#there aren’t enough pink hearts in the world to express my gratitude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

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Umbra | J.Seo (m) 2

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members, hints towards poly x reader

》 Warnings: dick sucking, pussy eating, Johnny lowkey being a soft dom, daddy kink....I know y'all saw it coming don't even yell at me, you almost get eaten by a bad vampire but Yuta says not on my watch, Jungwoo being THEE bestest boy, mentions of marking/biting, masturbation...this is nasty I'm sorry, this story also eludes to action based violence, guest appearance by Kim Jongin

Johnny's self control wilts down to almost nothing with you, a real issue when you're in situations like this, literally begging to suck his cock despite the fact that his immortal brothers are right downstairs.

"Please, let me suck you off, pleaaassse?"

You're too good at this, but more than that you actually really are that desperate to have him in your mouth. He can feel it all around you, like a current rippling around a vibrating force. More so, he can smell it. His mouth waters.

"Fuck - you're really really misbehaving right now," He clenches his jaw as if he's agitated but you know by the way he allows you to stroke his length, by the way that he grinds his hips along with your rubbing that you've won.

"You really want it that bad? Hmm?" He grasps your chin firmly between two of his fingers, eyes low like that of a wild animal while he gazes into you. Your fervent nod is all that you use to reply while you shuffle down onto your knees, splaying your fingers across the meat of his thick thighs.

"You've barely even kissed me all day Johnny, it's the least you could do for me." You're exaggerating about the kissing part, but your teasing smile makes up for it, so does your palm tracing the protruding outline of his hard on.

Your eyes are so big, so innocent staring up at him from between his legs and he can't take it. Not when you're acting as if sucking him off is something that is an act of pleasure for you, like you need it.

"I'm sorry baby, didn't mean to neglect you," His resolve has been completely demolished, smashed to smithereens as your fingers undo the button of his jeans. "go ahead."

He presses his heels off the ground and lifts his hips, aiding you in pulling his pants off of his narrow hips, along with his black briefs. You really are impatient, not even bothering to pull either of the garments all the way down past his knees and barely letting his dick spring free from the confines.

He lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around him so eagerly, bringing your lips to the thick of his shaft near his balls and pressing open mouthes kisses along the silky skin, ascending. He cradles your face all the while, biting back a groan when you circle your tongue around his plum tip.

You hum while he slips to the back of your throat, his cock only halfway in your mouth, pressing against your uvula. His jaw clenches, fingers clawing at his couch and chin in the air with the way he's thrown his head back against the cushions.

He always forgets just how good your mouth feels, how warm and wet and soft it is. You're so sloppy in your gratitude, and it's so endearing, so sweet and nasty. You pull him out just to kitten lick the tip, and the muscles in his thighs tense.

"Oh shit baby, yeah," he pants, reaching out to move bits of your hair that have fallen into your face. You take just the smooth head past your lips, hollowing your cheeks. "juuuust like that."

You sort of regret looking up at him through your lashes and seeing the downright dirty expression he's wearing so unabashedly, tongue wetting his plush lips while he captures your gaze like a deer in headlights.

The eye contact causes a profuse flutter to swarm in your belly, the burn of lust seeping between your thighs and engorging your clit until it's throbbing. You whine, the sound reverberating around his length as your throat constricts around him, and you gag, saliva dribbling down the veins of his shaft.

"Fuck, be careful baby," he taunts, purposely bucking his hips, only slightly as to prompt the sound from you again. You oblige him happily, driven by the gruffness of his tone. "your little throat might not be able to take all of daddy's dick."

Need surges through you like you've just been submerged in ice water, the feeling starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, the tip of your tongue. It leaves a tingling sensation in it's wake.

Without thinking, you use your free hand - the one that's not wrapped around the rest of his length that you aren't able to reach - and slip it down between your legs, rubbing yourself through your bottoms. It's all too much and you're so wet, so lost in the way prospect of it all.

He sees you, of course, but he doesn't have the heart to stop you. Not when he knows how horny you are, how badly you need to be touched. Really, if it weren't for the fact that you're so jubilantly sucking his dick right now, he'd rip you from off the floor and eat you till you're raw - but that'll come soon enough.

He's content for now, holding your face while you swirl your tongue around his aching dick, and he can hear the squelch of your wetness as you fuck yourself with your fingers. His throat burns at the thought of tasting it.

You quiver, and he realizes the pleasure you're giving yourself is making you falter, and he coos your name. "Look at you," he sounds awed, high off of the moment. "I'm gonna fuckin' cum, keep touching yourself like that."

And you do, despite the fact that it's got you all wobbly and sloppy. But he's okay with you just suckling the tip of his dick like you are, cheek against his thigh while your tongue licks his frenulum. It's when you look up at him like he's the whole world and more and he can see just how fucked out you are, lost in the haziness of the act, that he feels the muscles in his abdomen tense, eyes going black while the wave of ecstasy washes through him.

You swallow his cum greedily, moaning around his twitching length while the sweetness envelopes you from inside out. He hisses through his teeth while you mouth at his still inflated cock, before the floor shifts from underneath your knees and suddenly you're lying back against the bouncy cushions of the leather sofa.

"Look how wet that made you," cool air breezes against your sopping, naked sex, and you realize that the blur of fabric that you've just seen tossed behind him is your pants. "your little clit is swollen and everything."

His index and ring finger form a v shape as he spreads your lips apart, marveling at the stickiness that decorates your folds in wet strings. His free arm hooks around your right thigh and with a simple jerk he pulls you just inches away from his awaiting mouth.

Only one whine slips from your throat before he encapsulates your bud with his soft, cool lips - eyes trained on you while he twirls his skilled tongue in circles around it. He pulls away with an obnoxious, lewd sucking sound before diving back in, and your fingers reach for the front of his hair where it falls in his face.

You wonder how someone can be so skilled in all departments, it's utterly unfair. His tongue is fast, avaricious yet somehow so precise, never concentrating on one place too long and always giving you exactly what you need where you need it.

Even the image of him between your legs has you jerking, trying desperately to fight the way your eyes are shutting closed. The sound you made must have been pleasant to him - you're not sure yourself because all you can hear is his slurping and your own heartbeat - and he chuckles menacingly, pulling back to admire your spit soaked center. He keeps the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit.

"Talk to me baby, come on," he brings his mouth to hover over your heat, teasing you will the coolness of his breath. His smile is toothy when you whimper. "tell me how good I make you feel."

You writhe, grinding against his face when he uses the tip of his pink muscle to lick at your folds, your entrance. "You make me feel so good, so so good please please, don't stop." This satiates him, his vigor returning while you feel two of his fingers abruptly slide into you, the glide effortless.

You're loud now, completely forgetting about the rest of the houses inhabitants - and he has to from there way he curls the two digits, massaging your spongy walls in a come hither motion.

It's just what you needed to be on the verge of bliss, eyes shut tightly while you lose half of the strength in your already wobbly limbs, allowing him to hold you against his face while he eats until he's full.

You manage to reach down and grip onto his bicep, flexing and bulging underneath your fingertips from the way he fucks his fingers into your hole.

"Daddy...ohhhh daddy, mmm." You're slurring on your words but he hears them loud and clear, and a sound so jarring leaves his throat that you manage to pull yourself together enough to look down.

It never doesn't cause an automatic reaction of thrill to surge through your chest, like having the wind knocked out of you. The inky darkness fills his eyes, waterline violently red and you can see sharp, white teeth behind parted lips each time he licks a stripe through your cunt.

The force of your orgasm leaves you silent for a moment, like being submerged under water and all you can hear is the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, the outside world a muffled melody.

You're still aware that his mouth hasn't given up, even as you leak and twitch and pull at his hair with a force that would hurt a human - but it only makes him harder, more greedy.

The pleasure still thrums in your bones as you come down, muscles flexing reflectively from the aftershocks, your palm against his forehead finally convincing him to hold off. Gentleness replaces his covet, and soft wet plucks of warmth are being spread across your thighs, in between them. Then, against your lips.

"Are you okay? Open your eyes so I know you aren't dead." The boop of his nose against yours along with his silliness has you giggling suddenly, despite the fact that you're still throbbing between your legs.

"I'll keep them closed as long as I want, I deserve it after that." You state, feigning resistance while crossing your arms over your chest. He's Johnny, though, so you're not surprised to feel the ghost of his mouth against the collumn of your throat, his breathing deliberate.

"Can you blame me? You don't make it very easy." He kisses your jaw, down to your chin and then to your lips, and you succumb. Just as he grasps your face, you feel the tip of his dick graze your sensitive center, and your gasp has him smiling against your mouth.

He pulls away, pulling his jeans up fast - but not fast enough - and you pout seeing that his dick is still so hard, obvious and bulging. As if already sensing what you're gonna say, he rolls his eyes, grabbing your bottoms from the floor and slipping them past your feet, up your thighs.

"I'm fine, more than fine. It's just vampire stamina, baby." He smirks and you fight back your whine, not being able to stop the joyous swelling of your heart whenever you even glance in his direction.

Once your pants are on you curl up to his side, nuzzling your face against the firmness of his chest. "Why do you want to neglect yourself so much? Is having sex with me soooooo taxing?" You tease, knowing he's scowling at you for the implication at all. What can you say? You're a menace.

"You're silly, ridiculous even. If I put my dick in you now, we won't be done until the sun falls. I'd rather not push it," he strokes your arms, your back. You wrap your arms around his torso. "plus Jungwoo and I were going to stop by the bank and feed, I'll need to get you home before then."

At this you sit up, his expression neutral while you turn to face him. "Why can't I stay?" You aren't quite sure how he feels about this, his dark eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if contemplating, while his hands play with your fingers.

"You want to spend the night in a house full of vampires?" Anyone else who hears his tone would think he's upset, mocking your judgement even - but you know him enough to tell that he's actually just perplexed, curious.

"I want to spend the night with you, in your room. I know it may seem stupid but I just-" his hands come to cradle your face, lips shushing you with a gentle peck. The contact has you hazy when he pulls away.

"None of that, remember? It's not stupid, I want you here too, of course. But I'll be gone come midnight to go with Jungwoo, I know that no harm will come to you but I have to know that you're comfortable."

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, heart doing flips at the prospect of actually being able to sleep in his room surrounded by things he enjoys, in a setting that involves him more than it does you. You smile shyly.

"I'm comfortable, really. I trust you, and I trust your weird vampire rules too." You're being honest, and maybe it sounds sketchy from an outside perspective - but nothing in your body feel inherently afraid. Maybe it's Jungwoos warm aura despite being frozen and youthful, or maybe it's your own stupidity - but you feel safe, oddly enough.

"I have shirts and pants in the closet there, in the black drawers," he points to a door just to the left of you both, and you realize you completely missed it. "and I can order some food for you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him again while pleasant thoughts about the evenings plans begin to fill your head.

You're not sure what time it is when you awake, the blare of the movie you'd passed out while watching playing on his flat screen. It's the only light in the room and between flashes of scenes you struggle to find your phone, grabbing it once it's in your grasp.

12:30 AM.

You sit up, stretching your arms above your head. Once you'd eaten the takeout Johnny had delivered, you couldn't fight the need for sleep, and you're a bit annoyed now that you hadn't stayed up a little while longer. At least until he had to leave.

You yawn, and it occurs to you than your throat is dry, very dry. You search your surroundings for the water bottle you had earlier, but your hand smacks the empty container and sends it flying - a sigh leaving your lips.

You shouldn't. You really shouldn't, this wasn't part of the agreement - wandering off through the house on your own, especially not when he's gone. Your feet are moving before you make a conscious decision.

It's not like he expected you to just stay in his room, right? He would have told you specifically, sternly. Plus, you want something to drink, hopefully they have ice, or water. Of course they have water, dummy. Your hand wraps around his doorknob, and the darkness of the home greets you when you walk out, dressed in one Johnny's shirts and a pair of his sweats.

It's eery, you'll admit that much. The pale, bright moonlight streams through the huge picture windows at the end of the hallways, and you keep track of the turns you're making as to not get lost. The floor doesn't even creak, despite the house looking so historically ancient; a mirror of their age, in some ways.

Once you've arrived at the grand staircase, you're confident that the huge double doors to the left at the end of the steps, is the kitchen. Or a dungeon. You'll know soon enough. You take a paranoid look behind you, into the hallway you've just come from and back down to the corridor, before making your descent.

It is a kitchen, in fact. You can tell even that much in the dim lighting, a huge high wooden table sat elegantly in the middle, lined with stools that look as though they swivel. In the corner you can make out the shape of a fridge.

You feel too lucky, giggling like a schoolgirl whos just found a jar full of candy in her teachers desk. It's a miracle you haven't been caught, but your thoughts are suddenly elsewhere when your fingers wrap around the handle of the refrigerator, victory seeping into your bones at last while you think of the ice cold glass of water you get to enjoy and-

"There's nothing in there that will suit your tastes, sweetheart."

The yelp you let out is loud and echoes in the obscenely large kitchen, your hand clamping over your mouth while the muscles in your body ache with the aftershock of your fright. You turn around only to make sure you haven't just been spoken to by a ghost, almost positive that no one was here when you entered.

Yuta sits casually, perched in a stool at the far end of the dining room table. His skin is like silk in the little light that gleams from outside into the room, and you find yourself frozen; despite the fact you so vehemently swear to yourself you're not afraid.

You see his head cock to the side, only his smile visible from where you're at, blinding and oddly menacing considering the context. "Don't be so shy, I won't bite." He coos, and you unthaw just a bit.

"I'm not shy, you just scared me." You speak quietly, slowly but surely moving towards the table, only a few seats away from where he's sat. Your answer seems to ruminate in his mind for a while, his lithe hands clasped together.

"What are you searching for, anyways? Hmm?" His tone is oddly soft, melodic like music traveling through the air. You answer him almost immediately, deciding to sit directly next to him in an effort to prove you're not intimidated. Even if it's a lie.

"I was just thirsty...for water." He chuckles and suddenly his features are clearer somehow, standing out against the onyx shadows. You can feel his eyes on you but you keep your head down, worried about slipping up.

"Certainly, after the night you've had," he's there one minute, in his seat and as still as stone, and then he's gone. Before you have a chance to gasp at the cool breeze that whips past you, a glass is sat in front of you, straw included. "It must be so easy for him to forget how much you little humans need for survival."

He's back in his seat and suddenly you feel naked, knowing that well, they probably heard, but forgetting that they aren't bashful about their thoughts. Yuta finds it fascinating, the way you're shrinking in your chair. You swallow.

"Why didn't you and the others go with them? Johnny and Jungwoo, I mean." You take a sip of your water, and then other, and soon half the glass is gone as the vampire next to you eyes you with his inquisitive gaze.

"I prefer less orthodox methods of satiating my hunger, blood banks are just too...diluted." You ignore the shiver that wracks through you, humming in response. He leans forward, further into the light, and you meet his wild eyes for the first time tonight.

"Your pulse is fluttering like butterflies in a jar," The corner of his plush mouth turns upwards, pearly whites on show. "are you sure you aren't scared?" His lilt is too imperceptible, and you're not able to tell if he's genuinely concerned or testing your ability to maintain composure under pressure. You steady your breathing.

"If I were scared, I would have run out the moment you spooked me in the dark like a madman." Your reply prompts a laugh to bubble from his throat and the sound is surprisingly gleeful this time, his normally menacing eyes forming into crescent moons.

"You are funny, aren't you? Tell me, then," he tilts his chin, raven hair falling against his cheek as he questions you. "why didn't you run?" His eyebrows furrow, and the genuine query takes you by surprise.

To be honest, you're not exactly sure how to answer. You aren't sure yourself, but you answer anyways. You're here, after all. Turning back around would be worth nothing.

"I don't really know. I think you're kind of...unexpected. I mean, I was told you guys aren't a lot different than him, than Johnny. But it's even more striking up close." You don't expect the truth to be so freeing or easy to say out loud once you've spoken, but you're oddly more at ease. The vampire is quiet for a moment.

"Striking? My my, you are perplexing. You're telling the truth too, so often your kind are deliberately... deceptive...how odd." He sounds as if he's talking amongst himself rather than to you, but his eyes still implore into yours.

"What do you mean? If you can tell whether or not some ones lying, then what use is it to lie?" You question, interest piqued. If his mischievous smile is anything to go by, he's willing to indulge you.

"Out of fear, lust, greed. Nothing unusual. It's only natural to tell someone exactly what it is they want to hear, especially when their teeth are against your throat."

Strangely, he doesn't sound as ferocious as the statement may make it seem. If anything, it's as if there's more than one meaning to what he's said, but you don't ruminate on it. You're not even sure how long this willingness to conversate will last.

"And vampires don't fear? Or lust, or covet." You're probably pushing it, but it's too fascinating not to. It's like being in a cage with a great white just inches away from you, as if it couldn't break through the barrier and eat you alive if it were hungry enough. The faux security blanket makes you feel invincible.

"Of course we do," his thumbs twirl casually, long black nails clanking together. "but you see, we are only living up to people's preconceived notions, aren't we? Volatile, bloodthirsty...why put on a show if you aren't going to finish it?"

You shake your head at the vampire, and he clicks his tongue. "That may be true, most of us do think that way. I don't think I ever really had an opinion, until I met Johnny. And even meeting you, of course you're all capable of horrible things but look at what humans do to others on a daily basis."

Silence follows, not awkward or tense, just the steady rise and fall of your breathing, his impenetrable irises examining you for a minute. You figure he's had enough of talking to you for tonight, and you press your heels to the floor in an effort to get up from your stool - but his cold hand is pressed against your chest before you can get move from your seat.

Your heart beats a total of two drums before you're suddenly pulled behind him, your brain trying to process what's just happened in such a short amount of time. He's almost crouched, nose in the air like a bloodhound while his hand reaches back behind him to keep you pressed against him.

"Yuta what-"

"Someone's....here."

A loud, intrusive cracking sound erupts through the kitchen, splinters of wood flying around the shield of Yutas lithe body while what seems to be violent hissing leaves the vampires throat. Your face is against his shoulder blades and you regret taking a peek to see what - or who - is growling like that in front of him - and panic fills your throat with bile.

The man is unfamiliar and you'd think he was a vampire if it weren't for how different he looks from the others - wild, crazed. His lips are pulled back in a snarl as Yuta shouts something at the creature in a foreign language, and your body shakes with tremors at the sight of the mans mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

Another blur bursts through the kitchens mangled doors, and then another, and another, and you don't know what else to do so you cling on to the back of Yutas silky shirt, unaware that the new visitors are some of the homes residents.

"Take her!" Yuta shouts, and your blood runs cold at the implication, the snarling still ripping from the creatures throats. You let go of him and prepare to run but you slam into something hard, nearly falling to the ground if cool hands didn't reach out and steady you by your shoulders.

You look up, and Jungwoos serene expression sends a wave of calmness through your bones, his voice soothing and steady despite the whirlwind happening around you both. Something made of glass breaks behind you.

"It's okay, I'm here to protect you but we have to go, now." You're pulled to his chest before you can object, getting just a small, nearly missable glimpse of the ugly creatures that Yuta and what seems to be Jaehyun - maybe Taeyong but you can't tell - are fighting off, and you suddenly realize just how scary vampires can really be.

It's like being in a car, a nice car that doesn't even jolt when it passes deep potholes in the asphalt. Except, of course, this theoretical car doesn't have doors or a windshield and you can hear - and feel - the wind whipping around you, whistling in your ears.

It's only a few more seconds, maybe even just a minute before his inhuman pace slows and you recognize the hum of an conditioner, the scent of alcohol and the padding of his shoes against a hardwood floor. He stops completely and your eyes are still shut tight, fingers clinging onto the front of him as though you might fall off the face of the earth if you let go.

"You're like a newborn deer, your legs are all wobbly." Jungwoo chuckles, amused and the sound of his voice breaks you from your fear induced reverie - eyelids peeling open to see where exactly it is that your boyfriends coven brother has taken you.

Violet and maroon lights glow around you, illuminating the place with a neon aura. It's a bar, from what you can tell, the stools and countertop and bottles of miscellaneous substances stacked on shelves behind it. It's pristine, you can see even that in such dim lighting.

"Why - what's going on? I don't underst-" Jungwoo shushes you with a finger to your lips, shaking his head as if to dismiss any of your worries before they come to a front.

"It's okay sweet pea, don't worry your pretty little head about it." You grit your teeth, but before you can offer any sort of rebuttle, the door to what you assume is the entrance you came in, swings open and a swarm of familiar faces fill the space around you, your eyes searching for Johnny in the midst.

He's not there, and your chest begins to ache badly with anxiety. This whole thing is confusing and bewildering and you're not sure what to make of it, especially when no one seems to be answering your questions, talking amongst themselves.

"It was a Lampir, a fucking Lampir." Yuta spits, chest heaving and eyes still black. Doyoung approaches him, arms crossed over his chest.

"We know why, the minute we get involved with a human those pests come to bother us." You see why the vampire had been so indifferent before.

"Hold on hold on, if it's a Lampir then it had to have been sent by Jongin. They wouldn't come to our home without orders." Taeyong reasons. You find a seat in one of the bar stools, lying your head down on the countertop.

"Definitely. Jongin is like, super old and stuff and you know how he can get - do you think he wants her?" Mark inquires too casually, your body alert now, and your need for Johnnys presence becoming unbearable.

As if your thoughts were as loud as your yearning, the door opens once again and a familiar head of raven hair is the first thing you see, messy and disheveled. You're on your feet and slamming yourself against him before your eyes even meet, and at once you're home.

You don't even realize you're crying until he's patting your head gently, then your back and down your arms while he cradles you against his chest, cooing in that warm velvet tone. "Shh, it's okay you're okay, I'm here. You're safe." He's reassuring himself, as well.

You sniffle, pulling away just a fraction of an inch to peer up at him, to confirm you're not going through panic induced hullicinations.

Warm, honey eyes stare back at you and you breathe a true sigh of relief, large hands cradling your face. Reflectively, the words leave your mouth.

"Who's Jongin?" While wiping a wet tear from tour cheek with the pad of his thumb, his expression sours, and you are suddenly fully aware that something bigger is happening, something that you've been left out on. he looks up at one of his brothers.

"That thing...he was definitely ordered." He holds you close and continues stroking your skin, the sound of his voice - even when laced with annoyance and anger soothing to your senses. A strange scent dances underneath your nose and it's only now you realize his shirt is stained with something black, like tar.

You remove your head from his chest to examine the front of his garment, wondering how you hadn't noticed it before. It's in this brief moment that you realize they've all gone completely silent, faces contorting as if they're speaking but their mouths are closed - eyes shifting back and forth from one another.

You back up a fraction of an inch, enough to capture Johnny's attention and his brothers alike, your eyebrows furrowing accusingly. They're hiding something. Your skin feels itchy.

"What are you all doing?" You glance from Jaehyun, who's dimples are on show as he holds back a laugh - to Jungwoo who looks as though he'd be flushing in shame if we able - and then to your boyfriend, who couldn't hide his feelings or emotions even if he tried.

He takes a step towards you, preparing to open his mouth but Doyoung steps in front of him, pressing a hand to Johnny's chest. "Don't. She knows enough about us." His tone is bitter, filled with resentment and your stomach lurches uncomfortably, your boyfriends fingers wrapping around his brothers wrist and flinging his hand off of him in an instant. His eyes are suddenly furious, and again, you're missing something.

"Stop this at once, you're being childish. This involves her now whether we like it or not," Yuta steps in, expression so fierce you shrink yourself, his voice authorative. You're not sure anyone could defy him even if they tried, goosebumps erupting along your skin.

"are you prepared to take care of the situation yourself? To betray your brother and harm his human mate? Or perhaps you'd like to hand her to Jongin with your own hands?" The fury in Yutas voice is unmissable, everyone standing as still as statues as he locks eyes with Doyoung. Your gasp from his statement isn't even heard.

How the fuck did this happen?

Doyoung swallows, lips turned downwards into a rueful scowl, backing away from Johnny and his elder. He sounds apologetic when he speaks, but you know it's for his sake and now yours.

"Of course not, I just think this is all a bit ridiculous. We haven't had trouble with Lampir's for years."

"Do they really make that weird screeching sound when you rip their heart out?" Mark quips at Johnny enthusiastically. You feel dizzy, steadying yourself against the bar, desperate to feel the cool marble against your hot skin. Everything is becoming too hard to comprehend.

"Hey hey, look at me." Johnny is by your side, examining you with featherlight touches. He pulls your gaze up by your chin, and you can't force yourself to give him reassurance with a smile, not even a glimmer.

"You h-had to...to kill it. Your shirt, it's all messed up." You stutter.

"Hell yeah he did, it was awesome - nasty too, fresh Lampir blood reeks." Jaehyun and Mark high five. You hear a faint, hushed 'Shut the fuck up!' from Jungwoo.

"Yes, I did kill it. It - well it wanted you. That's why it was there," he looks pained, walking you to a nearby booth and sitting you down, slipping in beside you. "Jongin is a true elder, he's over a thousand years old and Lampirs aren't like us. They're driven only by hunger and greed, they possess almost no humanity." He explains. Taeyong finds a seat across from you, taking over.

"You see, because of Jongins age, these creatures believe that he is their leader. They're feral, and we believe that he somehow got word of you...and Johnny. Someone must have seen you come over tonight and reported back to him that a human is being shared by a coven." You tremble against Johnny’s sturdy frame, Yuta moving in beside Taeyong.

"If you think we are selfish and vile, you've seen nothing yet, little bird," the eldest of the coven inquires. "If we are correct, he wanted that Lampir to take you to him. He probably even promised it would get to taste you, if the task was completed. He'll know one of his little soldiers were slaughtered, it won't be long now."

Your eyes are already wide and welling with panic, jaw slack. You're not sure what to do with the fresh wave of tension that forms an uncomfortable knot in your belly, Johnny's arms holding you steady as if it'll stop the tremors.

"W-what do you mean? Is he coming here?" You look to the vampire holding you and his sorrowful, agonized expression only confirms your fears. You just want to sleep.

"Yes. He is. We can...feel it." Gears start to shift in your head.

"And that thing earlier, all of you going silent like that...?" You question, lilt more aggressive than you intend for it to be. Jungwoo bounds over, and as always, smiles as if not a thing in the world could tear it from his bouyant face.

"We can communicate through our minds, because we've been together for so long. And since Jongin is an elder, it's like a premonition of sorts - but it's also kind of a given, considering you did rip out that things heart." He sighs at Johnny, and you rest your head against his shoulder, too tired and overwhelmed by tonight's turn of events to ask anymore questions, to deal with the flurry of feelings that are rippling through you.

"You don't have to worry, you are safe. We know how to handle the situation, alright?" Your eyes stay close, head nodding. "Just, one thing," his octave lowers and you can sense the importance of whatever he's about to tell you, looking up at him through tired eyes.

"If he speaks to you, and only if he speaks to you, call him Kai. He won't take too kindly to a human using his formal name." Your skin crawls further, not only at the situation but also at the fact that such a pompous prick is doing this to you, seemingly for nothing. Despite your disgruntled expression, you nod in affirmation.

"He's close." It's Doyoung, facing the door, slender body rigid. You stiffen in your seat and Johnny leans down to kiss the crown of your head, the only reason you're not having a full mental breakdown in the middle of such a situation.

"What should I do? Should we stand?" You whisper urgently, having no need to be so quiet but scared to raise your voice any louder, as if the vampire on his way may hear you and it'll entice him all the more. Johnny shakes his head.

"It's best to to remain neutral, casual. Even though he already knows we know he's coming." he remarks, worried eyes giving you a once over that has another round of questions at the tip of your tongue. Jaehyun snorts at this, following mark to the booth behind you both.

"Yeah, she does look like a treat doesn't she," he says it in a reflective sort of way rather than crass. This still doesn't help your nerves, or the sudden feeling of being naked. "If he doesn't already know she's involved with you, her scent will definitely give it away. She'd have his mouth watering from a mile away-"

A harsh smack lands to the back of Jaehyuns head and he winces in faux pain, rubbing his burning scalp. Jungwoo curses him, muttering something in that same language that you don't understand, what looks so be a scold.

Knock knock knock.

The sound has you cold, still in your seat while the door handle is twisted, from the other side, slowly and deliberately, as if to draw this uncomfortable moment out even longer.

"Not going to invite me in?" The voice is musical and chastising, feigning offense. The door is then pulled open and a figure waltzes through the threshold, elegant and poised with his hands behind his back. His clothing is the first thing you notice, ostentatious and regal, purposely.

"Pardon our lack of hospitality, we unfortunately had to kill one of your pets." Yuta stands, and leisurely strolls towards the bronze, man and you realize that Yuta must be the only one old enough to address him so informally. The others stay put.

"Hmm....what a pity, I must say. I see your plaything is here," His dark eyes flit towards you like a snake, and his gaze is something you can't avoid. It's not like the others, this time it's like a magnetized force, and your body feels as if it's been pumped with morphine, though you're still very much conscious and aware. "come, I'd like to get a good look at you."

"Please, don't do that." Johnny growls, and the beautiful man chuckles, a lively sound that matches his youthful exterior, the malice hidden underneath such a pleasant mask.

"She hasn't been tainted with your blood, I see. Her mind is still susceptible...how very intriguing." The vampire tilts his head curiously, tapping his foot impatiently. "must I ask again?" The tension is only adding to his fascination and he breaks eye contact to glance at Yuta, enough time for you to squeeze Johnny's hand and give him a reassured nod.

It won't do anyone any good to sit here and defy the man anyways, and you aren't as scared as you should be, as always. Whatever happens, happens. Though you're confident that it won't be without a fight from the six other vampires in the room. Maybe minus Doyoung.

Johnny looks even more agonized than before, reluctantly slipping from the booth, hand still in yours as he allows you to walk towards Jongin. Kai. Call him Kai. Only if he speaks to you. Your boyfriends word repeats like a mantra as the excitment rolls off of Kai in rivulets.

Once in front of him he stares at Johnny's hand in yours, and the touch is abruptly gone, arm swinging lonesome by your side. Kai is tall, and his energy is as captivating as it is terrifying, in many ways. Knowing he sent that creature than almost attacked you earlier...

The breath leaves your lungs as the vampires smooth, golden face appears in front of your face in just one blink of your eyes, before he moves it to the side of your neck - hovering his nose over your throat.

Your pulse is hammering but there's nothing you can do about it, even as he takes a deep and dramatic inhale before blowing cold air against your skin. He hums, a content sound.

"It's so strange...surely if you're associating yourself with seven vampires you'd be at least a little marked up," he stands to his full stature, supple hand reaching out as he extends his index finger and traces the apple of your cheek. You remain outwardly calm, steady.

"But you are just as perfect as a rose petal, aren't you? And you only smell of that tall one." The gears shift in his head and something in his irises flickers, as he glances towards Johnny, sending shivers down your spine. The whole room senses it, you can even tell and you aren't immortal. Kai's stare feels as though it might burn right through you, but Yuta's velvet voice distinguishes the burn.

"She's marked, they're just not visible. We haven't all had the chance to mark her yet, I'm sure you know how those bonds can take some time."

Your thundering heartbeat pauses for just a fraction of a second, the absolute unequivocal tone in his voice giving you whiplash. Kai's neat, dark eyebrows raise, in what seems to be genuine surprise. Yuta steps closer, as does Johnny. A presence walks behind you as well but you aren't sure who it is just yet.

"Marked...you say? So this human..." Jongin smirks devilishly and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, soothed quickly by Yuta's touch against your nape. The presence behind you is Doyoung, you're also able to conclude, as his melodic voice is the next to speak.

"Ours. The human is ours." His tone is so factual, so unequivocal that for a moment you wonder where these acting skills even came from. Not even five minutes ago he was giving you the stare of death, now he presses himself closer to your back, Johnny on your side opposite to Yuta.

Jongin tongues his cheek, utterly fascinated. Something falls over the energy in the room and it's oddly safe, the old vampires shoulders slumping only slightly, eyes still lit with animation.

"She must melt in your mouth, to be so fawned over by seven immortals. Hmm...if only you weren't claimed, this sure put a damper on things," He pouts like a child, one hand perched underneath his chin whole the other arm wraps around his torso. He takes a step back and examines you, licking his gums.

"I surely would have had my Lampir take you to me instead of ripping you apart for himself. What an unfortunate set of circumstances." For the first time, you're genuinely disturbed by a vampire, and Yutas hand soothingly massages your skin, ever so slightly. The movement probably wouldn't be perceptible to others, if it weren't for the fact that the room is filled with supernatural creatures.

"This means that the meaning for your visit has been concluded? Has it not?" Johnny asks, jaw clenched and teeth gritting together. You can tell this is winding him up, that the tips of his ears would be red right about now if possible.

Jongin sighs dramatically, placing his hands on his hips while he gives you all a once over, smiling wickedly to himself. "For now, I'll leave you be. This whole ordeal has gotten me so thirsty...I'll enjoy my variety for now. You all enjoy your little bunny," he extends his hand towards you, stroking your cheek one last time. "hope you're all at least giving her a break between turns."

Your skin burns hot and he giggles, twiddling his fingers in goodbye as he turns his back, expression neutral before he disappears from the room. The front door swings idly in the wake of his dash.

You let out a breath, finally able to think somewhat clearly as the blood returns to your limbs. Johnny's arm is around your waist at once and you're suddenly so used to Yuta's touch that it feels odd when he lets his hand drop, lingering for only a moment. You bury your face in Johnny's chest, relieved, as sketchy as Jongins behavior might have been.

"I need a drink." Jungwoo muses, and the statement brings you somewhat back to current reality, though you refuse to move from Johnny's arms. Your voice is muffled against him.

"Where are we?" You hadn't had the chance to think if it previously, too busy like, fearing for your life and all.

"This is our place, you're looking at bartender number three baby," Jaehyun boasts, and you're amused by the way he's so proud of it, Mark rolling his eyes. You look up at your boyfriend, incredulous.

"You guys...own a bar? Why didn't you tell me?" You're past the point of being angry, stupidly perhaps but after tonight you've realized that a lot of things stay hidden for good reason, as irked as it makes you. You're somewhat grateful that things are coming to light later than never.

"Yeah, we do. We own a few actually, they're not normal bars, of course. This ones Umbra, Yuta's." He looks a bit shameful, as if expecting you to be angry, or even sad. Deep down, maybe you should be, but in reality, you and Johnny have been so caught up in each other this past year, you understand how things have ended up this way.

"Can vampires even get drunk?" You ponder, and Taeyong shares a fleeting, humorous look with Doyoung, who smiles for the first time since you've met him. He looks like a completely different person, like that.

"Dude, yeah they can. It's kind of a vampire set back, imbedded in our DNA by whatever created us - after drinking a certain amount of blood we can get fuuuucked up." Mark explains with exaggerated hand motions, and you can feel Johnny sigh. You wish he weren't so abstinent about telling you all of this.

"It's a lot more than that." Taeyong cuts in, though your yawn has Johnny suddenly cupping your cheek, his tone gentle and soft. "Hey, there's a bed upstairs. Or, I can take you home, I understand if-" you yawn again, slumping yourself against him. Exhaustion is beginning to weigh you down.

"Shhh, I'm fine now. Wanna go upstairs." Your eyes are already closed and his large hands are quick to scoop you from the back of your knees, pulling you into his arms. You wrap yourself around his neck, breath against his throat.

"She's staying here tonight," one minute you're hearing the chatter of the rest of his brothers around you, and the next, silence is all you are able to perceive other than the low timbre of a pair of voices.

"listen I don't know if the house is secure, I wouldn't put it past Jongin to pull something. I don't want to leave her but-" Johnny sounds conflicted, the urgency in his voice perceptible even through the haze of the first stages of sleep.

"I'll watch over her. Jungwoo will be with me, Doyoung and the youngest can get everything repaired, there's enough of a mess to clean."

Your back meets plushness, so soft you're curling against it on instinct pleased to be met with a fluffy comforter, thick and warm.

"Listen I...I want to say thankyou, for what you've done. I'm only saying this because I could feel what you were feeling, and I know that it was genuine," you almost wonder if you're dreaming. You feel like you're eavesdropping on a conversation you're not supposed to hear, despite the fact that they're speaking in front of you.

"I'm not the most thrilled that the first human you've been even remotely generous towards, is the one I love or course. But I can tell she's safe, and comfortable with you. And that's what matters." There's a silence for a second.

"I can't pretend that I'm a changed creature over night, but I will say that she is somewhat pleasant to be around." You'd smile if you weren't already half asleep, faintly aware of the soft stroke to the back of your arm. Johnny.

"I could feel...her, too, you know. It's more than just seeing, she's not scared around you as I thought she would be," you wish you could the sleep that's consuming you, because this part of the weird dreamy haze has you a bit embarrassed, perplexed, even.

"Just keep her safe. Whatever she wants, that's what goes. I'm sure she has a lot of questions, and I'll be back in the morning to answer them."

This time, you're down for the count, a scene already beginning to unfold in your mind, the onset of a vibrant dream. Somewhere in the back of of your mind, your conscious tries to make sense of the picture, of what exactly it means.

Surely, your mind is playing tricks on you.

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pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones.

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns.

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon.

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic.

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party.

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years.

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties.

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest.

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement.

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor.

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks.

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?”

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!”

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe.

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse.

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband.

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!”

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands.

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?”

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected.

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted.

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said.

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table.

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly.

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky.

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up.

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp.

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard.

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.”

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering.

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely.

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked.

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself.

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table.

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully.

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.”

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears.

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully.

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.”

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket.

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated.

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…”

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out.

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action.

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table.

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show.

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss.

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly.

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.”

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile.

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.”

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved.

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile.

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her.

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said.

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.”

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys.

“Hey Brain!”

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate.

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!”

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers.

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived.

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered.

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound.

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response.

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled.

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke.

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off.

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel.

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was.

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people.

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy.

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.”

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.”

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder.

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top.

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets.

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone.

“Some party, huh?”

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.”

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight.

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired.

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.”

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response.

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.”

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil.

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls.

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked.

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave.

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped.

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted.

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry.

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.”

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested.

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively.

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.”

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity.

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.”

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood.

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest.

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again.

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.”

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture.

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added.

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.”

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move.

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could.

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired.

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned.

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.”

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice.

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy.

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…”

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity.

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on.

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile.

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways.

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.”

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired.

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips.

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked.

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested.

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud.

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile.

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.”

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly.

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded.

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief.

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play.

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right.

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story.

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded.

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!”

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented.

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted.

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!”

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story.

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.”

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically.

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered.

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings.

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.”

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries.

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.”

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile.

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face.

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy.

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement.

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.”

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed.

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied.

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible.

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up.

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot.

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed.

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse.

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.”

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern.

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in.

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired.

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered.

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet.

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared.

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie.

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted.

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace.

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!”

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.”

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange.

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television.

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way.

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic.

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there.

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe.

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off.

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama.

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters.

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #yakko warner #pinky #wakko warner #dot warner #brinky #a!spoilers #christmas

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fawniewithorangejuice · 3 years

Text

Confessions, Coffee, Kisses - Part 2

"After you, my liege."

He bowed.

Whenever this happened, the white haired male got a little flustered, though he masked that with laughter.

"Ah, some Reserve Course Students might have some manners after all~"

Hinata snickered as he went in after Komaeda.

"And you're saying we are cocky."

Komaeda chuckled, and Hinata was never so happy by hearing it before.

He was really glad he could be a good friend to Komaeda, just helping him out in any situation.

Hinata never thought he was good at comforting people in general, but Komaeda always seemed to get calm just by his presence.

It was... flattering, to say the least.

And mutual. Hinata could always see things clearer when with the lucky boy, even if some obvious hints went unseen.

Hinata turned to Komaeda, and asked him what kind of coffee he wanted.

The Thanks a Latte café belonged to a small family, but that's exactly what Hinata loved about it. It was tiny, cozy, didn't have many customers - perfect for the introvert Hinata, and the quiet-loving Komaeda.

The sun was beginning to set, soon orange and pink colours painting the spring sky.

Komaeda looked as if he came from a fantasy world, with all this warm backlighting.

The sun shone on his rosy pink cheeks, accentuating his handsome features.

Hinata couldn't help but blush at the sight, and had to blink himself back to reality to hear Komaeda's actual answer.

"...as usual."

He saw the lucky student pause, tilting his head.

Which Hinata found adorable.

"Hinata-kun?"

Oh, the way he said his name. How much he loved hearing it from his mouth.

Hinata knew Komaeda was attractive. What he missed is putting two and two together; if he thinks Komaeda is attractive, then he is attracted to him.

While that could be platonic, it didn't feel platonic between them.

The way the white haired boy raised his eyebrows, his curious yet worried facial expressions... wait, worried?!

That's what got Hinata snapping back to the moment, and he bowed his head in an apology.

"It's nothing, s-sorry..."

Komaeda pouted.

"Why does he have to be so cute?"

"Hinata-kun, it's pretty rude to space out when someone's talking to you!"

Though a hint of worry was still present on Komaeda's face, it bothering Hinata.

"Hmpf, you probably didn't sleep enough tonight either, did you, now?"

Oookay, Hinata didn't expect that.

As usual, Komaeda just hit the bullseye, or at least a certain truth.

Hinata didn't really sleep, due to his schoolwork, and the amount of extra work he volunteered for.

He looked down, guilty.

"Komaeda, I... I told you I am sorry... I really didn't sleep much... but why does that matter?"

Komaeda just looked personally offended, crossing his arms, and leaning closer to Hinata... which seemed a little intimidating because of the slight height difference.

"K-Komaeda...?"

Hinata blushed at the short proximity between them, but he was also a little afraid.

"Hinata-kun! Why shouldn't it matter? How can you say something like that... your sleeping schedule matters because You matter."

He looked a bit betrayed, if I'm being honest.

Hinata felt awful, though quite flattered at the same time. Feelings sure are confusing, aren't they?

If anything, Komaeda just looked upset now, mixed with sadness. That might've been the reason he lowered his voice, and changed his posture.

"Hinata-kun, I care about you. Is it... really not obvious?"

The brunette nodded at his response.

"I-I know that... you're my closest friend, after all..."

The white haired boy gave him an unamused expression, and sighed.

"Guess I am... now, seemingly you not catching it before, I'll have a latte macchiato with vanilla flavour."

As Komaeda stepped back, Hinata could let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"The usual, huh~?"

Hinata teased good-heartedly.

"What else did you expect, it's the best one."

Komaeda declared with confidence.

"Mmm, sure sure. Then I'll order that too, see if it's really the best."

The lucky student narrowed his eyes at Hinata, his expression saying "are you testing me?"

Which the brunette responded to with a shrug and a "maybe~"

They sat down to their usual spot, in one of the corners.

Hinata really adored the aesthetic of the café; the walls were made out of wood, fairy lights hanged all over above them, with the wide windows and comfortable seats... if anything, it felt like a wooden cottage straight out from some fairytale.

After they placed their orders, Hinata couldn't help but gaze at the other boy in front of him. He looked so ethereal, backlit by the setting sun...

Komaeda was no different, once he locked gazes with Hinata, he just couldn't look away. Not that he wanted to.

The two only came back to their senses when the waitress arrived, and handed them their coffee. They both bowed and thanked her, and Hinata awkwardly put some sugar in his.

"We legitimately just stared at each other for at least 4 minutes... friends don't do such, right? Not this way, at least..."

Hinata was slowly piecing things together.

Komaeda, on the other hand was really flustered, he just locked gazes with his friend and crush.

After taking a sip of his coffee and thinking over if he should really try this -he broke the silence.

"Hinata-kun."

The brunette looked at him curiously, tilting his head like a puppy.

"Hmm?"

Komaeda blushed. This is it. He just have to play his cards well.

It was a part of his act, so he looked to the side, embarrassed.

"I hate to ruin the mood like this, but I have to be honest with you."

Hinata's heart skipped a beat.

"You wouldn't ruin anything... so go on?"

After a dramatic sigh and a pause, Komaeda looked at him with sad eyes.

"I lost my keys somewhere in the academy... s-so I ugh..."

He blushed.

"I c-can't sleep in my room tonight."

Hinata was sort of disappointed. That was not what he wanted to hear.

"Wait, why was I expecting him to-"

"So... I-I wouldn't want to be rude or anything, I-I know better than anyone else that I am ultimately worthless, b-but I was hoping... maybe! B-because we're like... friends... and all that w-we could... maybe... uhm..."

Hinata smiled at the flustered behaviour of Komaeda, and decided to have mercy on the poor guy.

"You want to have a sleepover?"

Komaeda gave him a cautious nod.

"I-if that wouldn't be t-too much to ask for..."

Now, Komaeda was sly, he had a plan to show Hinata his feelings towards him, but he didn't "act" nearly as much as he thought he would.

He did plan some of this out, such as the lie about his keys - he'll still have to drop those in a nearby bush as they head to Hinata's place - but he certainly was not acting his flustered state.

The brunette gave him a reassuring smile.

"Of course I wouldn't mind."

He chuckled.

"You act like you've never been to my place before. It's kind of cute."

That last sentence kind of worked his way out on his own, Hinata didn't mean to say it, but nor did he regret it.

To mask that, he drank some of his coffee.

On the other hand, Komaeda was blushing hard.

"D-did he just indirectly call me cute-?"

Hinata did his best to keep his calm demeanor, though seeing a flustered Komaeda was strangely enjoyable.

He took another sip of his coffee, declaring that it indeed was good; he still preferred cappuccino.

As the sun fell under then horizon, both boys were finished with their coffees.

Hinata argued with Komaeda, because it was "his turn to pay", but the other argued back at him.

Puffing his cheeks, the white haired boy scoffed.

"Hinata-kun did so many nice things to me today, let me repay you!"

"Komaeda, I didn't do this because I am nice, I did it because you're my friend."

"You're my friend too, aren't you? So why wouldn't you let me pay, Hinata-kun?"

The brunette sighed. Technically, Komaeda had way more money than he did, and he knew sooner or later Komaeda is going to use that dirty card...

"Y-yes, I am your friend, but why are you getting so worked up about money- It's just money!"

Hinata didn't understand at all.

The lucky student took the initiative, and got them enough money so he could pay for both.

The shorter male didn't approve.

"K-Komaeda, what are you doing?! I didn't agr-"

He got a death stare.

And a grin.

"Hinata-kun would never agree to me paying for him. I just had to be faster."

The way Komaeda said that last word sent shivers down on Hinata's spine.

...which he got weirded out by pretty quickly.

"W-what kind of reaction was that-"

"But K-Komaeda... I offered to buy you a coffee first."

The brunette said it in a whine-y and disappointed tone.

"I know, but it's alright, Hinata-kun. This is my expression of gratitude."

When the white haired boy gave Hinata that smile, he couldn't argue anymore.

After our protagonist gave in, and made peace with the fact that even though it was his turn, Komaeda paid for his coffee, the journey to his apartment was tranquil. The taller boy did make sure to drop his key in a nearby bush, just so his luck wouldn't get him found out.

"Hinata-kun."

Hinata turned to the other male as he heard his name.

"Hmm?"

"Won't I be a bother?"

#komahina #hinakoma #sdr2 #hinata hajime #komaeda nagito #hinata x komaeda #fluff #part two #how do i keep forgetting tags #friends to lovers #reserve course #main course #hope's peak academy #my writing

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Dear Santa

Have a Christmas oneshot!

Summary: You just want Brain to have a Merry Christmas. He deserves this.

FFN Link

Your words aren’t coming out properly. You can only stutter and cry and hope that’s it not too late to catch Santa Claus during his annual trip around the world. You plan to apologize to the big guy for not delivering the letter in time, and maybe, just maybe, your dearest wish will come true.

Brain trembles with anger as he slaps the letter out of your hands. There isn’t much time left. The machine has to be fixed. The plan has to be completed. Brain is on the road to victory, and you mustn’t spoil this for him.

Despite the December chill, Brain’s fur is slick with sweat and flushed red with outrage because you can only stand there uselessly. But you can’t bring yourself to do anything except clutch your letter to your body and hope Santa slides down the chimney (even if you don’t have one) so you can show him the letter.

The machine sparks to life as Brain rushes around and turns dials and pulls levers without any kind of pattern you can make out.

“Now, Pinky! Man your station at the switch!” Brain quickly orders before returning to his machine. He barely looks at you.

Your tears fall faster, and you try not to get them on the paper. You don’t want your words to be smudged. Your throat is tight, and you try to get across how important this letter is, but you can only repeat yourself over and over, and Brain isn’t having any of it.

“Give me that stupid letter!” Brain snaps. He snatches the letter out of your hands, then shoves you across the counter until you’re in front of a switch and a colored meter. “Now throw the switch when the meter hits red!”

The plan must always come first, you remind yourself.

You clutch the switch with both hands and watch the meter. The green blends with orange and yellow and red in a watercolor mess, but you see the black line steadily work its way to the red as the machine powers up. You focus on that line. You don’t let go of the switch, not even to wipe your tears away.

You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and sniffling though. You can’t mess up this plan. Brain worked so hard to get this machine set up. He deserves this victory. He deserves to be ruler of the world.

Your letter isn’t important. The machine is all that matters. Electricity sparks and jumps all around you, but you pay it no mind.

Then you hear a rustle of paper.

“Dear Santa, hello haha narf,” Brain reads flatly. You feel his disdainful glare on your back, and your fingers tighten around the switch. “This year Santa, I ask for nothing, but I wish to tell you about my dear friend…“

“…the Brain.”

His voice falters as he reads his own name.

Should…should you have not left it as a Christmas surprise? You had several chances to leave your letter with Santa and his elves at the North Pole! Stupid! Why didn’t you take the opportunity when you had it?

The meter reaches the halfway mark. The whimpers are fast and many, and your tears threaten to spill over. Your vision is clouded with them, but you can’t let them fall. Not now. Not when Brain is so close to victory.

“He’s honest and very hard working.”

Brain’s voice is carefully neutral. But you can’t take your eyes off the meter for a second, not even to see his expression. Did you say something wrong? But it was the truth. You’ve seen how Brain plans and plots and pencils his smart ideas onto paper. You love it when he tells people he’s a genetically altered lab mouse seeking world domination, because that’s the truth.

Did Brain not believe that himself? But he’s smarter than you. So he should know that, at the very least.

“And only wants what’s best for the world.”

You know he’d do a wonderful job ruling the world, if only he was given the chance. There’s a lot of things, both beautiful and not so beautiful about Earth. Brain would have the power to preserve everything nice and reshape the not so nice things.

“But he gets no reward. He’s only greeted with defeat. He never gives up, but I know it must be very hard.”

Sometimes it’s you. Sometimes it’s Brain. Sometimes it’s neither of you and the plan fails anyway. You’ve watched him fail, brush it off, and try again.

And try. And try. And try.

You and Brain move onto the next plan. You don’t dwell on the failure. But sometimes…Brain thinks about the failures, the almost-victories, the never-had-a-chance-to-succeeds. They pile up over time.

And he gets sad.

You try to make sure he knows you’re always here for him. That you can take the failures weighing him down and carry them yourself.

Because you care about him. Isn’t that reason enough?

“So please…take anything that you had for me and give it to my best friend in the whole world…the Brain.”

You don’t know what Santa planned to give you for Christmas, if you were on the nice list that is. You’re pretty sure you are though. Unless forgetting your extremely important letter was enough to land on the naughty list?

You don’t remember if you did anything bad over the past year. You’re sure you must’ve done some wrong things, but you just can’t recall them now. Your mind is completely blank, and not in the usual way Brain says it is either.

But…Brain deserves something nice. It doesn’t matter what present Santa had planned out, as long as it made Brain happy.

That’s all you want in the end.

Brain deserves to be happy.

You can’t even give him that, and the tears suddenly rush out. You wipe them away quickly.

“Love, Pinky. PS: By any chance, do you have in that big old bag of yours…the world?”

Brain’s voice breaks. His breath hitches.

The meter hits red, and you push down on the switch. Your task is complete. Now it’s Brain’s crowning moment.

“You’re on!” you shout.

The machine is fully powered now. All across the world, Noodle Noggin dolls are sitting under Christmas trees or in their new owner’s arms, ready to announce Brain’s claim on Earth.

Brain doesn’t respond. Your letter is limp in one hand, the other clutching a piece of machinery. His pink eyes are wide and tearful and staring off into the distance. His ears hang loosely, quivering with every slight movement. His fur is damp with tears.

“You’re on, Brain!” you call again.

This is it. This is the day Brain’s greatest dream came true.

Brain looks at you. He doesn’t look like he knows what to say. He’s completely speechless.

You point to the meter to remind him of the plan. You did what he told you. It’s his turn now.

Brain rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath, flipping a switch on a board next to him.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the world,” Brain says softly into the microphone. He tries to take a commanding tone, but it isn’t coming out right. “You will do as I say. For I…I command you…command you to…”

He stammers and trails off, another crying spell threatening to take hold. He clutches at his chest, like the words are stuck in his heart and they refuse to come out.

He’s still watching you, so you smile through your tears and motion for him to continue.

Soon he’ll say ‘I command you to hail me, the Brain, as your new leader’. He’ll finally be happy.

Brain’s mouth trembles. His chest heaves. He doesn’t know what to do with his paws.

He takes a moment to try and suppress the sobs, but he shouts into the microphone for all the world to hear instead.

“Have a Merry Christmas, everyone! Have a Merry, Merry Christmas! Joy to the world! Yes!”

He doesn’t try to hold back his sobs anymore. You don’t know if they’re happy or sad or remorseful, but he continues to cry his heart out as he shuts off the machine.

Brain’s flood of emotion gets the better of him and he takes it out on the machinery, ripping apart every switch, bulb, and wire he can find.

He didn’t take his chance to be ruler of the world. You realize this is his way of saying how much he cares. Brain’s good with smart words, but not heart words. The heart words have to express themselves somehow, even if it involves ripping apart the invention that would’ve helped Brain take the throne.

Between his screams and random destruction of metal, you hear many things.

I’m sorry for making you cry, Pinky. Thank you for your kind words even if I don’t deserve them, Pinky. You just want me and everyone in the world to be happy, right? I’ll share your Christmas wish with everyone, Pinky. I’m glad I know you.

You walk over to Brain while he’s dizzy and delirious from the emotional rush. He smiles up at you and faints.

You smile back and gently carry him back to the cage. He’s rather floppy.

“I’m glad I know you too, Brain,” you say.

The tiny smile stays on his face.

o-o-o-o-o

Brain gives you a spellchecker. It has a lot of buttons for clacking and clinking, and you adore it to pieces.

Then he unwraps your gift. He holds the tiny world up by the chain. He watches it for a moment, then smiles at you again. It’s so nice to see him smile. You wish this moment would last forever.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain says. The gratitude is clear as day. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Brain,” you reply as you hug him. The keychain in his hand clinks against your side. Brain doesn’t really know what to do in your arms, but he doesn’t break your embrace either.

Joy to the world! You can’t help but sing.

Brain rolls his eyes, but he lets you express your festive cheer anyway.

You have Brain. And all was right with the world.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction

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vicegrips-fr · 3 years

Photo

Pink Martinis

The night is only just beginning and the boys are trying to enjoy themselves before the evening rush when they are rudely interrupted by a man neither of them knows.

--------------------------------------------

This is the first in what I hope to be many lore posts featuring characters from both The Velvet Fang and Neo Necropolis. Apologies if this is too long for some of you and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Language, drug mentions, alcohol, brief violence, etc.

---------------------------------------------

- Part one -

It’s all about the thrill.

Neon lights, the smell of sweat and spilled alcohol, bodies grinding together to the sound of loud music, drugs passing between hands, and men being led to back rooms. All of these things are thrilling in their own way, but none of it comes close to the rush you get from spilling a little blood. Your blood, their blood, it’s all part of the game and the game is violence; pure and simple violence. Azizi used to live a life of violence. That is, until he came here to the middle of bumfuck nowhere in the Wasteland. He- no, they had no choice. It was run or be killed and there’s no doubt in his mind that Chaka would have delighted in choking the life out of him.

The thought of it, those strong hands around his throat, both disgusts and entices him.

It’s almost like you have a deathwish.

“Hey Zi!”

Azizi turns his head to the source of the sweet and familiar voice, a smile playing about his lips as he moves over from where he’s leaned back against the bar. As per usual Gogo is dressed all in neon and animal print, the colors and patterns clashing in such a way that it both draws your eyes in and repels you for fear of going blind. “Hey babe,” he replies languidly, “You look good.” At that Gogo gives a twirl, his thick wavy hair bouncing around his shoulders. “Not as good as you,” he shoots back with a girlish giggle, “But like, thanks!” Smiling, Azizi turns his attention onto the bartender, his face illuminated in the pinks, purples, and blues of the neon lights dancing all around them. “Two pink martinis, Cyr” he drawls, elbows propped up on the bar as he leans over it seductively. Cyril is a frightening man to behold. Equal parts handsome and haunting with bright pink eyes all over his body. Or, well, one can assume so anyway. Of the many eyes that cover him only the ones on his face, neck, and tail are visible; the rest are hidden beneath his smart clothing. “Sure thing,” he replies, voice lightly accented from the Starfall Isles, “Just don’t snort anything off the bar while my back is turned. I just cleaned the damn thing.” Azizi throws his head back and laughs, the gold bangles on his arms clinking together lightly as he stands up straight. “No promises, eyes,” he purrs softly, “Me and self control aren’t friends. And besides, you clean ‘the damn thing’ every two seconds.” Cyril rolls his eyes, all of them. “Addict,” he replies not unkindly. “Neat freak,” Azizi says without malice.

They’re both right about the other. Azizi is an addict and Cyril is an obsessive cleaner. In the end habits are habits, it’s just that some come with worse consequences than others. “Mm, pink martini,” Gogo coos, mind occupied by other things, “I wonder how they like, make it pink in the first place.” Azizi quirks a brow, a look of amusement crossing over his face. “World’s greatest mystery,” he replies fondly, “So, how many tricks are banging on your door tonight?” Pausing, Gogo counts on his fingers with his tongue between his teeth. “Three too many,” he answers finally, “But like, it’s cool. At least with the regulars who book in advance you know what to expect.” Another pause. One, two, three, four seconds pass. “Although there was that one time that a regular asked me to-” “Two pink martinis,” Cyril interrupts, sliding the pretty pink concoctions in front of the boys. “Thanks Cyr,” Azizi grins, “And hey, for the record I was a good boy and kept my snow off of your bar. Do I win a prize?” Cyril snorts at that, waving a dismissive hand in his direction as if to shoo him away like a pesky cat. “How about my gratitude?” he replies breezily. “Ew, gross,” Azizi murmurs, “That’s a shitty prize.” With an impish smile he tilts his drink just enough to splash the bar with the liquid inside. “Oops,” he says, tone sharp and teasing, “My bad.” Cyril, who is busying his hands cleaning a glass that’s already spotless, frowns. He’s used to this sort of thing by now; used to how Azizi likes to push people's buttons; used to how the man enjoys getting into fights and starting shit. But Cyril never takes the bait and Azizi doesn’t expect him to anyway- he’s just being a little shit. “Asshole,” Cyril chuckles, mopping the alcohol off the bar until it shines like a diamond again. Azizi shrugs, popping the cherry from his drink into his mouth. “And yet you still love me,” he sighs wistfully, “Some might even say you’re a glutton for punishment.” Before any of them can continue their conversation, a man approaches the bar with a look on his face that promises trouble. He’s of average height with a slim build and dressed in a suit that screams this is the nicest thing in my closet. The only truly unusual thing about him is his eyes, cyan blue. It’s unusual because most of the clientele in The Velvet Fang are from around the area, their eyes various shades of threatening reds. “You two,” the strange man says, so close now that Azizi can smell the sweat beneath the cologne he’s used to try and cover it up. “I’m sorry but do I know you?” Azizi asks, nose wrinkling in disgust as he takes a step back just to get a breath of air that doesn’t make him gag. Gogo’s mismatched eyes grow wide and he follows suit, taking a step backwards and bumping into one of the barstools, sending it clattering to the floor. Neither one of them recognize this man, but it would seem he recognizes them. “Yes- Uh, I mean no,” he stutters out, the wild look in his eyes on full display in the light of the neon sign that hangs above the bar, “You’re Chaka’s boys, aren’t you? I’d recognize the two of you anywhere and-” He pauses, the expression on his face shifting from slightly wild to confused in the blink of an eye. “Say,” he continues, brow furrowing, “What the hell are you two doing all the way out here, huh?” Anger seeps into every one of Azizi’s pores. Perhaps he should be frightened, shaken up from being recognized by someone from the home he was forced to flee, but all he can manage is anger. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snaps, gold canine catching the light as his lips peel back into a snarl. “You think you can just waltz up to us and start asking questions?” The man’s lips part again but before he can say a word Azizi holds up a hand to stop him, eyes hard. “Fuck. Off,” he snarls, the threat of violence clear in his voice, “It’s none of your fucking business why we’re here. Get lost, asshole.” Gogo lets out a whimper, hands flying up to cover his mouth. Violence is not something he likes or handles well. The sight of blood is enough to make his stomach feel queasy, the sound of bones breaking so horrific it makes him want to pass out, so all he can hope is that it doesn’t come to that. Annoyed, Azizi turns away to go back to his drink but is stopped by a hand lashing out to grab him by the wrist, forcing him to spin around again. Whoever this man is, he’s clearly on something and he’s got a lot of nerve. “Don’t speak to me like that,” the stranger growls, his grip tightening until he knows that there will be bruises left behind in the shape of fingers, “You think someone like you can say that shit to someone like-” Crack. Without hesitation Azizi drives his right fist so hard into the man’s face that the bones breaking in his nose can be heard over the music. To the shock and horror of the people around them the man falls to the floor in a heap. Gogo’s eyes immediately go to where his best friend is holding his injured hand, tail lashing anxiously behind him as he lurches forward to his side. It’s a miracle he doesn’t faint, but it’s different when it’s Azizi who’s the one that’s hurt.

“Oh my god! Azizi!” he cries, gently taking Azizi’s hand in his own and turning around to examine the damage, “Are you like, okay? Holy shit!”

Looking down at his right hand Azizi can see where the knuckles are already beginning to swell and bruise. The bad news is that it hurts, the good news is his hand doesn’t appear to be broken. Good for him and for the tricks; such is the nature of his work.

“I’m fine, babe,” he replies to Gogo, eyeing the man on the ground like he might have to go in for round two, “Just some bruises, that’s all.”

Thinking quickly, Cyril grabs ice from behind the bar and rushes over to help the pair. If that asshole wants to try something else- and, frankly, he’s high enough that he might- then he’ll be there to put all six feet of himself between them. Finally the injured man does stand, wobbling back and forth uneasily on his feet before locking rage filled eyes with Azizi.

“You’re gonna fucking regret that,” he grunts, “Just wait until Chaka hears what you whores have been up to. Just you fucking wait-”

“Out!” Cyril barks, “Out before I call in the big guns and have you hauled out of here by your hair!”

Grateful, Gogo mouths a thank you to Cyril before going back to fretting over his Azizi. He’s no medic but the bruising looks severe to him, so he holds the ice against the wounds in a desperate attempt to stop it from getting worse. Really he should be used to this, used to the threat of violence and the fear. How many fights has he seen Azizi gets into, heart pounding in his ears as he watches in abject horror, powerless to help or to stop it? The answer is far too many times.

“As if Chaka would give you the time of day,” Azizi sneers, “Do your worst.”

But the truth is he is worried, if only just a little bit. If word gets back to Chaka that he’s here then-

You belong to me, Zi. Do you know what that means? It means you’re never going anywhere I don’t want you to go. You try that shit and watch what happens. It’s not just your ass on the line, is it?

Still the threat of violence, a little blood spilled... it’s thrilling, right? He feels alive, like waking up after a long nap.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, “Fuck.”

To be continued...

#flight rising lore #flight rising #flightrising #lore: the velvet fang #sorry if i missed something in the warnings!#still trying to get back into the groove of writing and posting lore on here

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markszone · 4 years

Text

Don’t Need a Lucky Charm

GIF from nakamotens

Summary: Supporting Mark's first boxing match

Pairing: boxer!Mark x female reader

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.8K

( A/n: couldn’t get this boxer Mark out of my head... enjoy!!❤️)

You and Mark were laying on the couch watching a show to pass time.

“I’m so excited for tonight,” you said, turning around to face your lover.

“I’m nervous,” Mark admitted.

You ran a hand through his smooth brown hair, your hand parting through the soft strands. He was going to his first boxing match after months of training, he has every right to be nervous.

"Win or lose. You'll always be a winner in my eyes," you comforted him.

His arms tightened around your waist. "There's no bigger catch than you, baby." he said with a wink after.

You smiled, feeling all the butterflies erupt, and kissed him.

You turn to look at the clock. "Aren't you supposed to be training?"

"Nah, I don't want to wear myself out," he explained.

He stood up letting go of you and straightened his clothes, he held a hand out to you and you looked at him puzzled.

"I thought you weren't gonna train?" you asked.

"I'm not," he replied "C'mon, let's go to the nearest beach while we still have time."

"Okay," you replied, taking his hand and straightening your clothes as well.

He grabbed the keys while you grabbed a bunch of chips to munch on the way.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yep, c'mon," you replied.

-----

It wasn't a long drive to the beach, you reached there within a few minutes, you stepped outside the salty breeze clouding the air. You loved the beach even though you drove by it plenty of times.

Mark walked around the car and grabbed your hand making a smile light up your face. His fingers laced through yours holding you tightly. He brought your hand to his mouth, his lips brushing your knuckles.

"Can we switch hands?" you asked, you still wanted to eat the potato chips while you walked. He released your hand, and you walked around quickly grabbing his other hand.

He was holding the chips packet with his spare hand while you fed him and yourself with your other hand.

"Summer is coming around, you have any plans?" he asked.

"Maybe just lounge around and just spend time reading," you said, which was exactly what you did every summer.

"I think we should go on a road trip," he suggested.

"I thought we were gonna do that during spring?" you question him.

"I thought about it but I think it's better if I work during spring, save up, and then we go on a road trip for two months," he explained "That means we get to spend more time with each other."

"I like the sound of that," you said.

Mark sat down on the sand and pulled you down on his lap, his arms embracing your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder while you rested your head on the side of his. Watching the waves crash the shore feeling utterly at peace in his arms and near the beach.

"Wouldn't it be cool if a shark washed up on shore?" he asked enthusiastically.

"More terrifying than cool, bub," you muttered.

"You could watch me kill it in order to protect you," he said his arms tightening around you "Would you be impressed, my lady?"

"Considering it would already be dead due to lack of water. I'm pretty sure I could kill it too." you chuckled.

"I suppose this is the downfall of dating someone ten times smarter than you," he sighed.

You faced him and gave him a peck on the cheek. Mark blushing immediately as soon as your lips left his cheek. You smiled at your boyfriend, admiring his boyish smile and red cheeks.

You traced your hand on his jaw wondering just how lucky you were to be with the single most amazing person in the world. You lost track of how long both of you sat there in silence, comfortable silence. The kind that you could only share with certain people and yours was Mark.

"It's so beautiful," you breathe, staring at the sun setting in the distance. The flickers of orange, pink and red mixed in a beautiful swirl illuminating the sky. It was breathtaking.

"You know what's beautiful? Watching you admire something which seems so dull in comparison to your beauty," he whispered softly.

You blushed hard, thinking you were hardly prettier than the sunset, but it was kind of him to say so. You looked down hiding your reddened cheeks.

"I wish you believed me," he said.

He looked at his watch before slowly bringing the both of you up.

"My match will start soon," he informed.

You could already feel the nerves kicking in at the statements so you wondered just how nervous he must feel.

-----

Mark paced around the locker room, his hair put up neatly to avoid the bangs on his face while fighting, and his strong chest on display. You could hear the sound of his name loudly echoing through the room.

"I have to go home. I forgot the dishes," he said suddenly.

He reached for his shirt just as you grabbed it. He looked up at you and just beneath his firm expression you could see the glints of fear.

"Mark you are going to do fine," you whispered, placing your hands on his shoulder.

"How do you know that?" You're not a psychic."

"I don't have to be. You are the strongest and most hardworking person I know and tonight you'll prove tha-"

Your words were cut off by his lips, his lips moved against yours hungrily as though he were saving a piece of you for the match. He pulled back his breath ragged. His forehead pressed against yours.

"I don't need a lucky charm. You are my strength Y/N," he said.

"Then go prove me right, Lee."

He pulled on a pair of blue gloves, and pounded his fists together. He gave you one last kiss on the forehead before he headed to the entrance.

"Next up is Lee," the announcer yelled.

He gave you a small wink before walking out into the crowded room, and stepping into the ring. The other boxer stood on the other side of the ring, he must have already entered before Mark's moment of doubt.

You moved to join the full crowd, elbows dug into painfully, shoulders pressed against yours. The more you tried to get to the front the more you were pushed back. You couldn't see anything mainly due to your height but also because you were too far back. How were you supposed to cheer for Mark if you couldn't even see him?

"Lee wants the girl in the blue shirt to be brought to the front," the announcer demanded.

"I'm over here," a girl wearing blue called.

"No he means me."

"Bring me front."

"My bra is blue. I can prove it."

"Mark baby I'm coming."

The room erupted in chaos with everyone claiming to be you. You halted in your spot feeling your protective instincts for Mark kick in, because every girl was struggling to move front towards him and every guy seemed to be irritated by this.

"Shut up," Mark said in an annoyed tone, through the announcer's microphone.

The room slowly grew silent.

"Much better," he murmured.

His voice softened. "Y/N, babe, where are you? Raise your hand please."

"I'm here," you said raising your hand.

"Good," he said "Now all of you please part like the Red Sea and let her come through."

They slowly moved aside providing you enough space to navigate to the front. You gave the people you were passing a small smile to show your gratitude, but they all seemed to be sporting matching expressions of irritation. You finally made it to the front of the ring glad to be closer to him.

"Let's begin," the announcer yelled.

The crowd resumed in their cheering, yelling 'Lee' repetitively and occasionally the name Jaehyun who must have been the opponent. You eyed this Jaehyun he was built, very built, Mark was almost as tall as him. It kinda scared you, but you believed in Mark.

The announcer went over the rules, explaining what determined a win and a loss. You listened intently paying attention to the rules much of which the crowd wanted to drown out in their cheers.

"Round One"

They circled each other like predators. It was Jaehyun who threw the first punch which Mark effectively dodged, retailing with a swift punch to the stomach. They did this a few times exchanging positions of defense and offense. At times it seemed like Mark had a third eye because of the way he dodged a majority of his hits.

The rounds came and went each time Mark got hurt it felt like a blow to your own chest, and each time he had the upper hand you felt like a proud soccer mom at one of her kid's games.

You couldn't help but notice that Mark was very talented, his punches were well aimed, his steps seemed measured, and just looking at the constant flicker of his eyes you could tell that he was aware of his surroundings. His behavior seemed to imitate that of an animal fighting for survival.

The last round of the match was nearing and Mark's face and chest was a burning red coated by sweat. Exhaustion didn't begin to cover the state of him at the moment.

"You can do this Mark!" you yelled "Take it home, baby!"

The round felt like a century with them both seemingly worn out.

"Mark, baby, put him down!"

Mark suddenly charged at Jaehyun, forgetting about holding his position, and continuing firing a punch after punch. I watched wide eyed as Jaehyun dropped to his knees and finally rested on his back. The referee blew his whistle, and soon after raised Mark's hand declaring him the winner.

His chest rose and fell as the crowd roared in delight and victory. He spit out his mouth guard grinning widely. Your heart clenched with joy as you watched him bask in his glory and heard the growing chant of his name begin. This was his moment.

In his moment Mark proudly smiled and when your eyes met, you swore you saw the galaxies in his eyes and you felt as if you're the luckiest person to have ever crossed paths with him. He made you so proud.

------

You waited for Mark to enter the locker room and once he did, you tackled him with a big hug not minding his sweaty body. Mark pulled away to cup your face, seeing you smile proudly at him made his heart burst into happiness. He leaned in to give you a kiss. Your lips moving against each other.

You slowly pulled away just enough that your lips were still brushing against each other. "I love you," you said "Win or lose, I'm proud of you for doing your best."

"I love you too," he replied.

Kissing you once more. Happiness and pride lighting up his face.

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barnesandco · 4 years

Text

Sunshine is Honey in the Mouths of Birds who have Tasted Cages

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut, so please be 18 or older. I will block you if you aren't.

A/N: This is my first smut one shot, and the first piece I've ever done with detailed smut generally, so please let me know what you think; I could use some constructive feedback. Also, I’d be over the moon if you would reblog - thank you so much for your support!

You bite your lip in concentration as you work on the third-to-last buckle on the jacket of his tac suit, leather scraping rough against your hands, but the smile in his eyes as he watches you undress him is cotton-soft clouds, stroking your cheek as gently as his hands on your hips. A watery chuckle escapes him as you shake your head and blink back your own tears when the jacket falls open to reveal the compression shirt he wears underneath, and you lean against his chest, dazed smile pressed into his sternum.

Bucky lowers his head so his nose brushes your hairline, murmuring his next words straight into your nervous system, setting your neurons alight the way only he can.

" 'M not sure how I thought you'd react, but this definitely wasn't it, doll."

"I just-" Another shake of your head, this time in equal parts of disbelief and awe, nuzzled into his chest, a huff of laughter. "-I know we've talked about it, and you said you were going to, but now that it's finally happening, I don't know what to say." Your voice breaks at the end, surprise and joy bursting at its seams. "You're retiring." It's a question, a half-doubt, that when repeated once more, and then twice, sounds like a promise rolling off your tongue.

The orange pinks of the incoming sunset pierce the room to set his eyes on fire, smoldering oceans when you finally push back to look at him. The room holds its breath when he smiles, but your first tear takes the chance to escape the corner of your eye, allows itself to be recaptured by his thumb as he lifts his hands to cradle your face. His hand rests in the crook of your neck like a sparrow in its favorite branch, warm and content, finally home.

"I am, baby, I am," he confirms, before leaning down to seal his mouth over yours, warmth thrumming beneath your skin. His other hand stay on your hips while yours rise to push the jacket off his shoulder. The light thump with which the Stark-engineered leather lands on the carpet in your bedroom is drowned out by the whimper released from your mouth, and his responding growl. He tastes like peppermint and ash, fresh from a mission and exhaling cold against you as he forces himself to release your waist, your face.

"I need a shower, darlin'. Don't want to celebrate all sweaty," he whispers, and you want to tell him you don't give half a damn - he can smell like sweat and gunpowder all he wants as long as he's home - but you know he's never at ease after a mission until he's had all the grime of it cleaned from him, physically and then emotionally. So you nod instead, following him to the bathroom, choosing not to mention his comment about celebrating, even as the excitement heats your insides and your imagination.

The world goes quiet, and then roars with the sound of the shower as you turn it on, then reaching to peel Bucky's shirt from his form. A sigh is released - heavy and quick, like a July breeze - as he traces your neck with his lips, while your hands shake to remove his pants. Steam is damp on your lips when he leans to plant his lips on yours once more, simultaneously tugging at the sleeves of your nightgown, the silk pooling at your feet, cool mercury against your ankles.

You step into the spray of shower, hot for summer, but just right to soothe your husband's likely aching bones, his weary face. The wrinkles seem to evaporate from his forehead as the water hits his shoulders, and he reaches for you, guiding you to stand chest to chest, heart to heart. A wet kiss, interrupted by the streams of water, is laid on your forehead, his hands soothingly traversing your back and waist, his wedding band a cool reprieve from the searing cocoon you're enveloped in.

Fear that your heart might just burst with the intensity of your love for him stabs at your chest, before you push it away with another smile at yourself and reach for shower gel and a loofah. The soapy suds glide across his body when you move your hand in circular motions, starting at his torso, taking care to trace every scar as it is made visible after the foam clears. His skin tenses, goosebumps erupting, and a kiss for gratitude every time.

You giggle at the last one and he nips at your bottom lip, and then your neck, laughing in between. Pretending to be stern, you waggle the shampoo bottle at him like a scolding finger, furthering his amusement.

"Enough funny business, Barnes," you tell him, and he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and bumping your forehead with his own when he gives an exaggerated nod.

"Yes, ma'am," and your lungs do a funny dance, your diaphragm struggling with the breath you were about to take. His blinding smirk is a surefire tell that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"I need to wash your hair," you say, reminding him of the bottle still in your hands, and he steps back before dropping to his knees, taking the loofah with him.

"Thought I'd wash your legs while I'm down here," He says in answer to your raised eyebrows, and you quell the urge to tell him his hands on your legs are not most conducive to keeping you on your feet. Instead, you begin to wash his hair, letting the leather wash away stolen remains of rubble and stone, blood and dirt. No more of that, you think happily. He's home now.

And he's very much at home too, comfortably sliding his hands up and down your legs to wash away the soap hands tracing patterns on your calves, your shins. You swallow a whimper when he traces the first letter of his name on your thigh. Try to focus on washing out the last of the shampoo as he replaces his fingers with his thumb. The only thing in his hair now is your fingers, clenching and stroking, when his mouth locates the peachy flesh at the apex of your thighs.

The color of the sky during summer sunsets is no warmer than this sacred space between your legs, the feeling he delivers when he moves just so, and God, you need to rest back on the tiles - a cool reprieve - as he opens you up to him, lifting a leg over his shoulder. Held up by one trembling leg, his vibranium hand on your waist, and the strength of that surge of pleasure, you bite back a growl.

"Jesus, you're delicious, baby," he slurs against you, lust-drunk and lost in the taste of you, the feel of your soft sweetness on his tongue, honey and sunshine and ocean saltwater all in one. His movements quicken as your breath shortens, a mewling cry let loose in the throes of your climax when he suckles on your sensitive bud. Fireworks behind your eyelids, it feels like a stampede of horses are racing across your ribs when he rises and gives you a kiss. The taste of you is tangy and sweet on his lips, a beautiful contrast with the rough scrape of his stubble.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He teases with a quirk of his kiss-swollen lips, and you resist the urge to kiss that smug expression off. This silence gives him more material. "Speechless, huh? I know I'm good but not that g-" You silence him with your lips on his, turning off the shower and pulling him out, wet limbs tangling and slipping against each other as you exit. Just barely managing to grab a couple of towels off the rack before he cages you against the sink with his arm on either side of you, you gasp as he layers your neck with weighted, wet kisses. A shock to your nerves in the form of a suckle on your pulse point, a scrape of teeth below your ear. A tingle down your spine as you feel his erection against your hip, and you've only just taken him in your hand when he exhales a growl infused with a sigh, dropping his head on your shoulder.

Your nimble hands are soft and delicate, loving and wanting, feathers over brick, bringing him ever closer to insanity and blissful heaven. But he doesn't let you take him all the way, only allowing a few minutes of a lover's caress before pushing off the sink, and taking one of the towels from your hands. He wraps you in it before draping the other across his shoulders and back. It falls off halfway from the bathroom door to the foot of your bed as he carries you to it. Skin is still shower-damp and crisp tingles litter every part of your body that his mouth touched, but all of that is forgotten when he lays you down and strips you of your towel, covering you with his body instead.

You have a perfect view like this, the last remains of the sunset giving him a rose-gold halo that you disrupt by pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Bucky rests on his elbows, watching you like he is content to do just that for the rest of his days.

"I can't believe it's over," He tells you, hot breath fanning over you as he leans further down, just toeing the line between going cross-eyed. Your second hand joins the first, caressing Bucky's face, tracing his laugh lines, letting a pinky rest in the divot of his chin, coming to rest with both hands on either side of his face, his warm smile tangible beneath your palms.

"I'm happy for you, Buck," You say, and he lowers his body, pressing his every edge into your every crevice, and vice versa, nudging your nose aside to whisper again, lips rasping against yours, eyes closed. He smells of soap and citrus now, clean and warm, content and so very Bucky.

"I'm happy for us," he answers, and then the impatience must surge in him as much as it does you, because he captures your lips in a kiss that curls your toes and lifts your legs to bracket his hips.

Bucky's hardness is more pressing now, heavy and warm against you as he rocks his hips to the rhythm of your pasps in between kisses. Gasps turn to moans, crystal clear reflecting the bubbling occurring below your navel when his fingers glide up the inside of your thighs to the spot that makes you bite your lip till you draw blood. And you almost do, but he captures your lips with his own again, swallows the resounding whimper elicited by his fingers twisting just so. Crescent-moon shapes indent his flesh bicep and a small, purple mark begins to form beneath your teeth at his collarbone as you do something, anything, to stem the overflow of pleasure he is releasing.

Something gives you the presence of mind to lift your hand from his shoulder and reach for his hair, look up to where he is watching you beneath hooded eyes and widened pupils.

"I want you," you inform candidly, pushing up to press a kiss against him. "Now, please," you add for good measure, pushing at his shoulders and he smiles, yielding to turn and lie under you.

Straddling his hips, sitting up, you need to take a deep breath, this time from the awe of the breathtaking sight before you. The contentment of bliss, the release he has found, it's written all over him and it's an expression you want carved into your heart as much he wants to keep it on him. Your husband has been a selfless man, repaying debts for crimes he never committed, and now he's decided that the past has been compensated for. That his life is finally his own, that he is home, and the only duty he has now is to you.

He smiles up at you like you're the sun itself, nods, speaks to you in that wordless language only the two of you share, that the two of you created. So you align your warmth with his, and sink down, taking him in whole. The gasp is torn from your chest harmonizes with his groan, and you rest your hands on your chest. Lean forward - sharp inhale as he goes deeper - and your hair curtains the pair of your from the world. One kiss, and you start moving.

His hand comes up to caress your breasts, metal finger circling nipples until you whimper again, lifting your hand to press him harder to you, the other linking with his flesh one at your hip. An electric current travels up your spine when he pushes harder, smiles softer, all contradictions and beautiful mix ups. Bucky is starshine and sunflowers underneath you, his lust-hazed eyes clear enough to shine. His hands guide you over him, rolling waves and butterfly flutters everywhere inside of you, and you kiss him again.

He tastes of sunbeams and ecstasy, tongue sweeping your mouth to memorize the feel of you on his lips, and you remind him again - in that language of lovers, with silent words - that he has all the time in the world for you. As long as he wants. Hours, days, weeks. Years. But the peak is impending; it cannot be held off much longer, and so he sits up against the headboard. Grunts to go deeper, stroke that secret spot nobody else has ever found.

"Bucky," you cry, when his hand finds your pearl of nerves, the rush of sensation sparkling like a fourth of July. His name is a catalyst, an aphrodisiac, and it gives him the push he needs to topple you both over the cliff and into the abyss, groans whimpered into each other's mouths, and hands sliding over lust-sodden bodies for something to hold onto as the world flips. You come back to earth slowly, and then plunge into it, opening your eyes like you've never seen such beauty, like he is a new galaxy in your arms.

"I love you, honey," he says, cupping your face tenderly, as if to hold flower petals.

"I love you, too," you reply simply, moving to get under the covers, head resting on his chest. You can hear his heart racing under your ear as you look out the window. The sun has set fully, but yours is here with you, warm and alive, sweet and home.

Taglist: @suz-123 @mermaidxatxheart @buckyreaderrecs @shield-agent78 @corneliabarnes @stevieboyharrington @notsomellowmushroom @veganfangirl5 @mood-pancakes @lbuck121 @redhairedfeistynerd @geeksareunique

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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misanthropecopy · 3 years

Text

@telekinetiq, @gooselullaby

The hour had come.

With all the time she spent preparing not only did Psyche find a new place to stay, she also completely set up new abode for family. The Mewtwo came up and collaborated with the villagers to create a new system of the island they were staying at. She figured out all the best places they could gather food, in their new home. Finally, she found multiple, backup locations in the unlikely event that Giovanni and Team Rocket would destroy their territory once again. Legendary was NOT going to be caught unprepared, this time.

The layout for their new system was a fairly simplistic one, or at least something villagers were faintly accustomed towards. The Zoroark would use their illusionary powers for concealing island completely from humanity’s radars and satellites whenever there were not any real storms going over, while Psyche would make sure to amplify their skills tenfold when amidst new home. No Pokemon was allowed to leave the island unless they asked Mewtwo first and save for some situation where an individual wanted out entirely genetic experiment would take them wherever she went, then keep a telepathic eye on wandering Pocket Monsters when exploring. If in the case of an unlikely event where some person just accidentally stumbles onto their territory they were to be tested as always. Those who weren’t involved in orchestrating these trials would need to keep their distance and if a human failed even once, they were to be immediately subdued until clone teleported them back towards wherever man originated from. Finally, any drones or tracking devices found were to immediately be terminated on SIGHT. No accused device containing surveillance functions was going to enter their sanctum, again.

It was more of a harsher life, then what the villagers had once known and Psyche did not exactly feel entirely satisfied with choices made herself but they all were pushed towards taking such measures. Besides if anyone scarcely believed this life was meant for them, individuals were free to take their own path and Mewtwo would drop them off wherever they wanted.

All the villagers were gathered around Mount Quena’s lakebed, taking one last look at their ephemeral home. It was evident that they had developed some fond memories here, with Stein, his clones and even “Amber”. Even if some had to hold themselves back on their natural instincts, they would never forget this place. Psyche herself would muse over these past, few weeks inside her heart for a long time. Elder clone had granted her a personal mercy, by allowing chosen kin to briefly remain here. Though whenever they spoke towards each other more masculine experiment’s tone often sounded critical, his actions spoke louder then meager words could express. She hoped that... he wouldn’t think less of her, for doing this.

Honestly, it was for the best that they leave. Stein was making enemies on so many sides and even those he dubbed allies Psyche knew hardly had his best interest at heart. Elder clone had provoked the dark side to come out from others and younger one wasn’t sure who she could trust outside of family anymore. Additionally though she tried so hard to refrain from getting involved in conflict, more savage-hearted side still leaked through and now newer Mewtwo was URGED on in creating advanced Pokeballs in case a certain, alien species tried invading or destroying planet. She was falling into that Raboot-hole of hypocrisy and more feminine Pokemon felt compelled to leave before villagers were dragged down with her! They had already been through enough, she didn’t want them fighting against Silvally and foul aliens too! Besides it’s not like she failed to inform other genetic legendary about her plans. From the very beginning she stated they would remain until another, suitable home was found. However... there was a possibility his ideas on this arrangement could have changed. Either way, she was not sticking around to find out.

Eyes engulfing themselves in a white light, with one broad extension of her arms she teleported villagers and herself to new home. This was the start of a new journey for them; a new adventure, waiting on the horizon. If all went well, the villagers would have a peaceful life here. As she and chosen kin vanished from Mount Quena however, something special was being delivered to Stein’s fortified abode.

With a flash of bright light, a single flower appeared near each and every one of Stein’s clones. These blossoms shaped similar towards stars contained white petals, which blended into a deep pink at its tips. Golden anther and filament stemmed from their centers, bringing with them a lovely aroma into atmosphere. They were gracideas and Psyche hoped bringing them these gifts would help appease any pain this parting evoked.

While each of the clones would receive their own blossom, there were two cases amidst Stein’s family who were especially lavished. Nanako, now called Amber would have many blossoms surrounding her person. Amidst these blooms would be a single note. If the little girl noticed it and picked item up, this is what she would read:

Dear “Amber”,

I know this may all be confusing to you; having these things suddenly appear before your person, so I will try my best to explain it in this letter. When me and Myuutsu met and he offered to let us stay with you all, it was only meant to be for a little while. We agreed that we would remain in Mount Quena until I found the villagers a new home. I have since then done that, thus by the time you read this letter the villagers and I will have already left the place. I know you considered us all family and I admit a part of me wishes we can still be that in your eyes, but this is for the best. Don’t be sad though! Life is full of hellos as well as goodbyes. Sometimes things have to change and maybe sometimes they are for the better. Whatever the case may be, know that we all love you very much and you’ll always be welcomed in our new home. This is why we left all these flowers for you, to show that. Just because we’re far apart now, shouldn’t mean we aren’t family anymore however if you feel differently because of our leaving, I understand. Finally, make sure to keep a good eye on Myuutsu. If he does anything that worries you, don’t be afraid to tell him about it. Out of everyone else in the world, you will probably be the one he listens to the most.

Sincerely yours, Psyche.

The second person who was given many gifts was surprisingly, Stein himself. In his most private quarters lied a plethora of not only gracidea flowers but lavender as well, all piled together. It was no small present and elder clone would need to lack sight and scent, in order for offering to go by unnoticed. She hoped such displays would be enough for him to acknowledge it, at least.

In the center of this mound there was a truly unique blossom, as it was not natural but meticulously crafted out of various gemstones. Shaped similar to the gracidea flowers, its petals were forged from amethysts whilst clear quartz made up the anther. Moonstone strands acted as the filament and magenta-colored metal strapped against sides of petals; seemingly holding small sculpture together. Finally two, green bloodstones were carved as the bloom’s leaves and protruded on its left side.

Another written note was right next to this present, if Stein bothered reading it the following words would be seen:

Dear Stein,

You will be pleased to know that I managed to find a suitable home, for me and the villagers. As per the agreement, we are now officially off of Mount Quena. You will not have to worry about us anymore, though if Rocket does stir up some trouble for us again I will be sure to let you know. I did not initially intend to inform you about my discovery through this, as I desired to tell you in person. Then again, you probably realized we were going to leave which is why you left first with your clones. The things that are coupled with this note are mainly gracidea flowers. They are said to bloom whenever an individual is extremely thankful and are given as a sign of gratitude. Each of your family members have received at least one and your little girl has been given enough for a bouquet or two. The villagers adored her, after all. The pile here however is specifically just for you, as it is a little something from all of us. I understand my family and I have thanked you numerous times verbally, for your hospitality and willingness to put up with what quirks we presented, but words were not enough. Thus we felt compelled to express our appreciation through some gesture, like this. You will also find lavender amongst your pile. This specific blossom grew in our former territory and its scent can be relaxing to where it even helps one sleep better. The gems making up this floret next to this letter are stones that I managed to salvage from the wreckage of my home. They were abundant in the caves there and each jewel is said to enhance a psychic’s clairvoyance, telepathy amongst other abilities. The bloodstone forming leaves in particular is said to protect its owner from evil, which you might need now more than ever. I will not lie to you, Stein. Everyone is worried for your well-being. The villagers, your clones, your little girl, even I myself have become concerned. I am aware of your strength and you are fully capable of handling yourself, but you have made countless enemies recently and I will be frank that I do not trust your newfound ally one bit. However since I assume you have left us out of whatever negotiations you forged with that individual, I will refrain from delving into that matter further. I do not doubt that humanity’s time will come, one day. They were erroneous to create sentient entities and then treat said creatures as if we were not alive. Their hubris will undoubtedly lead toward their downfall, in some fashion. I just hope they are not eradicated, while there are still other little girls like yours out there. What I am trying to say is, please be careful and most importantly watch your back. I fear that despite my efforts to crush any knowledge concerning beings like us, a flaw in our design may have been heard by ill-intentioned ears. I hope that you will stay safe, Stein. I do not wish for your family to possibly loose its protector. I don’t want a young lady to watch the closest thing she has towards a father be seriously wounded or worse. I do not want to see you get hurt, as you have already been through so much. Regardless whatever decision you make, I will try not to stand in your way. Whatever choice you put into action, I know you will do it out of consideration for your family. The villagers and I will never forget your kindness towards us and I confess that I hope it will not be too forward of me to call you a friend now. If you do not desire for me to regard you in such a way however, I will comprehend it.

Signed, Psyche.

It was Psyche’s wish that elder clone and the others might have some gratitude towards this little, grandiose gesture of theirs. She hoped that somewhere inside more masculine clone might at least appreciate the effort, put into it. However she would not set her hopes too high, on the matter. Stein, the clones and “Amber” were their own individuals, thus if any of them reacted poorly towards this she would accept it without protest.

She simply had to muster up faith, that they would all be okay.

#BEYOND MY LIMITS (ic)#IC UPDATE #telekinetiq #gooselullaby #littleblaze #popgoesthesneaselreturns #Long post//#((I know I mentioned only the first two blogs))#((but I figured I would tag the rest of the blogs who didn't get a note but are still effected by this decision too))#((also this is my 4000th post))#((so that makes it extra special :D))#((but DANG this took forever to write!))#((I may have to edit this like... 65 more times because I wrote so much sjhfjksf //SHOT))

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jasperswhumpjourney · 3 years

Text

Kitty Capers

This blog and storyline are a collaboration. And Feral suggested I post this piece of his for you all! @feralficwriter and Feral_Fic_Writer

Post Rescue Fluff, so this doesn't really have any content warnings, besides the usual. CW: Slavery, pet whump, lady caretaker, mentioned past abuse, A/B/O dynamics, brief mention of body modifications

Abbey looked up from her computer. Having fallen deep into her writing she’d suddenly realized it was time for a break. But her pet-parent senses also tingled: the house was entirely too quiet. Glancing around the front room she realized Minstrel and Liver were nowhere to be seen.

And, even more unusual, Jasper's pet bed was empty.

Not that Jas had to stay in his bed. In fact, she was pleased to see his usual station abandoned. Her poor rescued Omega finally seemed to be gaining enough confidence to venture about the apartment on his own a bit these past few weeks. And this was some significant progress.

Rising from her desk and stepping quietly out of the front room, Abbey peeked into the kitchen. No one was at the feeding or watering stations. Creeping down the hall, a glance into her bedroom showed none of her boys lounging on the bed there either. Well, at least not Minstrel and Liver. Jasper still had to be coaxed onto the bed and wouldn’t even venture near it unless she was in it.

"Where are they?" She wondered softly. Then a noise caught her attention, a shuffling behind the bathroom's slightly ajar door.

Rather cat-like herself, Abbey silently stalked forward. She carefully pushed the door further open, just enough to look in.

At the sight that greeted her, her hands flew up to cover her mouth. A whole roll of quilted toilet paper had been unraveled off its holder and all three of her pets were playing amidst heaps of soft white Charmin.

The bathroom was a disaster, but the scene was so cute it was all Abbey could do not to burst out laughing. What delighted her the most, however, was that Jasper, on his own, had slipped into kitten mode at some point. Naked now but for his tail plug and cat-eared headband he pounced about the mess just as kitten-like as his truer feline brothers.

Abbey knew that kitty head-space gave her poor, previously abused pet a freedom he couldn't otherwise obtain. But never had she witnessed her Jassy cat play with such abandon. He wiggled his small slender body, puffed, pranced, and pouted, as he frolicked about with her cats.

Somehow a giggle-hiccup managed to slip out past Abbey’s fingers. Minstrel was the first to hear it. Crouched low, his head swiveled toward the open door. Seeing her standing in the hallway he stared straight at her, unblinking. Despite sitting in the middle of a shredded pile his expression seemed to say, "not my fault. I was merely observing."

Still oblivious to her presence, Jasper had tipped over onto his back, his bare torso half-wrapped in TP like a mummy. He huffed out the closest thing to a giggle of his own Abbey had ever heard at the tickle of soft fur against his skin when Liver pounced and flopped on his side atop his bare belly.

Suddenly sensing Minstrel's change in mood, however, Liver looked up.

Knowing she'd been spotted, Abbey laughed out loud this time at Liver’s likewise unconvicted expression and pushed the door all the way open. “Okay you monsters!” She declared amid snickers, “the jig is up!”

Despite her declaration, as soon as the door’s opening widened further, in unison, Liver and Minstrel made a break for it! A flurry of black fur streaked like shadows out of the bathroom as they scampered to their favorite hiding spots. Caught and then falling away from Minstrel's tail, a four-foot, white streamer trailing halfway down the hall was soon the only evidence they'd ever been there.

Jasper, meanwhile, had frozen where he lay upon being discovered. Moments later, tense and trembling, he rolled over onto all fours and began to crawl shakily toward her. He stopped a few feet in front of Abbey and shifted into his perfectly practiced pet bow: head lowered, arms stretched out in front of him, his docked hands placed palms down.

“Oh, Jas,” Abbey sighed. His curly, honey-brown head lifted just enough to peep up at her.

The bathroom was suddenly stuffy with fear-filled omega scent. And it broke her heart to see the return of terror to the gaze that had been so joyfully innocent mere moments before. There was only one thing she could do.

"What in the world have you done, silly kitty?" She made sure to keep her voice high and light. Wide green eyes were fixed on her, still fearfully watching. "Did you need a new toy, Jassy Cat?

“You and the boys got bored and had to find something else to play with?"

A little bit of tension bled from Jasper's body. He lifted his head again and adorably bit his bottom lip. Hope crept into his eyes alongside the fear. Timidly he nodded.

He looked so sweet in his chagrin. Eyes glassy with his easy tears. Cheeks blushed so pink and hectic. Slowly Abbey squatted down and picked up a strip of the squandered paper. She scooted forward until it dangled just a foot or so away from him.

"Your brothers were very naughty to leave you here holding the bag..." She twirled the strip. "Or the paper as it were, in this case."

It was amazing how truly cat-like Jasper's green eyes were, so easily hypnotized by the streamer. His eyes darted occasionally back to her but it was clear he was quickly slipping back into kitten space. That he was able to recover so soon was such wonderful progress. Abbey smiled and leaned in, bringing the paper closer.

She smiled wider when very slowly Jasper lifted one of his docked “paws” and gave the dangling streamer a tiny pat.

“Do you like that flutter, Kitten?” Abbey wiggled the paper harder. “Come on, Sweetheart. Show me how you play.”

Always as obedient as possible, Jasper pattered at the bobbing streamer just as a kitten would. So focused and intent, he followed its every twirl. Then he paused his gentle batting to meet her gaze.

Abbey swallowed hard. She thought her heart might burst at how adoringingly Jasper looked at her. His green eyes sparkled with worshipful gratitude. No one in her life had ever loved her harder. It was something she was still getting used to.

“How did I manage to get such a cute kitty? Huh, Jassy Cat?” Abbey blinked happy tears. Then she gasped. Clearly having watched too many of Minstrel’s sneak attacks, Jasper pounced. Capturing not the paper but her wrist, he held it between his stub-fingered paws and rolled over onto his back again.

She dropped the TP streamer when he pulled her hand to his mouth. Had it been Minstrel, Abbey would have been shouting at needle sharp teeth against her skin. With Jasper, however, it was different. Squeals and peals of laughter echoed in the small space as she was attacked with ferocious kisses, nibbles, and licks.

“You’re so full of mischief, Jas!”

Jasper’s eyes flickered up to double check everything was okay, despite her laughter. Seeing her delight, he offered her a shy smile and one of his new giggle huffs before resuming his kiss ambush.

Abbey saw her omega pet was enjoying himself so much, his button of a cock was hard and leaking. His narrow hips wiggled, rubbing his tail’s plug part, seeking friction within his slicking hole. The scent of his pure pleasure and the sensation of his sweetly rabid kisses to her fingertips, got Abbey going as well.

Jasper’s nostrils flared catching a whiff of her Alphic arousal and his pupils dilated. His kisses grew longer and shifted from pecks into suckling.

“Oh, goodness… Aren’t you a naughty kitty!”

For once, Jasper’s eyes lit up at being called “naughty”. He increased his sucking and smiled up at Abbey around her finger. In reward for this response, with her free hand Abbey stroked soft down his collared neck. She traced around small, pink puffy nipples and tickled down his belly. Jasper’s back arched beautifully. Beneath her hand she felt the vibrations of his pleasure-purr before she heard it.

The wonderful sound of her happy omega just made Abbey wetter. Leaving off touching Jasper and reluctantly pulling away from his eager grip, she lifted her gauzy skirt. Bare beneath, it as usual, she spread her lower lips open with plump fingers. She dipped other fingers in and then held them out, showing her precious pet just how happy he made her.

“You know,” Abbey giggled. “Since Minstrel and Liver abandoned you, if you want, Jassy Cat. I know of another pussy you could play with.

Pupil-filled green eyes danced at the sight of her slick. Jasper’s pink tongue cutely poked out between his lips as he licked them in anticipation. Abbey picked up a fresh streamer and rose. “Come on, Babes,” she teased, making the paper flap and flutter as she headed out of the bathroom in the direction of her bed-nest. “Alpha has some cream for her kitten to lick up.”

His omega purr immediately growing louder, Jasper popped up in a flash to scamper on all fours after her.

Masterlist

#whump #pet whump #slavery #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #master/pet #caretaker #lady caretaker #cat boy #jas is a cute kitten!

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willowbird · 4 years

Note

Hi! How are you??? Congrats on 100 sweets!

For the prompt thingy can you write some Andrew and Kevin being best friends and shit (maybe Neil as well... idk) but yeah. please. Thank you<3

Oh! You want Kevin and Andrew going apple-picking and Andrew being his wingman? That’s what you said, right? Right? (also thank you thank you thank you!)

This one got a little bit long again, sorry friends. Rather read it on AO3? None of my formattings transferred over so if you want the full effect of how often I use italics (a lot, it’s a lot, like -- it’s excessive I’m sorry) then you might wanna click the link. Otherwise!! Enjoy :)

-----

The rusticly decorated archway had a worn sign that proclaimed 'Welcome to Sonny Acres Farm!' far too cheerfully. Andrew looked up at it in disdain and then landed his judgemental stare the reason he was here in the first place.

Kevin was too used to the glare to be affected by it. "It has good reviews," he explained, like that was anywhere close to being a valid excuse for dragging him out here. The sun was warm but the breeze was mild, the fresh scent of autumn leaves made just a bit sweeter by the hint of apples. It was ten in the morning, the world was quiet but alive, and Andrew was disgusted by how fucking beautiful it was.

"Right." Andrew didn't know why Kevin had wanted to come to this place so badly, but he was sure it had nothing to do with the reviews. First of all, why the fuck was he looking at reviews anyway? Why the fuck would anyone want to go apple picking of all things? When Andrew had asked these perfectly reasonable questions, Kevin had been annoyingly evasive.

'Are you coming or aren't you?' he'd snapped instead of giving a straight answer, already getting flustered. As if it weren't already glaringly obvious that he was hiding something. Which of course meant that Andrew had agreed to go, if only to see what the fuck this was really all about.

"So are we just going to stand here, or…?" Andrew raised a single eyebrow at his distressingly tall best friend, mostly because he knew how much it irritated him.

Since it looked like Kevin was still preparing himself for something, and Andrew was getting impatient, he only gave him a moment to respond before shrugging and striding forward. He passed under the sign and followed the path to the building closest to the parking lot they'd just come from, not bothering to look back and see if the Abominable Anxiety was following or not. The building revealed itself to be a shop, selling everything from Sonny Acres merch like t-shirts and tote bags to baskets of apples and just about every apple-themed product you could imagine. Apple sauce, apple butter, apple candy, apple pies. Apple soap, apple shampoo, apple lotion. Apple plates, apple dresses, apple earrings, apple apples.

(No, literally, there was a statue thing that was a large apple… made out of smaller apples.)

Also, four shelves of different kinds of apple candles. Andrew wasn't sure whether to be disturbed or impressed.

The bell on the door chimed behind him before he could make up his mind and he looked behind him to see Kevin entering. Andrew looked him dead in the eye and made a slow, simple gesture at the shop, keeping his expression deadpan.

Unaffected, because he was a bastard, Kevin dared to just roll his eyes and walked past Andrew without comment. He walked through the shop to the check-out counter at the back, looking around like some kind of lighthouse-wannabe giraffe man until he came to stand before it. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before knocking on the surface and clearing his throat.

"Uh… hello?"

Andrew continued to look around the shop, discovering a new apple-themed bit of nonsense with each scan of his eyes. His brain was beginning to hurt. He didn't look over at the desk through the shuffle of the clerk or whoever coming out at Kevin's call and didn't really register their greeting in return. He did snap his attention in that direction at Kevin's response though, which was a stammering, awkward, "Oh, hey… yeah. Hi. Apples."

Andrew watched with instant understanding as the veritable catastrophe played out before him. It was a fucking train wreck and Andrew had never been more glad to be at a place called Sonny Acres in his entire fucking life. Kevin hadn't stopped talking. It was like he couldn't, and it just kept getting so much worse which meant it kept getting so much better. Andrew thought about coming to his rescue, he really did.

"I mean, there are apples here. Of course there are apples. I mean, apples to pick. I came to pick your apples - oh God not YOUR apples! The apples that you grow at the farm. On the farm. On the farm. I promise I understand English grammar."

Oh Kevin. So that's why he's been unable to get a straight answer out of him earlier. There was absolutely nothing straight about this little trip to the apple orchard at all.

The not-straight answer in question was several inches shorter than Kevin but still too tall to be trusted. Additionally, he was wearing a sunny, affectionate smile like he did so often, the expression easy and comfortable on his face. There were even dimples in his light brown cheeks. Ridiculous. His hair was curly and bleached to a springy caramel except for the roots, and was held back with a headband that, yup, had apples on it. Objectively, Andrew could see why Kevin was being an absolute disaster over the man. Personally, he liked someone a little less sunshine and a little more lightning bolt. Or he would, if he did relationships, which he didn't. He didn't even think about them, and certainly not regarding the unfairly hot neighbor that lived across the hall from him and Kevin.

Andrew moved forward, jamming his focus back on the two morons in front of him rather than Idiot Who Shall Not Be Named.

Sonny Acres Sunshine laughed at Kevin's antics like he was being charming, his eyes dancing. Yeah, dancing. Sweet fuck. "You're a riot Kev."

"Yeah, Kev is hysterical," Andrew agreed breezily as he stepped up beside him, looking the other man up and down. "Aren't you Kev? A regular John Mulaney this guy. Hysterical." He slapped Kevin on the back harder than necessary and ignored the glare he got in return. The dumbass could thank him later.

Sonny Sunshine grinned at him. "You must be his roommate. Andrew, right? I'm Jeremy! He's talked a lot about you. I'm glad you guys came."

"Funny," Andrew deadpanned, studying his own fingernails, "he never mentioned you. Wonder why that is."

"So! Apples," Kevin cut in, apparently feeling pushy today. "Ah, we've never been apple picking or anything. Is there a way we should go about this?"

The process seemed fairly obvious to Andrew, but he let it go.

Jeremy grinned at Kevin, bright and enthusiastic. "I can walk you through it, no problem. You'd be surprised how many people have never been apple picking before."

Somehow Andrew doubted this, but - charitable soul that he was - he let that one go too.

"Really? Fall is supposed to be the time for it though, right?" Kevin attempting to chit-chat was one of the single most pathetic sights Andrew had ever had to witness. It took all his self control not to grimace.

Jeremy didn't seem to notice though. He just kept smiling, watching Kevin talk like -- oh.

Well then, Andrew's role here had just changed. Andrew could practically see the blue, purple, and pink hearts dancing around his roommates head. Idiot. Ah well, if they were going to do this, they may as well do this.

Andrew sighed heavily. "Maybe you could just come with us? Kevin owes me a home-made apple pie and I will not suffer subpar apples."

The look of annoyance Kevin shot him morphed quickly to gratitude the second he realized what Andrew was doing.

Jeremy was oblivious.

"Sure thing! It'd be my pleasure." Andrew didn't miss the way Jeremy looked directly at Kevin as he said that, because clearly neither of these idiots understood subtly. That was fine. It made his job easier. More amusing, too.

Jeremy asked them to give him a moment to recruit something called an 'Alvarez' to watch the shop for him then left them alone, disappearing into the back room.

As soon as he was gone, Andrew dropped a heavily judgemental stare on Kevin. This one had significantly more effect and Andrew was pretty enough to feel smug about that. He let the silence stretch until Kevin visibly strained with how hard he was trying not to squirm. Then and only then did he sigh and release him, granting a benevolent shrug as he strolled lazily around shop, trailing his fingers over the apple merchandise.

"So," he said, "Jeremy."

"What about him?" God, it was like he wasn't even trying. Andrew gave him a look and Kevin sighed. His shoulders sagged as he accepted defeat and Andrew basked in sweet victory.

"He's just perfect, alright? He's smart, and athletic, and adorable, and perfect, and sweet, and hilarious, and when he suggested I come see the orchard…" Kevin drifted off, like no other explanation was needed. For once, he was right.

"For the record, I fully expect an apple pie out of this." Andrew picked up an apple-shaped snow globe with an apple tree inside it that had miniature apples floating about in place of snow. He shook it and watched the apples spin and cloud around in a murder-red blur for a moment before he looked up at Kevin. "Also, you are buying the ice cream."

Kevin sighed but didn't argue. "What am I supposed to do? I've been out of the dating sphere for a while."

"Kevin you were never in the dating sphere." Kevin's 'dating' experience included mostly a lot of pining and one actual relationship with a girl who had gotten pissed at him for being abused by his shit family. Yeah. Andrew didn't tell Kevin what to do, but he could lay ground rules that the bitch wasn't permitted at their apartment. He also corrected Kevin every time he said her name by muttering 'Traitorous Bitch' until Kevin finally saw reason and broke up with her.

"You aren't being helpful." My, someone was whiny today.

Andrew set down the snow globe. "Want my advice?"

"Yes!"

"Offer to suck his cock."

"Andrew!" Kevin looked so scandalized one would think a nineteenth-century rake had just asked him to bare his ankles.

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Just be up-front with him, Kev. You like him, tell him. Be honest about what you want, ask him what he wants. Talk about it. Take it from there."

"What if I embarrass myself?!"

"Then you embarrass yourself." Andrew shrugged and scooped up an apple-shaped hackysack. He tossed it into the air a few times then grabbed another and tossed them back and forth. "What is the worst that could happen? Mr. Sunshine says 'no thanks'?"

Kevin scowled at him. "Yeah, and then refuses to ever even look at me again."

Andrew scooped up a third applesack (hackyapple?) and adjusted his rhythm before he landed his judgement back on Kevin. "If he never speaks to you again just for being honest with him then he isn't worth your time to begin with." He stared at Kevin for several revolutions of his pattern, the schick of the hackyapples hitting and leaving his palms the only sound in the shop.

Predictably, Kevin was the one to look away first. Andrew gave him a moment and added a fourth hackyapple to the pattern.

"I really like him…" Kevin finally said, his voice low.

"Clearly," Andrew agreed without sympathy. "Look, you have two choices here Day. You can do something about it, or you could do nothing about it, and let me tell you - pining is not a good look on you."

The overgrown ear of corn muttered something like "Speak for yourself" and then yelped as Andrew smoothly nailed him in the forehead with a hackyapple (those things had just the perfect heft to them).

"What was that?" Andrew asked nonchalantly, smoothly dropping into the three-pattern.

"I said, speak for your-- ow! Stop that!"

Andrew gave him an innocent look.

"Oh cool! You can juggle?" Jeremy's sunny voice cut in before Kevin could attempt to say something stupid again. Andrew looked over and abruptly dropped his hands to his sides, letting the applesacks hit the ground with soft whacks.

"Nope." Andrew shrugged, picking up the apple-globe again and shaking it as Kevin grumbled and scooped up the fallen hackyapples.

Jeremy chuckled like he'd just made a joke and lifted up three honest-to-fuck baskets with little gingham clothes lining the insides to protect the apples. One was red, one was green, and one was blue. Andrew sighed and held his hand out for one, the just stared at Jeremy when he was offered first the red, then the blue, before taking the green one that was rightfully his. "Kevin likes red," was all he said.

"Yeah?" Jeremy looked at Kevin and smiled as he offered him the red basket. "That's perfect then, blue is my favorite. At least of the baskets. I also like green," he volunteered, looking into Kevin's green eyes.

Sickening, this was truly sickening.

"Yeah, green," Kevin offered eloquently.

Andrew watched as Jeremy nudged the tall idiot and just barely managed not to shake his head in disdain. He did snort his amusement when he caught Kevin watching Jeremy's ass as the man led them out of the shop through a side door near the back by the desk. The door took them right out to a path that led directly into the orchard. Andrew gave Kevin a pointed shove and made a meaningful gesture for him to catch up with the object of his affection. Kevin scowled at him, but did as instructed because he knew Andrew was right. Because Andrew was always right.

As it turned out, apple picking wasn't as terrible as Andrew had thought it would be. Getting to watch his best friend trip over himself on a constant loop served to be excellent entertainment for the day. He also got to covertly vet this guy that Kevin was so stupid over and as far as he could tell, Jeremy Knox was exactly what he appeared to be. He laughed at Kevin's terrible attempts at humor, was actually able to keep up with him when the conversation turned to the misrepresentation of American History in public schools, and Andrew counted at least thirty-seven times over the course of their little apple picking extravaganza where Jeremy found an excuse to touch Kevin. They weren't invasive touches, nothing gross or grabby or anything, but they were telling. Jeremy was always adjusting the basket he was holding or touching his arm or his hand or picking a leaf out of his hair or -- well, yeah. It was gross.

For his part, Andrew hung back and let the two idiots moon over each other, occasionally joining the conversation whenever Kevin shot him desperate looks or the topic deserved his input.

By the time they were done, Andrew was half-expecting an invitation to the nuptials.

"Hey, this was really great. I'm glad you decided to come by," Jeremy said as he packed their apples into white paper back with smiling little apple-people on them. "Both of you, of course," he amended unconvincingly with only a small glance to Andrew before giving his undivided attention to Kevin again.

"Of course. Yeah! This was amazing. With the apples. And you." Dear Jesus.

Andrew gave Kevin a swift kick to the shin and just stared at him when the man winces and glared down at him. He tried to laser the instruction 'Ask him out you nimrod' directly into his stupid brain and it must have worked because when Kevin finished his silent hissy fit he turned to Jeremy with an apologetic smile and said, "We should do this again."

Andrew kicked him again, because that wasn't good enough.

"I mean! Without the apples. Not that I don't like apples, Andrew ow! Cut it the fuck out!"

Andrew heaved a sigh and threw up his hands, turning to go find those hackyapples. You try to help a guy…

Jeremy was chuckling by the time Kevin turned back to him. Andrew watched out of the corner of his eye as the cheerful orchard-tender placed a hand over Kevin's on the counter. He couldn't see Kevin's face from the angle he was at but he was sure it was as red as some of those fucking apples they'd picked.

"I'd really like that," Jeremy said more quietly.

"M-me too," stammered Kevin with the utmost class.

Pleased with himself, Andrew scooped up a handful of the hackyapples and made his way back to the counter to purchase them. Because he was feeling charitable, he said nothing about the dopey-ass grin on Kevin's face as they gathered up their apples and left. He didn't even comment on the way the dumbass was legitimately humming when they got into the car -- because he was a supportive and generous friend.

That generosity lasted all the way back home. They were just getting to their apartment and Andrew was holding both bags of apples so Kevin could unlock the door when Kevin suddenly stopped and looked down the hall toward the stairs they'd just climbed. Then he lifted his hand in a wave and said, "Oh, hey Neil."

Shit shit shit shit shit!

Andrew glared at the back of Kevin's head, willing him to open the goddamn fucking door.

"Kevin, hey. Andrew? What've you got?" Unable to ignore him now that he'd been directly addressed, Andrew turned slowly and stared blankly as Neil-fucking-Josten came to stand right in front of him. He was wearing a lightly curious smile on his stupid face, one that pulled up on just the one side of his mouth and revealed just the shadow of what might be a dimple if the infuriating man were to smile any deeper. What was even more offensive was the way his eyes reflected the light so that they looked like a celestial sea, stars within stars staring back at him, tempting him with all the things he didn't want to want.

Not only that, but Neil must be just coming back from a run because he was lightly flushed and the pink that clung to his cheeks, throat, and ears made Andrew’s brain do a thing resembling an old-fashioned VCR when you attempted to rewind a tape while it was still playing -- streaks of static breaking up what should be comprehensible. His wild auburn curls were pulled back with a garishly orange bandana but that only meant there was nothing in the way of his eyes.

His eyes...

He must have been silent for too long because Neil peered into the bags he was holding. “Oh, hey -- apples.” That curious little smile softened and spread slightly as he looked up at him again.

Andrew said, “Apples.”

“I love apples,” Neil said.

Andrew said, “Apples.” Because he was that fucking smooth.

Kevin coughed behind him and Andrew tore his gaze away from Neil’s stupidly pretty face, glaring down into the bags of apples.

“You should take some,” Kevin offered. “We have more than we need. I’m going to look up how to make an apple pie later too, if you want any.”

“Really? Thanks.” Neil flashed a cheeky grin at Kevin then looked to Andrew. “Can I?”

Andrew said, “Apples.” This time though, he also nodded and attempted to angle the bags so that Neil could reach in a pick out a few. He was sure the other man could hear the way his heart was playing his ribcage like a xylophone as he leaned in so damn fucking close to examine the apples that Andrew could see how criminally long his eyelashes were. Then he was pulling away with his prize, three smallish apples and one large one.

He held them up and nodded. “Thanks for the apples. See you later for the game, Kevin?”

Andrew nodded mutely and Kevin grunted an affirmative, and then Neil was gone, vanishing into the apartment across the hall. Andrew stared at the closed door for a moment then turned toward their own apartment. Kevin was standing there with a smug look on his fucking face.

“Apples,” Kevin said conversationally.

“Shut the fuck up Kevin.” Kevin was still cackling when the door shut behind them. Fucking bastard.

#asks #anon #100 followers #kevin day #andrew minyard #aftg #aftg fic #ao3 link #andrew and kevin are best friends #i had like 20 different ideas for this #but I went with this one because i also wanted kevin to go on a date?#andrew makes a good wingman #andrew can juggle!#i don't know why i made him juggle but he just can #hackyapples #its a thing #hashtag hackyapples

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nocturnegloam · 4 years

Photo

Here in the midwest United States, the chilly morning mists are currently giving way to the sunrise set behind overcast, on the passing of this spring equinox, Alban Eiler, and Ostara, among its many other names. There is a distinct and special liminality which the vernal equinox possesses. The day and night come in perfect balance, as light and warmth prepare to inherit the Earth.

As life cultivates in all its forms and motions, so do we. Even in the current global climate, we find ways to adapt and revive with tenacity. Now may be a time more befitting than ever to celebrate and appreciate the fire within our hearts, and circulate our feelings of love, inspiration, motivation, and gratitude through the collective.

Of course, it is essential that in celebrating the passing of the seasons, we remain considerate of all life in our observance. This remains especially true during the current pandemic. Try not turn to fret in haste, though—even in the face of life’s uncertainty, we can find inspiration, clarification, comfort, growth, direction, balance, protection, personal action, and more.

Even for the best of us, the world will always procure unexpected circumstance, such as the current pandemic. When the life we share urgently calls, planning for things that may be deeply sacred to us may slip through our fingers. We should not let this “ebb” of the natural ebb and flow discourage us on our sabbatical or spiritual journey, lest our practices become “chores”, rather than extraordinary connections with ourselves and the beyond. The “ebb” is there to teach us something, to urge us to look deeply within ourselves. Even when the state of the world becomes seemingly inextricable, our sabbatical and spiritual practices can remain as mechanisms of divine retreat and reinvigoration.

Last night, when reading tarot, I pulled The World. Through quite a bit of reflection with this absolutely evocative card, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to help my small locale reconnect with the Earth and its seasons. To help them reconnect with their deepest selves as authentically as possible. To be a small catalyst, and a gentle guide on a path they walk all their own.

Originally, this post was only going to be a simple list of ideas on how to celebrate this equinox during the pandemic, with social distancing and conservation of supplies (mainly food) in mind. I.e, you’ll need no more supplies than yourself and what you’ve already got at hand. In truth, that is still all it's going to be, following these paragraphs. But after meditating this morning, I felt I should share deeper insight in the simple hopes it might inspire someone else. Or, just simply cheer them up.

To whoever reads this, this is for you—and I hope you have a splendid spring equinox. I hope you can make it something all your own. I hope you find healing, revitalization, balance and more.

Best regards, Sierra

Ideas for the observation and celebration of the spring equinox/Alban Eiler/Ostara, with the pandemic, social distancing, and food conservation in mind:

General correspondences:

Colors: Pastels, green, yellow, and pink.

Plants: Comprehensive list here.

Trees: Birch, ash, and alder.

Animals: Hares, snakes, birds, baby animals, caterpillars, ladybugs, and bees.

Crystals: Ultimately up to your own discretion, color correspondences work just fine. Specific crystals can include quartz (clear and rose), aquamarine, moonstone, jade, amethyst, and more.

Incense: Anything floral, light, fresh, or sweet-smelling.

Element: Air

Symbols: Eggs, hare/snake/bird guarding an egg, spring flowers, feathers, sprouts, shamrocks, and trefoils/trinities/triplicities.

Themes: Light, balance, cleansing and healing, feminimity, fertility, fruition and abundance, love and attraction, blessing the home.

Decorate your altar with the holiday correspondences! Ideas for items to include are potted plants, crystals, ribbons, budding branches, dried flowers or herbs, clovers, a small glass of milk and honey, baskets, seed packets, incense and feathers, and figurines of deities or baby animals.

If you don’t have any of these items readily available, replace them with themed drawings, paintings, or your own creations for the equinox. Make your altar as simple as you need to. Right now, social distancing and food conservation are more important than picking up a few extra supplies.

When you get hungry, you can make meals including fresh fruits, spring greens and vegetables, sweets (especially cakes), nuts and seeds, floral teas, lemonade, eggs, fish, and more.

Leave offerings of non-crucial supplies to deities, the Fae, spirits, ancestors, familiars, the element of air, or any other relevant entity of your choice. Write them a short poem, prayer, letter, etc. Take a moment to center yourself. Read your prose and give the offering, and express gratitude for their guidance. If you wish, burn a candle or incense in their name, as well.

Perform a ritual to commune with your entities of choice, or to your deepest self. Or, the ritual can be performed to welcome spring into your life and into your home. It can be as simple or elaborate as you wish. When communing, focus on the theme correspondences I listed above if you would like a targeted ritual for the holiday.

Perform your favorite form of divination, and ask questions/seek guidance relating to the themes of the equinox. Here are some examples:

What seeds should I plant to grow into my fullest fruition?

Who or what aspect of my life brings me warmth and growth, like the sun itself?

What can I do to make my mind as clear as the snow melt streams?

What has this winter taught me?

What parts of myself should be reborn, and what parts of myself should melt away?

How can I nurture new opportunities?

Make equinox water by leaving a bowl of water outside from sunrise until noon. Or, set it out at the exact time or the equinox and leave it outside overnight. You can use this as a spell component later.

Make a symmetrical crystal grid to symbolize balance, and to charge your crystals. Bonus points if you make it in the shape of an equinox-related symbol, such as a clover. Put a candle in the center of the grid to symbolize growing light. You can chant, sing, play an instrument, pray, or use a singing bowl or chimes for additional charging. If you have enough salt on hand, surround your crystal grid with it, and this will help with cleansing your crystals as well. If your crystals are safe with water (do your research!), you can also cleanse them with salt water, spell water, or moon water spray, for a mess-free cleanse. You could also waft incense smoke over them, if you wish.

Dilute your favorite floral, fresh, or sweet essential oils, herbs, and salt in plenty of water, to make a cleansing spray, or to add to mop water for spring cleaning. Make sure to enchant the mixture with visualization or other techniques. Say a prayer or chant over it, or repeat a strong and specific statement of intention over it three times. There are other methods you can use to activate it, as well. Be safe and do your research when using any essential oils and herbs. Essential oils DO NOT replace proper disinfecting supplies.

Spring cleaning: Sweep, dust, scrub, and mop, finish the laundry, change your home’s air filters, organize your pantry and refrigerator, rearrange your furniture, etc. all while practicing visualization. Chanting or singing, or incorporating spell components when cleaning helps, too.

Take part in your favorite meditations and breathing exercises for basic grounding and clearing. Pro-tip, doing this outside (where you aren’t in contact with anyone else) is extremely helpful in connecting with the season. If you can’t go outside, turn on nature audio tracks or springtime fantasy music.

Write down your wishes and goals for the next six months, and record your reflection of today’s holiday. Hide or bury the list somewhere (you can bury it in a fake egg if you want to be festive). It is said to be good luck to wish upon the spring equinox in this way, and to plant your goals like seeds to grow over the next six months. Excavate it at the next equinox, and look back on your reflections and what you have accomplished.

Perform general item enchantments, or enchant pastel-colored clothing, accessories, or makeup items with glamour or attraction magic. Choose any attribute related to the spring equinox, that you would like others to see in you when you wear this specific item. Or, enchant the item to attract people with those attributes. There are a number of ways you can perform enchantments. My favorite process for enchantment is as follows:

Pick the item. Cleanse it with salt water, moon water, smoke, the light of the full moon, a clear quartz crystal, or clearing visualizations. Then, charge the item with sunlight, sound, or burying.

Place a ward on the item. First, cast a circle to block outside influence, if you wish. Then, place the object near protective “enhancers” (crystals, herbs, etc. if you have them, this is by no means required). Finally, say a prayer, chant, or repeat a strong and specific statement of protection over the item while visualizing a protective sheath around it. When finished, announce your conclusion. Break the circle, or, move on to the next step. Alternatively to all of this, you can create a protection sigil (don’t forget to charge and seal it after you create it), let the object sit on the sigil overnight, and destroy the sigil the next day. This will also place a protective ward on the item.

Enchant the item. This process is similar to warding, but rather than focusing on statements of protection, you are focusing on your statement of intention. Ask yourself questions like: What do you want others to see in you when you wear this enchanted object? What perspectives and energy do you want to dispel? What do you want to attract in others? Cast a circle with your corresponding intention “enhancers” (crystals, herbs, sigils, etc), if you wish, and answer those questions. Use your answers to come up with a strong and specific statement of intention, a prayer, chant, etc. While reciting your choice of prose over the object, visualize the energy from yourself and your “enhancers” entering the object. When the collective energy reaches a peak, drive the last of the energy into the object and announce your conclusion. Seal the item with a good squeeze, a splash of salt/moon water, or a dash of salt. Take a moment to center and ground yourself with the object, and break your circle. Your enchantment is complete.

Create or perform other types of spells (there is no way I could list all of them) with the equinox theme correspondences I listed above. Here are more general ideas for what I couldn’t encompass in this post:

Examples of types of spells: Blessing or consecreation spells for the self and home. Love and attraction spells. Cleansing and healing spells. Warding and protection spells. Spells for restoration of personal balance. Spells for fertility (for the surrounding land, or the self). Enchant items to make charms, amulets, or talismans with attributes relating to the spring equinox, etc.

Examples of types of magic: Air elemental magic, crystal magic, tea magic, bath spells and rituals, jar/satchet magic, glamour magic, sex magic, hearth magic, plant magic, knot magic, poppet magic, sigil magic, planetary magic, astrological magic, sorcery and summoning magic, deity/ancestor work, faerie magic, hedge magic, divination magic, and more.

Please feel free to use any of these ideas, to adapt them in your own ways, or to add on more ideas, information, or recommendations! Happy equinox to you all.

#spring equinox #alban eiler #ostara #ostara ideas #wheel of the year #pagan #mine

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heythatpenguinhere · 4 years

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Realization

*Back at it again for another Eleteo fan fic! KUDOS to Gus from the Discord group for the fluffy idea!!

In theory having a magical dress and new powers sounded great; to actually possess this power, however, was a whole other story.

Princess Elena was used to pretty much wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She didn’t have much reason to hide her feelings and was very open to expressing herself as she saw fit. Emotions like happiness, peace, gratitude, amusement, and curiosity filled her days with enough to keep her busy. Besides, she was quite terrible at hiding her emotions especially if they were very big emotions. This very flaw led her to where she was at this exact moment; hiding before a palace pillar hoping she hadn’t been seen.

“Okay what is going on with this dress!” Elena said to herself, examining the fabric between her fingers.

The crystals in her dress glowed as they often did, catching the sun’s rays and creating a prism of colors that was absolutely beautiful; she loved that new addition. But the real problem at the moment was her dress’ color. Her dress was currently a rosey shade of pink that seemed to glow and pulse with Elena’s heartbeat.

The longer she had her new powers, the more familiar she was getting with them and realizing the emotional meaning behind the colors and their potential outbursts. Yellow for joy and happiness, purple for anxiety or fear, aqua for calm and relaxation, and the list went on and on. Pink was not a new color. It was a color she had experienced early on around her family with fond memories; pink related to the feeling of love and care. So why was the princess hiding behind a palace pillar talking to her dress?

Everything in her day had been normal. The changes in moods and colors were as predicted and she had a much stronger reign on the powers that manifested. That was until she caught sight of her dear friend Mateo. Mateo had just come from his Wizard workshop when Elena had noticed him. She smiled and had gone to greet him when she examined him more closely.

Mateo was clad in his new robes, courtesy of his grandfather. The robe was maroon with a gold and deep forest green trim along the neck and waist. It fit him perfectly and the robe only served to accentuate his growing figure. And growing he apparently was. Not only was Mateo noticeably taller, but he was also bulking up a bit more in muscle and his robe was definitely showing that now.

Elena felt herself getting unusually warm and her face burning. When did Mateo start to look like… That?? She couldn't process a coherent thought or word to say as her mind felt like it was sizzling and her mouth went dry. This was her friend! Her best friend! What in the world was she doing thinking like that?

While she may not have been able to process her thoughts, the magic inside her had no issue flowing with the newfound emotion. The princess' dress changed colors to a bright pink shade and before Elena could even realize the change, the magic flowed from her and to a flock of birds above. Soon the birds that were flying over the garden were soaring down toward the royal wizard. As soon as they reached him they began to sing a romantic tune and flap their wings to make his hair blow slightly in the breeze.

Elena looked mortified. What was happening?! She had to call off the serenading birds somehow! She ducked behind a pillar in the garden and began to try and relax herself.

"Baby Jaquins Elena, baby Jaquins…" She said to herself as she kept her eyes closed and tried to fan herself. In her head, images of Miggs’ kids flying around were seen as they giggled and played.

She peaked from her eyes and noticed Mateo watching the display of birds oddly and looking around to locate a reason for their odd behavior.

Elena flung herself again behind the pillar, back against the concrete and breathing uneven. She had to get out of there.

"Hey Elena, watcha up to?" came a voice from the Princess' side.

Elena looked up from the scroll she was reading to see Naomi standing there. She sighed heavily and dropped her face onto the table she was at.

"Trade agreements going that bad?" She asked, before pulling up a chair next to her.

The princess shook her head. "If only it were that… My powers are just… being weird." She said with a sigh.

Naomi tilted her head, "What do you mean weird?"

Elena's cheeks warmed, "My powers are being weird… around Mateo…" She struggled to get out.

This took Naomi off guard. "Well I may not know much about magic, but aren't your new powers triggered by your feelings?"

Elena nodded, "Yes they are, which is why I don’t understand what's happening. The magic is getting it wrong."

"Can magic even do that?" She asked her back.

"Honestly I don't know, but it has to be. It's the only explanation and it's driving me insane." Elena said, sinking back onto the table's surface.

"You're going to have to give me a bit more to work with here Elena. What exactly has been going on? What's going on that's so weird?" Naomi asked her friend to try and get more understanding.

Elena retold the events that transpired earlier that day and what happened. "I just don't understand why this is happening. Can I not be normal around Mateo anymore for some reason?" She said frustrated.

"And you said the dress turned pink right? Which it had never done around Mateo?" Naomi had a strong suspicion as to what was happening. Judging by her friend's confusion, frazzled explanation, and blushy cheeks, she strongly suspected that the dress/magic was absolutely not wrong; the magic was actually very right.

“Yes. It turned pink and then the birds started serenading him. I thought I would melt right then and there honestly.” Elena stated, her words muffled from the table’s surface.

Naomi knew she was going to have to tread carefully with breaking the news to her friend. The only times she had seen the dress turn pink was around her family; more specifically when Elena felt love for others. So putting two and two together, it seemed that Elena was feeling some form of that emotion now for Mateo. It really wasn’t that wild to think either. Naomi always thought the two of them were closer together than the rest of their group. It was obvious that they shared a bond strengthened by the magic they experienced and the fact that they had a history from the very beginnings of Elena’s journey. So why wouldn’t that bond grow and change with them?

Naomi rubbed the back of her neck, “Bare with me here okay? So… What if, and this is a big what if, the magic… Isn't wrong?" She said and closed her eyes to brave for the worst.

Elena was just dumbfounded. The magic not being wrong wasn't something she had even considered. Could the magic in her just be honing in on what she was feeling for real? But why now?

"I, I just… Why now? Why would my… Feelings towards Mateo change now?" Elena said trying to understand.

"Hmm I mean you guys have faced a lot together, especially lately. Mateo and you have both really grown. Maybe the feelings have just grown too?" She suggested, leaning back into her chair.

Naomi seemed to understand Elena had a lot to process and soon announced she was going to go and find Gabe. This left the princess to ponder on her thoughts and specifically her emotions revolving her best friend.

"Zuzo!" The princess exclaimed after pacing her floor for what seemed like hours.

In a flurry of blue magic, her spirit guide popped up floating.

"How goes it Princess?" He said staring down at her.

Elena sighed, "Not good Zuzo. I, I think I need some magic help."

The princess was still pacing around her room as the fox flew around her.

“Well what can I do for you? Is it a new power? A Meruvian curse? A magical creature causing chaos?” He said counting different things off on his hand in excitement.

“No, no. It’s about me and my magic…” She trailed off, unsure how to bring the topic up.

“Okay, so what seems to be the problem? I thought we were doing much better on the emotional zen and processing area?” He said, referring to how the princess was practicing and still being open about her emotions to handle them properly.

“We are… It’s just that my magic and dress are reacting oddly and Naomi had a theory and I just wanted to confirm that my magic wasn’t just acting up and that it really wasn’t what she thought it was and-” The princess kept nervously spilling over and over, her words going on a tangent.

“Woah there. Slow down now. First off, what is going on?” Zuzo said motioning her to breathe in and out.

"It's Mateo. My magic is acting up around him and I can't seem to fix it! I can only avoid him so much and I don't want to really do that either." She said in frustration.

Zuzo had a look of excitement, "Oh my gosh did it finally happen?? Princess, did you and Mateo finally confess?! Why wasn't I aware of this sooner?" He said flying right by her shoulder and leaning on his hands.

Elena was confused, "Confess? What are you talking about?"

"You know, confess your feelings? Tell each other you care? All that lovely stuff people share with someone they love. Oh it gets me giddy just thinking about it." Zuzo said, magical hearts materializing around him.

"What?! No! W-Why would we do that?!" Elena gasped.

"It doesn't really take a magical spirit guide to realize you two have a serious case of the heart eyes for each other." He stated floating upside as Elena's face changed emotions rapidly.

Elena stumbled over her words, stuttering at what the spirit was implying. Mateo and her liked each other? And it was obvious? It sure wasn't obvious to her! Did he already know? Had Mateo told Zuzo? But they were friends, wouldn't this change everything?

"Alright, I'm going to take it you didn't know. Deep breaths Elena, let's not try and destroy half the palace okay?" The fox spirit said flying close to her face.

"Let's work on breathing normally and then how about we have a chat okay? What do you say; spirit guide to magical princess?"

Elena could only nod as she worked on relaxing herself as much as she could.

"I mean I was devastated seeing him in such a rough state when Alacazar passed. Like it literally felt like my heart was ripping apart as he cried. I just wanted him to be alright. And when he showed up despite everything and stood by my side against Ashe and Esteban… I was so incredibly proud. Zuzo you should have seen him! He was amazing! And then when we went back to the secret library and he changed to his new robes… I-I didn't know what to really say…" Elena spilled as she stuffed her face periodically with chocolate.

Zuzo sat on a magical couch and was taking notes of all the princess' words. "Uh huh. Well would you say you were hurt because he was hurting and you would have done anything to help him? Oh and that later you were then blinded by his ruggish handsome demeanor?" He said while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Zuzo! This is serious! This is Mateo! My best friend. Our royal wizard. I can’t be ‘heart eyes' for him!" Elena exclaimed staring down the spirit guide.

The couch and notepad poofed away as Zuzo spoke again, "Hey hey Princess, keep it calm. Don't get too worked up here. Is it really that bad to have more than friend feelings? Especially for our pal Mateo?"

Elena pondered the thought. Mateo was a wonderful soul. He had a beautiful heart and a loyal soul. When she looks at Mateo in the eyes, she knows she can trust him no matter what. He has proven time and time again to be by her side and works hard to be the best friend he can. The level of support he offers her is unparalleled. Through the good and bad, he's always there to offer a shoulder to lean on or strength to share. So maybe it wasn’t that big a surprise, or even that big of a deal that she was now seeing those things in a different light?

“I-I guess not…. Oh my gosh Zuzo… I like Mateo!” She said out loud and her dress flashed between purple, pink, and yellow.

Zuzo watched the rainbow display play out before him and smiled. His spirit guide wisdom and intuition really did see this coming since day one, but he was glad that the princess was able to come to terms with everything finally. After all, Elena was the only one who hadn’t yet.

Zuzo thought back to the times where Mateo had poured his heart to him and his own spirit guide in the hopes of receiving wisdom and guidance with his own feelings. It was a heartwarming display truthfully and they had helped him find deeper confidence within himself and emotions. The young wizard had doubted his worth in comparison to what he thought Elena deserved, but they had quickly reminded him of all he was. Mateo was a rare soul and so was Elena. They were not perfect, but they deserved each other and happiness. Zuzo would take a seat back and watch as the stars would align at the right time and sparks would fly between the two, as he always knew it would.

#elena of avalor #elena #eleteo #elena castillo flores #mateo #mateo de alva #fanfic #romance

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galacticcannibalism · 4 years

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Of Assassins and Hearts Ch. 7

.Beta’d by the ALWAYS amazing @arrow-guy and @thinkwritexpress-official.

So this one time (maybe) I’m posting my fic here. So under the cut is chapter 7. The rest of the chapters are up on AO3 just follow the link.

Word count: 2388

Rating: MATURE

Summary: He stood and walked around you to the desk, rummaging around for a second before appearing in front of you again, scissors in hand. He made quick work of the ziptie and you stood quickly, crashing into him. He caught you and held you in his arms while you sagged against him in relief, his grasp loose for a minute before he shifted his grip to your good hand and pulled you out of the office. You took a few steps before the world shifted and went dark.

Of Asssassins and Hearts Chapter 7 Truth or Consequences

You watched in horror as Max’s mouth came closer to yours. You tried to turn your head but his grip on your chin kept you firmly in place. You struggled against the ziptie holding you to the chair, fought until his mouth was a hair's breadth away. You looked skyward, refusing to watch his face descend on yours. Your skyward gaze found deep hazel eyes staring back at you. You relaxed in Max’s grip, causing him to stop mid-motion, confused.

“You have a visitor,” you told him, nodding over his shoulder.

He dropped your chin and turned just as Kylo cocked back his fist to strike him. The blow met Max’s face with a sickening crunch and threw him onto your lap, onto your ruined hand. You shrieked in pain and bucked under him, trying to free your body from under him. Max hit the floor with a thud and Kylo lashed out with a well-placed kick to the gut. You couldn’t hear his voice in your head anymore, but you could read the expression of fury on Kylo’s face as he kicked Max repeatedly.

Don’t let him do this to me, Max pleaded in your head.

“Why should I stop him?”

Because I love you. Because we belong together, he answered.

“You’re a sick bastard,” you snarled at him.

I wish you were dead, you spat.

Max looked at you just as Kylo delivered a final devastating blow to his face, silencing Max’s thoughts in your head. Kylo dropped his hand and stood dazed for just a moment before shaking himself and looking at you.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.

“I am so far from okay,” you answered, gesturing with your ziptied hand.

Kylo kicked Max’s body out of the way before kneeling to look at the ziptie.

“Need to cut this.”

Kylo spotted the silver knife on the floor and grabbed it, bringing it to your wrist, but you flinched away from the blade.

“Hold still or I’ll hurt you,” he huffed.

“Not that. Please,” you pleaded. “Scissors in the desk drawer.”

Kylo dropped the knife with a metallic clatter, making you flinch again.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

He stood and walked around you to the desk, rummaging around for a second before appearing in front of you again, scissors in hand. He made quick work of the ziptie and you stood quickly, crashing into him. He caught you and held you in his arms while you sagged against him in relief, his grasp loose for a minute before he shifted his grip to your good hand and pulled you out of the office. You took a few steps before the world shifted and went dark.

Words floated to you, words you couldn’t understand at first and a voice you vaguely knew.

“ You look like an angel, you walk like an angel, talk like an angel, but I got wise,” Kylo sang softly under his breath.

You laughed and opened your eyes as Kylo’s worried face came into view.

“You scared the hell outta me Y/N,” Kylo scolded you.

His scolding made you laugh harder.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You’re like a mother hen fussing over me,” you said.

“Nobody has ever called me mother before,” he said in a tone that sounded strangely like a pout.

The tone set off your laughter again. You laughed until tears streamed down your face, until you couldn’t breathe.

“Where am I,” you asked after you caught your breath.

Kylo sat on the bed beside you, taking your hand gently in his.

“You’re in the hospital,” he said grimly. “Max. He, well… he broke your hand and you needed stitches in your wrist and in a few different parts of your hand.”

You glanced to your side then, suddenly conscious of the fact you couldn’t really feel your hand or arm. You lifted your arm and found a neon pink cast enveloping your hand all the way to your elbow. You opened your mouth to say something when a doctor bustled into the room, breaking off whatever your thought was.

“I’m Doctor Sylvia Everhart. Now that you’re awake, I’d like to ask you a few questions,” she said politely but firmly.

You looked over the woman in front of you. She is model beautiful, somebody you’d expect to be working a runway not in a hospital. Her red hair was caught in a tight bun at the base of her neck and pale skin said she was of Irish descent. She sat her clipboard at the end of the bed and started her questioning.

“Do you know this man?” she asked, gesturing to Kylo.

“Yes.”

“Do you feel safe at home and at work?”

“Not anymore.”

“Can you tell me who did this to you?”

“Max Moreau.”

At the name Sylvia paled and staggered away from you, stumbling backward until her back hit the closed door.

“Max sent you here, didn’t he? I’m calling the police,” Sylvia said, voice raised but not quite yelling, “Tell him to stay the hell away from me!”

“Didn’t you hear her? She said Max did this to her,” Kylo said from beside you.

“Max did this to you? He didn’t send you?”

You nodded and Sylvia walked toward the bed cautiously, still out of reach but close enough to talk. You tried to look non threatening, hoping she would relax. Kylo sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your hand into one of his larger one swallowing your fingers.

“How do you know Max?” Sylvia asked after taking a deep breath.

“According to Max I met him shortly after his original Soulmate rejected him,” you said.

“After I rejected him,” Sylvia asked with a bitter laugh. “I only rejected him because he is fucking insane.”

“He was my friend. We hung out, he sold me work supplies, everything. And then I met my soulmate,” you said.

Kylo gave your hand a gentle squeeze and you started to recount your story to Sylvia. You left nothing out, giving all the details. After telling her about slamming your hand in the door, Syliva collapsed on the end of the bed looking green, but by the time you finished your story ending with waking up in a hospital bed she had composed herself.

“I met Max at a party. He seemed like a fun guy, making jokes and making everybody laugh. We even exchanged numbers. I just wanted to be friends though, because I had a boyfriend,” Sylvia said, voice small. “A few hours later the mark appeared. A beautiful Soulmate mark.”

Sylvia rolled up her sleeve to show a beautiful shattered rose tattooed on her arm bisected by a nasty raised scar. After a few seconds she rolled her sleeve back down, hiding the tattoo with its unseemly scar.

“I dumped my boyfriend and started a relationship with Max; it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, he was my soulmate after all. But when I moved in with him, things changed.”

She stood and started pacing while the story seemed to fall from her like a weight she could finally shrug off. You didn’t interrupt, knowing if you did you’d never hear the end of the story. Her story.

“Max got obsessive. He’d call and text and email constantly. He wanted my phone records and for me to send him my location at certain times, and God help me if I forgot. He never hit me, but he’d berate me and bemoan how he ended up with such a shitty soulmate. In front of my friends though, he was a nice guy. Always a nice guy. Pulling out chairs, paying compliments, paying for rounds of drinks, always ready and able to help. But me, I got to see the dark side.”

Sylvia took her seat at the end of the bed.

“I broke up with him. After 8 months of his gaslighting and insane demands. He said I was doing it because I was more concerned about money and I was cheating on him. He told me I was gonna regret breaking up with him,” she said while she absently rubbed her arm. “Then it happened roughly 2 weeks later, a searing pain like my soul was being cleaved from my body. When I recovered, my soulmate mark was scarred. I went to see Max to see if he was alright and that's when he told me what he had done. He had broken our bond. He gloated about it. I told him he’d ruined my life and broke my soul but he didn’t care. That was the last time I spoke to him.”

Sylvia finished her story and sagged with relief. You pulled your hand from Kylo’s and offered it to her, a gesture of solidarity, of connection and gratitude. She squeezed your hand gently, and while you watched she pulled herself together her professional attitude firmly back in place.

“Do you think he is going to come back or attempt to hurt you again,” Sylvia asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he knows we are here.”

Almost as if talking about him conjured him, his voice rang out in your head leaving you feeling grimey.

Tell me where you are so I can finish the ritual and we can be together, he pleaded voice sweet.

Fuck off, you answered back venomously.

You’re hurt. I can help you, he said, his voice still sweet.

You cleared your mind and focused on your favorite German metal song. hoping to keep him out of your head, and after a few seconds you were able to relax.

“Where’d you go,” Kylo asked, concerned.

“I hear Max in my head.”

“Does that mean he knows where we are? Does that mean we aren’t soulmates anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about that tattoo he put on you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t fucking know Kylo, there is a lot going on,” you snapped at him, instantly regretting it.

His face shut down and he stood abruptly, leaving the room; you cursed yourself as you watched him go. It wasn’t his fault this had happened; the blame was squarely on Max and his obsession.

“I should go. If you need anything, just hit the call button,” Sylvia said before leaving the room too.

You pulled your knees to your chest thoughts raging through you.

I didn’t mean to snap at Kylo, it just sort of happened. And it’ll keep happening unless I go back to Max, he loves me, him breaking my hand was a terrible mistake.

You shook your head, knowing that last thought wasn’t yours.

How can you be sure?

You shook your head again trying to clear your thoughts. You needed to leave this hospital, it was making you crazy.

I know where you are now, Max’s voice came breaking the wall of music.

How the hell did you do that, You demanded.

I taught you that trick sweetheart, do you really think something like that would stop me?

You started to panic. Max was in your head and you didn’t know how to keep him out. You started to climb off the bed and Kylo burst into the room.

“Are you okay,” he asked breathless.

“We need to leave, he is coming,” you told him, tears pricking your eyes.

He pulled you into his arms and held you tight to him.

I won’t let him hurt you again, His words whispered through your head so soft you almost missed them.

“What did you just say?”

“I didn’t say anything,” he answered in confusion.

You couldn’t say anything before Sylvia burst into the room.

“He’s here. How did he know you were here?”

A commotion from the hallway had your head snapping toward the door. You could hear Max as he berated someone for not telling him where you are.

Where are you little bird, he asked, voice dark.

“We need to leave now,” Kylo said.

Sylvia tossed a bottle of pills at you, Kylo caught it before it reached you and she walked to the door.

“For pain. I’ll distract him you get out of here,” She said, leaving the room and closing the door with a snick.

You looked down at your hospital gown and Kylo shrugged off his leather jacket, placing it around your shoulders. He grasped your hand in his and pulled you out the door while you listened to Sylvia yell at Max. A voice you recognised breaking into the argument but before you could place it, Kylo pulled you into a stairwell.

“My brother is coming to pick us up, he'll be here soon,” Kylo told you, pulling you down the stairs at a punishing pace.

“You have a brother?”

“He’s adopted.”

You nodded but didn’t speak again. Kylo pulled you out of a door and onto a curb where an orange Dodge Challenger with white stripes screeched to a halt. A dark-haired man leaned across the passenger seat and shoved the door open. Kylo reached in and pushed the seat forward, ushering you into the backseat. You climbed in and the man let out a low whistle.

“Poe Dameron, and you are,” he asked, extending a hand into the backseat while Kylo climbed in the front seat.

“Y/N,” you replied, taking his hand and shaking it.

“You are entirely too cute for my brother,” He told you, flashing you a wink.

“Stop it,” Kylo growled.

You laughed and leaned in back in the seat as Poe peeled out.

“You’re spending the night at my place tonight then going up to the cabin right?” Poe asked.

Kylo nodded. You leaned back in the seat and thought quietly. Maybe a few days away from everything would be enough to get your life settled down and this mark from Max off your arm. You rolled up your sleeve and looked at it. It wasn’t very old, but the marks looked like they had aged years. You closed your eyes and a tear slid down your cheek.

“Everything is gonna be okay, I promise,” Kylo told you.

You settled further into your seat and let the motion of the car lull you to sleep.

Things will be better when I wake up.

I’ll look after you, I promise, Kylo’s voice whispered through your head.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #Of Assassins and Hearts #Star Wars Fan Fic #reader insert

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rosecolouredash · 5 years

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Wildflower ; Hockey!Calum

Summary: “Wildflowers - I envy them. They’re brave. Seeds cast by the wind to land where they may. They stand. They hold against most hot, most cold. They persevere. Roots shallow yet fierce and free. They epitomize to me all that I sometimes yearn to be.” — Julie Andrews

Warnings: Me being back to my soft bullshit.

Notes: This is dedicated to my fellow team soft ™️ member @calpops I hope I do your ex-figure skating heart justice ♥️

Calum stepped away from the world of hockey a long time ago. His only connection to the sport being his three best friends who still played at their college. If you asked him, he wouldn’t be able to tell you when the last time he even skated was.

Which explained his current disdain for being at the local ice arena.

Luke explained to Ashton, Calum and Michael that you were a former rinkmate of his.

To the surprise of most, the blond’s beginnings on skates weren’t always with a hockey stick in hand. Rather, quite the opposite. Luke’s passion on the ice started with elaborate costumes, classical music and choreographed routines.

When he left the figure skating club, to join the hockey team, the two of you remained close friends throughout the years.

For once, a hockey game nor practice didn’t coincide so he decided to finally bring the boys along to one of your competitions.

Though Calum’s general interest in ice-related activities was lost, he was curious to meet the person that Luke so fondly talked about.

Michael and Ashton too, thought the latter.

When they settled into available seats, the announcer’s voice rang over the intercom to signal the start of the competition.

“I reckon you lads will really enjoy this,” Luke stated, while he watched you skate onto the ice for warm up. He looked towards the boys while two of which turned their attention towards the rink. Luke’s stare lingered on his dark-haired friend, who was on his phone and a discreet smile made its way on his face.

Some more than others.

—

You walked to the edge of the rink and handed your skate guards to your coach. You took a breath and made your first stride on the ice.

The sound of your blade cutting through the frozen surface was oddly comforting.

You quickly went through your compulsories and slid out of a figure eight. Then, you skated across the ice to build momentum. When you spun into the air - a triple lutz - you landed on one skate; your other leg and arms extended out in a fluid motion.

In the stands, you noticed movement in your peripheral. You slid through your step sequence and looked up to find the blond curls of your friend, Luke, his arm up as he waved at you.

You returned the gesture and noticed three other boys, seated to his immediate left.

The wave was reciprocated by all but one of the foursome.

Once you skated closer to the center of the ice, you took off again - triple axel, double loop. You felt every nuance of the combination. It felt good.

When your coach beckoned you back to the edge of the rink, you stole a glance towards Luke and his friends. While you drank from your water bottle, your eyes went over to the handsome boy, with soft dark curls and wasn’t on his phone anymore.

He was now watching you, intently.

Coach passed your skate guards over the wall. “You look excellent out there.”

You thanked him and got off the ice.

Brown eyes followed your every move as you left with your coach to the waiting area for skaters.

—

When they announced your name, Luke let out a loud whoop and applause.

Calum watched as you took to the ice and skated to a stop once you reached the middle of the rink. There was brief period of silence when music filtered through the speakers.

He was mesmerized by your choreographic sequence. Your movements were gentle and slow; fitted to the melody of the piano in the song.

Calum watched as you approached your first combination, or so he was told by the blond who mumbled next to him; a double axel and triple toe loop.

He watched with bated breath as you took off from the ice and landed clean on your outside edge.

As you twirled, the various shades of your violet costume melted together. Your body was ethereal and appeared like a flower in full bloom on the frozen surface of the rink.

Double lutz. Triple flip. Triple lutz into a triple salchow.

When Calum saw you rise from your spin - a butterfly spin, Luke commented - he was, again, captivated by you and your step sequence.

There was something heartfelt about your routine. So much so, that it made the dark-haired boy feel hopeful. About what? He wasn’t so sure.

Just yet.

Calum continued to watch, his breath caught again as the music reached its last crescendo. His heart raced and a feeling that he’d nearly forgotten resonated at his core.

He’d recognized it as your routine came to a close and you gave a glorious bow - Calum wanted to skate again.

—

“Lu!”

You greeted the blond and jumped into his open arms. He caught your body and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you so much for coming,” you said, as he pulled back and held you at arms length.

He grinned. “You were amazing.”

You expressed your gratitude to his kind words when you were suddenly aware of three boys, the ones that sat with Luke at the competition, who stood off to side and allowed your reunion.

Luke brought you over to the trio and gave introductions that were long overdue.

You fell into amicable pleasantries when one of the boys spoke out.

“Hey, sorry about the shit scores,” the one with the pink hair, Michael, started. “Not sure what the judges were watching but I definitely thought you’d make top three.”

You gave him a smile of appreciation. You were going into the next day’s competition in fifth place. “S’all right. I skate the free program tomorrow so I still have a chance to place.”

“You have to do that, again?” The brunet with the coif, Ashton, asked.

You giggled at his confusion and explained that you were to skate a whole different routine; one that was much longer than the one they’d just seen.

That set off another round of questions from the two.

Luke scoffed, hockey players through and through, he thought.

Even though they’d known him when he was still a figure skater, they hadn’t retained any knowledge, apparently.

He ran his fingers through his curls and watched as you got along with the duo. Luke then noticed the brooding individual who had yet to speak.

“Hey Cal, what did you think?”

Michael and Ashton paused their conversation with you.

Calum hummed, turning towards his tall friend.

“What did you think of the routine?”

“It was—“ Calum looked over to you.

You almost held your breath, in anticipation.

“—good.”

When you looked up at Calum, the rest of the boys stepped behind you. Out of view, they motioned for there friend to continue.

“I, uh, mean—really good?”

Luke rolled his eyes.

He’d witnessed the look on Calum’s face while he watched you skate. Something had changed in his best friend, for the better and he’d be damned if he didn’t give Cal the push he needed.

Then the blond had a brilliant idea.

“So we’ve got an away game tomorrow. We’re going to be out of town,” Luke spoke, in apology.

You reassured him that it was ok, especially since he came to support you, today.

“But Calum can attend to cheer you on.”

Ashton and Mike had caught on, immediately. They too saw how enthralled Calum was with you and your skating. So they agreed he should be there in their stead.

Calum didn’t mind the suggestion; intrigued in seeing you perform again.

You turned towards the dark-haired boy, “you don’t play hockey?” You assumed he did, with the rest of the boys; especially since their names were synonymous with hockey, every time you talked with Luke.

“Not anymore.” He replied, a slight frown on his face.

When Ashton swooped in, to change the subject, your mind continued to linger on the boy and the sadness in his voice, at the statement.

—

The next day, Calum held out a bouquet of white carnations and baby’s breath - at Luke’s request - towards you. It matched your outfit for today’s routine. That might have explained why his friend was so adamant on the particular flowers before he left for the away game.

“Thank you Calum! You shouldn’t have,” you beamed and smelled the sweet floral scent, the bouquet now cradled in your arms.

He technically didn’t but the smile that graced your face made his heart skip a beat. He was happy he followed through.

“Silver looks good on you,” he said as he eyed the medal around your neck. “But I bet gold would look better.”

For some reason, heat rushed to your cheeks at the comment. If anyone asked, you blamed it on not having recovered from your free program skate. You scored a personal best and it was enough to get you second place at the competition.

The two of you stood in a comfortable silence, as people rushed around you to depart from the arena.

When you opened your mouth to speak, Calum did the same. You both chuckled and encouraged the other to continue.

“You were...” Calum paused and tried to think of the right words. “You were really beautiful on the ice.” His face went red as the comment slipped from his lips.

“I mean, your skating was beautiful.” Wait. That wasn’t what he wanted to say either. “N-not saying that you aren’t beautiful.” Idiot. “Because you are!”

You could only stare at him, eyes wide. You smiled at your flowers and looked up at him through dark lashes. “You’re sweet.”

Calum let out a breath through his nose.

“Watching you today and yesterday. It reminded me of something I forgot,” he admitted and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It did?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he grinned, softly. “How much I miss skating.”

At the statement, your mind was made up. You grabbed Calum’s arm and dragged him back towards the entrance into the rink.

“Where are we going?” Though confused, he allowed you to pull him along.

You looked back at the boy, a wide grin on your face.

—

“Well are you going to come skate or what?” You teased.

The ice was now open to the public after the competition. Other couples littered the rink, as well as a family with two young children.

You were already on the ice and watched Calum, hesitant, at the edge of the rink with a pair of rented hockey skates on his feet. Once his blade hit the frozen surface, he pushed off and took long strides towards you.

If Calum thought you were beautiful while you skated, he was simply god-like. Completely unreal.

With years of skating prior, it was all in his muscle memory but also pure skill and talent. The power in which Calum put into each glide was awe-inspiring and admittedly, it made you a little weak in the knees.

“I can’t believe you haven’t skated in three years.” The two of you had found a pleasant pace at which you skated side-by-side around the perimeter of the rink.

“Can I ask why?”

Calum pondered at how to respond. He recounted his love for hockey growing up. How the sport had him meet his three best friends. He grew quiet when he shared that it was in their senior year of high school that he messed up during a game. Badly. He missed a shot on goal that cost them the championship that year.

“After that, any time I skated or even got close to a rink, I was haunted by that moment.” Calum looked over at you. “I was doing pretty well until Luke asked us to attend your competition with him.”

Bashfully, you grinned up at him.

“Can’t say I regret it though,” he smiled, serenely.

When he looked foreword, he saw one of the kids - a little boy with a hockey helmet - fall on the ice. He was immediately picked up by his parents.

“I saw something in the way you skated,” Calum started. You both waved at the young boy, him waving back, while you skated past. “You were confident and free.”

He paused, thoughtfully. “I want to get back to that.”

You absorbed everything you had just been told. Calum had just bared his heart and soul about a sport so different from yours but at its core was the same. You chose your words carefully and proposed, “ so why don’t you?”

—

Calum stood, on the ice, across twenty-something other boys. They were all dressed in the same uniform.

“Hi, I’m Calum Hood and I play on defense,” he started, eased by the reassuring smiles of his three best friends who stood before the group he addressed; front and center.

It was a couple of weeks after your skate with Calum that the boy found himself asking Ashton if there was any way he could join the college hockey team. Elated at the request, Ash made sure to figure something out. All the while, Calum hit the gym to train, condition and the rink to skate - sometimes with you.

As the captain, Ashton was able to pull enough strings to get Calum, at least, a tryout which he impressed the coaching staff at.

Now, at his first hockey practice after three years, he relished the feeling. It was great to be back.

He had you to thank for it, too.

And he’d do that, when he asked you out on a proper date.

Tagged: @irwinkitten @calpops @rosecoloredash @lilbabycalum @gorgeouslygrace @rainingcal @casht0n-hoodwin @lockthisheartinchains @americanhorrorstudies @lovableah

#ro writes #hockey!5sos #hockey!calum #hockey calum #hockey calum hood #hockey!au #calum hood imagine #calum hood oneshot #calum hood x reader #calum hood #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5 seconds of summer

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i-llbedammned · 5 years

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I ended up writing the Good Omens noir fic I talked about about before. I am excited and nervous as this is a hard pairing for me to feel like I am doing them justice. You can read it on Ao3 here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854631 I will also post it down here:

Light practically sparkled on the grey suit and fedora of one kindly Aziraphale, private eye. It was different being on this side of the pond. Yes, he knew that he could go anywhere in the universe but there was just something so comforting about London that kept him coming back to it. Instead he was here in New York City and even though it was better than dealing with the bombs and the Nazis directly there was something still colder in this city. The roving packs of gangs and the brusk way that everyone talked was just something so unsettling.

He wouldn’t even be here if it was not for a very important mission. Someone had stolen one of his books, you see and it was a first edition of a Charles Dickens novel that he just couldn’t bear to part with. Crowley had given that edition to him shortly after it was published, telling him that reading Dickens was akin to torture so he was really trying to plague him rather than give him a kind gift. The angel was grateful for it all the same.

“What’re’ you looking at?” snapped a man in a flat cap standing near a stoop.

“Oh, ah. Nothing.” Aziraphale gave him a small, brittle smile and quickly looked away.

“Oh I’m nothin’ then?” the man started following the angel, a sour look upon his face.

“I’m just looking for a book shop, I will be right out of your way. My apologies.” He said, looking aside at the man, who had moved to block his path.

“I think you owe me a bit of reparations for the insult sir.”

Oh no. Barely here and it was already leading to a fight. What did he ever do to this man?

“Sir, please just leave me alone and I will be on my way.” Aziraphale tried to move around him and the man stayed with him, blocking his path forward.

“I don’t think I will.” The sharp click of knife sounded from the man and Aziraphale held up his hands as the man brandished a knife.

“The man said he is done with you. Piss off.” Came a deep growl from beside him. A figure with long red hair and a slinky black dress strolled up beside Aziraphale with a swagger that was unmistakable.

“Listen lady, this ain’t none of you-“ the man’s cries were cut off in terror as he beheld the flash of yellow snake eyes and the sharp smell of smoke as his hat began to catch alight. Beating the flames out, the man dropped his knife and began to run in the opposite direction. Cat-eyed sunglasses were placed on her lovely eyes once more.

“Crowley, what are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked as the man fled, looking at his fellow immortal with gratitude. He could have solved the problem easily enough, but he hated having to evoke terror and do violent things. It just made him uncomfortable.

“Saving you, angel.” She drawled, with her eyebrows raised like it was a fairly obvious question.

“Oh of course." The angel grinned in an embarassed way, "Nice dress.” Aziraphale complimented sincerely, taking in her lovely red lipstick and the golden slither of the snake along her back. It really suited her hips and showed off her legs with the long slit up the side.

“Don’t stare too long, I’ll start to think you’re interested.” Crowley laughed as Aziraphale looked up, a small tinge of color staining his cheeks pink.

“I’m not-Not that you aren’t lovely, but it wouldn’t be right.” The white haired man stumbled over his words a bit before finally changing direction entirely, ”What I mean to say is have you seen a first edition Dickens book around?”

“First edition Dickens? You lost the first edition Dickens book?” Crowley backed up, looking hurt. The look almost broke Aziraphale’s heart on the spot.

“No! I didn’t lose it. It was stolen.” Aziraphale extended his arm and Crowley rested long black taloned fingers on the crook of his arm as they walked side by side, now returning to her default moody look. “The shop was broken into and I found a jacket made by an American tailor in New York with some dollars in it so I assumed it would be here.”

Crowley began to laugh, “So you just miracled yourself over here to look for a book?”

“Well there’s also a lovely Vaudeville show in town that I thought I might pop by and see once I found the book.” Aziraphale wove his way through the city streets, arm in arm with his companion following the strange sort of gut instinct that usually was divine providence at work. He was supposed to be going in this direction, he just knew it.

“Care for a little company for the show? I’m bored and could use something to excite me.” Crowley smirked as Aziraphale’s heart did an instinctual flutter and she laughed.

“Well I can’t promise it will be exciting but-“Aziraphale paused, looking at the window of a bookshop in an alleyway. There it was, his Dickens book on display.

Without a further word he strode into the bookshop. A nasally voice answered his as a tall man with glasses glare at him, “I’m sorry, sir. We are closed.”

“Where did you get that book in the front window?” He demanded.

“It’s from our international shipments, but I told you it’s not for sale. Now scram!” The man spoke in pinched tones, exchanging glances with the other men in the room. All of them looked far too scarred and muscled to be book dealers.

“But that’s my book!” He protested loudly, indignant that these mortals would have the gall to both take his book and then refuse to give it back.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure it is.” A large man with shoulders twice Aziraphale’s width started shouldering him through the door, flinging him to the opposing wall. He could have resisted, but he chose not to. Really. “And don’t come back!” the man yelled after him.

“Oh bother!” he mumbled, picking up his silver fedora and looking ruefully at the door he had just been flung out of. Wait a second, Crowley never followed him out of the door!

Through the glass he could see Crowley slink forward, with all of the men’s eyes upon her hips and chest. He could not make out the words that were being said, but they appeared to be getting into an argument over it, bickering amongst each other as Crowley made flirtatious facial expressions at the big man who had thrown the angel out.

Wait! From behind the counter Aziraphale could see a man raising a gun towards Crowley’s back. The other men appeared to also be drawing up their various weapons as the conversation got more and more heated. Oh no, if that his her she would most certainly be discoporated for a period of time. That would never do. Aziraphale channeled his energies towards Crowley and with a small miracle, the bullets missed her as they flew about the shop knocking the other men dead.

As the various tough guys fell over from their various wounds, Crowley grabbed the book and walked out. “Was all that violence your doing?” Aziraphale tried to look away from all the death and violence, cringing at the thought of it.

“I wish. It certainly would boost my hellish numbers." Crowley looked mock disappointed, "Alas it was just a bunch of normal human violence though.”

“A pity on all accounts then.” Aziraphale sincerely mourned.

“Now what about that show?” Crowley asked, snapping her long black nails as a ripple of power waved over the City that Never Sleeps. “I think a private box just opened up for us.”

The box seat was lovely with red velvet seats and curtain to close them off from the world should they so choose. It just so happened that everyone who was supposed to have those seats got food poisoning and would be quite unable to attend that night. Poor things.

Aziraphale and Crowley sat next to each other, their arms barely touching.

“Angel, I do believe I owe you something,” Crowley whispered into his companion’s ear as on stage they did some sort of clown act.

“Whatever do you mean?” He responded, turning away from the act to face Crowley. Her face was very close to his all of a sudden, her heavy grey shadowed eye lids and full red lips standing out against the pale of her face in the darkness.

“You saved my life back there, don’t think I didn’t notice.” She grinned at him, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were falling a bit for me.”

“Oh not falling. Never that. But I didn’t want to see you discorporated.” Aziraphale smiled.

“You’re not falling, not even a little?” Crowley’s hands stroked Aziraphale’s arm, tracing patterns on his suit jacket.

The angel swallowed hard as his nerves began to pound, “I’m not sure this is a good idea, my dear. They could be watching us you know.”

“You know, no one can see us here.” Crowley whispered into the angel’s ear, nipping at his lobes with her teeth sending a shiver through his body. He made no effort to pull away from her actions, “And if someone was going to stop us from above, they damn well would have by now. What’s say we really enjoy the show?” “What do you have in mind?” Even though angels were not supposed to enjoy this type of behavior, Aziraphale had allowed himself to be drawn into Crowley’s actions time and time again. After all, he could just blame it on the demon should he ever be brought up by his superiors and claim that he had some sort of magic used on him.

“I ride you til neither of us can move in this dark little box while the clowns play below.” Crowley’s lips had moved to his neck and were beginning to kiss it slowly, licking along the path of the neck. Her fingers loosened his tie so she could better reach his neck.

Aziraphale cast an eye at the show below. It didn’t appear that this show was exactly the type of high art that he was going to truly enjoy as they did yet another slapstick routine. With one hand he lifted Crowley’s face to meet his, pressing his lips gently to hers as he undid his tie fully with his other hand. She moaned softly, abandoning her seat to sit on his lap.

With a flick of his fingers Aziraphale closed the curtains, throwing his hat to the ground. He ran his hands along the black satin of the demon’s dress, tracing soft swirls along her back. Crowley snapped her fingers and suddenly there was a change in her and Aziraphale’s bodies. The angel felt a quivering starting in his loins where previous to that he had been just as sexless as the day he was born.

Instincts took over as Crowley straddled Aziraphale, now kissing him deeply and letting her forked tongue explore his mouth. He responded back in kind, running his hands over every bit of skin he could reach along her back. The angel wondered which set of human sexes they had been granted this time, excited to try something new. This was all so public, even though no one was watching them from the darkness. He felt his own begin to rise as Crowley rolled her hips aggressively over him. Biting his neck rough enough to bruise. Pain, just the right amount sent a wonderful shudder through him. His hands wound underneath her skirt, feeling the garters and silk panties that were beyond her stockings.

Nothing was there to rise, feeling over the mound there. Good to know. Aziraphale unhooked her garters to let her stockings fall to the wayside and unclipped the belt they were attached to.

“Oh angel, the things I will do to you. Tell me, how much do you want me?” Crowley whispered furtively, her breath becoming thick with lust. Her forked tongue flickered out of her mouth.

“I want you more than I want to actually read the Dickens book that we saved today. More than an actor wants attention.” The grinding was doing its job and Aziraphale could feel his cock stiff against the suit pants. White hot need burned in the pit of his gut. He covered the demons mouth with his, reaching under her skirts to stroke at her clit through the underwear.

He needed release and he needed it soon. The pressure that was building up within him was going to be too intense and soon he would be able to bear it no longer. Crowley was relentless, unbuttoning the fly of Aziraphale’s pants and pulling them down just enough that the long length of his newfound cock could be released from within after a quick tug took down the underwear. With a decisive hand, Crowley reached under her skirt to peel the high waistband downward on her own underwear. A flick of the wrist sent it flying.

“How much do you want me again, angel?” She purred, as his fingers worked a steady pulsing rhythm on her clit.

“I swear, I will explode right here if I don’t get a chance to bed you immediately,” Aziraphale moaned as the demon’s fingers slowly ran up and down his shaft, his cock twitching in her hands helplessly.

“Oh but what is in it for me?” She guided his fingers towards her opening, putting in one of his fingers, followed by a second.

“I will make you feel…pleasant?” Aziraphale blanked, the length of his dirty talk coming to an end and just knowing that he wanted to feel her upon his lap riding him right now. To feel her breath on his neck hitch and her whimper as she struggled not to scream in the middle of the theater. “Please, I don’t have words for it, but I’ll show you.”

“Oh close enough, angel.” Crowley conceded, climbing on top of him once more and thrusting his length roughly into her. Her hips rolled and it was Aziraphale who had to fight back the urge to scream. To muffle himself he flew forward, pressing his lips into her neck and his hands into her hips. He felt her rump as she moved and undulated for a moment before she moved one of his hands to move down her dress. Soft breasts met his hands and the angel moved his fingers underneath the bra to massage them as they rolled together.

Crowley’s breath became more strained as she moaned, “Teeth. Bite me angel. On the neck. As hard as you can.”

“But won’t I hurt you?” Concern flashed across Aziraphale’s face.

“Yes, that is the point.” She growled, her hips moving faster and faster til he felt like he was about to explode.

Aziraphale obeyed the orders gratefully, biting her hard enough to bruise on the right side of her neck as he felt the sharp wave of an orgasm wash over him. Crowley’s body tensed him as he bit and she whimpered into his ear as she rode him hard.

That was not to be the end, mind you. The cycle continued three more times, til both of them felt exhausted and were very done being human and messy. With a flick of her talons, Crowley dismissed the sexual organs. Aziraphale focused very hard and they were both in a bedroom, a familiar bedroom that was draped in black.

“All the way in London, angel?” Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale’s neck as the angel laid down next to her on the bed. They could have miracled off their clothes, but even that felt like too much of an effort after the show they had just put on. They were cleaned up and that was really what mattered. And he had his book, which was promptly placed

“Well I wasn’t going to sleep in New York. It’s the City that Never Sleeps after all.” Aziraphale joked, feeling his eyelids be awful and heavy. With drowsy hands he moved the covers over both of them, glad that Crowley had invested in soft blankets despite the fact that both of them only slept as a hobby.

“Remind me to yell at you for that joke when we wake up,” mumbled Crowley, nesting closer to his angel. Aziraphale certainly didn’t mind considering how warm he was.

“I still wonder how they got my book.” Aziraphale queried as he draped his arms around the lovely demon in front of him.

“Oh that. Right. I arranged it. Figured it would be a good way to get you in the Vaudeville show and actually in New York. You’d never go to New York otherwise.” Crowley mumbled as Aziraphale nuzzled her ginger hair.

“Oh that’s wicked.” Aziraphale answered, but without any venom to his voice.

Crowley smirked, lazy and satisfied, “It worked didn’t it?”

The angel demurred softly as they both drifted off to sleep, the sound of bombs echoing in the London skies.

#good omens #fanfic #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #female crowley

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