to a twisting metal ladder mostly hidden by crumbling brick. Race nods his gratitude, rushing up the ladder before the cops can spot him. He’s just managed to throw himself onto the roof of a low building before the men spill into the alleyway, but even from here Race can see their frustration. There’s no way they can find him, not now.

Race watches until they turn around and head back to the street, then lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He turns to thank his mysterious aide, but freezes slightly with surprise when he recognizes her. It’s the girl from before, the girl who stole the banker’s wallet and got him landed in this mess in the first place. Race scratches the back of his head, adjusting his newsie cap. “Thanks for the tip. I wouldn’t have found that ladder if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

The girl flashes him that same dazzling grin. “No problem. I felt kind of bad that they started chasing you. I wasn’t trying to pin the theft on you.” Race returns her smirk. “And they says there’s no honor among thieves.” The girl laughs, glancing over the edge of the roof to make sure nobody can see them. “You’re the first person to see me steal something in a while. Usually I’m too fast.”

Race raises an eyebrow. “You’se that confident in yourself?” The girl shrugs. “You tell me.” She pulls a cigar from her pocket, starting to lift it to her lips. Race’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s his. It had been in his shirt pocket, but now- His hand flies to his breast pocket. Sure enough, it’s empty. Race gapes at her. “That’s my cigar!” 

The girl hands it back after a second. “Just proving a point.” Race pretends to glare at her. “Better be. Cigars are off limits.” The girl folds her arms across her chest, expectant. “Then how did you get them? I didn’t know newsies had such wide access to the best cigars.” Race leans against a nearby wall, a grin rising to his lips despite himself. “I guess we all have our secrets.”

Then he straightens up. “Where are my manners? Honestly, you meet a goil who steals your cigars and you forget everything. I’m Race.” He extends his hand, mocking formality like he’s one of the bankers this girl just stole from, and the pretty thief copies his stance. “Y/N. Nice to meet you, Race.” Race flashes her a wink. “Nice to meet you too, as long as you stop stealing my cigars.” “No promises.”

They part ways soon after that. Whoever this Y/N is, she’s not a newsie, and Race needs to finish selling the rest of the day’s papes if he wants to have enough to eat tonight. Still, he can’t pretend he wasn’t disappointed to leave her on that roof. There was something about her that he hadn’t seen in a while. She was like a breath of fresh air in the middle of this smoke-clogged city. Honestly, that should tell Race that this girl is special. She’s practically driving him to poetry.

He doesn’t expect to see her again. Something about Y/N tells Race that she’ll only be found if she wants to be found. Yet a couple of days later, Race is walking back to the newsie Lodging House when he sees a familiar silhouette. It’s late in the day, the sun already slipping back into dusk, but he could recognize her in the middle of a dark and stormy night if need be. She’s walking quietly, arms wrapped around herself as if hoping that the press of her forearms alone could keep her warm. Race has lived in Manhattan long enough to know that it never will.

Race jogs to catch up to her, shouting a greeting from down the block. Y/N turns around, a somber expression instantly glittering into a smile when she sees him. Race slings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close like he’s known her his entire life. “You want to tell me why the best goil in ‘Hattan is walking around like she’s been living a funeral?”

Y/N glances at him over her shoulder. “You think I’se the best goil in ‘Hattan?” Race shrugs. “Maybe all of New York. Maybe the entire world. But that’s not the point. What’s got you feeling blue?” Y/N’s smile slips from her face. It’s strange how she looks without it- older, maybe. More used to the stresses of being a teenager who has to work day in and day out to survive the city.

“I usually have a job in one of the factories, stitching clothes and whatnot. I’se had it for a while. It’s not the easiest or the safest, but at least it’s indoors.” Race winces at that. He’s heard a lot about the factories, about dozens of girls crammed together in small rooms, eyes strained over tiny stitches for hours and hours until they practically couldn’t see or move their hands at all. For some reason, the thought of the flighty, high-spirited Y/N stuck inside that dim and darkened room makes his heart clench in his chest.

Y/N is continuing now, and Race puts aside his pride to listen to her. “Or at least, I had the job for a while. Today, the bosses came out and said that they was going to fire a bunch of us to make sure they had enough profits. I was one of the people they selected at random, because I’se one of the youngest and they don’t trust us kids to do the best work. They’ve done stuff like this before, but they always hire us back. It’s been a couple of days now, and I’ve showed up every day. They should have hired me back, but they haven’t. I think they’re serious about this.”

She flops her head into her hands. “I’m worried, Race. The factories are already stuffed to the gills with new workers as it is. I don’t know that I’ll be able to find a place to work so quickly. Besides, my landlord’s going to kick me out if I don’t have a way to pay my rent. It’s the smallest apartment on this side of Manhattan, but it’s all I’ve got.” Race feels his spirits sink as he listens to Y/N talk. It isn’t fair that she should have to go through this, that any of them should have to work this hard just to live. But New York has always run at double speed, and the city that never sleeps has rarely cared about the welfare of the kids it relies on to function.

Race pulls Y/N closer, pressing a kiss against the top of her head despite his head screaming at him that this is not something he should be doing with a girl he’s just met. “You can stay with me. Us newsies have our lodging house, you know. It’s not much, just a bunch of troublemakers stuck together in a mess of bunks, but it’s home. If you need a place to stay, it’s here for you.”

Y/N looks up at him through a mess of lashes, and Race feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. “You mean it?” Race tries to force indifference, but he doesn’t think he could do it if he tried. “Of course I mean it. We look out for each other, right? Now I’m looking out for you.” Y/N beams at him, wrapping her arms around him. “You’re the best, Racer. Honestly.” Race feels like a giddy schoolboy. “Hey, it’s no problem. Want to go now?” “Absolutely.”

They make their way back to the lodging house, trading jokes and smiles as they go. Now that Y/N’s got a place to stay and at least start to stay on her feet, she’s decidedly happier. This in turn makes Race happier. He’s not sure why, but every time she looks over at him with that beaming smile Race feels like he could run a hundred miles and never stop, or jump right up to the moon and make her a place to stay. The other newsies would laugh at him and call him starstruck, but it doesn’t matter. Y/N’s curling her fingers around his, and he can’t think about anything else.

They pause in the doorway of the lodging house. Y/N looks back to Race as if double checking that he’s serious about this, and he gives her a reassuring smile. Race steps forward, opening the door and guiding Y/N into the main room of the house. From the second they enter, Race can feel all eyes shift to them. Great. It’s not often that the newsies bring a goil into the lodging house, and certainly not one as pretty as Y/N. Race can already hear the questions they’re dying to ask, and sense the stares from Albert, Elmer, and the others.

Luckily, Jack is the first one to step forward. Honestly, of all the newsies to first talk to Y/N, Race is glad it’s Jack. Jack happens to already have a girl to hang about with, and such a vibrant, fearless girl is Katherine that Race knows Jack would never think twice about another girl. It’s kind of like how Race feels about Y/N. 

Jack looks between the two of them, a grin settling decidedly onto his face. “So, Racer, you want to tell us about your, uh, friend?” Race gives Jack a look. “This is Y/N, she’s a good friend of mine. She needed a place to stay so I offered up a bunk over here.” Jack grins. “I bet she’s a very good friend.” Race makes to hit him with his cap, and Jack dances away. “Alright, alright. Just teasing. Y/N, we’d love to have you. If you can stand Racer, you can stand any of us. Stay as long as you like.”

Y/N laughs, the sound echoing around the room like a bell. “That sounds great. Thank you.” Race repeats the thank-you before practically pulling Y/N away, desperate to get a chance to talk before the other newsies try their hand at stealing away his goil. Race wants to shake himself at the thought. Y/N isn’t his girl, remember? He would do well to keep it in mind, although the thought keeps slipping from his head the second she looks back at him.

At first, Race doesn’t know what he was thinking, bringing Y/N to the lodging house. Would she get annoyed by all the other newsboys? Would she like it at all? Luckily, he doesn’t have to worry. She seems so happy to have a place to stay, somewhere with a ton of new friends that she doesn’t complain at all. In fact, she seems to be enjoying herself.

When it’s time to go to sleep, Race isn’t sure what to do. They offer Y/N one of the spare bunks, and she takes it, but he can tell that Y/N is still awake even long after the other boys fall asleep. Quietly, so as to not wake anyone else, he whispers over to her. “You can come over here. If you want. You know, if you can’t sleep.” For a second, he thinks Y/N is going to laugh at him, but then she whispers a quick thank-you, hurrying across the room on footsteps almost too light to hear.

Y/N settles into the bunk next to him, wrapping the few threadbare blankets around her. Y/N lays her head down on his chest, and Race pulls her close to him. He can already feel himself starting to drift off to sleep, but he can still hear her whisper something in the quiet of the night. “Thank you, Race. For everything. You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.” Race smiles, the expression slow in the night air. “Of course I did. I care about you, you know. Couldn’t leave you there on the street.”

The words hang in the air for a second, and then Y/N’s voice comes again, sweetened with a smile. “I care about you too, Race. More than I should.” Race raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Y/N grins. “Yes. But now I’m going to sleep.” She pulls the blanket higher, closing her eyes despite the look on Race’s face. He considers this for a moment, what it means, what he can’t believe she just said. Then sleep threatens to drown him whole once more, so he presses one last kiss to her cheek before finally letting himself drift off to sleep at last. If the other newsies can see the two of them, holding each other close together in the quiet of the lodging house, they don’t say a word until morning.

#race imagines #race x reader #race oneshot #newsies #newsies imagines #newsies x reader #newsies oneshot #race higgins #race higgins imagines #race higgins x reader #race higgins oneshot #newsies race #newsies race imagines #newsies race x reader #newsies race oneshot #newsies live #newsies live imagines #newsies live oneshot

[lovelytarou]

the language of flowers — oikawa tooru

pairing: oikawa tooru x gn! reader

genre: fluff, flowershop!au

tags: flowerboy!oikawa, slowburn, strangers to lovers

word count: 4.06k

a/n: i finally finished this after 2536484 years of procrastination! but thanks to my moots shae and julie for showing support and giving their opinions about this concept hehe. this is the longest fic i've written wow 😳

⤷ summary: the flowershop on the street you frequently walk on going home is a wonder you didn't notice until recently when the smell of flowers caught your attention. deciding to enter it one day out of pure curiosity, you met the owner of the shop and with it, the start of a blooming romance.

life was filled with repeating patterns, certain routines and habits that everybody has gotten used to doing. like the way you always took the same path when going home, passing by the familiar faces you encounter all the time, seeing the similar architecture and landscape that brings some sort of familiarity to you whenever you see it. 

your feet stopped in their own accord when a sweet smell invaded your nose. you inhaled deeply, the aroma pleasant and fresh. going a few steps back, you finally saw where it was coming from. the flower shop stood out like a sore thumb in the street with its vibrant flowers that you can see through the clear glass. the sunlight was shining down upon the beautiful flowers and they looked charming even from afar. 

you thought for a moment and decided that you'd stop by in the flower shop for a little while. besides, if the smell alone has caught your attention, who knows what else can? 

the soft tinkle of the bell on the door signalled your presence. you were simply in awe at the sight of the decorations inside the shop. it was breathtaking. numerous flowers, bouquets, wreaths, and some that you don't know the name about were placed neatly and elegantly inside the shop to let the customers feast their eyes (and noses) upon. 

giggles and loud laughter snatched you away from your thoughts, a huddled group of women and men alike are circling over something - or someone? - and they seemed to be too entertained about it than the flowers themselves. chuckling quietly, you shook your head and decided to look around the place more for yourself. 

there were buckets and baskets of anemones in pinks, reds, and purple. there were also daffodils, camellias, and tulips of many colors that you can't help but get sucked in by them. you can't think which one to go to first, there are so many! the hanging plants are wonderful as well, they can make for great decoration. the succulents look cute and adorable, it can also be manageable if you find yourself too busy to take care of a plant. 

you were too deep in your thoughts, caressing a blue tulip to even notice the sudden silence in the shop and the ringing of the bell at the door that tells you the previous patrons have exited the flower shop and you're now alone. or so you thought.

“beautiful,” a sing-songy, lilting voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jolt from where you're admiring the flower and turned towards the owner of the voice. 

if the flowers took your breath away, well he made you get your breath stuck in your throat. he looks like he's not from around him, and simply breathing in his space is something short of disgraceful. you took in his wavy side-swept dark brown hair, and his welcoming eyes of the same color that shone with mischief. his lips are stretched into a smile. 

wow, he is really tall. you're surprised he hadn't reached the ceiling of the shop. he seemed pretty intimidating with his height alone, but there's an air around him that screams playfulness.

“ah, i meant the tulips.” he apologized as a blush coated his beautiful clear cheeks, a hand touching his nape.

“oh!” you cleared your throat, immediately bringing the tulip back where it respectfully resides, “yes, they're very wonderful to look at. you have a lovely shop, uh…” 

he seemed to perk up at the inquisition of his name, he chuckled to himself before offering his hand.

“oikawa tooru, nice to meet you! and thanks, i do try hard to keep this flower shop presentable for customers like you who have taste.” he winked, walking past you and you followed suit – eyes practically glued to his form as he moved swiftly around his small shop.

“must be difficult to run a business like this all by yourself,” you wondered, fingers brushing against petals that your hand can reach. 

it's odd, but staying in there for just a few minutes has brought you a sense of relaxation. as if the flowers all around you and talking to oikawa is such a breath of fresh air. 

“well, you get used to it after a while. besides, i have my friends, uh...help me sometimes.” he nervously chuckled, he certainly knew that 'help' means that force his friends to carry things around while blackmailing them and bribing them for lunch, then sure, he had them help him. 

you only hummed in response. 

he turned around after a while, a pink lily in his hand.

“i think this suits our gorgeous customer, don't you think?” he smirked, handing the flower with a flourish which you took gently – causing your hands to touch and making you feel that slight tingle people talk about in movies and books. 

you felt silly about the way your face heats up at the small gesture, your gaze not straying away from the flowers in fear of letting oikawa see his effect on you. 

but you can try with all your might, nothing can stop him from already seeing your flushed face. he always does these things to entertain the customers but he found his chest feeling warm staring at you like that.

going back to his place in the cashier, he started to tidy up a bit for the next customers that will visit the shop. his brown eyes kept staring at you from time to time as you walked around, trying to see if there's anything else you could buy along with the lily – but we all know it's just to keep your attention away from him and the fact that he can make your heart race with mere flirting.

“i never really noticed your shop before, and i have walked this street for how many times now.” you droned on, playing with the cute pots on the shelf – some of them were heads of the cliché green alien and other space themed stuff which you find adorable, bringing a fond smile to your face.

“oikawa's flower shop is like a secret garden, my dear customer.” he boasted, spraying freesias on the cashier desk with a smile on his face.

“it truly looks like one,” you agreed, with one final look in the flower shop, you walked closer to the cashier and got out your wallet. 

“no, no. it's on the house, lovely.” he beamed, stopping the hand in your bag.

“really? thank you.” your face flushed at the feeling of his hands – the very same one who took care of these beautiful flowers – touching yours. 

he recoiled, as if burned. his face painted a deep red like the roses by the windows. both of you looked away, like two magnets of the same sign – coming in contact with each other only to repel.

“well, um, i'll see you around then.” you muttered, breaking the silence. 

“yeah, see you.” oikawa smiled warmly. hopefully much sooner, he hoped.

with one last look at each other, you turned around and exited the secret garden. you walked home that day all smiles and giddy, still feeling the lingering touch he has left on your skin, how warm and calloused they felt. maybe from how hard he was working. 

you wondered if you'll ever see him again soon. 

the second time you visited the flower shop was when you saw oikawa in one of the coffee shops you frequented. it turned out that he usually stops by for coffee and his milk bread when the shop's particularly slow. he asked to walk you home and since you're both taking the same path, you agreed. 

he turned out to be a very chatty person – not the kind that will annoy you because they only talk about themselves, but the amusing kind because he has a lot of stories stored inside his big brain full of tales about him and his friends, and occasionally asking about your life as well.

you two had fallen into a comfortable pace as you walked together, sipping both your beverages. 

“hey, let's play truth or dare!” he blurted, eyes sparkling in excitement and thinly veiled mischief, a bright smile on his lips.

“really? here? now?” you asked, incredulous. isn't this something people do in parties around a lot of people? 

“yeah! it'll be fun,” he shrugged. 

“well, okay then.” you sighed, before sipping your drink, “you go first.” 

“okay…” he pretended to think hard, eyes darting everywhere as he hummed, “truth or dare?”

“you don't really need to think so hard about that,” you chuckled.

“just pick!” 

“alright, alright. truth!” you beamed at him, trying to understand what his brain will cook up to ask you.

“ah, that's easy. what's your name?” oh, that's right. you forgot to tell him back then the first time you went in his flower shop. and so, you told him.

“y/n. what a beautiful name. okay, my turn! my turn!” he excitedly chanted, eyes never losing their sparkle. 

you ignored the butterflies that erupted in your stomach the moment he said your name, as if he's taking his time and tasting it around his tongue like a foreign delicacy he hasn't tasted before. 

you cleared your throat, averting his gaze as they zeroed in on you, “truth or dare, mr. milk bread?” 

“hey, they taste really good, i'll have you know.” he scoffed, before his face morphed back into excitement again, “dare!”

you thought for a moment, there isn't really anything too interesting to do while walking. and then you smirked.

“i dare you to greet the person who will walk this corner as if you knew each other for a very long time,” you grinned devilishly. he gaped at that, before darting his gaze towards the street corner you were talking about. 

“y/n-chan, i didn't know you would be the type,” he teased, you were about to retort when a huge, buff man walked around the corner. he looked intimidating, even for you and you wondered what oikawa might be feeling right now. 

but you didn't need to wonder about it any longer as he was already walking up to the man, confident and grinning. he raised his hand in the air before slapping the guy on the shoulder. 

“hey, long time no see, man! say hello to the wife and kids for me, will ya?” the man gave him a weird look before shaking his head, walking past and minding his own business muttering about 'kids these days'.

once the guy was out of earshot, you and oikawa bursted out in laughter, looking at each other with relief and surprise.

“i thought he was going to pulverize you!” you wheezed in between chortles.

“i know! me too! i thought he'll get mad at me or something,” he threw his head back as he laughed. you stopped your own giggles to stare back at him. he looked radiant as he let himself go, you thought he looked attractive with the way he candidly showed his happiness.

“something wrong, y/n-chan?” you hadn't realized he stopped laughing and was left staring at him. his head was tilted in curiosity as he peered at you in concern.

“not at all!,” you catch yourself, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, hoping he didn't notice you ogling him, “where were we?”

“it's your turn now, truth or dare?” feeling bold, you chose dare next. 

oikawa gave you a broad smile, his hand extending towards you as if encouraging you to take it, “i dare you to stay a little longer with me in my shop,”

to be honest? you expected him to get back at you and maybe make you do an equally embarrassing (if not more) dare, but you did not expect this. 

what you also didn't expect is the fact that you had stopped in front of oikawa's flower shop with your back turned to it. how did you reach there so fast? it seemed like talking and walking with him made time stop. a part of you would like to keep it that way, if only it was possible.

“i would love to,” was your answer. oikawa opened the door to his shop, letting you in first. he then led you near the back of the shop, opening into a wide backyard that resembled a small, gorgeous garden with different kinds of flowers. some even you haven't seen him display in the shop inside. 

the two of you sat on the two seated table. you were simply at awe with how ethereal this all looked. your eyes couldn't get enough of all the wonderful colors that it landed on.

“wow,” was all you managed to say, taking in your surroundings and appreciating every nook and cranny presented to you.

“i spent most of my breaks here,” oikawa came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the glass table. 

“usually talking to myself and talking to the flowers. i heard it helps them grow faster and makes them more beautiful.” he, too, looked around his small garden with unconcealed pride and fondness. if you looked closer, you could also see the hint of sadness hidden in there. 

“you talk to your flowers? that's so cute!” you gushed, hiding your smile behind the glass of water as you sipped it.

“if anything, you're the one who's cute.” he complimented as if it was nothing, eyes boring into yours as his smile widened.

you choked on your water, coughing it up out of surprise and it was the opposite of cute. but his opinions didn't change.

oikawa barked a laugh, reaching over to pat your back soothingly. once you calmed down, you avoided his gaze once again and decided to stare at the sunflowers nearby. 

“we should just continue the game,” you decided to divert the topic. 

“truth or dare, cutie?” oikawa bit back the grin from emerging on his face. hiding it with a palm propped up on the table.

“d-dare,” you answered without thinking. and oikawa being the little shit he is, took this as an opportunity.

“i dare you to go on a date with me this saturday,” he sincerely declared, eyes not leaving you once. your head whipped back to him so fast, you swear you got whiplash. 

you're not one of these flowers and yet you felt the butterflies going wild inside of you.

your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest, pounding hard and ringing in your ears. 

“you don't need a dare to get me to say yes,” you reasoned with a wide smile.

oikawa tooru, like his flowers, is a lively, blooming person. you get to know that the moment you agreed to go on a date with him. it followed a few hangouts, and frequent bumping into each other considering this was a small town, afterall. how you haven't noticed such a vibrant person in your life was beyond you.

you see him everywhere, every day in your life right now. in the small bushes that your neighbor has in their garden, the alien and sci-fi movies in the store which were his favorite every time he invited you to watch a movie, the milk bread you saw in the coffee shop you both love to go, and even the characters in the books you love to read. oikawa tooru practically invaded your life the moment you invited yourself in his flowershop and you loved every second of it.

every time you two hang out together, he never misses to bring you any flower. you'd always keep them with you until you come home, placing them in a vase and watering them constantly, taking care of them like how much oikawa takes care of the flowers. you paid no mind to it, only thinking that it was a sweet gesture from him until your friend decided to comment on the fresh flowers on top of your coffee table.

the both of you had known each other for a very long time now and that she's going to get married, she wanted you to be a part of it too. setting down the tea in front of her on the table, you sat down beside her, engulfing her in a hug. 

“oh, y/n! i missed you so much! it's been busy with all the planning for the wedding and the people to invite, i still haven't tried on my dress and tasted the cake, it's kind of stressing me out!” she immediately let her sorrows and agony free the moment you let go of the hug.

“speaking of stress, is there anything i could do to help?” you reached for her hand, rubbing it soothingly in circles. 

she hummed thoughtfully, sipping her tea to calm her nerves, “now that i thought about it, we still don't know anyone good enough for the flower decorations in the venue,” she pouted, sighing sadly. 

a lightbulb lit itself on top of your head, making you perk up, “i know someone who does!” 

“really? are they good?” oh more than good, you wanted to butt in but shake your head free of those thoughts. 

“of course! he's actually the one who gave me these, he takes real good care of them.” you gestured towards the tulips in your vase. it seems like her eyes lit up and she immediately fell in love with the flowers. 

“tulips?! oh, y/n, my dear, he's in love with you!” she squealed in glee, bouncing in her seat like a little kid.

“how did you know that by simply looking at my tulips?” 

“giving tulips to someone means a declaration of love, sweetie.” she sighed dreamily, “you might as well plan for your wedding too!” 

“don't be ridiculous!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to smile too wide. 

you weren't too against on the idea, but you just met afterall. it would be too early for another wedding. even though he never failed to show his affection every time you are together, there's still a lingering doubt whether he did like you in that way.

as promised, you asked oikawa about it the next day, stopping by his flower shop with coffee and his beloved milk bread since it's his break. 

“y/n-chan! it's always a pleasure to be visited by you again,” he greeted you, he was attending to a few customers in the store and excused himself before talking to you. your heart swelled with the action, not being able to hide your smile this time.

“tooru, i was just stopping by to ask you a favor. my friend's wedding is getting near and she still doesn't have any flower decorations for the venue. i mentioned you and i was wondering if you're the one who could do it instead?” you bit your lip nervously, fumbling with the paperbag containing the bread as you looked up at him hopefully. 

seriously, how can he resist you looking at him that way? your eyelashes fluttering, mouth formed into a pout, eyes shining brightly. you're just asking him to devour you whole. before he knew it, he had leaned in to peck the corner of your mouth. 

it completely shocked you to your core. he hasn't done that kind of thing before, always being respectful and never doing anything you didn't want to. but strangely, you weren't mad at him for it. to tell the truth, you kinda wished he kissed you more. 

“i'd love to, y/n-chan.” he uttered, pinching your cheek before turning to hide his own reddened face. 

that was basically the last time you saw each other since you recommended him to your friend. and since then, he has been busy and you tried to help with the wedding as well. you figured oikawa has his hands full with taking care of the decorations for the wedding, but even then, he would still message you or even facetime you after – asking about how yiur day went and craving to see your face without him being able to for how long.

the day of the wedding came and it was magical. your heart melted the moment your friends said their “i do's” as everybody clapped and rejoiced with them. the moment you stepped into the venue, everyone was amazed, speechless at the decorations being the first thing their eyes could feast upon. pink and white roses was all you could see – ranging from vine-like ones hanging from the ceiling, to arches in the doorway, and some are even placed neatly on the tables. 

to sum it all, it was breathtaking.

“your boyfriend did amazing,” your friend teased, bumping her hip to yours as she walked away with her husband to greet some guests.

you were left standing there, mouth agape as you took everything in. you couldn't wrap your head around the idea of oikawa managing to do all this by himself, but then again, he has surprised you by doing a lot of things you didn't know he could do. 

“you know, if you stayed here longer there won't be enough food left for you.” the familiaf voice you grew to love and got used to spoke from behind you. something tugged in your chest, the events seeming like déjà vu all over again. 

“i'm just admiring your work, tooru.” you smiled, turning around to face the man behind the beautiful decorations. 

he's changed his clothes into a more formal attire than his usual getup with the aprons and white button up shirt for a maroon suit and tie. he even styled his hair back, if you didn't know him long enough you might have mistaken him for someone else. 

“you look...good,” you managed to breathe out, it seems like the decorations aren't the only ones that are breathtaking. your eyes drank him in, how the clothes hug his frame perfectly, the color complimenting his skin tone, and the fact that his fluffy hair is swept away really makes you want to jump his bones right here, right now.

“and you look gorgeous. i must say, i don't mind you looking like this all the time, y/n-chan.” he chuckled, a shit-eating grin blooming on his face as he eyed you up and down slowly. your face grew hot against his stare and you felt naked, as if his eyes can see through you. 

“th-thanks, tooru.” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your clothes. before any of you could speak, however, the emcee spoke on stage calling out the bride and groom to give a speech. 

you all gathered around the small stage as they thanked everyone for coming to the wedding, inclduing the guests, their helpers, the staff. after all the mushy speech, she declared it was time for the dance, turned around and threw the bouquet (that's also from oikawa) to the audience. 

you saw the thing flying to you and out of pure instinct, you threw your hand in front of you and ended up catching the bouquet. everyone around you clapped including oikawa himself as you stared at it wide eyed. your gazed met oikawa's and as if your face couldn't get any hotter, you also felt the fast beating of your heart when you stared at each other. 

everybody howled and chanted teasing remarks at the two of you. instead of paying attention to the newly weds they picked the two of you as the center of their amusement. 

your friend's voice overpowered them all as she also chanted, “kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!” 

oikawa looked at you with a raised brow and you can only smile bashfully in return before you felt the world turn upside down, oikawa dipping you as he kissed you passionately and deeply. time seemed to stop once again as everything blurred and all you can feel is him, and all he can feel is you. he hoped it would be enough to pour all the emotions and words he wanted you to know. 

it felt like the kiss lasted forever before he pulled away, the two of you out of breath as you giddily smiled at each other, both sharing a lovestruck look.

“is it too early to ask you to marry me?” 

general taglist: @chibishae34 @behan @bukojuiice (tagging you here bcs you're excited for this)

#tarou writes 🌹 #💫. oikawa tooru #oikawa toorunx reader #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x reader fluff #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #hq #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq fanfictions #hq imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! imagines #flower shop!au #flowerboy!oikawa

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | FIVE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,111

warnings: mostly fluff, some angst toward the end, mentions of injury

18+!!! minors stay away!

You didn't get much work done with Peter during the weekend. Following your emotional outburst over the argument between the pair of you, Peter stayed at your house surprisingly late into the night. You both seemed to agree the project could wait for a different day, and instead of working you spent the evening talking. While you didn't have much to talk about, Peter had a seemingly endless supply of subject matter to keep you both entertained.

Already you could tell that you were growing attached to him, probably far too much and far too soon, but there was no stopping it any longer. He made you feel good things and gave you a sense of normalcy you'd been craving for so long; there was no way you were giving that up any time soon. If he hurt you in the end, you'd deal with the pain because at least you got a bit of relief in the present.

That Friday evening had been one of the best nights of your life, regardless of how mundane or even boring it probably would have seemed to your younger self. You learned a lot about Peter, more than he'd already forced you to know in the weeks leading up to that night, and you answered all his random and silly questions about yourself. You learned that his favorite colors were red and blue, totally un-ironically, and that he'd gotten his abilities the summer between the eighth and ninth grades.

You also learned that Peter was just as stubborn and competitive as you used to be, and something about that knowledge sparked some of the old flame back into you. So, chasing after the fire that used to warm you, you made a deal with him. If he could prove to you that the Avengers were not as bad as you thought they were, then you would willingly do your speech in favor of the superheroes.

"You--you what?" Peter sputtered, laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach with both hands and gasp for air, "You really cut the hair off of all of your sister's dolls because she beat you at checkers?"

You snorted, a harsh sound that made your nose ache as you laughed along with him, "Yes! She knew how competitive I was, and she took that risk by challenging me. I never lost a game of checkers again after that."

He slipped into another torrent of giggles much to your amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a beautiful smile that made your own chuckling soften as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of it. Peter Parker was certainly a very breathtaking spectacle to behold, and you had to wonder why he wasn't so much more popular in school. You knew why, everyone could see the relentless torment that Flash Thompson unleashed on him, but it still made no sense to you.

What was there to dislike about Peter? Just days ago you'd been beyond annoyed by him, and weeks before that you'd been entirely uncaring of his existence, but already that all seemed completely nonsensical to you. Now that you'd let him in, given him a chance, it seemed impossible to ever not like him again.

Wheezing breathlessly, Peter chortled, "I can't even judge you. One time, when Ned and I were thirteen, he bet that he could finish a LEGO set before me. He was going to beat me, and I may have accidentally knocked it off the table so he had to start over."

"So," you finally gasped as you stopped laughing, "so, what you're saying is, you're just as stubborn as I am and we're definitely never going to agree on this project?"

His chuckles slowly died out as he nodded, "I guess so."

You knew what he meant to say, and that was the fact that he didn't feel he was being needlessly stubborn in this situation. This wasn't about competition to him. No, this was about him not seeing himself or his colleagues in a negative light; he couldn't fathom the distaste you had for them.

As much as you disagreed, you could understand that. You could understand how he would see the people he worked alongside as good people. It made sense that he would have a different perspective when he was the one out saving civilians from big and small horrors alike, rather than being the one to suffer the consequences of the destruction that happened as a result.

Along with your understanding, you also didn't think that Peter was a bad person. You couldn't possibly imagine him causing harm, intentionally or not, and maybe that was why you said what you did next. Maybe that was why you proposed, "I'll make you a deal. If you can prove to me that the Avengers are not who I think they are, then I'll take your stance for the speech. Give me a reason to speak positively of them, and I will."

Even now, as you made your way toward your locker at school on Monday, you weren't entirely sure what had made you decide to propose such a thing. You were pretty certain that you were setting Peter up for failure. In your eyes, there wasn't much of anything that Peter could say, do, or show you that would change your mind. Nothing would make what had happened to your sister okay or forgivable.

Yet, he clearly did not feel the same way. Peter looked as if he was walking on sunshine that morning as he pranced along beside you, a triumphant grin on his face as he whispered, "I have a plan."

"A plan?"

He grinned wider as you looked at him curiously, "Yes, a plan. To change your mind."

Quirking an eyebrow expectantly, you waited for him to elaborate as you gathered your things from your locker for class. He never did, only continuing to practically vibrate with excitement beside you in silence. "Are you going to tell me what this plan of yours is?" you prodded.

"No." When you looked at him in confusion he continued, "If I tell you what it is, you're not going to have an open mind. You're going to think of all the reasons it won't change your mind, and then it won't."

Suddenly, you were the one chasing after Peter instead of the other way around. All day you found yourself glancing to him suspiciously and following him around much like he had you in all the weeks leading up to your budding friendship, and it was a big change of pace for you. You felt a little pathetic following him like a lost puppy, but you were nosy and wanted to know what his plan was.

No matter how much you pried, though, he didn't budge. In Calculus he ignored your staring and whispers with a far too smug smirk on his face, though you secretly liked the way it looked on him. Who would have guessed that Peter Parker could be arrogant?

In Gym class he teasingly ran faster than you could keep up the moment you asked again, only slowing down once you begrudgingly promised to leave the subject alone. Though he did tell you he wouldn't run faster than you anyways because people would probably get suspicious if he suddenly turned into a track star. He had to play the roll of the un-athletic nerd regardless.

At lunch he didn't sit with you for the first time since he'd started joining you. He'd waved at you from where he sat with his friends, Ned and MJ, but you found yourself leaving the cafeteria rather than joining him. You weren't ready to take that next step yet; being open with Peter was hard enough, and you weren't ready to have to talk to two more people. Still, you tried to pretend it didn't bother you despite the little sinking feeling you felt in your stomach.

He still sat with you in Speech class, which you were relieved by. Ms. Lovell left everyone to work with their partners on their project, warning the class sternly, "You may have until the end of the semester, but don't slack off now. I'm only giving you two other class periods after now to work on this."

Peter quietly joked, "I bet she just forgot to grade our homework from last week."

When the woman sat down at her desk and pulled over a stack of papers, uncapping her favorite red-glitter pen that she always graded with, you both fell into a fit of giggles that you had to work very hard to keep quiet. It only took one glare from the teacher to have you ducking behind your book to hide how red your face turned, both from embarrassment and repressed laughter. You did, however, notice to fleeting expression of shock on her face to see it was you giggling in her class.

Not much work was done during that class, though for you and Peter the work couldn't be started yet. You still hadn't decided on a stance, and until Peter either succeeded with his plan or failed as you expected, a decision wouldn't be made. Instead, you both whispered to each other about whatever random thoughts seemed to pop into your heads in the moment.

"People are staring at me," you acknowledged, glancing around the class timidly at the sight of many students giving you curious stares, "is there something on my face?"

Peter laughed, though he quickly disguised it as a cough, and responded, "No, they're just confused."

Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the boy with the warm brown eyes who was grinning at you proudly. "Why?" you asked, shifting uncomfortably. You were used to people giving you strange looks, but these were different. They weren't looking at you as if they were pitying you, or as if they were waiting for you to finally break down and go crazy. No, now they were looking to you with wonder and interest.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a pensive expression blossoming over his face as he thought of how to say whatever he planned to tell you. For a moment you admired the way his ruffled eyebrows furrowed, his lips pouting slightly as he pursed them in concentration. Only when the strange, old fluttering in your heart and your stomach started to erupt did you look away and wrinkle your nose.

You didn't want to admit it, but you knew exactly what that feeling was. It was a feeling you hadn't encountered since before the incident, and it was a feeling you didn't want to experience now. So, you told yourself it was just nerves over having a friend again, and squashed the stupid butterflies down as hard and as fast as you could.

"Well," Peter finally started, eyes wide and a little nervous as if he expected you to potentially be offended by his words, "you haven't exactly... talked to anyone in awhile."

Suddenly, it clicked. People were staring because you weren't the reclusive, closed-off, depressed girl you had been for the past thirteen months. They were staring because you seemed... happy. "Oh." you nodded, the sound feeble and slightly broken, "I guess that makes sense."

People were staring at you because you were the girl with the dead sister who they'd been waiting to witness implode, and suddenly you were talking, and laughing, and smiling. You were talking, laughing, and smiling with Peter Parker, no less. They were looking at you because you seemed fine.

Were you fine? Peter shot you a few concerned glances as you seemed to slip back into the repression you'd been living in for so long, but you gave him a small smile as if to say, "I'm okay." You were okay.

For the first time since she died, now that you really thought about it, you truly felt okay. You felt good. You felt happy. Sure, you were terrified of the little flutters you felt whenever you stared a little too long at Peter's face, and you still felt all the bad things you'd been feeling, but now you had good things to balance them out.

It would have been so easy to slip back into that cycle of beating yourself up again. That little voice in the back of your head was still there, the one that sounded like your sister but so different at the same time, that told you that you didn't deserve to have friends. You didn't deserve to make new friends, or feel those butterflies that meant something more, not when she couldn't do those things ever again.

It would have been easy, but you didn't want that for yourself anymore. If you did that, if you pushed Peter away because of her, then you would be left with all the bad feelings and more of them. You didn't deserve that. So, you took a deep breath, and gave a more genuine smile, and met the stares head on. She would have wanted you to be happy, and you deserved to be happy.

After school, Peter left you with a swimming mind and a million thoughts of what his plan could be. He didn't mention anything, and you wondered how long you would have to wait for whatever it was to come to fruition. What could it be?

You spent the afternoon in the family room, an action that seemed to startle and befuddle your parents who watched you like hawks. Though they didn't say anything, only greeting you casually as if everything were totally normal, you could practically hear the gears turning in their heads. You could imagine their thoughts of, "Who is this alien that looks like our child?"

As confused as they were, eventually the decided to just go with it. Your mom curled up on the sofa with you, and your father fell into his recliner just like old times, and the three of you watched a movie in a comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. Nobody dared to look at or acknowledge the empty middle cushion on the sofa where she'd always sat, or your mother's empty lap that she mindlessly kept brushing her hands over as if waiting for your sister's head to be laying there waiting for her hair to be played with.

Nobody dared, until you did. You weren't entirely sure what compelled you to do it. It seemed as if you were urged to do lots of things you thought you never would these days. But, after half an hour of watching your mother's twitching hands, you laid your head on her lap and closed your eyes to avoid seeing her face.

After a moment, her fingers brushed through your wind-tangled hair and you felt peace. She had always been the one to do this. She had always been the one to burrow her way into your mother's lap, begging to have her scalp massaged or her back traced delicately, and now you understood why. It was comforting for more than one reason.

On one hand, it was just physically relaxing. But, on a more complex level, it gave you a sense of closeness you hadn't realized you'd been longing for. You felt closer with your mother who worked through the tangles in your hair with her fingers, gently scratching your scalp with her manicured fingernails. You felt closer with your sister, too. It felt as if you had a small piece of her to hold onto in that moment, and it was comforting.

By the time the movie ended, you were nearly asleep and the sun had set some time ago. Your mother was the first to break the silence, softly rousing you, "(Y/N), honey, do you want dinner?"

You did, but before you could answer, your phone rang loudly. Glancing at the screen and seeing it was Peter, you nibbled your lip to hide a smile and stated, "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute." They didn't protest as you raced up to your bedroom to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Peter practically shouted, though his voice cut out with what sounded like a windstorm. "Can you hear me?"

For a moment the audio cut out and you wondered if the call dropped, but then the crackling wind returned and you questioned, "What are you doing?"

Abruptly the sound ended, and he was breathing a little heavily as he responded, "Sorry, I was swinging--"

"Peter! Are you really on your phone while doing that?"

He laughed, "Calm down! My suit, well, Karen, the AI in my suit, is connected to my phone. Completely hands free--I promise."

Your mind flashed back to that night on the roof, the night he'd stopped you, and you remembered how he'd asked a woman named Karen what he was supposed to do. Now it all made sense. You'd been a little curious about who Karen was ever since that night, and now that you knew it was some sort of artificial intelligence that Peter had given such a human name to, you had to laugh.

"Why are you calling me, Spiderman?" you joked.

There was some quiet rustling, as if he were moving around, and he spoke quieter, "I'm on patrol. I just--maybe this is stupid, but I just thought if maybe I could show you the good things I do you'd see that we don't just destroy stuff."

It went silent for a moment before he continued, "I can't exactly take you with me, because that would be stupid, but you could listen."

You hesitated in responding. A part of you wanted to tell him that it was a stupid idea, for multiple reasons, but you decided against it. How would he ever prove anything to you if you didn't give him the chance?

So, you swallowed your protests, and said, "Okay."

"I'll warn you now it's usually pretty boring. A lot of nights I just swing around for awhile and go home without seeing anyone or anything."

That was strangely relieving. You hoped that tonight would be one of those nights; not because you didn't want him to have the chance to really enact his plan, but because you worried for him. What if having you metaphorically there with him distracted him? What if you distracted him and caused him to get hurt?

For awhile, it was a boring night. You and Peter went back and forth, taking turns telling stupid jokes to see who would crack and laugh first, and inevitably he won. He had an endless supply of disgustingly cheesy science puns that left you in stitches every time, even if you'd already seen the joke before on one of his many t-shirts.

You got him to laugh too, though, with all of the dead-pan anti-jokes you may have been secretly googling as you told them. Sometimes the wind would return, alerting you that he was swinging around the city, and every now and then he'd almost forget you were listening as he gave little exclamations of exhilaration in the moment. It was cute, even if the shouts nearly blew out your ear drum every time.

It was a boring night, until it wasn't. One moment the wind was making your phone speaker cut out, and the next it was eerily quiet and you had to pull your phone away to see if the call had dropped. Putting the device on speaker phone, you questioned quietly, "Peter?"

"I'm still here," he whispered, "I see something. Be quiet for a minute."

You listened and waited with baited breathe, probably panicking more than enough for the both of you, as Peter started speaking to Karen. He asked her to start something he called enhanced reconnaissance mode, and you were bursting with suspense and curiosity. What did he see? What was happening?

It felt like an eternity before he acknowledged you again, "Okay, I see a woman cornered by some guys. I think they're trying to... to attack her."

He didn't have to say the word for you to know what he meant, and you felt your stomach explode with anxiety and fear for a woman you couldn't even see. "What are you going to do?" you asked.

"I'm gonna web 'em up, and wait for the police with her." he stated, "I won't be able to talk for a bit, okay?"

And then, everything changed. One moment the wind was back as he swung down to the scene, and suddenly Peter was in full Spiderman mode and almost unrecognizable to you. He was sassier, playful even, despite how serious you knew he really was as he antagonized the bad guys.

The banter didn't last long. You heard the woman scream in terror as a loud ruckus rang through your phone, and Peter groaned. Was he hurt? Did he get hit? There were more thuds and dull smacking sounds, Peter and the men alike grunting and shouting out loudly as she continued to break the atmosphere with her screaming.

You wanted to call out for him, to make sure he was okay, but you were paralyzed in fear. What if you called his name and it distracted him, causing him to really get hurt? But, what if he already was hurt and forgot you were there to potentially call for help?

The fight lasted awhile, before finally the woman's screaming ceased as Peter told her, "Hey, hey! I got them, I got you. It's okay. Everything's okay."

"Peter?" you whispered.

"Everything's okay. It's going to be alright."

He was speaking to you, though he had to phrase it in a way that it sounded as if he were just speaking to her. You didn't believe him that everything was fine, though. It was easy to hear just how winded he was in the way his voice was strained, weaker than before.

Peter was hurt, and you were terrified. His plan was just as stupid as you'd thought it to be. Not because he didn't prove anything to you, because you were happy he'd saved the woman and he had shown you a good thing he did, but because he'd forced you to witness his pain and suffering yet again. You'd had to witness him actually get hurt this time, and the woman's screams still echoed in your ears.

It brought you back to that day. Her screams reminded you of the chaos following the building's collapse, reminded you of how hoarse and sore your throat had been from screaming just like that. Screams of pure horror and panic.

Only after the police finally left, thanking Spiderman for his help, did Peter drop the faux strength and softly whimper, "Shit, that really hurt."

"My window is open."

With that, you hung up and left him to decide what to do by himself.

Your mother quietly knocked at your door, opening it slowly as she poked her head into your room, "Dinner is done if you still want to eat."

Forcing the best smile you could manage, you muttered, "I'm actually not feeling very good. I think I'll just go to bed." You wished you could say you hadn't seen the disappointment written all over her face, clearly let down by you pulling away again, but she nodded nonetheless and shut the door as she trudged away again.

You laid in bed for hours unable to fall asleep, listening to every noise outside with hitched breathe. Was that little knock Peter? Was he at your window? By the time your phone told you it was nearing sunrise, you gave up. He wasn't coming, and you tried to ignore all the horrible thoughts that consumed you.

What if he was so injured he couldn't make it to you? What if he was out on the street somewhere, hurt badly and in need of help? You cursed yourself for hanging up, but you couldn't bring yourself to call him back. It was a strange battle of worry and anger, with anger winning out in the end and stopping you from reaching out.

You were angry at Peter for his stupid plan, causing you to think of all the awful things he seemed to keep at bay during the daytime. You were angry at those men for hurting him. Mostly, you were angry at yourself for being so stubborn. Why were you being prideful and letting the anger stop you from making sure he was alright?

You: are you alive

Peter Parker: yes

Peter Parker: go to sleep

Peter Parker: see you tomorrow?

You: yes. good night.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker au #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker mcu #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman #spiderman mcu #spiderman au #spiderman imagine #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland series #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Okay. Uh. The Skeleboys are tasked by SO to pick up some kids she's babysitting. They're greeted with at LEAST six different children, all looking alike, and all having a variety of personalities. Most of them are really sweet, but there are a few who are being mean to their younger siblings. One of the younger ones starts crying. What do they do in this situation? Do they scold the older siblings or do they just let it happen? Do they comfort the crying kid? I need answers.

Undertale Sans - Please save him. One kid is already hard to watch, but more than six ? Is S/O trying to punish him for something ? How could this happen to him ? Basically, Sans is sitting in the middle of the crowd, eye sockets lost in the void and he is questionning his entire life. He will vaguely say something when the kid starts to cry but he has absolutely no authority over these demonic creatures. When S/O is coming home, he is laying on the ground like a dying seastar, waiting for death to take him.

Undertale Gaster - When he tried to help that crying kid, he accidentally absorbed him. Amazed, all of the kids wanted to be absorbed. Gaster tried to stop them, but he couldn’t.They are six children totally free in the Void now. S/O is not very happy to know they might never coming back. 

Underswap Papyrus - He has a bit more authority than Sans, but he is still way too nice. He defends the kid, but the kids rapidly understand he is weak against them. When they decides to play cops and theafs with him, they tide him up in a corner... And torture him. They draw on his skull, decorated his sweater with sticked and put a watermelon in his jaw to see if he could do like the Nutcracker. When S/O is coming home, poor Honey is laying on the ground while the children are stealing biscuits in the kitchen.

Underfell Papyrus - Lol. Edge is not impressed. The second that kid hurt the other one, he growled at him with so much intensity, all the others pooped themselves. After that, no one said a word and they even proposed themselves to help clean the house. When S/O is coming home, everyone is playing quietly while Edge is watching over them in a corner, looking so proud of him S/O won’t stop hearing about this tonight.

Horrortale Sans and Papyrus - That’s ok ! At two, they are stronger ! And they know exactly what kids like : food, food, and more food. The children are pretty much eating candies until they explode. Then they had a nice trip in their farm to feed and pet the animals. The kids are so happy they want to get back everyday.

Swapfell Sans - At first, these little gremlins thought they could do what they wanted since he is so small, but at the first kid crying, Nox transformed that nice playground into military camp. You want to play it hard ? You are going to play hard, sweetie. He forced the kids to run until they’re so tired they just flop to the ground like cow fresh poop. When S/O is coming home, the kid are all sleeping while Nox is drinking tea with an innocent smile. You saw nothing, Jon Snow.

Outertale Sans - Welp. Moon made the hurt kid fly so he could reach it easily. Now all the kids want to fly. He spend all his magic on this. When S/O is coming home, he passed out on the sofa while all the kid are screaming to be the next one to fly. 

Dancefell Papyrus - This guy is a celebrity. The kids kinda harrased him until he said yes to do a Tik Tok with them and made the promotion of their snapchat profiles in front of his 12 millions subscribers on Instagram. He promised to invite them to his next show if they pretend they’re nice when S/O is coming home. He is far too proud to say that this babysitting is an absolute failure.

Ink - You put a child with six other child, what do you think would happen ? Ink decided to do a painting activity. When S/O is coming home, Ink is an alive rainbow, the children clothes are covered with green and blue spots, your red carpet is now yellow-green-purple and the wall are covered with obcene drawing. S/O is not very happy. 

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale gaster #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell #underfell papyrus #horrortale #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #swapfell #swapfell sans #outertale #outertale sans #dancefell #dancefell papyrus #ink sans #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines

[themurphyzone]

BatB AU: A Provincial Life

Summary: It’s an ordinary day in ACME Village for Pinky. Until it isn’t. 

AN: This oneshot adapts the opening number ‘Belle’ and village scenes, up until Pinky sets off for the castle in search of his father, which leads into the entry Imprisoned. 

AO3 Link

Pinky scooped a ladleful of oatmeal into a small, earthen bowl, humming dreamily as he added a dash of cinnamon and several apple slices into the mixture. 

Today was a very special day for Papa, and Pinky wanted him to eat a healthy and nutritious meal before he went off to the fair with his invention. It would be a few days of travel, and Papa would need his strength for traveling there and back. 

“Papa, I’m going out!” Pinky called as he carefully pushed a large woven basket of acorns outside. “Your breakfast is on the table, so make sure you eat it all!” 

There was a sputter and cough of machinery and a trail of smoke from the small room that served as a makeshift workshop next to the kitchen, followed by a loud bang. 

“Just getting ‘er warmed up for the final test!” Papa shouted. “C’mon, Madeleine! You may’ve fallen apart for the 264th time, but you can do it!” 

Oh, Pinky had no doubt people were gonna love the woodcutting, ax-wielding, only occasionally threatening to take fingers off machine known as Madeleine. She was definitely gonna win that gorgeous blue ribbon at the fair! And even if she didn’t, they’d love her all the same anyway. 

He opened the door and stepped into the beautiful autumn morning, taking in the cool, fresh air as he carefully maneuvered the basket of acorns into a red wagon. The leaves were varying hues of crimson and gold, dancing along a gentle breeze that ruffled Pinky’s fur. The sun was peeking over the horizon, slowly bathing the world in light as it rose.

Two songbirds flew merrily above him, their sweet morning song filling the air with beautiful music. Pinky reached up, and one of the songbirds briefly landed on his outstretched hand before flying after his partner, leaving a red feather behind. 

“Thanks for the feather!” Pinky shouted to the sky as he tucked the feather behind his ear, where it fit perfectly. 

He picked up the wagon handle and pulled it along, the wheels squeaking along behind him.  

In the meadow beside their quaint little cottage, Pharfignewton chewed placidly on dew-covered grass. She neighed a greeting to Pinky, and Pinky cheerfully waved back. As much as he loved taking the beloved family horse into town for company, she needed her strength to lug Papa, Madeleine, and all their supplies later. So he had to let her rest. 

Reeds and wildflowers of all sorts grew along the banks of the pond that separated the little cottage from the rest of ACME Village. A pair of ducks paddled along in the water, trailed by four adorable, fluffy yellow ducklings. Several tiny turtles sunbathed on an old log, while a large green frog sat on its lily pad and caught insects unlucky enough to stray in the path of a long, sticky tongue. 

Pinky took his time crossing the cobblestone bridge over the pond, watching the wild animals go about their day without hustling, bustling, or rushing from place to place. Their lives were very different from their neighbors, despite living so close together. 

Little animals, little pond, and little humans in their little town. 

Or was everything just bigger than him? He was a mouse after all. It wasn’t hard to be bigger than a mouse, unless one happened to be an insect. 

As Pinky crossed onto the other side, he spotted a smooth, pretty gray stone poking out of the reeds. He plucked it out of the damp soil, cleaning the dirt off with the inside of his apron. 

It would be a perfect stone for his collection. And he didn’t have any that were this smooth. Most of the rocks he picked up were half-crushed or broken from city streets or well-worn paths. He tucked it into a pocket that he’d sewn on himself, because for some odd reason dresses never came with pockets. 

Then he faced the little town, with all its timber and stone buildings lining a narrow cobbled street that quickly filled with half-asleep, half-awake people trying to get an early start on their sales and trades. 

To think he and Papa had lived here for three years. While not the most exciting town in the world, Pinky was just happy they didn’t have to move again. He’d spent too much of his life being bustled from place to place since Mama died. The cottage was the loveliest place they’d ever owned. 

And while the townsfolk had the same ol’ familiar routine every day, Pinky tried to vary his activities. From baking to horseback riding to volunteering for odd jobs around town, or just taking a day off to nap under a tree and roll down the hilly meadows while grass stains formed on his back.  

Just a normal provincial life, yet Pinky often wondered what laid in the big blue yonder. Did the stars and sky look different elsewhere? Do the clouds form big, fluffy, and silly shapes in South America? 

“Bonjour!” a man called out as he threw open his shutters. 

“Good morning, Emile!” Pinky replied as he skipped past his window.  

“Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!” The echoing chant swept across rooftops and streets alike as a new day dawned upon ACME Village. 

Everyone from chimney sweepers to merchants to coachmen responded with vigor and cheer, all of them satisfied with their occupations in life. 

Pinky greeted everyone he passed, though not all returned the gesture. Everyone was staring at the feather tucked behind his ear, the bulge of the stone in his pocket, or the red wagon with the basket he pulled along. He didn’t think he was that strange-looking. 

Unless he had a bit of cabbage stuck in his teeth again. But he flossed really well last night, so he didn’t think that was the case. 

“Marie, hurry up with the baguettes!” the baker shouted as he carried several loaves of bread outside. 

Pinky inhaled deeply. There was nothing quite like the scent and sound of fresh bread. 

“Narrrrrrf! Smells just like heaven, Mr. Baker!” Pinky exclaimed.  

The baker set his tray of bread on a windowsill, tapping his foot as he impatiently waited for Marie. “Morning, Pinky. You off somewhere this morning?” he asked, though he didn’t turn around. 

“Yup! I’m delivering this basket of acorns to Slappy!” Pinky said, pointing to his basket of acorns. “She really likes the acorns near our cottage but doesn’t wanna make the trip herself. She says it’s too far for her aching joints and she can’t take Skippy along because she’s still trying to convince him that we’re not gonna be shot like Bumbie’s mom if we venture into the meadow, and-” 

“Yes, yes, that’s all very nice,” the baker said, half-leaning into the open window. “Marie, I said hurry up with the baguettes! The morning rush is coming soon!”  

“Well, if you’d bought the ingredients from Francois instead of Vincent like I suggested then maybe we wouldn’t be running behind, Pierre! But no, you always act like you know best!” Marie snapped. 

Not wanting to get embroiled in yet another argument between the baker and his wife, Pinky followed the cobblestone path further into town, where the usual market sprung up, full of local farmers, tradesmen, and merchants. 

Villagers bartered and argued and traded like always, and as Pinky stopped to admire a small yellow daisy poking out from the cracks of the street, he could feel eyes follow him closely in that looking-at-you-but-pretending-we’re-not sort of way. 

“There goes the funny mouse again.” 

“Gets distracted by the littlest things, I swear.” 

“Does he even have a useful skill?” 

“Besides being the village idiot? Doubtful.” 

They’d made those comments ever since he and Papa had moved in. Everywhere they went, people asked Pinky for his trade, and Pinky always told them he took care of Papa and worked various odd jobs around the area for money. 

But that wasn’t considered a useful role in society.

He didn’t mind helping Papa though. 

Oh well though. He couldn’t delay getting these acorns to Slappy, so he hauled his wagon alongside a horse-drawn carriage that steadily cut through the crowded streets, clearing Pinky’s path.  

“Bonjour!” the coachman called to a young woman walking down the street. His eyes were trained on the girl rather than the road, and his horse plowed straight into a farmer’s cart, knocking his produce into the road.  

“MY CABBAGES!” the farmer screamed, tearing out his hair as several pigs devoured his vegetables. 

The coachman let out a nervous laugh and flicked the reins, spurring his horse forward and blithely ignoring the despairing farmer’s demands for compensation. 

“I need six eggs!” a woman cried as she tried to hold several fussing babies at once. 

“That’s too expensive!” a man complained to someone selling pottery. “Twenty coins for a pile of cheap clay? Bah!” 

Pinky and the carriage parted ways as the cobblestone street changed to an unpaved dirt path. The gossip and chatter of ACME Village faded to background noise. 

Slappy had made her home in a hollow tree on the outskirts of town, close enough to get supplies but far enough to deter most from knocking on her door. 

Pinky passed by many warning and danger signs that kept most people from bothering the old squirrel. There was a new post up today, right next to Slappy’s front door. 

LAST WARNING 

NO SELLING, NO PREACHING, NO TAX COLLECTING 

KNOCK AT YOUR OWN RISK 

Well, what was life without a little risk? Pinky knocked on the door anyway. 

He was trying to decide if one of the clouds overhead was shaped more like a monkey or a strawberry when a small brown squirrel in a blue nightgown and cap opened the door. Despite the early morning, he was wide awake and hopping in place, his excitement only growing as he spotted the basket of acorns behind Pinky.  

“Morning, Skippy! Got the basket of acorns your aunt wanted!” Pinky exclaimed.

Skippy grinned as he took the basket from the wagon. “Thanks, Pinky! Aunt Slappy will love these!” 

He popped a few acorns into his mouth and loudly crunched the shells. 

“Skippy, what’d I say about answering the door at this godforsaken hour in the morning?” a cranky voice yelled from upstairs.

“It’s just Pinky with the acorns, Aunt Slappy! No door to door salespeople, preachers, or tax collectors in sight!” Skippy shouted. Then he turned back to Pinky and pointed to his ear. “I like your feather, by the way.” 

“Thanks! I like your nightcap!” Pinky said, returning the compliment with his own. 

A few moments later, Slappy joined Pinky and Skippy downstairs. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her long gray tail dragging behind her. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Slappy asked. She tossed several acorns into her mouth and nodded her approval. “Crunchy with a pinch of salt. This is gonna be a good topping for my world-renowned creamed spinach later.” 

“SPEEWWWWWWWWW!” Skippy cried, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

Pinky just smiled politely. Slappy took a lot of pride in her creamed spinach recipe, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying it tasted like soggy socks. 

“Hey, when I was your age, I ate lots of creamed spinach for dinner. And now I have enough muscles to wield a hundred ton mallet,” Slappy retorted. 

“Wow! Was that when dinosaurs roamed the earth?” Skippy asked. 

Slappy gave him a light smack on the back of his head. “Little brat. Go grab a few coins from the bureau in my room. Gotta pay the mouse for lugging this stuff across town.” 

Skippy blew a raspberry at her and ran up the stairs. 

“Your tongue is never gonna go back in your mouth if you keep doing that!” Slappy yelled. 

Funny how the Squirrels were his best neighbors, even though they lived on the opposite side of town. They’d helped out so much when Pinky and Papa first moved into the countryside cottage, from showing them all the best places to buy from and all the best trees to climb. Everyone else usually stared at them strangely for not knowing how to find a shop and moved on with their day. 

Still, Pinky didn’t want to impose on them or anything. Collecting the acorns was no trouble at all. And he knew money could be a little tight in the village at times. 

“You don’t have to pay me,” Pinky said. “Poit. I don’t mind the morning exercise.” 

“You’re walkin’ outta here with those coins whether you like it or not,” Slappy said in a tone that invited no room for argument. “Don’t be one of ‘em honor before reason types. That sorta mindset is nothing but trouble.” 

Slappy’s long tail flicked in irritation, accidentally knocking a framed painting askew on the wall next to her. She sighed and fixed the crooked painting so that it hung straight. “Can never keep this darn thing straight,’ she muttered. 

Pinky had been inside the hollow tree many times, but he’d never seen this painting before. It contained a colorful cast of characters, from a carrot-munching gray rabbit to a crazy black duck to a short gunslinger with an enormous bright red mustache. 

In the painting, a youthful Slappy with a manic grin on her face and giant firecracker in her hand was chasing a bald hunter. Her smile was brighter, and her eyes didn’t seem so world-weary there.

“Like it? Old pals sent it to me two weeks ago,” Slappy asked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “The Looney Tunes Troupe were a rascally bunch, that’s for sure. All the money for a detailed painting, and they can’t afford a better frame. Our shows were legendary back in the day, you know.” 

“Never heard of them,” Pinky admitted. 

“Course ya haven’t,” Slappy sighed. “Your generation doesn’t know good comedy when it hits them in the bum with a mallet. Troupe’s faded into obscurity now, but they’ve never stopped traveling and being annoying yet lovable nuisances to everyone from Albuquerque to Kalamazoo to Timbuktu.” 

Pinky tilted his head. “But you don’t travel anymore.” 

If the Squirrels needed something they couldn’t get in ACME Village, they usually asked Pinky to run the errand for them. 

“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Slappy said. “Sometimes you’re a nomad with total freedom and other times you gotta flee with your nephew to a different country.” 

Before Pinky could ask more questions, Skippy barreled downstairs with as many coins as he could carry. “I didn’t know how much to grab so I just took a handful,” Skippy said, dumping the currency onto a small side table. 

Slappy picked up six coins from the pile and dropped them into a small drawstring bag, then tightened the strings and tossed the bag into Pinky’s wagon. “You can have these. I’ve got plenty more lying around,” she said. 

“If you're sure then,” Pinky said, picking up his wagon handle and turning it around. “Love to stay, but Papa’s leaving for the fair soon and I gotta see him off!” 

“Tell him we said hi!” Skippy shouted, and Pinky saluted back. 

Slappy yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “And I’m hitting the hay again. It’s too damn early, and I’m too tired to censor my swearing in front of kids.” 

o-o-o-o-o  

After his visit to Slappy’s tree, Pinky decided to kill some time at ACME Village’s fountain, where he could enjoy the fine spray of water and run in circles along the stone rim. It was always fun seeing how fast he could go without tipping into the water.

“Sorry!” he shouted as he accidentally trod over freshly washed sheets that a woman had been folding next to the fountain. She made an indignant noise and carried her basket of laundry away, nose high in the air. 

And the whispers started up again. 

“That mouse may be a beauty, but he is way too peculiar for his own good.” 

“You have to wonder if he’s feeling well.” 

“Always a dreamy, far-off look on his face.” 

On his tenth lap around the fountain, a flock of sheep strolled by, guided by a young shepherd from behind. Two fluffy ewes jumped onto the fountain rim next to Pinky and drank the water. Pinky smiled and stroked their soft wool, and the ewes bleated in contentment.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Pinky whispered into their ears. “Don’t go blabbing this to anyone now...but I believe Papa’s a shoo-in for that blue ribbon!” 

One of the ewes turned and nibbled on his ear, and Pinky laughed as her blocky teeth tugged and tickled his fur. He gently pried her jaw open and his ear popped out of her mouth, dripping wet with sheep saliva.

As Pinky prepared to slide off the fountain rim and onto the small bag of money he’d gotten from Slappy, a regal fanfare went off in the distance, thundering hoofbeats growing ever closer. 

A messenger in a white powdered wig blew his coronet and cleared his throat. 

“HEAR YE! HEAR YE! MAKE WAY FOR HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, PRINCE SNOWBALL AND HIS HUNTING PARTY!” 

The messenger’s declaration sent every man, woman, and child running towards the plaza, gathering in front of the entrance of the local tavern, the centerpoint of all social activities in ACME Village. 

The hunting party rode in on their enormous horses, spearheaded by the ruler of the province, Prince Snowball. Though only a small hamster, he was famed by all for his keen mind and ability to get results on whatever he set out to accomplish. 

Though dressed in only a simple red shirt and breeches for hunting, the only signs of his higher status being the golden crown upon his head and the expensive black horse he rode, his presence commanded respect and awe. 

Behind him, a hunting party consisting of the best huntsmen and archers in the land dragged an enormous buck, two wild boars, and several pheasants into view. 

“People of ACME Village, tonight we shall dine on these fine specimens of the animal kingdom!” Snowball announced as everyone bowed in fear of a noble’s anger. “Everyone’s presence is required, for I have a further declaration that shall lift this derelict province out of the ashes and into a glorious future!” 

His pink eyes were sharp, but beneath that layer of intelligence, there was an undertone of something that didn’t feel right. Pinky couldn’t explain it, but he always just had this odd, icky feeling that crawled up his spine whenever he saw Snowball.

The crowd straightened up, cheering and clapping and praising Prince Snowball’s name for bringing them such good fortune with the promise of more to come. 

Pinky’s ear twitched. There was a soft, desperate sound mixed in with the roars of the captivated audience.

And to the left side of the crowd, there was a tiny lamb whose back leg was tangled in a large fishing net. The mother ewe was both nuzzling the lamb in comfort and trying to pull the net off with her teeth, but to no avail. 

The shepherd never noticed his sheep were in trouble, too caught up in hailing Prince Snowball to notice one of his charges was stuck. 

Pinky hopped off the fountain and slowly walked over to the thrashing lamb and his mother, putting his hands up to show them he wasn’t a threat. The lamb bleated in panic, and the mother eyed Pinky warily. 

“May I help? I’m good at untangling stuff,” Pinky asked. He’d gotten a lot of practice when Papa occasionally tangled himself up in threads and wires. 

The ewe regarded him for a long moment, then nuzzled the back of her lamb’s head, letting him bury his head into her wool. The lamb’s trembling stopped, his back leg still. 

It was a sweet gesture, one that seemed so familiar to him, even though his own mother had long passed. He remembered that feeling of warmth and safety from so long ago, the last time he felt like he was truly home. 

Wiping a stray tear from his eye, Pinky untangled the mesh from the lamb’s leg, starting from the top and slowly moving down to the hoof. 

“There you go, baby,” Pinky said once the leg was completely free. The lamb pulled his hoof out of the netting, gave it a good shake, then joyfully pranced and bleated around his mother and Pinky. 

The mother gave Pinky a tiny nod, bleated to her little one, and together they rejoined their flock. The shepherd was still ignoring his flock in favor of Prince Snowball. Pinky couldn’t see him anymore from the ground. 

Pinky picked up his wagon handle, ready to go home and help Papa hitch everything up to Pharfignewton.

Then he felt a pair of fingers pluck the feather he’d lovingly tucked behind his ear. Pinky turned to get his feather back, and jumped when Snowball was just inches from his face. 

“Hello, Pinky,” Snowball said. He smiled, but it was more out of smugness than a real smile. 

Pinky’s ears lowered, but then he remembered his manners. “Bonjour, Prince Snowball. May I have my feather please? A really nice bird gave that to me.” 

Snowball frowned, holding the feather out of Pinky’s reach. The feather crinkled in his tight grip. “How could you possibly need this? It’s hardly good quality for even the cheapest quills.” 

“Poit. It doesn’t need to be a quill to make me happy,” Pinky replied. 

Snowball rolled his eyes, tossing the feather behind him. Pinky tried to grab it, but it was caught on a gust of wind and drifted to the ground. It landed in a mud puddle, soaking the barbs of the feather and staining it brown. 

“Pinky, get your head out of the clouds and pay attention to important matters,” Snowball’s lip curled as he blocked Pinky from retrieving his feather. “Such as showing royals courtesy when they address a peasant like you.”  

“Excuse me, Snowball,” Pinky said politely, going around the hamster to pick up his feather. The damage didn’t look too bad. Still, he tried to be careful when he cleaned it with his apron. 

Snowball crossed his arms, and the town’s whispers started up again. 

How dare he not show proper respect to Snowball, does he fancy himself higher than a prince, why would Snowball pay him any individual attention and not someone more deserving. 

“That’s Prince Snowball to you.” Snowball’s fur bristled for a moment, but he took a deep breath and put his arms around Pinky’s shoulders instead. “The whole town's talking about you and your lack of...purpose. And we can’t have that, you realize. After all, a machine requires all of its cogs and gears to run smoothly, otherwise it won’t work.” 

“Bet his crackpot father would know something about that!” one of Snowball’s men chortled. 

Everyone laughed, even Snowball, who rarely did so. An unfamiliar feeling boiled in Pinky’s stomach. 

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” Pinky snapped. His inventions were amazing and he was going to do well at the fair! They didn’t know how hard Papa worked on his inventions! 

Snowball glared at his men. “Yes, don’t talk about his father that way, you fools!” he hissed like Pinky hadn’t heard him laughing just seconds ago. 

“He’s not a crackpot! His invention’s gonna win the blue ribbon cause it was made with smarts and love, you’ll see!” Pinky declared, just as an explosion went off in the distance. 

And he knew exactly where that explosion had come from. 

“I have to go. Goodbye!” Pinky dragged his wagon behind him, setting off for the cottage he and Papa called home. 

“It’s a pity and a sin, 

He doesn’t quite fit in. 

He really is a funny mouse, 

A beauty but a funny mouse, 

He really is a funny mouse, 

THAT PIN-” 

The sharp, high-pitched crack of a rifle interrupted the village’s song, and everyone ran for cover. 

“WILL YA SHUT UP? SOME OF US ARE TRYIN’ TA SLEEP!” Slappy shouted from her tree, her screech blowing tiles and lumber from the roofs of buildings. 

Just a provincial life in this little town. Pinky ran across the cobblestone bridge, wondering if he truly had the right to ask for something more than that.

o-o-o-o-o

He hurried over to the cellar, where smoke trailed from the gaps of the heavy wooden doors. Pinky opened the entrance, and a smoky cloud blew right in his face. He coughed and waved it away, hiding his nose in his dress as he hurried over to Papa, who’d been thrown onto his back. A pile of broken wooden planks covered him. 

In the corner, Madeleine sputtered, her gears and dials spinning wildly before she finally quieted down, one loose spring sending a gear crashing into a wall. 

“Dagnabbit, Madeleine!” Papa cursed, stumbling as he extracted himself from the pile of wooden planks. Pinky grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, checking him over for any injuries. Luckily, there were no bruises or splinters to be found. “Don’t you stall out on me now!” 

Pinky smiled. Papa’s string of random gibberish and mutterings of smart inventor words he couldn’t understand was something he’d been familiar with from a young age. No matter where they lived, it was just one of those things that came with home. 

Papa huffed, untying his apron with all his tools and tossing it to the ground. “She’ll never work in time for the fair! What was I thinking?” he lamented. “It’s not too late. Maybe I can cobble something else together quickly! Yes, I’ll just take the doowhatzit out of Madeleine, combine it with the kaleidomajiggy from the old washer, and-” 

“You always say that, Papa,” Pinky said, hugging his father around the shoulders. Papa rested his hands over Pinky’s with a sigh. “Don’t worry. I believe Madeleine will work, and she’ll win you that blue ribbon and help you become an inventor for the history books! Narf! Just like Benjamin Franklin, ‘cept without all the kite-flying.” 

“You really think so?” Papa asked, his frown turning to a hopeful smile. 

“Course I do,” Pinky grinned. 

A determined look crossed Papa’s face, and he tied his apron around his waist, nearly tripping over it in the process.

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s fix ‘er up!” Papa said, laying down on a flat, low cart and pushing himself under the broken stove that made up Madeleine’s main body. “So how was your morning in town?” 

“A little birdie gave me a feather. I found a pretty stone by the pond. And I delivered the acorns to the Squirrels. Did you know Slappy used to be a part of a traveling troupe? I didn’t.” Pinky recanted his morning to Papa as tools clinked and scratched against metal. “Oh, and I guess you’ll be missing Prince Snowball’s feast tonight. They’ll have venison and wild boar there.” 

“A feast? That sounds nice. Much better than inn food,” Papa mused. As usual, only part of what Pinky said ever registered with him. “Are you going?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Pinky admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a good party...but Prince Snowball is-um, what’s a good word for him?” 

“Rich? Smart? Confident?” Papa suggested. “He’s been talkin’ to you a lot lately.” 

So everyone’s noticed, even Papa who spent much of his time in the cellar that doubled as a workshop. 

“He has,” Pinky agreed. “And he says he can give me a purpose. But...I don’t know. I don’t think he’s right for me. Maybe I’m just as odd as they say I am.” 

It was the same everywhere they settled. No matter what Pinky tried to do, the whispers always followed him. He noticed strange things, he wore strange clothes, he and Papa were always strangers in towns where everyone knew each other from birth. 

Papa slid out from under Madeleine, wearing a silly helmet on his head that gave him huge, bug-like eyes. 

“My son is odd?” Papa asked in disbelief, and Pinky laughed. The helmet always made Papa look silly. “Don’t know where these folks get their ideas from…anyway, I think Madeleine’s all ready to go. Care to give her a whirl?”

“Zort! Am I!” Pinky clapped his hands together. Papa pointed to a lever, which Pinky pulled with all his might. 

Madeleine’s bells and whistles sounded, water steadily pumping through her system while steam filled her stove. Pulleys and gears turned along her sides, reaching the front. Her dials quivered until they reached the red zone, and the ax at her front swung down, scoring a deep cut in a block of firewood. The ax swung faster and faster, until one final split the firewood in half and sent one chunk flying. 

Pinky and Papa ducked, and the chunk flew over their heads and landed perfectly on a pile of firewood against the wall. 

“She works!” Pinky shouted in joy, kissing one of Madeleine’s wooden wheels. “You did it, Papa!” 

“I did?” Papa murmured. “I did! 265th time’s the charm, Pinky! Look out fair, I’m on my way!” 

o-o-o-o-o

Within the hour, Madeleine was wheeled out from the workshop, covered and tied up with a tarp, and hitched to Pharfignewton. 

“Bye, Fig,” Pinky said, hugging his beloved horse’s muzzle. “Keep Papa on track to the fair, okay? You know how he likes taking shortcuts.” 

Pharfignewton whinnied gently, planting a sloppy kiss on top of Pinky’s head.

Then Pinky embraced Papa, who returned the hug with the same enthusiasm. And he was reminded of how the mouse and horse he considered his home would be leaving for some time. He wished he could go with them, but someone had to keep house and he was the best one for the job. It wouldn’t be for long, but he’d miss them all the same. 

A stray tear dropped. Just another reason he was considered odd. He cried so easily. 

“Chin up, Pinky,” Papa murmured, rubbing a soothing circle into Pinky’s back. “I’ll win that blue ribbon along with the prize money, and we’ll begin our lives anew within the week.”  

Through his tears, Pinky gave him a wobbly smile. Then he helped Papa onto Pharfignewton’s back. 

“Take care!” Pinky called as Papa flicked the reins, and Pharfignewton trotted off at a steady pace, dragging Madeleine behind her. He watched them from atop the highest hill in the meadow, as they went further down the well-worn trail that merchants used for their travels. 

Then they were nothing but specks in the distance, swallowed by the thick, twisted branches of the forest. It was an unusual forest, one where the trees lost their leaves in early autumn, making the trees look scarier than they actually were for half the year. 

With nothing else to do outside, Pinky went back into the empty cottage. He’d had three years to become familiar with this house, full of odds and ends from Papa’s inventions alongside their meager belongings. 

Mama’s cloak hung from a place of honor on a coat rack by the door, one of the few belongings Pinky could take along no matter where they lived. 

Hours passed, and Pinky already missed the banging and exploding and sputtering of Papa’s inventions. It was just too quiet without them. 

He cleaned the red feather and pretty stone, then added them to his collection. Feathers and rocks didn’t take up a lot of room, and like Mama’s cloak, they could easily be taken to new places as well. He was just very careful not to lose them. 

The wagon was tucked away by the door, and the small bag of money was tucked inside a flower pot. It was how Papa always stored money, and Pinky had picked up the habit. 

There wasn’t much to do. He’d cleaned the cottage several days ago, cellar notwithstanding. That was Papa’s territory, and he always had trouble finding tools when Pinky put them away.

Suppertime approached. 

He could either cook dinner or go to the feast. 

Didn’t matter what he chose. He would be lonely either way. 

A sharp rap on the door startled him out of his thoughts. How strange. People only knocked at this time when there was an emergency. 

“Sorry for taking so long. I wasn’t expecting-” Pinky opened the door, and he immediately stood face-to-face with Prince Snowball. They were so close that their noses nearly touched. “-to see you here, Snowball. Um, this is a surprise. Poit.” 

Snowball’s pink eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Pinky remembered that Snowball preferred to be addressed with his full title. “Yes, it’s not often that someone of my standing chooses to grace a peasant’s home with their presence.”   

Behind Snowball, there was an entourage of townsfolk. Many wore their Sunday best, which was still quite cheap compared to the royal finery that Snowball bore. A fine red coat, a decorative golden cape slung over one shoulder, and white dress pants. A shiny crown embedded with rubies and emeralds sat atop his head. 

“I thought you were all at the tavern for the feast,” Pinky admitted. 

Snowball laughed, but it was a joyless laugh. He stepped across the threshold without being invited in. 

“Why, Pinky. Your hovel is positively primeval,” Snowball said, wrinkling his nose in disdain. He tugged Mama’s cloak off its hook, stared at it for a moment, then carelessly tossed it behind him. “If this is how you live, then it’s a truly auspicious time for me to come and offer you an opportunity out of this squalor.” 

Before Pinky could ask what auspicious was, though he figured it had something to do with Austria, Snowball harshly dug his fingers into Pinky’s shoulders. Pinky tried to pry them off, but the fingers just burrowed further into the fabric of his dress. 

“Not to worry, dear Pinky,” Snowball said. “Today is the day all your dreams come true.” 

“You mean my dream to find a home and a porpoise? Because I don’t know if we have enough money to live by the ocean. Beachside properties get very pricey, you know,” Pinky asked. 

Snowball waved off that concern. “You forget that finances are of no consequence for me. But I digress. For now, allow me to plant the image of a wonderful future in your vacant mind.” 

“Okay, but I don’t know how you’re gonna water it,” Pinky said. 

“Picture this,” Snowball demanded, leading Pinky around the cottage. “A magnificent castle. Two golden thrones, mine higher than the queen’s of course. A few summer homes to expand my sphere of influence. A court of other royals, lesser nobles, while the servants do all the menial work around the fires and kitchen. We’ll have...oh, six or seven.”     

“Servants?” Pinky grinned nervously as Snowball leaned in with a chuckle. 

“Castles, Pinky. How else would I showcase my power?” Snowball corrected. “And the townsfolk shall become our servants. It will save me the trouble of setting up a hiring process anyway. Besides, you’d appreciate having familiar faces around. Less of an adjustment period.” 

Pinky freed himself from Snowball’s grip. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Snowball shrugged. “But in simplest terms, I require a queen. One who is good at smiling, waving, and entertainment.” 

Wouldn’t that person become a princess rather than a queen though? 

Snowball must’ve seen the question coming. He paused in front of the mirror to adjust his crown. 

“There is but one title higher than a prince, Pinky,” Snowball said once he was finished. “In order to qualify for the kingship, it’s required of me to marry first. And do you know who that queen will be?” 

“Elizabeth? Victoria?” Pinky wilted under Snowball’s intense stare. “Um...Cleopatra, final answer?” 

Snowball shook his head. “It will be you, Pinky.” 

A queen? He’d always just been the inventor’s son. An outcast no matter where he lived. How could he possibly be a queen? 

“That’s a very generous offer, Snowball,” Pinky said, once he finally found his words again. 

“Isn’t it, though?” Snowball said smugly. “You and your father will live in an extravagant new home as you perform your queenly duties, and I will be forever hailed as King Snowball. Both of us shall benefit.”

Maybe he and Papa could live in better conditions. Maybe they didn’t have to move around anymore. Maybe they could afford shoes for Pharfignewton. But at the same time…it wouldn’t be right. 

It wouldn’t be home. 

Smiling, waving, entertaining. Was that all he was good for? Was that all Snowball thought he could do? 

“I thought...marriage was for love,” Pinky said softly. “That’s what Papa always said.” 

Snowball rolled his eyes. “It’s a political marriage. It doesn’t have to be built on love.” 

Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

It was one of the earliest morals Pinky had learned. 

Wish for a home, only for it to be a castle. Wish for a purpose, and it’s to be married without love as a foundation. 

“Snowball...I’m speechless,” Pinky said, backing out the front door. He nearly tripped over the welcome mat, but regained his footing. “I...I really don’t know what to say.” 

Not even a narf would help him out of this situation. 

“Say that you’ll marry me, Pinky,” Snowball replied, and he stalked toward Pinky like a cunning predator, backing him against the edge of the porch. “And after you say yes, I will announce our engagement to the rest of ACME Village at the feast. Attendance is mandatory for a reason.” 

“I’m really, really sorry, Snowball,” Pinky said. He’d backed up too far, and the heels of his feet dangled precariously over the edge. Instincts kicking in, Pinky grabbed Snowball’s shoulder to pull himself to safety, though he underestimated his strength. Snowball yelped as he was pulled over the edge, falling into the mud puddle by the staircase. 

Oops.  

“Sorry, Snowball! But I just don’t deserve you,” Pinky admitted. 

The mud-covered crown slipped around Snowball’s head, covering his eyes until he took it off with an annoyed grunt. 

Pinky slipped back into the house, grabbed a small towel, and handed it to one of Snowball’s men. 

Claude, if he remembered right. 

“He can have that one,” Pinky told Claude, who gingerly took the towel like it was a fragile item. 

Snowball crawled out of the mud, his royal clothing covered in gunk and sticks. He stomped out of the mud, hands clenching against his sides. 

Snowball’s brow lowered, his pink eyes hidden in humiliation and a quiet, seething fury. 

Slowly, Pinky retreated into the cottage and hid behind the door. There was something about that look that terrified him. And it wasn’t the fun kind of fear, either. 

“You will consider my offer, Pinky. Make no mistake about that,” Snowball spat, his scrutinizing gaze directly on Pinky, despite the door between them. “Claude, quit being daft and hand me that towel already!” 

Pinky waited in the cottage until he could no longer hear their voices or footsteps. They must’ve gone back to the tavern for the feast. 

He didn’t feel hungry though. Snowball’s proposal left a sour taste in his mouth, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

“He asked me to marry him,” Pinky said to his mother’s cloak, which was still crumpled on the floor. He gently picked it up, brushed off the wrinkles, and put it on. The fabric was warm against his back, like being wrapped in a ginormous embrace. “But he doesn’t love me. Narf! You can’t have a marriage without love!” 

He thought of all the married couples he knew in ACME Village. The baker couple, who were constantly at each other’s throats. Gerard the butcher was always making googly eyes at any woman who bought cuts of meat, much to his wife’s frustration. There was the stressed lady who had to drag her six kids around town while her husband played cards and darts at the tavern.

And Pinky thought of his parents. His mother had fallen in love with his father’s inventive streak when she was the daughter of a town official and Papa was just the crazy mouse whose inventions blew up a lot. 

He tied the cloak tighter around himself. Unable to take the silence of the cottage and the stifling influence of the village much longer, he allowed his feet to carry him out of the cottage and to wherever they wanted to go. 

He sprinted into the unknown. He wouldn’t be afraid of whatever he found there. The autumn wind blew golden, red, and brown leaves in whichever direction it wished as Pinky climbed the highest hill in the gorgeous flower-filled meadow. 

The peak of the hill was his favorite spot, and he was surprised that nobody else came out here to enjoy the view with him. Trees lost their colorful leaves so they could sleep for the winter, the river splashed and babbled along its banks, and proud mountains with mysterious cloud-covered peaks rose high above the landscape.

What laid beyond villages and towns, he didn’t know. 

There was something in that great wide somewhere for him. Just a feeling, an inkling, a hunch. 

But could he truly go exploring it when his home was here? 

Maybe he could convince Papa. Somehow. When Papa came back with the prize money, they could fit Pharfignewton with her shoes and they could all explore together! 

Staring into the autumn landscape, Pinky sank to his knees, careful not to squish the daisies and dandelions around him. 

Maybe that was home, but…

He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. Would he ever figure that out? 

He loved Papa, but he couldn’t really talk to him. And Slappy had her hands full with such an energetic nephew. Pinky didn’t want to impose. Everyone in the village gossiped about him, like he couldn’t understand. 

But he did. 

And it hurt. 

“Would be nice to talk to someone. Anyone, really,” he whispered, and he blew on a cluster of dandelion puffs. His wish scattered along the wind.

Pinky picked up more dandelion puffs. If he blew more around, maybe his wish would come true. And dandelion flowers were very pretty. 

Maybe they were considered weeds, but how could anyone call such a sunshine-y yellow flower a pest? He didn’t get it.

Then a distant, familiar neigh caught him off-guard. 

Pinky thumped his hand against his ear. Maybe he was missing Pharfignewton so much that he heard her voice? 

But he’d recognize her magnificent white coat and spirited blue eyes anywhere. 

“Easy, Pharfignewton! It’s okay!” Pinky cried. He scrambled up Pharfignewton’s leg, avoided her flailing hoof, and held onto her muzzle as she bucked and reared in sheer panic. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay…” 

Pharfignewton quieted down, her frantic neighs melting into soft, worried nickers as Pinky stroked her nose. She stopped kicking, though she was wide-eyed with fear. 

Madeleine wasn’t hitched to Pharfignewton. Nor was she wasn’t the only one missing…

And Pinky suddenly understood his horse’s panic. 

“Pharfignewton, where’s Papa?” Pinky asked. “Is he okay? How did you get separated? Did he try another shortcut when I told him not to do it?”  

Pharfignewton’s hooves shuffled, and Pinky forced himself to take a deep breath. He was scaring her with all these questions, so he nuzzled her between the eyes in apology. Still, his heart raced with panic. 

From the top of the hill, he saw thick, gray clouds rolling in from the mountains. The temperature was dropping fast. 

An early winter would be upon them. They had to find Papa quickly. 

“Please, Pharfignewton. We’ve gotta find him,” Pinky pleaded. 

She whinnied in agreement, and galloped into the strange forest with all its dangerous, twisted branches before Pinky had a chance to settle in his usual spot at the base of her neck. 

Don’t worry, Papa. I’m on my way. 

End AN: Well, this is beast is complete (no pun intended). 

Yeah, poor Pinky’s usual charm doesn’t really work here. Poor mouse. 

Slappy is fun to write, not gonna lie. Love her cartoony antics. She’s also led quite the interesting life in this AU. 

The reason Snowball didn’t show up sooner was because I wasn’t sure how to tweak the proposal scene to fit. Cause for one thing, Snowball is way smarter than Gaston, but just as arrogant to boot. So I changed Snowball’s motivation into marrying Pinky because it will help him gain a higher title than a prince. He doesn’t actually love Pinky in this AU, but he’s very annoyed at him for that stunt with the mud puddle (though it’s accidental on Pinky’s part rather than intentional like Belle’s). 

The reason Snowball doesn’t go seeking a princess’s hand to gain the kingship is cause he tried that already. It was Billie of a nearby kingdom. It didn’t go well. 

Also yes the village is named ACME Village because I’m lazy and can’t come up with anything better. 

#pinky and the brain #patb snowball #beauty and the beast au #patb fanfiction

[haikyuulovercompany]

Hii! May I request a scenario for Kuroo and a character of your choice? Whoever you feel like writing. Could it be angsty? Their s/o has a very big, visible scar on their face, which they got when they were younger. They don't seem bothered by it unless someone asks for the details, in which case they get defensive. And when people who knew them before what happened go like, "You used to be so beautiful back then" they get insecure. Please feel free not to write it if it makes you uncomfortable♡

So, I was unable to make it really angsty... so i did more of a comfort piece that i hope that whoever feels a insecure on any degree, feels a little bit more loved... and since you let me choose one character, it was obviously my boyfriend Tendou ! Hope you enjoy (: 

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Tetsuro Kuroo

Meeting the family of a new partner was always nerve-wracking. For Kuroo it was, at least. He was spending the weekend at ______’s hometown ready to get to know better the person he had happened to fall in love with more than seven months ago. Kuro had met ______ on his second semester in college. It was supposed to be an early night for him. He was supposed to have a couple drinks and then leave. However, as soon as ______ had appeared, he decided he could stay a couple more minutes. They had happened to be friends with his friends, and it had been a coincidence for them to choose the same bar as them. Kuroo didn’t believe much in coincidences, and started to believe in fate. What could’ve been the odds? Those few minutes became a couple more hours, and he had ended up walking ______ to their dorm at five in the morning.

The chemistry had been spontaneous, and he hadn’t let them go ever since that day. He genuinely saw a future with ______, and giving their parents a good impression was in his best interest.

______ rubbed his arm reassuringly as they stepped out of the taxi. Kuroo took a look at the house, and breathed in. “It’ll be okay. They’re nice,” they said. He nodded, keeping his cool.

He followed them down the graveled path leading to the front door. ______ rang the bell a couple times, and flashed him another smile. He fixed his jacket as if there something he could do. They had hopped off from an airplane, and he looked exactly like that. His hair was slightly more disheveled than usual, and he was sure he didn’t smell that nice either. He hoped his personality could make up for it.

The door opened showing two shining smiles. ______ went straight for a hug. While their father hugged them, their mother pulled Kuroo inside the house. “It’s so good to meet you,” she said cheerfully. “He’s such a handsome boy, ______. Where did you find him?”

“Lost in the streets. Like a stray cat,” they joked. Their parents rolled their eyes at them.

“Well, lucky you,” their mother told ______, and winked an eye at Kuroo. “Go and get comfortable. Dinner is not ready yet.”

“Yes. I’m dying for a shower,” they claimed, heading for the stairs without saying anything more.

“Thank you very much,” Kuroo made sure to say, never losing his manners.

“Oh, it’s our pleasure. Go ahead.”

Kuro nodded, and shuffled a little on his place before joining ______ on the stairs. They chuckled at him and shook their head. Neither of them said anything else until they were in the safeness of the bedroom they were using for the weekend. It was ______’s childhood bedroom. Kuroo’s curiosity perked up. He chose the bookshelf first, inspecting what kind of books they had collected through their early years. “Do you want to take a shower first?” they asked, sitting next to their

“No, go ahead.”

“Okay. Knock if you need anything.”

They locked themselves on the bathroom leaving Kuroo alone in the room. He continued going through the shelves. It was easy to tell which books had been for school, and which others had been bought for a personal preference. He stumbled upon a couple of photo frames. Standing with ______ were a couple of people he had never seen—their friends from their old school most probably. The first one was from somewhen around high school. The second one was different for one special detail: there was no scar on ______ face. They were much younger than in the previous photo, way before the accident which caused the scar on their face. He continued inspecting the room, not putting much more attention to it. Once he was done, he laid down on the bed, and scrolled through his phone, waiting for his turn without a hurry. He was grateful he could rest a little after the trip.

Within half an hour both were ready. While they hadn’t made a big effort on their appearance since they were staying home for the rest of the day, Kuroo combed his hair anyway. He wouldn’t dare to go down to have dinner with his hair in a complete mess. “Looking fine,” ______ teased him.

He smirked. “I’m trying to give a good impression.”

“I see that, thank you.” They stood on the tip of their toes and kissed him on the cheek. It meant a lot to ______ to see Kuroo taking the trip seriously, and he knew this. It also meant a lot to him. He had been excited when ______ invited him to meet their parents. It was taking their relationship to a more formal ground, and he was in for it. He wanted nothing more than to solidify his commitment to their relationship.

______ exited the room first. He had never been a shy guy, but he preferred to stay behind and be cautious with his actions. No matter how much ______ and he were alike, their parents could be another story. It wouldn’t be the first time an apple fell too far from the tree.

As they approached the first floor, they heard a third voice. ______ frowned, immediately turning to see their boyfriend with a worried face. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“That’s my aunt. She’s… kind of careless with what she says.” They huffed. “I didn’t know she was coming.”

“You parents probably told her you would be here and wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, probably. I wished they didn’t to be honest. Whatever she says don’t take it personal, okay?”

“No problem,” he assured her with a casual yet confident grin.

The table was set for five people, confirming ______. Their aunt was staying for dinner and they hoped she didn’t make things too awkward. She came into the room as soon as she heard the pair, a big smile spreading across her face. She hurried to their side, embracing one at a time in a tight hug, almost taking the air out of the two of them. Just like their mother had done, she complimented Kuroo on his looks. He pretended to be shy, but they knew he was enjoying all the attention deep inside.

They helped to bring the food to the table, falling into casual conversation. ______ relaxed. Their aunt seemed to be on her best behavior. No imprudent comment had been made yet. They weren’t worried about what Kuroo would think. They worried on how awkward the night could be turned thanks to her.

They were in the middle of their food when their aunt cleared her throat as she wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “For how long have you two been together?”

“Eleven months to be exact,” Kuroo answered.

“Wow, almost a whole year. That’s so sweet,” ______’s mother commented, giving the two a tender look.

“It is, right?” Kuroo answered with a slight grin. They exchanged glances with him briefly. ______ held back their giggles. Kuroo could never turned off his confident personality. They would never admit it out loud, but they adored that part of him. Admitting out loud would cause far more teasing from his part.

“You’re such a cute couple,” their aunt followed. “Had they showed you pictures of ______ before the scar? They used to be so beautiful back then.”

______ stopped chewing right then and there. It had taken them years to feel at ease with the scar across their cheek. It had been years of trying to cover it, failing, and having to accept it. Their parents stayed quite—everyone was trying to realize what to say next. “I need something to drink.” They stood up, quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Kuroo cleared his throat and with a polite tone said, “No, actually no. I don’t there’s need to, to be honest.” ______ eyed him.

“I mean, they’re still as pretty as ever of course,” the aunt continued, a little bit ashamed of her comment. She wasn’t getting any sympathy, though.

“For sure, they’re a beauty,” Kuroo stated before standing up and following ______ into the kitchen, knowing well what they must be feeling. ______ was resting on the counter with their eyes on the floor. A shiny tear hung on their chin. Kuroo silently and swiftly approached them, swiping the tear off from their chin. “Are you okay?”

“I told you she was kind of careless,” they murmured, avoiding to meet his eyes.

“But she is wrong. I don’t think you were more beautiful than now.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“I say is subjective,” he offered.

They finally looked at him, a soft frown on their faces due to the confusion. “She thinks you’re not, but I think you are.” He received no answer, and he concluded it was best to take it more seriously. He hugged them with the intentions of keeping them under his hold as much as they needed it. ______ hugged him back. That was what they needed. Unconditional love.

Five minutes later, they removed themselves, drying their face. “Is it too obvious that I cried?”

“No, don’t worry.” And he wasn’t lying. ______ had spilled a couple tears. They hadn’t been enough to swell her eyes.

They went back to the table together. Kuroo pulled the chair out for them, and then took his seat. The dining room was in complete silence. Their parents stared worried. _____ gave them a faint smile. It didn’t mean everything was okay. It meant they were handling it.

“So, if you have embarrassing pictures of ______ as a baby, I’m up for that,” Kuroo said out of the blue, surprising everyone. ______’s father laughed first. Kuroo slipped a hand under the table and rested it on their leg, giving it a soft squeeze.

“We have many,” their mother assured him.

“I’m impatient,” Kuroo declared.

The tension slowly dissipated. ______ looked at their aunt. She had her eyes on her food, and they could see the shame in their factions. ‘Good’ they thought. It was nothing against her, but she shouldn’t be meddling in their business like that. It was their scar, their story, and their decision. They had showed many pictures to Kuroo prior to the accident, but it had been in a moment of intimacy where they had felt comfortable to talk about it. And in an incredibly gracious way, Kuroo had shut the situation down. ______ smiled to themselves and continued eating as their parents now asked Kuroo about him a little bit more. They would make sure to thanked him properly later.

Satori Tendou

Meeting new people was always exciting for him. He was expectant to see what type of person they were or how fast he could read them. It was interesting to him. Meeting his new partner’s friends was turning out to be an interesting situation, to say the least.

______ stayed on the edge of their seat, trying to find when they could add something to the conversation. The other four people—the “friends”—wouldn’t let them say a word. They talked all over ______, and ignored when they managed to complete a sentence. It was clear they were dismissing them. Tendou had his eyebrows raised, wondering why ______ would consider these people their friends. He hadn’t tried to join. He was seeing enough for him to grow highly uninterested on the group of people. It meant something to ______ for him to be there, and that was the only reason why he was staying there.

“It is Tendou right?” one of the boys asked. He had a buzzcut and moved his tongue inside his mouth like he had crumbs stuck on his gums.

“Hmm-mmm,” he shortly responded, lazily tapping his fingers on the table.

“How did you meet ______?” a girl asked. They made it sound as if it was unbelievable for ______ to actually meet someone. He didn’t like the tone of their words. It had a mean undertone. He knew because he had used too to discourage someone on the court. He despised the idea they were trying to bring down ______ right in front of him—their boyfriend.

“At a party. He is my cousin’s friend,” they explained.

“Make sense. One day you suddenly had a boyfriend. It was supper random,” another boy pointed out. He had shaggy hair, and it wasn’t the type of messy that could be cute. The guy needed a haircut immediately.

“I guess,” they said, sounding a little bit more nervous. Tendou wasn’t participating at all in the conversation, and he was aware he was being rather quiet. He wasn’t comfortable with those people. It reminded him of elementary school. The vibe was similar, keeping him on the edge, expecting an insult at any moment.

And it did.

“Do you want to see ______ before they had the scar on their cheek?,” the same girl asked with eagerness, like she was ready to play her favorite game. Tendou felt them tensing under the arm he had kept across their shoulders. He could physically feel their emotional stress growing rapidly inside them.

“Not really,” he answered stoically. He squeezed their shoulder, and stood up from his sit at the pretty cafeteria they had met. “Come on, ______, we’re going to be late to have dinner with my parents.”

______ nodded, and got up quickly. They weren’t having dinner with anyone. It had been the first excuse that came to mind to leave the place. He wasn’t staying, and he wouldn’t leave ______ there. He had to get the two of them out of there before something bad happened—and he meant snapping at any of them, and god knew he could be vicious if tempted.

Tendou intertwined his hand with theirs, walking out of the establishment without looking back. They went down the street for a couple minutes before he heard the tiniest of weeps. He stopped on his tracks, and with one swift motion pulled them into his chest, wrapping his arms around. People moved around them as ______ cried under his shelter. Tendou felt his heart wrench. It had not only been humiliating for them, but that girl had touched the most sensitive nerve in them.

______ raised their head once they were able to stop crying. It had felt like a nightmare. Their scar wasn’t a joke or a toy they could use to entertain themselves. Tendou’s long fingers were soon on their face, rubbing their cheeks with the kindness they needed in that moment. “Are you better?”

They give a little tired grin. They loved Tendou didn’t expect them to simply be okay, but instead they hoped for them to feel better whenever those type of situations happened. “Just a little,” they admitted.

“I hate to say this but your friends suck.”

The little grin turned into a sad chuckle. “I know. But back in middle school they were the only people who wanted to hang around with me, so… I guess it was better than to be alone.”

“You don’t have to anymore, you know?” he asked rhetorically. “The older we get, the less it matters,” he finished as his finger went through the scar on their face. It was true. The older the people, the less noisy people were. There were adults were absolute assholes who had no sense of decency and would make the same tactless questions and comments, but they were just a few compared to a crowd of fourteen-year olds.

“Yeah, but it’s still hard.”

“It is, but we’re going to make it easier. I promise you.” He bent down giving them a quick peck on the forehead. “If you ask me, you’re the cutest thing around.”

They snorted, trying to hide the blush on their face. Tendou understood them from a deep part of himself—a unique type of understanding. ______ hugged him, nuzzling their nose on the crook of his neck. It was the place where they felt the most accepted… in his arms.

#satori tendou #tendou #tendo #Kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #tendou x reader #kuroo x reader #tendou satori x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #HQ!! #hq x reader #hq x you

[amelee23]

Vintage Kiss, Nearly Missed | Park Minhyuk

Pairing: Female reader x Rocky (Park Minhyuk)

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Warnings: None

Length: 2k words

Summary: MJ loves to mess with her by putting her in situations that don't fit her nature. She tried getting used to it, but this time around MJ hit the jackpot when it came to a dare that would change her relationship status with Rocky.

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Becoming friends with the members of Astro was the start of a tireless journey. She couldn't believe how many things came to fruition because of Myungjun's jokes - and considering his wacky mind, it wasn't a normal day if she didn't feel the rush of adrenaline at least 5 times. The stupider it was, the stronger the temptation to make it true; costume parties, comedy skits and competitions of all sorts. Life with them was always exciting, Myungjun made sure of it from the get go - as they were extremely different in nature, he had a knack for turning things in her life around. Although getting used to such fun was pretty heartwarming - it wasn't what suited her best. She came to love the thrill but calmness was her motto. And well, it ended with her getting a 'boyfriend' because of it. 

It happened through the mystery drink challenge - whoever got the most bad ones was to be punished by receiving a ridiculous dare from Myungjun. (As if the drinks weren’t enough of a punishment by themselves.) As much as she prayed to the angels above for her opponent, Moonbin, to be the one to grimace - the oyster taste hit her tongue and she knew she was done for. As for the loser, Myungjun made sure to hit her where it most hurt - he made her become a 'nurturing girlfriend' to one of the members of Astro for 3 days. (Originally it was a two weeks but she fortunately had amazing negotiation skills.) They were all staring at her expectantly so she would choose who she wanted to take care of - but it was as if Myungjun knew that she had taken a liking for a certain someone.

Minhyuk's eyes widened out of their orbits when he was chosen. He was good at cooking, independent and strong, so why feel the need to nurture him? She could have chosen anyone else, like Sanha for example, kid can't cook to save his own life-

He couldn't understand it no matter how much he thought about it - perhaps she chose the lesser evil, or she just wanted to hang out with him. Either way, he couldn't refuse the dare so he was just another one of Myungjun's victims. 

---

She couldn't pretend like she had made lunch boxes before - she really hasn't, and making them for Rocky was extremely embarrassing. The cute sausage octopi failed her, and she gave up without even trying on making anything fancy. She made a heartfelt steak (she could never do wrong with meat when it came to men) with some salad on the side. She also bought some snacks they could enjoy when they're together. The girlfriend act had to be perfect or else she would have to feel Myungjun's wrath. 

Minhyuk was, in one word, impressed. He didn't think she'd go through with the joke, less be hugged the moment he opened the door and given free home-made food. Myungjun made sure to spy properly and evaluate the merch and remind them they need to go on a cute date too.

"Date? That wasn't part of the conditions!" She suddenly snapped completely out of her calm state, her brain going in a frenzy. 

"It is now!" Myungjun rebutted with a laugh. Minhyuk was standing in between them, confusion written all over his face. 

"We can watch a movie?" He suggested, to have an easy getaway from what his hyung suddenly wanted. 

"No 'lets watch a movie and not actually pay attention to each other', yeah? It better be a real date, yeah? And it better be cute!!" Myungjun's tone increased in volume with every following question. 

"Got it, got it, sheesh." Minhyuk once again had to jump in to clear the waters, as things were getting a little too heated. "We'll go on a date… do you know how to roller skate?" 

Caught off guard, with Minhyuk looking straight into her eyes with such intensity, she furrowed her brow and thought back if her parents ever took her out to do such a thing. 

"I don't think so. Just ice skating, I guess."

"Great, then we'll go try it out together." A flash of something unknown to her occupied Minhyuk's eyes for a second. She had no idea what he was thinking - or where the idea even came from. Maybe it was in the attempt to save her from Myungjun, or he simply wanted to go roller skating and had no one to tag along with him.

In a nutshell, Minhyuk didn't understand why he was chosen and she didn't know why he was so willing to take her on a date. The answer was staring both of them straight in the face, but perhaps they had something more in common besides calmness - they were both thick headed. But they had no time to think about that as Myungjun was yelling at them to cuddle on the couch. The 'nurturing' part wasn't even there anymore. Not that the girlfriend part was - MJ was basically making two friends be awkwardly close to each other physically. Even if they had crushes on each other - thing which they both denied - they felt too cramped and forced to enjoy it. 

Evening came by eventually, after about 10 different incidents when they had to dodge each other and pull away as if burned because Myungjun was pulling pranks. But right when they saw the waters had calmed and they could sigh relief, Dongmin proved them wrong. The look on Minhyuk’s face hearing Dongmin ask “So are you guys gonna wear cute matching outfits tomorrow?” was of utter betrayal. Of course Myungjun loved the idea, and the unfair number of conditions to the losers punishment only kept increasing.

“What about those cute overalls you bought with me?” Moonbin suddenly asked her. “Since Minhyukie likes that type of stuff too, maybe you can both dress vintage? It would fit with roller skating, honestly.” she looked at Moonbin as if an Angel just descended on earth to save her. She ought to thank him later.

“That doesn't sound half bad.” Minhyuk commented, but Myungjun didn’t really look satisfied with Moonbin’s solution. Nevertheless, they just shut him up and proceeded with planning ahead some cute vintage outfits. They were excited about it, almost alike kids.

They said their goodbyes when dark came over the streets, and she headed home to put together the outfit that she promised Minhyuk she would wear. A slight palpitation took over her chest and she clenched the clothes close, as if she was a teenager all over again, even if this date wasn’t even real to begin with. Still, she knew she had to catch a blink of sleep if she didn’t want to be a zombie tomorrow, even if the emotions got the best of her with the moon up high.

Minhyuk had no fancy car to pick her up with, and no fancy facial expression either. Their greetings were very friendly and normal - but an unfamiliar awkwardness overtook them as they walked side by side to the skating rink in the city. Minhyuk indeed matched her blue jeans overalls with high waisted baggy blue pants - but he chose to wear a white shirt while she wore pink. They stole glances at each other the whole way -  as if to check if the situation they were in was even real. It very much was, but they only realized it when they had arrived and were getting their skates at the reception - the workers there were very much treating them like a couple. A wave of warmth crept up her face, but also a bit of paranoia; because Myungjun was always there to check on them if they were being lovey dovey, and now he wasn’t even there, but she felt the tingles of romance in her belly. Perhaps it was strictly because he wasn’t there that the feelings felt free to surface.

Minhyuk tried to act all knightley by letting her hold on to him as she stepped into the rink -  but he was the first one to lose balance. Trying to flex his years spent in ballet, he acted as if nothing happened and didn’t even try holding onto the railing like she was - perhaps he was trying to impress her. She, on the other hand, had no thoughts of impressing anyone. Her legs were wobbly and she didn’t seem to get along with being on so many wheels.

They were supposed to have a romantic date but eventually Minhyuk separated from her and she only noticed when she felt him whoosh by her - that he caught onto the trick of roller skating way before her and he was just showing off by that point. Even all of the other couples were staring at him.

“Are you gonna do a triple axel next?” She jokes, but Minhyuk just smiled like a kid in response.

“I’ll even do a quadra.” He boasted, a dimple showing on the right side of his face. Right as she was about to stop him - because she knew from the beginning it was a bad idea -  she saw him start skating faster so he could try and go into a turn. She braced for something that would end up in even a trip to a hospital, but thankfully the speed made him lose control and he just ended up slamming into the side of the rink he was heading towards. Slowly, along the railing, she headed towards him to check if he was okay, and saw he was cursing under his breath and holding his hand tightly.

“Sh*t, I hit my hand on the railing.” He mumbled, and she spotted the red spot he was talking about.

“That’s what you get!” She rebutted. “I don’t know what got into you.”

“I thought you liked people who do crazy weird things?” He asked, a childish curiosity in his eyes. His gaze was a lot more serious, though.

“Me? I like chill and calm, honestly. That’s why Myungjun steps on my tail so often. He can’t stand me being so passive and getting overly sentimental about my plants.” Minhyuk took in her words with pure thirst, a light suddenly coming on in the shine of his eyes.

“You get sentimental over flowers?” He asked, the smile he once wore reappearing on his lips. It was extremely charming, and one of the reasons she found herself often swooning after him. “That’s so cute.” As if the air got knocked out of her lungs, she couldn’t say a thing as Minhyuk approached her silently. She dared look up into his eyes and was met with a happiness that was hard to describe. They would have had the most movie-like romantic kiss, if Minhyuk didn’t once again lose balance on the skates when he leaned in to kiss her. She caught his torso and stabilized him, giggling with her entire heart. Softly grabbing onto his hand, she placed it on the railing next to them so they both be supported, and stole a quick kiss from his lips before dashing away to the exit of the rink.

“Let’s grab some shaved ice on the way home!” She told him from afar. “Both to eat and for your swollen hand.” Minhyuk shook his head but continued to smile, carefully following the railing to catch up to his now girlfriend. It was foolish of him to believe he needed to change anything about himself to be liked back by her. All that became apparent as her soft calming voice filled the ice cream shop they nestled at to enjoy each other’s company - her body was finally relaxed, her gaze filled with love and affection. From now on he knew to stick to his own ways around her, even if they were old fashioned - or he would be missing out.

#astro #astro Rocky #astro fanfiction #kpop Fanfiction #park Minhyuk #park Minhyuk fanfiction #park Minhyuk fluff #rocky fluff #astro fluff #cha Eunwoo #lee dongmin #moonbin #mj #kim Myungjun #sanha #JinJin

[into-the-daniverse]

The Strait of Sirens

When the game map doesn’t give you the waterways you want, just carve them out yourself, am I right?

In this case, I’ve carved a strait from the Sea of Persephia to the Salty Sea, purely so my pirates can cross paths more. And it wouldn’t be a fantasy location in my canon if it didn't have something supernatural—so there’s also sirens.

This would come up in my canon specifically in Muriel’s route, where he and MC (Alec or Viviane depending) need to travel south. But before the events of the game, this gets used a lot by the band traveling back and forth over years, and obviously, by the pirates.

Gonna put most of this under the cut to save your dash!

Let’s start with the name of the strait.

The Strait of Sirens is inhabited and guarded by fairly neutral aligned sirens. Neutral as in they hate all humans equally. They’ve been there for a very long time, and they don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

The strait itself is fairly big. Traveling through the strait takes about a week to cross from one end to the other on an average sized ship, so there are a number of small towns scattered across on both sides with at least one substantial inn for travelers to rest at along the way. The towns all have enchantments on them, so once a ship is docked, it is considered safe, and the sirens can’t affect it or any of the crew members.

Both entrances to the strait are guarded by sirens from two different clans. One clan guards the entrance to the Sea of Persephia, and the other the entrance to the Salty Seas. The entrances look like this; large jagged rocks meant to discourage ships from entering.

For this reason, only experienced sailors usually attempt to enter. Though, once past the entrance, it’s pretty smooth sailing. Because the sirens themselves are enough of a threat. 

Onto the sirens themselves; they don't look human. 

Well, they kind of do, in the same way that Valdemar does. 

Their skin is translucent, and their fins glow in the dead of night. Their teeth are too sharp to offer a comforting smile, and their eyes are too much like fish eyes to give any warmth as they peek over the waves. They all have long hair, but hair is a loose term, as it’s more like another appendage, laced with seaweed and rope from wrecked ships. 

Not all of them have fish tails, some have tentacles, some beaks like squids. Some of them look more human than others, and they act as lures, sometimes pretending to be drowning so a naive sailor will jump in to “save” them.

They are not considered attractive (conventionally) and they don’t lure travelers into the depths by appealing to their sexual appetite. Instead, they use illusion magic in their songs to show their victims either their wildest fantasy, most horrible fear, or best kept secret. Whatever is the strongest pull is what will be shown to them.

They sing in a style similar to Kulning, an ancient Swedish herding call, except they’re herding the travelers off their ships, instead of calling cows home. This is an excellent example of what they would sound like.

They don’t speak in any known language, those who have heard it say it sounds more like clicking. They are not easily reasoned with, highly temperamental, and prone to feeding frenzies. If some poor unfortunate slips over the railing, they are to be considered dead the moment they hit the water.

And here’s a little siren moodboard for the aesthetics.

Generally, all ships that pass through the strait have to do the old “plug your ears and hope for the best” routine as they sail through, but the closer you get to the towns, the safer you are. 

Some ships employ magicians for the purpose of counteracting the sirens, as a seven day journey is a long time for most vessels to go without hearing. When the band travels on supply ships Alec is usually sought after, as her vocal magic works directly against them.

She can use her magic to sing over them, and to cancel out their illusions. This takes a lot of concentration, and she can’t sing for seven days straight, so it’s only used when absolutely necessary.

For my pirates, they each have their own way to cross the strait safely.

For Meredith, she has Saoirse. They are the only thing the sirens fear, as all seas feed into each other, and the water from the Frozen Sea has a lot of stories to tell about the Pirate Queen’s quartermaster. The crew is still encouraged to keep quiet, and to keep away from the railings, as the sirens will try to snatch any distracted crew member. She usually stops at a few towns on their way to let the crew rest.

Rodrigo doesn’t know the extent of his magic, but he knows how to use it well enough to challenge the illusions that the sirens cast. It takes a ridiculous amount of energy, and he hates doing it, but in the case that the crew can’t just plug their ears, he can redirect the sirens illusions. He can even cast illusions on the sirens, though not for very long. His crew is the only one who’s been able to retrieve members after they fell into the water, as he can make the sirens think the crew member fell in a different spot just long enough for Jacqui or someone else to fish them out. He’ll stop at villages frequently just to get away from the sirens as much as possible.

The sirens hate Syd, and seeing Inuwashi on the horizon will send them into a frenzy. But he has agreements with both clan leaders (agreements, thinly veiled threats, hostages—the Sea Palace has a few sirens hidden in the catacombs) so they let him and his crew pass. Because his ship is much smaller and faster, it takes him closer to four days to cross the strait, so usually he’ll only stop at one town to rest up, or he’ll just push through for the four days straight.

Now as mentioned above, there are a handful of towns across both sides of the strait for travelers to stop at. There’s at least one town within a day’s range of each other on the North side, around seven total, and on the South side they are spread further apart, around four total.

On the North side, the biggest town (and the only one with a ferry to take you South) is called Hinode. This is where the Koizumi Inn is located, run by Manolo and Manuela Koizumi.

Hinode, and a few more villages that are closer to Venterre, would look similar to this picture of the fishing village Ine in Japan.

Hinode is simultaneously the safest and most dangerous village, as it is directly between both clans territories, and the only thing the sirens hate as much as humans is their rival clan. 90% of the time, this means that you are unlikely to see either clan in the waters, as they will just avoid each other, but the other 10% of the time will see bloodshed. 

Once every 2 years or so, during a blue moon, the clans will fight, and Hinode is in the “splash zone” for lack of a better term. All ships will need to be properly secured and enchanted for protection, or they will be turned to splinters as the sirens fight, and people living directly on the water will often move inland for the duration of the fight. Or, the day before, they will take the day travel across the strait to the South side.

On the South side, the biggest town is called Sólsetur, and it would look more like Portloe, Cornwall, shown below. 

There are a few more towns on the South side, but Sólsetur is the only one that will ferry you across to the North side, and the only one directly on the water. It’s not as centralized as Hinode, and because it’s hidden in a cove it is safer to be here during the blue moon.

All the villages along the strait have protections on them, especially the closer they are to the water, that keeps the sirens from attacking them. But, travel too far outside the barriers of the spells, and you are on your own. 

Both Hinode and Sólsetur are very welcoming of travelers, sailors and pirates alike, and though the people on the South side are generally colder, it’s not hard to find a warm place to sleep and a good meal to eat. 

#the arcana #the arcana game #into the daniverse #strait of sirens #lore #I dont know how to tag this lmao #I think that's it for now maybe lol

[onomonopetabread]

Declawing the Cat - Chapter 3

(Sorry it took so long guys, between testing and homework and executive functioning, I could NOT get this done. Anyways,

“Father, do I have to go?” Adrien asked for the hundredth time.

“Of course Adrien. I refuse to go on a business trip as important as this one without you. You’re my son.”

Felix rolled his eyes. He and his mother were visiting the two bachelors (against his actual will, obviously). Everyone in the room knew the real reason why Adrien had to go; he was the face of the brand, and it was common fashion knowledge that to go to such a high-ranking event without your leading model would get you shunned and cancelled. ‘You’re my son’ EVERYONE’S arse.

It was obvious that Adrien was all too aware of this fact, because he couldn’t seem to run out of excuses for why he couldn’t go.

Well, he could also not wish to go because of how brain-numbingly boring the whole affair is, and honestly, who could blame him? This year’s Annual Pre-Junior’s Fashion Competition Assembly was being held in Sydney, and all of the biggest names in the industry were going to attend. The assembly takes place over the course of two. Entire. Months. For what, not even the attendees know. Felix swears, these designers were as mad as a bag of ferrets.

I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, like Miss I’m-all-that Ginger Breadhouse, you’d probably be in Seventh Heaven there, but if you were, how do you say, normal, you’d sell your soul to be another else. In fact, Felix could almost bet Chat Noir’s Miraculous that Adrien would sign that demonic contract in a heartbeat if that were an option.

“But Father, what about school? I’ll miss so much instruction-”

“Natalie will tutor you, just like she did before you attended that … institution.”

“And my fencing practice? Surely, you wouldn’t want me to miss out on those.”

“Adrien, are you suggesting that they don’t have fencing areas in Sydney?”

“No, I’m just saying that fencing without Kagami wouldn’t be the same…”

“Well, you aren’t going to be fencing with her forever, so think of this as a sample for the future. Now, no more of this arguing, Adrien. You are going to the Assembly and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat and for a heartbeat, Felix felt sympathetic. “Yes, Father.”

“Good, now go pack some clothes you will need for the weeks. We won’t be at the events the entire time, so I will permit you to bring some of your own wardrobe. Please remember we will be there for a long time, so pack accordingly.”

And with that, they were all dismissed. Adrien trugged upstairs looking particularly peeved. He invited Felix to come with him, and Felix agreed, but only to keep up appearances. If he knew any better, Felix would have sworn that he heard him talking to someone on the way up, but he decided to ignore it; he couldn’t be bothered to guess what weird habits his wanker of a cousin had.

Once they got to Adrien’s room, Felix sat himself down at the piano while Adrien took out a suitcase from his closet and started choosing some informal clothing for when they were just doing day-to-day activities.

“Can you believe that he’s making me go, Felix?”

“Yes, I can believe it.”

“AND we have to leave tomorrow! I won’t even get the chance to say goodbye to our friends.

“Not to worry, cousin dearest. I’ll tell them for you. Anyways, don’t look at this trip as a burden, look at it as a new opportunity. You can gather information and resources for your friend Marinette.”

Adrien’s face brightened at the mention of his friend and Felix rolled his eyes when his back was turned. He swears, all it takes to cheer him up was to be reminded that Pigtails was alive and well somewhere on the planet.

“You’re right, Felix! This way I can help her pursue her dreams! I can’t wait until we get back to tell her everything I’ve learned about the industry.”

“...Can’t you just text or call her?”

“You mean with my phone?”

“No Adrien, I mean with a plastic banana you can buy at the baby store. Yes I mean your phone!”

Adrien paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt and packing it into a suitcase. “I didn’t tell you? Father confiscated it for ‘my own good’. He thinks I spend too much time around my friends and not enough time focusing on my studies, so it’s with him for the time being.”

Well, there goes Felix’s plan to pull a quick cell prank before Adrien leaves. “Adrien Bartholomew Agreste, is that resent I hear in your voice?”

“Yes, it is. I’m tired of responsibilities and having people depend on me every second that I breathe. That’s why I wanted to go to school in the first place; it gives me eight hours of non-Agreste related freedom.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. What did this boy know about responsibilities? All he had to do was play a keyboard, wave a stick around, and look pretty for pictures. Felix couldn’t understand how a job like that could burden someone so badly.

“Goodness, Adrien. You make it sound as though Uncle asks you to carry the weight of the entire ever-loving world on your shoulders.”

Adrien sighed. “That’s just how I feel, sometimes. Anyways, I think these are all of the casual clothing Father will let me take with me. Maybe if I’m lucky, he might not see the video game I hid under them all.”

The next day was a Saturday, so Felix the delivery boy was going to have to give the mega-twits the message at a later time. Today, it was all about acting as emotional as he could for the departure of his Cousin & Co. gabriel thought it would be a good idea for Felix and his mother to stop by the mansion every once in a while to make sure everything was all right, accounted for, and in the case of the house plants, watered. This was news to Felix. He doubted his uncle was even a living being, let alone the type of person to have plants in his home. Right now, they were standing next to the family limo. Natalie and gabriel were talking to Ape Man about transportation in Australia.

“Oh, darling Adrien, I’m so sad to see you go. We only just now got here, and you’re leaving. Why must the fates keep up apart?”

“It’s alright, Aunt Amilie. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”

“We? Oh, I wasn’t talking about your father, dear. I wouldn’t mind some time away from him. Anyways, I hope you have the best time in Australia. Bring something back for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to get a real boomerang, ever since I was a young girl.”

“I’ll be sure to get you the best boomerang in the country, Aunt A. What about you Felix? Do you want me to get you anything?”

Felix, who was standing some ways behind the others, pretended to ponder it over. “Bring me a friendship bracelet.”

“...A friendship bracelet?”

“If you can’t find one it’s okay I really don’t mind-”

“No, I’ll get you a bracelet. I was only surprised because you aren’t really the type to want one.”

He’s right- there was no way on Good Green Earth would he want some dingly little arts and crafts project. There also wasn’t any way that maybe he wanted his cousin thinking about him during his trip, that he wanted to envision Adrien getting something for him. Don’t even think about considering that Felix felt bad for him, dealing with the devil himself in a new place and wanting to give him something to do. Nope. Not a chance. Felix simply thought that Adrien would look hilarious running around Australia looking for beads and twine.

“...Just make sure you make me a good one, alright?”

Adrien smiled as though he could read right into Felix’s mind, and of course he had to look completely handsome in doing so. Stupid model. They practically had the same face and somehow Felix ended up looking like the off-brand knockoff.

“Adrien, we have to go now. The plane leaves in five hours,” gabriel said, entering the car.

“Why do we need to leave so soon?”

“So that I can buy fabrics with threads, gather all of my designs, double check with Natalie that the suite is still booked for us-”

“Alright, Father. I understand. Well, bye Felix. I’ll miss you.”

With that, he entered the limousine and the four of them drove away.

“Come Felix. Let’s go check the house for anything they might have accidentally left behind. We wouldn’t want them to leave something important,” said Amilie, still a little teary-eyed over the loss of her precious little baby nephew. She couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him for so long, even though his look-alike (her own bloody son) was right in front of her. Of course, Felix wasn’t bitter! Why wouldn’t ever say such a thing?

“Yes, Mother. Would you like me to check Adrien’s room?”

“Please, dear. Oh, look at you, watching over your cousin! And to think you said you wouldn’t like him!”

It was as though his mother never met him. Couldn’t she see that he was just trying to gain some sort of upper hand against Mr. Perfect or to uncover a secret of his? On the sunny side, at least he knows his facade is effective. He was beginning to worry that someone other than Blue-Eyed Phoenix Wright would figure him out.

Felix pushed open the door of Adrien’s room and immediately began to look around and turn things over. He was being extremely careful to make sure that everything he touched was put back in the place he got it from. After looking through his closet and library, however, he was disappointed to find that Adrien was actually as innocent as he seemed (and acted). In fact, the worst thing he could find was a disturbing amount of Ladybug memoria. It was a pity, really. Felix hadn’t blackmailed anyone in a long time, and he was beginning to get antsy. He turned around and headed out.

“Adrien, is that you? I thought you said you weren’t going to come back for another two months.”

Felix did a complete 180 and faced the source of the voice, which seemed to be some sort of floating cat-thing. It looked like a deer in headlights.

“You aren’t Adrien. Wait, are you okay, you seem to be swaying-?”

The thing was right; he was feeling woozy, and it didn’t take him that long to hit the floor, having fainted. The last thing he heard was the talking cat muttering,

“Shit.”

@myazael @2confused-2doanything @thecaptainthunder @thatonecroc @symwinter @mermaidreject @pink-and-bunny @kyrakitesong @your-number-one-second-choice @kayla0binow @hansa-12 @fc-studios @nom-the-king @thetrashypanda423 @chez-pezeater @supertomboyprincess @alyceeve @ceres-zephyr @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @marinettepotterandplagg @starlightshield @sandraf0612

#declawing the cat #chapter 3 #felix graham de vanily #felix x marinette #marinette x felix #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #fanfiction by me #fanfiction #felix #enemies to lovers

[owl-with-a-pen]

This one has been on my mind for awhile. Perhaps one where brainy has to go away and he leaves Nia in charge of the D.E.O, I can imagine she wouldn’t be the best and crack under pressure haha. Love your stories 💜

- This might be a little different to what you imagined, but I thought I’d set this with Nia heading a mission instead of the whole of the DEO. To add even more tension, I’ve set this scene somewhere post 5x10, so Nia and Brainy are on rocky ground. Thanks for the prompt! x

When Brainy had first proposed Nia take charge of a DEO operation, she’d laughed it off pretty easily. 

It was only when his was response was to stare at her, one brow raised in confusion, that her face fell.

“Wait,” Nia said, clearing her throat awkwardly. “You’re serious?”

“Undoubtedly so,” Brainy said, narrowing his eyes. “Did I- did I phrase that in a comedic manner?”

Nia blinked. “No. No, you – you sounded serious. I just, I’m finding it hard to believe.” She gestured at herself. “Me? You want me to run a DEO mission? As in, control your agents?”

“That is what leading a mission pertains, yes.”

Okay, now he was being sarcastic. Although, Nia had to admit that it was becoming increasingly harder to tell ever since the whole inhibitor thing. Honestly, Nia hadn’t known what to think when Brainy had summoned her to the DEO that afternoon. On all accounts, he’d been doing everything in his power to evade her ever since their break-up.

A part of her hadn’t wanted to come. She was a vigilante, and though Supergirl had ties with the DEO, considering recent tensions, Dreamer tried to avoid the organisation where she could. There were people on the streets that didn’t trust the DEO for a variety of reasons, even in this new-Earth hellscape where everyone had been brainwashed into loving Lex Luthor. There were humans and aliens alike out there that were still dubious of Lex’s agenda and, who could blame them? They were right.

Nia could have pretended that was the only reason for her apprehension, but who was she kidding? Seeing that text from Brainy, asking her to see him after literal months of radio silence, didn’t sit well with her. She still got a lump in her throat anytime she saw his name pop up on her phone, and felt a crazy surge of butterflies in her stomach whenever he turned up in person after an alien altercation, even if it was alongside his legion of DEO personnel.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was, and she knew why. Despite Brainy’s attempts at acting cold and detached around her, there was still something so incredibly warm behind his eyes, something he was fighting hard to keep hidden from her.

Why the hell he was doing it, Nia didn’t know, and she shouldn’t have cared. Letting it eat her alive like this wasn’t helping anyone. If he didn’t want to be with her after what had happened… then, she had to accept that.

Even though she hated it. Even though she couldn’t help but question whether encouraging Brainy to ditch his inhibitors had been the right call at all. She didn’t think she’d seen a real smile touch his lips since that night at Al’s bar. Didn’t think she’d seen anything other than a deadened exhaustion on his face since he’d stood inches from her in her apartment and torn her heart in two.

Now, whenever Brainy opened his mouth, it was only the Director of the DEO who spoke. Not her best friend. Not her-

No. Not her boyfriend. Not anymore.

She’d pushed that all aside to come here, but now she was really beginning to regret that decision.

“Why me?” Nia asked finally, folding her arms.

Brainy mirrored her stance, lifting his chin. “I calculated a ninety-six percent success rate with your leadership on this mission. The alien we are looking for has psychic abilities closely matching the signature of Naltorian dream energy. Thus – dreaming of our target should be incredibly easy for you.” He shrugged. “Your other powers will prove proficient in the field, too. You can protect and guide my agents better than anyone within this organisation.”

“Wow, Brainy,” Nia said stiffly. “That nearly sounded like a compliment.”

“It is a fact,” Brainy said, although for just a second, Nia was certain she could detect a tremble behind those words. Brainy swallowed quickly, as though to cover himself, before lowering his voice. “Will you do it?”

“Of course,” Nia said immediately. “If I can protect these people, then of course I’ll do it. I’ll always help you—the, um, the DEO, I mean. I- I’m happy to help.” Nia could feel her face beginning to warm all over again. She winced. “You know what I meant,” she muttered.

“I do,” Brainy said, although something in his tone suggested that he wasn’t referring to her promise about the DEO, either.

Nia elected to ignore it. Instead, she rolled her shoulders, straightening her back. “Okay, then,” she said, curling her hands into fists. “When do we start?”

                                                         ______

In the next thirty minutes, Nia found herself packed away in a DEO-issued  vehicle alongside half a dozen field agents. The rest of her team were in the van tailing directly behind them. Every agent was decked out in unmarked uniforms, bullet proof vests, helmets, plus a full inventory of energy guns shared out amongst them.

In her costume - no helmet, no vest and certainly no guns - Nia suddenly felt seriously underdressed. She flexed her hands a few times, staring down at her gloves. She had to remember why Brainy had asked her to do this. She didn’t need fancy energy guns. Her abilities were her energy, and they were necessary to bring this alien in safely. She could do this.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t remember any of these agents’ names, or that the sense of camaraderie in the small space was pretty much non-existent, she just had to be a leader.

If Kara could take charge in times of crisis, then so could she. The only thing stopping Nia was the anxious knot balling inside of her stomach.

You can protect and guide my agents, Brainy’s voice reminded her. It wasn’t exactly the motivational speech she’d been hoping for, but under the circumstances, she’d take what she could get. Even still, she couldn’t help but wish Brainy had come on this mission with her.

But, oh no, he was the Director now. And he had other matters to attend to.

At least, that was the excuse he’d given her.

“Did you hear me?”

Nia’s head jerked up, right into the no-nonsense, stone-faced expression of the DEO agent sat opposite her. She realised belatedly that the van had stopped some time ago, and that her fellow passengers sat closest to the door had already started climbing out.

“I said we’re here,” the agent said, jerking his chin towards the door.

“Oh,” Nia said, shifting from her seat. “Great.”

Yeah. Not exactly the all-powerful words of a full-fledged leader. She gritted her teeth, straightening up as soon as she’d jumped out of the car.

“Alright, Nia,” she muttered to herself. “Your time to shine. Don’t screw it up.”

She marched out to the agents grouping up outside the two stationary vehicles. They’d parked in what could be best described as a cement graveyard; nothing but dilapidated buildings for miles – perfect squatting grounds. It was exactly where Nia had dreamt that their target would be hiding out.

“Okay,” Nia said, trying to put as much power behind her voice that she could muster. She’d stopped just a few feet ahead of her audience. The moment that she spoke, every set of eyes had turned to her. Some of them… more dubiously than others. Mostly, though, they seemed to be waiting on her instruction.

Which… which would be great, if she even knew where to start.

Normally, Super Friend patrols were comprised of, like, three or four people at most. And even then, they usually ended up splitting up throughout the night.  But, there were so many agents in front of her now, all here for just one alien. If a dozen DEO agents went in there at once, there was no way they wouldn’t end up spooking their target.  

God, vigilante work was way stealthier than this.

“So,” Nia said, clenching her jaw. “Plan of action, we need to find this alien. So, um, split up?”

“Are you asking us or telling us?” one of the agents muttered. He was rewarded with a few smiles and poorly disguised snickers.

Frustration flooded Nia’ chest. She opened her mouth, more than prepared to snap out a remark of her own, when another agent raised their voice.

A young woman, maybe only a few years older than Nia. “Normally, we run recon first,” she said helpfully, gesturing out towards the buildings. “To get a lay of the land.”

The look in her eyes clearly expressed that she was less than thrilled about the other agents’ behaviour towards her. Nia’s jaw relaxed a little. “Sounds good,” she said, nearly offering a thumbs up before thinking better of it. Instead, she threw her hands hastily to her hips, offering an impromptu hero stance.

“Is this your first time doing this or something?” the same agent as before asked, this time loud enough to be heard by all of his peers.

Nia bit back the urge to respond.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the wash of murmurs that followed the agent’s insult.

“Great,” the agent at his side whispered. “No one said we were gonna get stuck with the side-kick.”

“Hey!” Nia snapped, taking a step forward. “I am no one’s side-kick, okay? In fact, I’m your best shot at fighting this enemy. Do you guys even know what you’re up against?” Nia lifted her hands out at her sides, feeling a powerful surge of dream energy crackle from her fingers, curling around her hands in vibrant shades of blue.

Immediately, the agents in front of her straightened their stances, their expressions sobering. Any chatter was cut off outright.

Nia grinned. “Exactly. Your enemy has powers like this.” She clenched her hands, allowing the power to simmer in the centre of her palms before petering out entirely. When she was confident she had everyone’s undivided attention, she narrowed her eyes. “Your Director asked for me to keep you all safe, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. If anyone has a problem with that.” She threw her hand back towards the stationary vans. “Feel free to get your ass back to the DEO and tell Director Dox exactly why you left an active mission with your tail between your legs.”

When no one moved, Nia folded her arms, lifting her chin proudly. She caught the small smile of the female agent from before, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face.

“Right,” Nia continued. “Now you’ve got that out of your systems, let’s get to business. Recon.” She jerked her head towards the agent who had started the trouble in the first place, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You; take four of your team and go up ahead, scout the exterior of the building for any movement. Remember, there could be civilians out there, so we do this carefully. I expect all your guns to be on stun only and not to be used unless you’re completely certain you have our target in your sites. Got it?”

The agent, who had been gawking at Nia’s hands and very little else, nodded his head. He turned towards a few of his fellow agents, flashing a couple of fancy hand signals which they quickly responded to, flanking him on both sides.

As he brushed past Nia, he paused, glancing at her warily. “You – uh – didn’t get any bad dream senses about this, right?”

Nia rolled her eyes. Now he was taking her seriously. Better late than never. “Trust me,” she said sharply, “you’re fine. Like I said, I’m here to keep you safe.” She stared at him levelly. “All of you safe.”

“Right. Sorry, ma’am,” the agent said, ducking his head as he righted his gun. “It won’t- it won’t happen again.”

Nia only nodded, watching carefully as he headed out with his team to survey the area.

Once most of the agents were out of sight, only then did Nia allow herself a moment to smile.

Maybe she’d never run a DEO mission before, but maybe that didn’t matter. Brainy had said it himself, after all, this mission’s success depended on her.

But, this wasn’t about what Brainy thought. Besides, it certainly didn’t seem like he cared.

Although, maybe…

Nia shook herself. No. Thinking about what he’d said, the way he’d said it would have to wait for another day.

Today, she was gonna be the best team leader the DEO had ever seen.

#supergirl #brainia #brainiac 5 #nia nal #dreamdox #my writing #my prompts #anon #supergirl fanfiction #i live for tension and mutual pining okay #querl dox #brainy

[idkxwriting]

Treacherous - Chapter 14

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: alright guys, some angst for ya. We’re starting to come to the end! If you’d like to be alerted anytime I post a new chapter/new work, follow @idkhaylijahwrites​ and turn on post notifications :) Thank you for reading, and giving me feedback, it means a lot! <3 

Chapter 13  -  Masterlist

It had been three days. Three days since Matt's death, since she had come home. Three days since she really talked to Elijah or Dean.

They held a memorial for Matt in the woods. Stefan and Damon had taken care of covering up what had really happened, Sam helped bury the body, and they waited for their friends to come home. In any other moment, Y/N would have been overjoyed to be reunited with her friends, but in that moment, in those circumstances, she couldn't think of anything worse. How many times had she covered up the death of someone she loved? Over the years she had begun to lose count. Would her friends have a memorial in the woods for her, too?

Y/N had watched her friends break down over the loss, and still she stood numb. The only thing left inside of her was guilt and rage. It had been three days since she had seen or heard anything from Empusa. She hadn't even felt her. The quiet was unnerving, like the calm before a storm. The skies were growing darker, the wind picking up as something ominous came towards Mystic Falls. Something they seemingly couldn't stop, and she felt her moment draw closer, her time running out.

After the funeral, she was adamant that her friends needed to leave. They had argued and shouted, and after concocting a secret plan with Freya and Castiel to get them out, Y/N was left alone in her room, nothing but the sound of the rain outside keeping her company.

"I can handle it," Freya had agreed, leaving the room.

Castiel stood, his eyes haunted, and she instinctively knew that he knew. "Y/N..."

She shook her head. "Just promise me you won't let him do anything stupid?"

"Dean isn't just going to walk away..."

"I know," she sighed. "And I know I'm asking a lot, but please, Cas."

He nodded grimly, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She sat, perched on the edge of the bed with her back to the door. She rubbed at her shoulder, the stab wound stitched but sore. It would leave a nasty scar. Not that it matters, she thought, her mind drifting once again to her impending doom when she heard him come in.

"How are you holding up?" Dean asked, his boots heavy on the wooden floor.

She took a deep breath, standing and moving toward her dresser. "Fine," she said dismissively.

He let out a sad laugh at that, and she didn't need to see him to know his eyes were crinkling in the corners, frustrated amusement at her deflection, his lips pressing into a thin line. They were so much alike, sometimes. "Right," he said, nodding. "Y/N you're not fine. You've barely said two words to any of us, you've been shut up in your room as much as possible..."

She turned to face him. "I think I convinced Stefan and Damon to take the girls and help evacuate Mystic Falls. Gas leak, I think they're going with. Freya said she'll place a barrier along the border of town. Nothing supernatural will be able to come or go. So once they're out, they won't be able to come back in until this is all over. At least I'll know they're safe..."

Dean nodded. It was a good plan, the less people they had to worry about, the better. "Yea, Sam filled me in," he said. "We're gonna help get as many people cleared out of here as possible."

"FBI?" She asked casually.

He shrugged. "U.S. Marshals, I think." They stood in awkward silence for a moment - it was the most they had spoken since Matt's death - since their fight, really. He took in her appearance, beaten down and exhausted. He wondered if she had slept at all since they found Matt. He cleared his throat, offering her a polite smile. "Right, well, I should go, let you sleep..."

As he turned to leave she stopped him. "I'm sorry," she blurted.

He turned around as if to shrug off her apology, but when he saw the look in her eyes and the weight of her regret, he paused.

"About our fight...and Elijah, I mean," she took a deep breath, willing her pride to take a back seat for a moment. "I care about you, Dean, and I never wanted to hurt you." He said nothing, but his green eyes fixed on her. They stood in silence for a long moment, and she thought maybe he wouldn't say anything at all when he finally spoke.

"Do you love him?" There it was, the question he had been holding back for weeks. The one he felt like he had no right to ask - that he was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer to. Even as it hung in the air he wished he could take it back. It was one thing to suspect it, but the idea of hearing the answer out loud felt like it could suffocate him right there.

She bit her lip. "Yes," she whispered. "I'll always love him."

There it was. All he needed to know. All he wished he could forget. He nodded, turning towards the door once more.

"But I love you, too..." the words rushed out urgently, stopping him in his tracks. She startled at her own confession, but there was no taking it back.

His hand lingered on the doorknob, his feet frozen in place.

She hadn't intended on telling him - she knew in the grand scheme of things, it didn't even matter, but she leaned into it, an inexplicable need to tell him. "And I know how fucked up and selfish that is," she continued. "I wish it was different, and I'm sorry, but I love you, too." She wasn't sure why she was telling him any of it, other than she felt like she had to. Like if she didn't tell him the truth she may explode.

"Don't," he said softly, slamming his eyes shut.

She shook her head and took a step toward him, her heart thumping, her voice shaking. "I love you, Dean Winchester. And I'm so sorry for that."

He turned, his eyes searching hers. His chest tightened when he saw just how heartbroken she looked, and he wanted to pull her into him, tell her it would all be alright, hold her until everything else faded away.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, too.

"Please, say something..."

What little resolve he had began to fade at the sound of her voice, pleading and timid. "Y/N, I can't...I can't keep doing this."

She bit her lip, and nodded in understanding. "I know. I just needed you to know, and to tell you I'm sorry."

He swallowed, afraid to speak. He knew he should walk away. Maybe a better man would have. But Dean wasn't a better man, as much as he had wished he was. It wasn't enough, and maybe it never would be, but it was something.

And God, he needed to feel something other than the gaping hole in his chest.

He stepped towards her, holding onto every inch of her words, clinging to the fighting chance, the smallest possibility of them.

His hand cupped her face, and he nodded, his eyes boring into hers. He moved his hand, tangling his fingers in her hair and pressed his lips to her temple hard, breathing her in. "I know, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I know."

She stifled a sob and gripped his wrist, like maybe if she held onto him she'd stop breaking into pieces.

"You gotta stop doing that," he sighed. He brought his free hand up, tracing his thumb along the dampness of her cheek. "I hate seeing you cry," he whispered.

She smiled sadly, but the tears continued their quiet assault. She nodded, her fingers intertwining with his. She studied them for a moment, the way their hands fit together. Dean's thumb rubbed along the side of her hand, and she realized that despite it all, she felt safe with him.

And she hated so much that she'd have to let it go, that this - them - would never be enough to save her. Her gaze flicked to his, wordlessly begging him to stay, unable to ask but unable to let go, and hating herself for it.

Like he often did, Dean understood her in her silence and found himself unable to deny her once again. "Come on," he pulled her along with him, leading her to the bed. He laid down on top of the covers, pulling her down to his chest.

She held onto him tightly, afraid he'd slip away from her, grateful that he was willing to stay when she had no right to ask. She buried her face in his chest, crying silently.

Dean just held her through it, pressing his lips to her hair, his fingers dancing along her arm and the rain tapping soothingly against the glass of the windows.

When she finally drifted off, and when he was sure she wouldn't hear him he kissed her temple. "I love you, too," he whispered.

*****

Y/N woke up the next morning to an empty bed. It shouldn't have surprised her, and she couldn't blame him. Still, it left a sinking feeling. She wasn't sure when Dean had snuck out, but as hurt as she felt, she was almost relieved she didn't have to face him in the daylight.

Not that there was much daylight. A glance out her window told her the storm clouds had yet to move on, and the rain had only picked up in intensity.

She rolled over to check her phone - it was early, but she could hear voices carrying up the stairs.

Today, she thought. She wasn't sure how she knew, but Empusa was close, and she had to end it. She tried not to linger on the implications of what this ending would mean for her. As far as she was concerned, this was just another hunt. It had to be.

So she'd treat it like any other hunt.

When she was dressed she made her way downstairs to find Sam at the kitchen table, looking handsome as ever in a navy blue suit. "Nice suit," she teased.

Sam smiled uncomfortably, raising his brows. "Yea," he chuckled. "Just had it lying around."

Y/N glanced around, searching before clearing her throat. "Where's Dean?" She asked in an attempt at nonchalance.

Sam offered her a half smile, his way of brushing past her awkwardness and pretending he wasn't painfully aware of Dean spending the night in her room before sneaking out in the early morning. "Coffee run, I think. Elijah called. We all agreed it's best if we make our move today."

"Well, I'm glad we all talked that over," she laced her tone with mild irritation.

Sam had the decency to look a little guilty, but he offered no apology. "Dean wanted to let you sleep," he explained. "Besides, do you really want to put this off any longer than we have to?"

She sighed, knowing he was right, but still not ready to face what that meant for herself. "Let me go change into something a little more professional and I can help you guys evacuate the rest of the town."

"Actually," he began. "It's just us on this one."

She huffed. "Are you kidding me?"

He shrugged sheepishly.

She was about to give him a piece of her mind when the front door opened, Dean strolling in with three coffees balancing precariously on a box of donuts, a bag of bagels hanging from his mouth. He kicked the door shut behind him, strolling into the kitchen as if he didn't notice her fuming.

"Morning sunshines," he said, tossing the bag onto the counter and passing out coffee. He wiped the rain off his suit jacket and ran a hand through his damp hair.

Y/N refused her cup, instead crossing her arms over her chest. "Why can't I go with you guys to evacuate?"

Dean didn't bat an eye, turning and flipping the lid to the donuts open. He narrowed his eyes at the assortment of sugary pastries, choosing his victim. He shoved a large bite of a particularly powdery donut into his mouth, his cheeks filling as he chewed. He mumbled incoherently, talking with his mouthful. " 'hey no ew. Yer siffin' it 'ow."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Was that english?" She snapped.

Sam hopped in reluctantly. "He said they know you, so you're sitting it out. He's got a point. You grew up in this town, Y/N. You won't pass as a U.S. Marshal. Let us take care of it."

She rolled her eyes. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Dean kept his eyes trained on her, irritation flickering behind the mossy green, ready to pick a fight, even with his mouth full.

"You're with me, Buffy."

Y/N turned to find Damon walking through the front door as if he owned the place, Stefan close behind him.

"We've got Witchy Klaus and Tweety Bird holding up a barrier around Mystic Falls as we speak. If Empusa is indeed here, she won't be able to cross the town border. In fact, if you're supernatural at all, you won't be getting in or out as of now, but you knew that already."

She raised her eyebrows. "What the hell are you doing here? You guys are supposed to be gone."

"You honestly didn't think we'd fall for that, did you? Though Elena, Bonnie and Caroline didn't even question crossing the border until it was too late. Well done," Damon smirked. "That's a play right out of the Damon Salvatore handbook."

Stefan offered her an apologetic smile, greeting her with a side hug. "We're just doing what's best for you, and there was no way we were going to leave you here alone."

She leaned into her best friend for a moment before reaching out and taking the coffee Dean had slid across to her. "What's best for me is to be included in these decisions. When were you going to fill me in?"

Dean was on his second donut when he cleared his throat.

"Calm down," Damon said. He shot Dean a look of disgust as he swiped the extra powder from his jacket and turned his attention back to Y/N. "Empusa wants you specifically. We keep you safe, and let her come, stab her with your little knife, and we're all on our way."

Dean shrugged, nodding in agreement. He didn't particularly like Damon, but at least they were on the same page. "You're hanging back with Damon and Elijah," he said coldly, not making eye contact with her. "Elijah said you've got a safe house, that's where you'll go. When Sam and I are done, we'll circle back."

Stefan nodded. "Klaus and Caroline are cutting off anything that comes our way from the south, and Bonnie and Elena will take the border to the west, try to minimize the amount of monsters headed our way...make the barrier easier to hold for Freya."

She sighed. It was a solid plan, she couldn't deny, but it still felt like she was being handled with kid gloves, which was irritating. She brushed it aside, sliding the donut box from Dean and stealing a chocolate glazed donut. "Well, since you clearly don't need me..." she trailed off as she picked her coffee up and retreated to her room.

The guys exchanged looks and Dean shrugged.

"I forgot how bitchy she is before she's caffeinated," Damon commented. They shot him a disapproving look and he rolled his eyes, moving over to the bourbon.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Sam questioned.

Damon shot him a cocky smirk and continued to pour his glass. "After a century or so, time becomes relative."

"What my brother was trying to say," Stefan interrupted tactfully, "is that Y/N seems a little off. Everything okay?"

Sam pulled his lips tight, taking a step back as he glanced at his brother.

"Trouble in paradise?" Damon quipped.

Dean shifted in his seat. "What exactly is your role in all of this?" He snapped.

Damon stepped into Dean's space, who stood at his full height, not backing down. "Keeping your little warrior princess safe, while you're out playing good cop, bad cop."

"Guys..." Sam tried to interject the standoff.

"Damon," Stefan warned.

Damon eyed Dean up and down, sizing him up before taking a step back. "Elijah, my favorite Mikaelson..." The group turned their attention to the front door to find the Original standing in a pristine suit.

"Damon," he greeted. "My least favorite Salvatore. No offense, of course."

Damon gave a tight lipped smile. "None taken."

Dean threw his head back for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning his full attention to him. "Elijah...come on in," he said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Elijah just smiled knowingly. "Well, seeing as technically this is still my house, I'd be happy to, Dean."

Yea, well, you owning this house is exactly how Empusa got in here last time, Dean thought to himself, but said nothing. His mind raced to catch up while he attempted to keep his face straight. He knew Elijah had spent time there. But he actively tried to ignore the fact that he had lived there, let alone had bought it with Y/N. Once again the jealous pang settled into his chest.

"So we should probably get going..." Sam started.

Dean nodded in agreement. "Let me just grab my tie..." he said, excusing himself and heading upstairs.

He hadn't needed his tie. It was rolled up in his pocket, but he needed to see her.

He found her in her room, headphones in, bopping her head silently to the music blaring in her ears. She did this often at the bunker before a hunt - claiming it cleared her head so she could focus. He waited a moment, memorizing her before knocking lightly on the door frame.

Y/N sat up, taking the earbuds out and wrapping them up around her phone. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she chuckled. "Just trying to get some adrenaline going."

Dean smiled. "No shame in that."

She glanced at her phone and stood from the bed. "Shouldn't you be going?"

He nodded and pulled out his tie. "Yea," he nodded and turned to the full length mirror, adjusting the tie. His eyes caught hers in the reflection.

She moved behind him then, her hands coming up to rest on his gently before pushing them aside, knotting it for him. "You snuck out on me."

He looked down and cleared his throat. "Thought you could use the sleep," he said lamely.

"Dean."

His eyes flicked back up to hers in the mirror and she saw right through him. "I'm no good at this, Y/N." He turned around so they were face to face and she took a step back. "I'm out of my element here. I don't know where we stand, or if I can give you all this," he waved his hands around the room, at the home she had built with Elijah. "You've got yourself an apple pie life here, Y/N, even if it is surrounded by fangs."

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I'll be honest with you, I don't get it. Giving all this up..." he shook his head in disbelief. "It doesn't make sense...but I won't question it, because it brought you to me. Maybe that makes me selfish, I don't know, and I don't care, because I think after a lifetime of nothing but loss I deserve to be a little selfish here." He clenched his jaw, his hand rubbing over the tear trailing down his cheek before taking a steadying breath. "Everything up until this point, all of the crap we've gone through, it brought you to me...even if it was only for a little while."

She furrowed her brows...he was saying goodbye.

"But I can't keep doing this, Y/N."

She nodded in understanding, wishing things could be different for them.

His hand caressed her face, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek gently, coaxing her to look up again. "I can't share you with him," he breathed. "So let's just get through this hunt today, and then Sammy and I are gonna head home."

Her heart dropped, knowing what waited for her at the end of this hunt.

"I hope you come with us, because we need you." He pulled her into him, wrapping his free arm around her waist and kissing her forehead. "I need you," he whispered before pulling away again, heading for the door.

"Dean," she called after him. He turned and she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.

He returned the embrace, holding onto her tightly and rocking back so her feet didn't quite reach the ground. When he placed her back down she kissed him. It was simple and sweet, and they lingered for a moment, not wanting to pull away. When they parted he rested his forehead against hers.

"Let's go lovebirds!" Damon shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Dean groaned and Y/N sighed, still unmoving.

"I gotta go, baby," he whispered before dipping down and kissing her sweetly once more. His eyes lingered for a moment, his feet refusing to carry him from that spot - away from her.

She bit her lip, nodding and took a step back, away from his grasp. He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners but a hint of sadness behind them as he finally willed himself to leave her, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that told him it was goodbye.

*****

While Dean, Sam and Stefan cleared civilians out of Mystic Falls, Y/N had moved to a safe house that Elijah had insisted she had set up years ago. With Empusa ready to make her move it had been their best option, though Y/N had argued adamantly that she didn't need to hide, but fight.

It was a small property tucked away from the center of town that Y/N held the deed to - one she hadn't invited anyone into, not even Elijah. She had paid someone to stock it up with hunting supplies once, when the thought of coming back to Mystic Falls had briefly and foolishly crossed her mind. Still - you can never be too prepared, she thought, and she was grateful she had done so.

Y/N stood in the doorway of the cabin, an amused smirk on her lips.

"Oh you can't be serious," Damon rolled his eyes, side stepping Elijah and slamming straight into an invisible barrier.

"Elijah, would you like to come in?" Y/N asked, turning her attention to the Original with a soft smile.

His lips lifted up in an amused smirk as he nodded, casting a glance Damon's way before crossing the threshold. "Of course, thank you."

"Alright, very funny..." Damon remarked irritably.

Y/N had endured a painfully awkward morning with Damon and Elijah. She could only assume that they were both able to hear her conversation with Dean earlier, and the implications behind it. She was also aware that Damon thoroughly enjoyed pressing buttons at her expense in search of entertainment - especially in light of all the waiting around they seemed to be doing. He had spent the morning egging Elijah on, dropping suggestive comments about Dean to Y/N, and she was fed up.

"Damon," she sighed. "Would you like...to apologize?"

Damon glared at her. "We don't have time for games, Y/N. Invite me in."

She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, standing her ground and waiting. Damon glanced at Elijah for help, but he simply placed his hands in his pocket, staring at Damon expectantly.

"All you have to do is say you're sorry," she said.

"For what?" Damon asked, exasperated.

She raised her brows as if it were obvious. "For being an ass..."

"I've always been an ass."

"Yea but -"

Y/N was cut off when Elijah stepped back out onto the porch. "Shhh."

"What?" She asked, unable to hear anything other than the rain, but Elijah held his hand up.

Damon turned, listening as well. "We've got company," he said, his voice low.

"Do you smell that?" Elijah asked quietly.

"Werewolf..." Damon confirmed. "But it's not a full moon?"

Y/N moved to step outside, but Elijah tucked her back behind him, backing her into the house. "Lycan."

"What's the difference?" Y/N hissed.

"Lycans, much like Niklaus, are not slaves to the moon..."

"Not to mention they're stronger, and smarter...unlike your brother." Damon added with annoyance.

Y/N rushed further into the house, pulling a floorboard in the bedroom up, revealing hunting gear. She came back, a shotgun loaded with silver bullets at the ready. "Let's go hunting," she said, cocking the gun.

Elijah pushed her back into the house once more. "Silver will hurt it, but not kill it."

"Well, we'll figure it out along the way," Y/N argued.

"Can we discuss this inside?" Damon asked, annoyed.

Y/N nodded, forgetting she hadn't invited Damon in yet. "Shit, sorry," she mumbled. "Damon, would you like..."

She was cut off by a sudden ambush of a humanoid wolf, standing to its full height on its hind legs. He was twice the size of a normal man, with unusual strength if the way he knocked Damon clear across the porch and smashing into a nearby tree was any indication.

He turned his face, his lip curling up to reveal razor sharp teeth as he snarled at Y/N and Elijah. He reached his long arm out towards her, his nails thick and sharp, like claws. Before he could reach them, Elijah had grabbed her and had rushed them both out the back door.

He placed Y/N down, turning to face the lycan who was stomping around the edges of the house after them. "Y/N, you need to run," he pleaded. He could tell by its movements that this was a hunt and one he was enjoying. Y/N glanced at Damon, who was struggling to stand. He followed her gaze, knowing her concern was for her friend. "I'll get Damon," he assured her. "Go, now!"

She nodded, trusting Elijah to take care of Damon, and darted away from them. Her boots crunched the leaves beneath her, and she turned when she heard a loud crack, as though something had been thrown with force. She sighed, considering her options, knowing Elijah had wanted her to run.

But it wasn't in her to run from a fight.

While Elijah distracted the lycan, she circled back around the front of the house. She could hear the struggling going on, so she moved lightly but quickly until she reached the shotgun she had dropped when Elijah rushed her out.

She hustled, drawing the lycan's attention toward her. She could tell Elijah was angry at her for not listening, his angry glare falling on her just long enough for the lycan to swing, knocking him off balance. She knew she'd only have one shot before he was back up, whisking her away and leaving Damon to fend for himself. She aimed and fired, the kickback of the gun slamming into her injured shoulder and causing her to wince. The pain shot through her arm into her fingers as she watched the lycan drop with a yelp. She sighed in relief, and lowered her gun, her shoulder protesting, when she heard Elijah call out.

The lycan was back on his feet, lunging towards her. He slammed into her, and she dropped to the ground, the dampness from the rain seeping through her clothes. His teeth snapped at her and his large claws caged her neck, holding her down as she pressed up, using all her strength to hold his jaws away from her.

His breath was foul, and hot against her skin. Her muscles were on fire, and she felt her strength giving way, his jaws inching closer.

Suddenly and with a sickening tear the lycan dropped. She closed her eyes, turning her head away as he collapsed on top of her.

She shoved the body aside with a great deal of effort, looking up to find Elijah standing above her, a bloody spine in his hands and his chest heaving from the force.

"Not bad, Buffy." Damon quipped, clutching his side in pain.

She sat up, catching her breath as she offered Damon a lopsided grin.

Elijah offered his hand, helping her to her feet and cupping her face in his hands. "Are you alright?" He asked, brushing her wet hair back and taking stock of any injuries.

She nodded, shaking him off. "All good," she panted.

A roll of thunder echoed through the trees. He gripped the back of her elbow lightly, leading her into the house. "You do not leave my sight again, do you understand?"

"Elijah, I'm fine, really," she reassured him. He followed closely behind as she entered the cabin, and Y/N knew he was still worried. She sighed, turning to face him as she opened her mouth to insist she was okay, but the words died on her lips as she took in his appearance.

Droplets formed at the ends of his hair, soaked from the rain, and his hand was covered with blood. The sleeve of his suit was stained crimson - almost black - from the lycan's blood up to his elbow, the rest of the suit ruined by the storm. She glanced down at her own clothes, splattered with filth and the tell tale sign of a hunt.

But despite the state they were both in, what caught her off guard was the worry flooding his eyes. Elijah, who was always so calm and confident.

She stepped toward him and stroked his cheek gently. "I promise, I'm okay."

He nodded, his clean hand coming up to the back of her neck, pulling her in as he rested his forehead against hers. He focused on her breathing, her heart pumping steadily, the warmth of her skin, despite the chill of the rain. All signs she was alive and well. He let out a breath. "I can't lose you again," he whispered.

Before she could reply, Damon's voice cut through the moment. "We get it. You love her, she loves Dean...cute little love triangle going on that would make even the CW proud. But we don't have time for this, so for the love of God, Y/N, please invite me in."

She sighed, separating herself from Elijah. "Damon," she gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Would you like to come in?"

He gave her a devilish grin. "I thought you'd never ask," he winked as he stepped over the threshold.

They settled in, mostly in silence. Elijah cleaned himself up as Damon called to check in with Elena. Y/N kept her mouth shut when they began to argue - Elena presumably furious he had lied to get her out of Mystic Falls. Y/N couldn't judge, it had been her idea, after all. Besides, she'd done worse, and would do worse still, to keep those she loved safe.

Elijah returned, cleaned up as best as he could be, and took in the sight of her from the doorway of the bedroom. He said nothing for a moment, watching as Y/N made busy work with organizing the hunting gear she had brought with her, and the few things that had been stored at the cabin.

He knew Damon had been fishing for a reaction all day, as he so often did, but bit his tongue. Still - he let Damon's words from earlier dig at him despite his better judgement.

"She loves Dean."

He shook the thought away, coming up behind Y/N and reaching around, stilling her movements when he placed his hand on top of hers. She turned, their faces dangerously close.

"Leave it," he said softly.

She knew what he was saying. She didn't need to bother with her gear, because she wouldn't be fighting today. Her eyes flicked to his lips involuntarily. "I can't just stand back," she said, her tongue darting out to lick her own lips. "I have a job to do."

"Your job is to stay alive," he reminded her.

Elijah took another deep breath as he stepped away from her, her silence deafening. He placed his hand in his pocket and watched her for a moment, committing her to memory before clearing his throat and averting his gaze. "You've made your decision."

She bit her lip. "Elijah," she moved to comfort him and he took a slight step back.

"You're choosing Dean." It wasn't a question. His eyes studied her, searching for honesty, even if it wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"It's not that simple..." She shook her head. "Elijah, I love you. Since the day that I met you, I have felt everything for you." Her eyes bore into his, and he knew she meant every word.

He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.

"But I love Dean, too," she let the whispered words sink in for a moment, wishing they hadn't hurt. "I can't ignore that. When I left you...my whole world fell apart. I spent so long trying to forget you. I thought maybe if I drank enough, or hunted enough...that maybe one day I'd figure out how to even think about you without it ripping my heart out..." she trailed off, searching for words to make him understand. Because she needed him to understand. "I was drowning. I kept wondering when I'd breathe again, and then Dean was there. I was so lost without you...and he found me. I wish I could tell you that things weren't complicated, that I didn't have feelings for him, or that I could just turn them off so I could stop hurting you both."

He had known it was coming, but it hadn't lessened the blow. His heart shattered and he wondered if this was what death really felt like - like gasping for air, his heart burning before giving out, the pain unbearable until it all fell away because nothing was left but darkness.

"Earlier you said you couldn't lose me again..."

He kept his eyes trained on her despite everything in his body telling him to walk away, because he needed to hear her say it.

"And I know you mean it," she continued. "With everything happening...you'd do anything to keep me safe..."

He nodded. "Nothing would ever change that. I made a promise to keep you safe, always and forever."

She moved into him, placing her free hand on his chest. His own hand came to rest on hers, his fingers gripping onto her as if he could hold her to him forever. "I know. You'd die for me."

He knitted his brows together, unsure where she was going or why it was even a question.

"I can't lose you again either, Elijah."

He shook his head and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as hope filled him, seeping into the cracks of his shattered heart. "You'll never lose me," he said, pressing his lips against her head urgently, as if he'd never get the chance to hold her again.

She let him envelop her, feeling safe in his arms. Part of her wished she could stay there, make herself a home wrapped up in him.

But another part of her belonged to Dean in a way she couldn't explain.

She breathed him in, steadying herself for what she had to do, reminding herself that she'd do anything to keep him safe, too.

She held onto that notion as she pulled back to look at him once more. She stroked his jawline tenderly. "Elijah, I love you," she whispered. "Always and forever. But I need you to promise me something."

His eyes searched hers eagerly, desperately even. "Anything."

"I need you to let me go."

Before he could protest, he felt the sharp stab of betrayal. Searing pain ripped through him before he began to go cold. He looked down to find a dagger, dipped in the ash of the white oak, pressing into his heart, her hand gripping the hilt.

His eyes sought hers slowly as he felt the life draining from his body, the realization that she had  no intention of surviving dawning on him, tearing through his heart in a way he had never felt before, leaving him completely hopeless.

Her eyes glistened with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered before his world went black.

Y/N struggled to lay him down gently as his body sagged in her arm. She knelt beside him, brushing his hair back. "Forgive me," she whispered before standing and wiping her eyes.

"You did what you had to do," Damon said softly from the doorway.

She knew he was right. She couldn't risk Elijah dying trying to keep her safe, and there was no way Elijah would have stepped aside so she could sacrifice herself for him or anyone else. She knew Damon of all people would understand, which is why she had asked him for the dagger in the first place - why she didn't need to beg him to compel her to be brave enough to do it when the time came.

"When this is all over, I'll wake him up," he promised.

She turned and nodded solemnly. "Tell him for me? Tell him how sorry I am, and that I love him."

Damon offered her a sad smile and nodded. "Come on," he held his arm out, and when she walked towards him he wrapped it around her. "Let's go."

She didn't turn back to look at Elijah for fear of breaking her own heart beyond repair. She couldn't afford it. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back and marched forward, focused on the task at hand.

*****

Stefan knelt over the corpse before him. "Lycan," he stated.

Sam raised his brows, stamping down his curiosity. He had of course read about them, but never encountered one himself - at least not a pureblood.

"Great," Dean mumbled. "So where the hell is she?"

They stepped up to the cabin, the Winchesters stepping through the doorway cautiously. Stefan lingered, listening, but hearing no sign of life from inside. He waited, unable to cross the threshold, to see what they'd find.

"Dammit!" Dean's voice boomed from within the cabin.

The brothers stormed back out onto the porch, and Stefan knew it could only be bad news. "Where are they?"

Dean had his phone pressed to his ear, hanging up in frustration. "She's not answering..."

Stefan pulled his phone out and dialed Damon, but it went straight to voicemail. "Neither is Damon..."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Where would they have gone?" Sam asked.

It didn't take Dean long to put the pieces together. The second he saw Elijah's body, daggered and dead, he had known. "She's on a goddamn suicide mission."

#Treacherous #Supernatural fanfiction #The Originals fanfiction #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x You #Elijah Mikaelson x Reader #Elijah Mikaelson x You #Elijah Mikaelson imagine #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural #spn #the originals #originals #to #tvd #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #vampire #hunter #reader insert #dean winchester #Elijah mikaelson #fanfic #spn fic #spn crossover #tvd crossover #alternate universe

[half-mer-child]

Can you do a scenario when some of the merformers get very lonely and instantly cling on to the reader when they see them (if you want to of course UwU)

Lost Light Pod

Rodimus isn't in a good mood. He's having a bad day and he's starting to doubt himself, doubt his leadership. You notice he's distancing himself and isn't talking to the other mers. Tapping on the glass when he's alone he looks up at you eyes tired. He chirps and goes back to beong curled up in a ball. Climbing into the tank and hugging him he turns before nuzzling you. He churrs pulling you close and taking comfort in your embrace.

Drift doesn't show when he's sad. He's very good at keeping his emotions close and always appearing happy or at least calm. However a good friend like you can see the difference between a fake smile and a real smile. When he is alone with his thoughts he hears you coming and trills surprised when arms slip around his waist. He takes the gesture in kind and nuzzles you, your smile cheering him up.

Minimus is not a very emotional mer. He has emotions regardless of what Rodimus thinks but he's not good at expressing them. He is tiny but he is in a position of power and he wants to be respected which is sometimes hard given his size. He has anxiety over decisions he's made that have gone wrong. He fears he will makea mistake and hurt mers that he isn't good enough. It's days where he won't come out of his office won't stop writing and filing that you sneak in. He would scold you about knocking but you slip into his lap and stay quiet. He says nothing but pulls you closer hugging you as he does his work. You chase away all his fear and anxiety. You are one of the many reasons he continues to work and enforce the rules.

Megatron has many regrets. He is the one whi started the war. He is the one who killed millions of humans and thousands of mers. He does not deserve your kindness your sweet words or your affection but you give it. Holding you close body trembling he curls around you protectively as he whispers words of assurance. He promises you won't be another mistake and he will ALWAYS protect you just as you protect him from himself.

Chromedome is a sweet mer. One with many issues and few solutions but a kind mer. He cares about his friends and pod deeply a little too deeply. He struggles with messing with his memories and on his bad days he'll stare at his claws wanting to use them. To sink them into flesh and remove or give memories. These thoughts disgust him and he cries curling in on himself. When you touch him he cries more. Your so soft and sweet and gentle please... please... Gently wrapping your arm around him whispering reassurances he calms down holding you close. Please don't leave.

Rewind is a pleasant mer. Everyone loves him. Hes small he's kind and he's gentle. Very talkative and cuddly but not overbearingly so. He tries to be polite but there are some days where he's snippy and annoyed. Maybe him and Chromedome got in a fight. Maybe he's just not in a good mood. But something about the way you wrap your arms around him and hide in his chest even though your about the same size. It melts his heart that you see he's upset amd comfort him. He chirps and holds you close.

Cyclonus is a mech of few words. His face is set in a permanent frown and he doenst ever seem happy or sad. But there are days where he'll look at his sword and stare off into space or nights where he can't sleep. He holds Tailgate close on one of these nights and as he tries to drift off he sees you. You swim over quietly and humming softly at him he hums back moving to allow you room. You slip into the cuddle pile and snuggle close to Cyclonus humming softly. Closing his eyes feeling better a small smile you can't see graces his face as he hums with you. It's nights like these that chase the dark thoughts away.

Tailgate is not a sad mer. He's small and cuddly and full of love and energy and life. Everyone loves Tailgate and he loves them too. He's always willing to give a hug or show off a cool trick of asked but there are days although far and few between where he gets tired. He doesn't want to play or cuddle he wants to sleep and lay down and just do nothing because all his energy is gone and he's cranky. On these days where he feels miserable the only thing that cherrs him up if to be sandwiched between you and Cyclonus. Tucked under his chin squeezing him tightly as Cyclonus curls around you both he feels happier than he ever has.

Swerve is always depressed. He feels unwanted and unloved in his pod. Sure he has a couple friends and he's a decent guy but he talks to much and he knows this but he CAN'T S T O P. He knows people and mers alike hate it and hate him. When he goes completely silent it's a dead give away somethings wrong but a lot of mers just continue on with their day glad for the silence. You however kind and sweet and oh so so so amazing friend you are give him smooches as you wrap your arms around his tubby clownfish body. If anyone could put a smile on his face its you.

Skids is usually pretty happy but sometimes he just gets tired. He's not always sure why but sometimes he just wants to lay down and not sleep exactly but not be here. When your soft hands touch his dull scales face concerned he smiles up at you softly and enjoys the attention. It may take awhile but the feeling will fade. Until then your headpats keep him content as you help fight off his dread.

Rung is a therapist. He must always have a professional and calm attitude but there are some days where he just can't. He did not fight in the war but it weighs heavily on him. So many sparks lost. So many innocent mers. The bloodshed and the screams often keep him awake at night. But it is his job to comfort others so when you appear and give him a hug and hold on he knows your comforting him. Closing his eyes he holds you back. Sometimes kindess returns it's favor.

Whirl is choas and anger incarnate. He is an angry lobster and he lets everyone know it. But some days he doenst have the energy to be angry. Some days he sits at the bottom of his tank and sulks. These are the days with intrusive thoughts and self loathing. The days where he wants to die but doenst have the energy to carry out the act. These are the days he hates himself, he hates everyone. But as you lay on top of him hands warm and gentle as they hug his sharp frame he can't have the heart to hate you. He churrs sadly and the hug gets tighter. He could never hate you.

Nautica chirps sadly and looks up at you with her sad blue eyes. You can't deny the cute mers request and slip into the tank with her. She churrs happily as she nuzzles into your warm skin. Petting her fins she chirps now in a much better mood with her favorite human.

Brainstorm sighs loudly and pouts. Paying him no mind his sighs gets louder until you finally look away from your work and up at him. He sniffles eyes looking down as his fins hang down sad. Rolling your eyes you step into the tank and he chirps excited as he holds you close nuzzling you all over. Manipulative little mer.

Primes Pod

Optimus hadn't been in the best mood. The war is over and with it he can fully realize all the things he's done wrong. All of the mers he could've saved. He sits on a cove watching the still kelp forest. It used to be full of pups amd expecting parents. Seeing it so empty hallows it's heart. He pauses when he sees you. He can not muster the energy to smile but you don't expect him too. Holding his hand you both sit and stare. The war has caused much pain but people like you, those who try and make peace, they make it worth it.

Arcee is tired. She won't even pretend she's not as she lays still. Her scales are duller than usual and her visit to Jack seemed to make her more tired rather than reinvigorated. She sighs. Hearing you approach she says nothing. When your fingers interlace with yours she says nothing. When you lay down with her in silence she says nothing but actions speak louder than words and the smile you give as she pulls you close almost makes her feel better.

Bumblebee has lived his entire life in war. He doesn't have a memory where war or the looming threat of it wasn't present in his life. He had to grow up fast and didn't have much time to just be a kid. He's watched many friends die or get hurt in the heat of battle and that weighs heavily on him. He has many scars and sometimes they make him self conscious. So when you silently sit in his lap hands wandering his frame and tracing his scars he can't help but feel a flutter of pride. Finally the war is over and hopefully he can enjoy it with you.

Bulkhead worked with mers who threw themselves into battle knowing that they may not come back. He has seen pretty grim things and although he's usually pretty bubbly sometimes he just needs a break, he needs to be sad. Sitting on a rock sunbasking staring at the sea he lets his mind fill with dark thoughts as he mourns his lost friends. He wants to be alone but you don't allow it. You and all your stubbornness lay on the rock suffering the discomfort to give him confort. He's silent for a long while but sighing he slowly starts telling you tales of war and battle. He smiles as your face lights up and you scoot closer listening. He snuggles close to you shell softer than rock as he tells you stories late into the night no longer feeling sad.

WheelJack is quiet when he's sad or deep in thought. He's never quiet so you notice right away. And he notices you notice but he won't talk about it. As he stares at the stars floating on the water he can't speak, or maybe he just won't but you don't make him. Floating next to him fingers interlocked he closes his eyes dark thoughts fading away as he feels you next to him. Maybe someday he'll tell you what's in his head but today he just wanta to feel you close, ready to listen if he decides to speak.

Ultra Magnus isn't very feeling. He has emotions but he prioritizes order and rules over feelings. Sometimes when no one is payong attention he'll slip off to be alone for a couple hours. He won't really go anywhere, just wander around seemingly lost. He doesn't know what he's looking for but he feels like he's lost something very important. One day when you come with him following close but giving him space he wonders if your what he's wanted all along.

Smokescreen never really saw a lot of battle. He was a guard but what he gaurded no one came after. He longed for glory. For battle scars and stories to tell. He wants to prove himself and show he has what it takes to be a warrior. Now that the war is over there are many times he feels like he never did anything. He shouldn't be considered a hero by humans if he never actually did anything heroic. When you smooch his cheek holding his hand telling him he did good his heart flutters. At least in your eyes he's a hero.

Knockout joined the automers later and he regrets waiting so long. Serving under Megatron taking abuse and never being thanked for his work was hard. He is often unsure of himself despite his facade and feels inferior thanks to never being praised or given credit. These thoughts get especially loud when Breakdown is away or he patched up someone and later they come back still in pain. His hands shake as he thinks of the past and his shortcomings but when he feels your hands on top of his they stop shaking and he stops worrying. With you he feels all the confidence he pretends to have become real.

Breakdown has done some messy things. Near the end of the war him and Knockout fled the deceptimers and pleaded sanctuary with the automers. It was hard. Adjusting. Seeing old enemies as new friends. Sometimes he'd start a fight or do something that made him feel like he was putting Knockout in danger and this caused him to feel unsafe and scared. But the more time he spent with you and the more time he spent with his new pod slowly these feelings faded away. With you tucked under his chin listening to his stories he felt he could take on the world.

Decepticon Mer Facility

Lugnut misses war. He misses blood and choas as roars echo through the waves, storms raging above the water. He misses the thrill of pleasing his master Megatron and the honor of being a deceptimer. He knows the war is over. That a truce was called and that everyone was tried for war crimes regardless of side. He now rots here, away from Megatron and his mate and sometimes it makes him tired. He lays down unmoving even as fish swim around him. He has no hunger only shame. Staring at the walls outside his container he pauses as you come in the tank. He can smell Megatrons scent on you and he knows you are a friend. As arms wrap around him he closes his eyes. The war is over but you and Megatron still stay loyal friends amd for now that is enough.

Blitzwing is often a whirl of emotions. Sadness is not usually one of them. Maybe he misses being free in the ocean. Maybe he misses war and choas or maybe without the war, without battle he realizes how lonely he is. The slits in his mouth are still as his mind reals over the war and all it's lost opportunities. Blitzwing pauses when he feels arms wrap around him. Chirping confused he turns and sees you giving him a hug. Tilting his helm he hums holding you close. Maybe the war and his purpose are over but at least he has you.

DreadWing put himself in here on purpose. Prime offered him a place in his pod but he refused. The war is over his brother is dead and no one cares about him. He's ready to join the AllSpark and see SkyQuake again. Laying down in his tank not eating he watches as you enter. You don't say anything but laying down next to him he knows you want too. He can't bring himself to pull away as you reach out and softly touch him. He simply closes his eyes and leans onto your touch letting out a sad trill. He is old and he is tired but you are young and so kind and he can't help but lean into your warm comforting touch and wander how he ever deserved such kindness? He doesn't question it and hums leaning into your touch content to just live even if it's not for much longer.

#merformers #readers life #rodimus #drift #megatron #chromedome #rewind #tailgate #cyclonus #swerve #skids #nautica #brainstorm #whirl #rung #prime pod #optimus #arcee #bumblebee #bulkhead #wheeljack #ultra magnus #smokescreen #knockout #breakdown #decepticon rehabiltation facility #dreadwing #blitzwing #lugnut #ambus minimus

[doubleshuck]

[Story credit: /u/cryinginchurch]

Sorry this is so long! I haven't told anyone besides some family members this.

This happened when I was about 13 or so. It was summertime and I was on vacation with my parents, we had hit the road and driven quite a ways to visit my older sister who lived across the country. After spending time together and sharing supper we decided to call it a night. My parents slept in my sisters bedroom and she slept in the neighbouring room with her small son.

It's important to note a few things at this point. My mother is a round, short woman with very delicate, feminine features. She has round glasses and that night went to bed in a long, blue night gown. My sister on the other hand, is very tall and athletically built, taking after my dad in regards to her facial features. She too has glasses but unlike my mother, hers were square shaped. She went to bed in a shorter, orange and striped nightgown. These small but substantial differences are key.

Now, since all of the bedrooms were full, I was given a blanket and pillow to sleep on the couch with. Of course like any kid, I watched TV for a few hours, well into the night. At around 4 am it dawned on me that we had plans for the next day so I should try and get some rest. After tossing and turning for about an hour or so, I gave up an just laid on my back staring at the stars visible from the near by window. As the natural light flooded the room from the sun rising I flipped through some photo albums. I did this for a while, not having slept at all the entire night. At this point I was pretty bored and lonely, hoping someone would wake up soon and talk to me.

Around 8 am, I heard a door slowly open and someone came out into the hallway. At my sisters house, the living room is sunken in and a small staircase of maybe 3 steps leads to the raised kitchen and dining room. The hallway is also in this raised area and connects to the bathroom and bedrooms. In the living room there is a doorless archyway that leads down to the basement and laundry room. This means that I could look up and see what was going on in the dining area from the couch.

This person hummed a little and then was caught off guard by a table in the dining room, full of framed pictures of family my sister had on display. I don't know how to describe the way they looked at the photos besides saying they were bewildered by them. Maybe even enchanted, letting out an occasional "Oh!" and "Ahh!".

I could tell it was a woman but I wasn't sure if it was my mother or sister. This was strange because like I said, they looked alike but were also very distinguishable. I also felt this weird feeling because everyone in my family has seen these photos many times and I'd even say may own a few copies of their own of those exact same photos, so why act so amazed by them?

I said "Hey! Ma? What're you doing?" in a nervous yet warm voice. No response. Okay then, it was my sister. "Hey, Good Morning _____! What are you making your dear sibling for breakfast?" No response. Huh. I knew I was definitely loud enough, they had heard me for sure.

That uneasy feeling in my stomach grew stronger now, and I had no idea why. The likeness of my sister and mother was there, so it wasn't like a stranger or something. Then I noticed something very off, they were wearing a knee length, blue and orange striped nightgown. Their height wasn't short but it wasn't tall either, it was average. They had a muscular build but could not be called skinny either. The hair was the same colour as both my sister and mothers and so was the skin colour. My heart sank and I thought who the hell is this? Maybe someone stayed overnight? But how could they have, I had laid right beside the front door all night..

When they turned around and went to inspect another photograph on a wall near that staircase, their face made my heart sink. It was a hybrid of my mother and sisters most discernible features, with glasses that were round on the bottom but squared on the top. Their eyes were not my mothers or my sisters. They were very wide and unnerving and darted all around the walls very quickly. Very excitedly. It was as if my mother and sister had been Frankenstein-ed together into one person.

My knee jerk reaction after seeing their face was to scooch my legs in and pretend I was sleeping. I could feel the veins in my neck beating very hard and my breathing became very loud and laboured. Whoever the hell it was, came down the stairs and looked around the living room with that same excitement. I don't know how to explain how scared I was as it came closer to me. I thought maybe if I stayed quiet it would pass by me. I was also scratching and pinching myself now, in case I was asleep without realizing it. The pain was very real, I was awake.

The thing, I watched with my eyes squinted took up an interest in a photo album I had left on the table, very close to me. Then, probably the worst thing that could have happened, happened. My sisters portable home phone rang. My sister had answered a call last night and had put the phone on the couch's frame between the wall and its cushions. The things face became very alarmed and it turned in my direction and saw me and became very, very angry. I opened my eyes and looked at her in her face and just stared back, with my entire body trembling. Its eyes were pure black, total darkness like two huge pupils staring right at me and furious. It opened its mouth unnaturally wide and screamed NOOOOOO at me, then turned and darted down the stairs to the basement where I heard a door slam shut and it kept yelling NO NO NO NO NO!. I stared at the archway for a long time, still shaking and digging my nails into my arm, begging to wake up because I was so afraid it would come back, wishing I was just dreaming.

An hour must have passed like that, I did not move. It had stopped yelling and this was for some reason even scarier than when it had been yelling because at least then I was sure it was downstairs and not slowly climbing back up the stairs to fillet me alive.

I heard a door open again from the hallways upstairs and stared at it, full of adrenaline at this point. It was my mom, exactly herself and in the right nightgown. she was humming as she put on coffee and started making toast. another door opened, my sister this time. Fully as she had looked before heading off to bed. She and my mom talked for a bit and I just stared at them. My sister eventually saw me staring at her over the banister and yelled "Haha, what the hell! Why are you just staring at me, why didn't you say something?" I replied back in a very shaky voice "I did... twice." They looked at each other as if to say Huh? and I told my mom I hadn't slept yet and she said that was a big mistake, etc. I are breakfast with them and then realized eventually I was awake and had really not slept at any point that night. I decided against my judgment to tell them what had just happened, in case it came upstairs to hurt them.

They pretty much laughed at me and told me I had just fallen asleep and imagined it/ Told me I was nuts. My sister told me to go sleep with my nephew and asked me to try and fix the screen in her room as it had somehow fallen out of the window onto the floor in the night.. :'|

On my way to her room, I walked by that table in the dining room and noticed all of the frames were moved and in different places than last night. I pointed this out very excitedly like SEE!? SEE? and my sister just shrugged it off and said her son liked looking at them. I kept pressing the issue so my sister (much to my hysterical protest) went to the basement in every room just to make me shut up about it. She didn't see anything unusual.

I laid in the bed and did not sleep a wink. I still think about it from time to time and did not ever sleep on that couch again, opting instead to sleep in the floor of the room my parents were in and locking the door.

#creepy #unexplained #paranormal #unnerving #reddit #text story #upload