Tumgik
#white and colored people kids were refused to be allowed to play together
clownishh · 3 years
Text
U ask me how I know a person is white tm based on their blog. They have something along the lines of 'the pinnacle of discrimination that poc experienced in history was that white people refused to mingle with them' as if I want ur pasty white ass near me
0 notes
burnedbyshoto · 3 years
Text
indulge me
Tumblr media
indulge me: an arrangement
— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space
word count: 13,547
a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.
First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 
There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’
You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.
Sex sucked.
But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!
Audios were better.
Words were best.
But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.
“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”
“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”
He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.
“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”
You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.
“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”
Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.
So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.
You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.
The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.
The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.
The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.
And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.
What was a girl to do?
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 
Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.
To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.
This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.
‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’
Solid.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.
You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!
“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 
You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.
It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.
Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.
Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 
Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.
Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 
He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —
“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.
Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!
NO!
“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”
Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.
“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.
Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.
“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”
Nailed it.
Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 
“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”
“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”
“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”
You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.
It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.
You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.
“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 
“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”
You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.
“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”
“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”
“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.
His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.
Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”
Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 
Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 
But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.
“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”
Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 
You wonder who you were gonna get.
“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.
You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.
Oh boy.
“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”
“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”
“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”
“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”
You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.
Y/l/n, Todoroki S.
“Would you look at that.”
“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.
“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”
“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”
A smile.
“That’s perfect.”
And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”
“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”
Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!
Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.
He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.
“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.
“I believe so!”
And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.
The paper itself isn’t that hard.
It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.
“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”
“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”
“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”
“Dark.”
“You know it.”
“I’ll avenge you.”
“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”
Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.
Incoming call from: dd.
“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”
.
Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.
Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.
He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.
Weird.
The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.
Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 
Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.
Was testing products on your own a thing people did?
Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—
“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.
Oh.
Ohh fuck.
.
.
.
“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”
“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”
You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.
A fucking poser at best.
Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.
“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”
Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”
You smile, slightly embarrassed. 
“That’s true, um—”
“I think it’s time—”
The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”
Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”
“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”
Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”
You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.
Jesus Christ.
.
.
Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.
ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”
...Interesting.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 
You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.
Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.
You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.
There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.
The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’
But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 
Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.
The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.
You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
“Do you want a sticker?”
That was the beginning of it all.
You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 
“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”
It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.
Fuck.
Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.
You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”
You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 
“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.
“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.
“What?!”
“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.
“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.
You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.
“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.
“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.
“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”
You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.
“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”
“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”
“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”
The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.
But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 
He would not embarrass you.
He would not.
“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 
If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”
There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.
There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 
You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”
“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.
“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”
Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”
You blink.
“Eh?!”
“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”
He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.
“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 
Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!
“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”
Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 
“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”
You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.
“Let me know.”
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]
Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]
You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]
Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]
You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]
Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
It has been two months since the contract was signed.
Two months.
Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 
It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.
“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”
“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 
“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”
You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.
“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.
“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”
There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.
“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.
Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.
Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.
“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.
.
.
He was so good to you.
So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.
He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.
It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.
It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.
The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.
Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 
You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.
“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.
Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.
But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.
You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 
You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.
“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 
“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.
Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 
“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.
You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!
“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 
Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.
“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 
It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 
Well, you try to, that is.
Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.
 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”
The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).
You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.
“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”
There was no way you would cave.
“Two.”
The silence between the two of you was heavy.
“One.”
Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.
“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.
You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.
“No!”
“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”
“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”
“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”
“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.
“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”
“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”
“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”
“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”
The effect is evident and instant.
Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.
“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”
“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”
A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 
“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”
There’s a shift in the air.
“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”
“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 
“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”
You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 
“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”
The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!
“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”
Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.
“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”
“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”
A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.
“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”
You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 
His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 
“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”
You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.
“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”
“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”
Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 
“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”
SLAP.
“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.
Fuck, you wanted this.
THWACK.
“Again.”
THWACK.
“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”
SPANK.
“O-One, thank you, daddy!”
WHACK!
You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.
“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”
You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.
You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.
There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 
“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.
“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”
You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!
“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”
His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 
There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.
Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 
Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”
Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.
Shouto took notice and hummed contently.
“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”
You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.
“One.”
Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.
“Two.”
Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.
“Three… four…”
Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.
“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”
You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.
“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”
You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.
“Ten.”
Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 
“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”
Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.
“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”
“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 
Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.
“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”
You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.
“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.
You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.
“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.
He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 
Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.
Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.
“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”
You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.
Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.
You shudder.
“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”
“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”
“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”
Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 
You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.
“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.
“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 
“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.
With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.
Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.
“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 
“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”
“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.
“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”
“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”
You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.
“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”
His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.
Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.
“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.
“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.
On your clit.
“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”
It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.
“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”
Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.
“What do you want, sunshine?”
“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”
“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”
You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”
“Was it—?”
Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 
It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.
“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”
“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 
“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”
“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 
You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.
“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”
“In me?”
“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”
You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.
“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”
Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.
“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”
You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”
“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”
And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.
“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”
“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”
“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”
“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.
“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 
Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 
“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”
His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 
But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.
“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”
“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”
“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”
“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 
His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 
It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 
Intensifying. 
Exhilarating. 
The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.
You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.
“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”
“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 
A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 
His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.
You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.
.
.
.
You open your eyes to a dark room.
Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”
Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”
You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.
“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”
You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.
“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.
“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.
“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”
You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.
“I thought I was the only one.”
.
.
.
“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.
“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.
“Look!”
Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.
“Is that—?!”
“YES!!!”
“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”
“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”
Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”
There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 
Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”
1K notes · View notes
gravityunforgiven · 3 years
Text
Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)
Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade, Dan Kato x Tsunade
Synopsis:
She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?
...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?
Tumblr media
Chapter Two
In the next few years, Akira proved herself to be a little firecracker. She had captured the hearts of those who surrounded her almost immediately. Tsunade’s days became a little brighter due to the presence of her little one, she became her world. But still, Dan’s death loomed over her like a shadow. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he was supposed to be here, how they should be raising their child together instead of on her own. She could see him in their child every single day especially in her eyes, the eyes that Dan gave her. It was so much like his that she could almost imagine Dan staring right back at her.
And even in her disposition she could see bits of Dan mixed with her own. Akira’s character was what a person could call a perfect combination of her parents. She was normally a calm and laidback personality and even as a child she was selfless and kind to others but she could also be impatient at times and prone to rule-breaking a little more than Tsunade wanted to admit.
Everyday Akira radiated happiness to the people around her. Tsunade had hoped that her daughter would remain a civillian. That she would have a normal life inside the walls of the village, never having to know the cruelness of the shinobi world. She wanted her daughter to be protected more than anything in the world. Even Jiraiya who remained put for the first year of Akira’s life, shared Tsunade’s wishes but their hopes were all too soon shattered.
Even at only a few months old, Akira’s abilities were already starting to show itself. At first, both Tsunade and Jiraiya were in denial. It was unheard to have a child of such age show that much capabilities. They shoved it at the back of their minds for the time being but when Akira’s first birthday neared, refusing the truth was no longer an option. When Tsunade entered Akira’s room full of daisies, the truth dawned on them like a bucket full of ice cold water.
She had inherited her great-grandfather’s kekkei genkai.
The Wood Release.
She was the first since the Shodai Hokage’s time to have this nature transformation and to think that when everyone finally came into terms that this Release was extinct, Akira came along, having acquired it naturally, after it skipped two full generations of her family and more than seventy years since her great-grandfather was born.
This brought fear in Tsunade’s mind. The safety of her daughter could be at risk after this discovery. It was not a secret that the Wood Release was one, if not the most, sought after kekkei genkai in the world. Not just because of its rarity but also the power and versatility it gives its wielder.
And the destruction it may cause once fallen in the wrong hands.
If that wasn’t already bad enough as it is, a shocking discovery from the Third Hokage’s wife became the final nail in the box that sealed Akira’s fate as a protector of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.
“ What is that?” Biwako asked looking at Akira’s right feet as Jiraiya lulled her for afternoon nap. The child was just about to turn one and after Tsunade’s distressed conversations with Hiruzen about the safety of her child, the Hokage together with his wife, decided to pay the child a visit.
“ It showed up a few days after she was born.” Tsunade answered. She caught the startled look that passed Biwako’s face from across the chubadai as the older woman looked at her husband.
“What?” Tsunade asked, looking at the two. She knew immediately that something was going on and if it had anything to do with her daughter then needed to know. She had to.
“ Could it be possible?” Biwako’s eyes remained fixated on the Hokage.
“It makes a lot of sense.” Hiruzen recalled how Tsunade came into his office a few months after Akira’s birth. He had never seen him so frantic as she told him ever growing abilities of Akira. She said it was just a couple of flowers in the beginning and how she thought they were just reacting to her chakra but then the incident with the daisies happened and she was so sure that there was something wrong with her. Most children do not show their affiliated chakra natures until well into their childhoods when they’ve mastered their chakra control. He did his best to calm the new mother that day and assured her that it was probably because of Akira’s genetics and heritage but it never truly left his mind. Yes, it was possible that it was because she was the great-grand daughter of the First Hokage and the daughter of the two of the most skilled shinobis that the Leaf Village had come across but he always suspected that there was more behind what was seen. Biwako’s suspicions was entirely plausible given the facts.
“Shut the doors.” He instructed in a manner he was the only one who was allowed to do so.
“Have you ever heard of The Okami?” Biwako asked as soon as the doors were closed shut and they were completely alone.
“The Wolf Spirit? Yeah, from the folktales and myths.” Jiraiya’s voice had a hint of apprehensiveness, he had a feeling that he won’t like what they were about to imply. He looked at the innocent child in his arms. It’s impossible.
“Not exactly.” And so, Biwako told the tale of the Okami to the two Sannin. She told how the wolf, believed to be once a human, protected the people in the shadows. It was known for its benevolence and truthfulness and was well-respected and honored during it’s time. And when it’s time came, the Okami vowed to its descendants that when the humankind is in dire need of protection, it will once again return to the world. Up until now, it is believed that the descendants of the Okami still remains in the heart of the Kiyoiyuki Mountains.
Biwako told them that there only has been two other people recorded in recent history to be believed as the reincarnation of the wolf. The latest was during the beginning of the Warring States Period nearly two centuries ago. They all had the same mark Akira now possessed.
“You’re saying she’s a reincarnation of this wolf-spirit that hasn’t been seen in decades?”
It was the Lord Third who answered the clearly terrified mother. “We can’t be sure for now, Tsuna. We’ll have to wait until she’s older but it would explain why she developed such abilities this early. She isn’t like the other children.”
Tsunade felt like she was going to puke. Not only were her dreams of Akira living as a simple civillian were shattered but her fate to die for the village seemed inevitable.
“So she’s like a jinchūriki?” Jiraiya’s question sounded more like a statement.
“Similar, but no. Jinchūrikis have a spirit of a tailed beast living inside of them, like a seperate being. She doesn’t have that because she the Okami is inside her very core. They are one.” Biwako explained.
In the end, the four of them decided that Akira’s true nature would remain as a secret. There will be no papers linking to her true nature, only that she is a prodigy if her own right which can be easily explained by her origins. This was necessary to ensure that she would remain safe until she was ready to defend herself from those who would want to use her for their own gain.
In the following years, she would be trained rigorously to prepare her for her role as a protector of Konohagakure. A number of both current and non-Jonin-senseis were handpicked by the Hokage together with her mother and godfather were chosen to be her teachers and senseis in the upcoming years.
Tsunade was against the idea at first. She wanted to give her daughter a normal childhood like everyone else but knowing that training her is the only way to protect her, she agreed to the plan with a heavy heart.
It wasn’t easy to raise Akira on her own especially with her still not being able to really move on with Dan’s death knowing that they should be raising Akira together and her depression that was constantly making her day even harder but she did her best, the best she could manage. She thought her medical ninjutsu for the next nine years and just as she expected, she was a natural at it. That made Tsunade smile.
Much to their relief, Akira had a somewhat normal childhood, at least for the first nine years. She trained with her sensei’s on the weekends, attended the academy (sometimes) on weekdays and played with the other kids during the afternoon. Her skills were already advanced for her rank as an academy student when she was five. It was already comparable with a newly promoted chūnin and sometimes she would even spar with kids in the higher ranks.
She wasn’t always compliant though. She would skip sessions with her senseis from time to time and would play with the other kid instead, her taijutsu needed some work and her kenjutsu could still be improved. The adults took that as a good sign. They didn’t want to take her personality away and turn her into some sort of killing machine just because her destiny demanded her to.
It was during her training with Inoichi Yamanaka, a former student of her father, Dan Katō, when her nature as the reincarnation of The Okami was once and for all, confirmed. Her eyes had turned a into a bright shade of yellow, her pupils constricted to a tiny speck in the sea of yellow and her chakra that was usually associated with the color blue, became white as a snow. It was neutral. And deadly. Akira fainted after the incident and Inoichi decided to volunteer as her future master.
She was nine when her mother left. Tsunade had taught her everything she could in terms of medical ninjutsu. The top medical-nins will supervise Akira’s training from then on.
It was just supposed to be a few months of sabbatical. She just wanted some time alone to deal with her grief and depression. She wanted to be better mother for her daughter. Tsunade even asked Akira if she wanted to come travel with her and she actually hope that she would agree. She hoped that she could just whisk Akira away from her responsibilities from this damned shinobi world, she would have done so of she said yes. But like any other nine year old kid, she didn’t want to leave the place she had called home or fall behind her friends. Akira refused and instead asked her mother to bring her a gift from every town she would come and visit until her return.
And Akira didn’t realize her childhood would soon come to an end soon after her mother crossed the front gates of Konohagakure and onto the world outside.
Next up: Lots of Kakashi and Akira history.
Ask or Reblog for a tag!
57 notes · View notes
ilguna · 3 years
Text
Anteric - Aleatory (f.o)
summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.
warnings; swearing. BLOOD.
wc; 4.6k
NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.
In the ceremony room, factions are arranged in concentric circles. On the very outside circle is where you’ll be standing with the rest of the sixteen year-olds from every faction. Since you’re not an actual member from Abnegation, you’re not allowed to sit with them during the ceremony. It doesn’t matter if you intend to stay with them or not.
What you choose today will make you an initiate, and if you complete initiation, you become a member. While some factions are difficult to get into, like Erudite, Candor and Dauntless, others are much easier, like Abnegation and Amity. Which narrows down today’s choice.
You and the rest of the teenagers here, move around to put yourselves in alphabetical order according to your last names. It lands you between a Candor boy, dressed in black and a white. And a Dauntless girl, dressed only in black, playing with the piercing in her nose. Finnick is further down the list, since his name starts with ‘O’, this means that you’ll get to choose before him.
In the next circle are rows of chairs for your families, with each faction divided into slices to avoid inter-mingling. You watch as Reed brings Alyssum to a single chair, not wanting her to occupy another since she’s only three. He sits down, and places her right on his lap, letting her play with the sleeves of her shirt. Even with kids, they have to wear clothes that are too big for them. Reed says that she’ll grow into them as she gets older.
Because the responsibility of hosting the Choosing Ceremony rotates every year, it falls on Candor this time. Their leader is a tall man with dark hair and dull grey eyes. Haymitch Abernathy looks as bored as he does each time he appears anywhere. He stands on a podium that fits tightly between Erudite and Dauntless. He doesn’t smile.
As the chairs fill, silence begins to settle on the factions, with the exception of Dauntless. Once there’s not a single space left, they take the hint on their own, and allow Haymitch to go on with the ceremony. 
You curl your hands into fists at your sides, staring at the back of Reed’s head.
Haymitch’s voice is very monotone, “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony, the day we honor the democratic philosophy given to us by our ancestors. Let us say thank you for allowing them to give us the idea that every man has a right to choose his own way in the world.”
It’s mostly the Abnegation that murmurs out a quiet ‘thanks’. You keep your lips sealed, unlike everyone in this room, who had been told what they should go do, you’re left to your own thoughts. You actually get to make the choice on how you live the rest of your life. Three different factions, three different lifestyles. Only one of which you are familiar with. 
Which is why you should stick to Abnegation.
“Our children are now sixteen. They are on the edge of adulthood, which means that it’s now time for them to decide what kind of people they will decide to be. A long time ago, our ancestors realized that politics, religion, race and nationalism are not to blame for the awful world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of a human’s nature to go towards evil. 
“Since evil presents itself in many different ways, factions were formed to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.” Haymitch pauses for a moment, “Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.” 
Amity, a faction that already has someone from your family. Yet, you don’t qualify for it like he does.
The Amity share smiles, dressed in yellow, orange and red to trick their minds into being happier. They sing songs, pick apples from trees, and live in healthy communities. They are loving, and care-free and kind, everything that you’re not, since you picked up the knife and eliminated this option. You chose violence over peace without knowing what it represented. 
“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.”
With how Erudite has been behaving recently, they’ve made it easy for you to turn your back to them. It’s the easiest decision that you’ve made all day, and it really says something, doesn’t it?
They all hold one article of blue clothing, since blue is supposed to soothe the mind into being calm. Most of them also wear glasses, to make themselves seem smarter to others. You think it makes them look stupid.
“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor,” Haymitch’s lips turn up slightly, creating just the ghost of a smile.
Even if you had wanted to join Candor, it’s not an option. They don’t lie, and their initiation process has something to do with that, you’re sure. They can pick out liars, and they think keeping secrets is a form of lying. Since you’re Divergent, the entire faction is a hazard to you.
They wear black and white, to signify that truth and lies are black and white, with no grey area offered. They are also the people who smoke the most, you think it’s because of the stress that they endure.
“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.”
Your home, you’ve grown up in this faction for sixteen years, and you’ve been selfishly debating whether or not you’ll stay. In Abnegation, you’re supposed to forget yourself, but all it’s done is magnify the things you hate the most about it. 
If you made an effort and stayed, you might be able to change that thought. You just have to give it a chance. You have to give Reed a second chance.
“And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.”
Dauntless is dressed in solid black, tight-fitting clothes. They have piercings, brightly-colored hair and tattoos. They’re loud, and reckless, which makes them the complete opposite of Abnegation. If you were to give your life away today and go to them, you’d flip your world upside-down. 
Not to mention how hard their initiation is, going there is much more of a risk than trying to stay here and fix everything broken. At least you know how to make things work in Abnegation, there’s not even a guarantee that you’ll make it past Dauntless initiation.
“Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for decades. Each faction is important, as they contribute to a different sector of society. The Abnegation gives us selfless leaders in our government. Candor has provided us with trustworthy leaders in law. Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and outstanding technology. Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers. Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both inside and outside of the walls.
“But the possibilities of each faction do not end there. We give one another more support than we can put into words. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.” Haymitch pauses, “A life without factions, is a life we would not survive in.”
The last sentence is an attack on the factionless, who are supposed to be savages. You can see where they’re all coming from, even though for a while you didn’t. You’ve seen what the factionless can do first-hand, how they killed your father in an act of kindness. And now they’re hiding a murderer, refusing to give him up.
Without them, though, the city would not be clean and well-functioning. They’re the janitors, the garbage truck drivers, the construction workers, and more. They help your society in ways that you can’t even think of. 
It might be time for you to finally let the grudge go. It might have only been a few years ago, but all of them can’t be bad, right? If that were the case, then they’d be just as awful as everyone says they are. Yet, the Abnegation continues to feed them, and clothe them, and volunteer over them to give them better living situations.
If you stay in Abnegation, this is a concept that you have to accept.
“This day marks a happy occasion, in which we receive our new initiatives, who will work with us toward a better society, and a better world.” Haymitch finishes, allowing loud applause to come from your families.
He reads the names one at a time. A sixteen year-old will step out of their place in the line and walk toward the middle of the circles. This is where five metal bowls lay, each one having an element that represents a faction. For Abnegation, there are grey stones, Amity has soil, Candor has broken glass, Dauntless has lit coals, and Erudite has water.
For a while, no one switches factions, and you can’t blame them, to be the first to do it must be nerve-wrecking. Then the streak breaks, when an Erudite girl transfers to Candor. The Erudite section isn’t happy, casting glares towards Candor, but Candor gives her smiles and nods on her way behind their section.
You think it’s funny that the two factions don’t realize how similar they are. Candor and Erudite both find ways to disturb the peace. In a way, telling the truth and striving for knowledge at any cost is the same. You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw them swap many initiates.
Still, with the girl transferring, it means that she’ll eventually be seen as a traitor to Erudite. It doesn’t make sense, since you said so yourself, you aren’t actual members of the faction that you come from. It doesn’t keep the factions from being territorial over the teenagers that they thought would be theirs, though.
With the Erudite girl being the first to switch, it gives others the courage to do the same. Each faction welcomes new faces and fresh blood, and the initiates seem to be happy with their decision once it’s over with. With the way they sigh and smile, it’s like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.
Before you realize, the Candor boy next to you is being called to the middle of the room. You grit your teeth, allowing the tight feeling to grow in your throat. You have to take deep breaths if you want to stay calm. You don’t need to clam up down there, you need to have one fluid motion when you choose if you go or stay.
The Candor boy cuts his hand, and holds it over Erudite’s water. Haymitch gives him a brief look, allowing him to clear the middle of the room before reading the next name, yours.
“(Y/n) Gallows.” 
His eyes land on you now, you take in a deep breath before heading down the steps one at a time. You know that Reed’s eyes are on you, anticipating your next move. The last time the two of you went to a Choosing Ceremony, your brother had ended up transferring to Amity. Reed has to be wondering if you’ll be a repeat of him.
If you do, you’ll leave him all alone. 
You’re not sure if you can do that, even after everything that happened between you two, and between you and Abnegation. You might have lost everything you have here, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to build it up again. You can make Abnegation how you want it to be, only if you stay.
You stop in front of the metal bowls, eyes sweeping over the table. The elements inside of the bowls are all stained in some way by now. Erudite’s water is pink, Candor’s glass shows red, Abnegation’s stones have droplets of blood littering them like freckles. The only two unbothered will be Dauntless and Amity.
Haymitch offers you the knife, it will only be used once, and it will only be used by you. He gives you a curt nod, and you’re left to decide by yourself. The knife you hold in your hand now is nowhere near as heavy as the one you held in the aptitude test. This one is lighter, and sharper.
You bring the blade to your palm, carefully dragging it across. It stings badly, and you grit your teeth to combat the tears in the corner of your eyes. The blood springs to life outside of your body, showing the rich color. You stare at it for a second as you shift your body to the left, where Abnegation and Dauntless lie. 
You are not cut out for Amity, you are too mean. You are not cut out for Candor, you are a liar. And you are too smart for Erudite to have.
The blood needs time to pool, giving you more time to think.
If you leave Abnegation today, you will leave Reed alone with Alyssum. Alyssum will have no older sister, Reed will have no one to take care of her. She’ll grow up the same way you did, in silence without a single mention of Mox. This time, you’ll be added to the list.
If you leave Abnegation today, you will no longer have the comfort of knowing that you’ll be able to pass initiation. Dauntless is not Abnegation, their initiation process could be living hell. While on the other hand, you could volunteer for thirty days and officially call yourself a member after Initiation Day. There will be no fear at night. 
If you leave Abnegation, you will leave everyone you know behind. People that you could rely on in hard times. You will have to learn new faces, names and mannerisms. You won’t get to meet people who knew your parents, already offering up stories about them without you asking. No one will know where you came from.
The only problem with staying in Abnegation, is that you run the risk of losing your best friend. Finnick hates it here, he always has. He doesn’t fit in, he fights, and you’ve watched him do it. He’s been waiting years for the Choosing Ceremony just so that he can switch factions and find a place better for him.
However, that’s the only downfall you’re seeing with staying.
You know that Abnegation isn’t perfect, that there are many issues you have with the faction, but all of them can be fixed if you stay. All of them can be fixed with time, especially the ones concerning Reed. If you go, though, none of it will be possible, and you risk losing what relationship you have left with him.
You have to remember that you have the aptitude to stay. You’re not an outcast, not in Abnegation.
You love Finnick, you really do, he’s just not enough.
You hold your hand over the Abnegation stones, and tip your hand over, allowing your blood to join the rest. A smile comes over your face as you turn to Abnegation, eyes locking with Reed, who gives you a small smile in return. He bounces Alyssum a few times on his knee.
On your way up to stand behind your home faction, you earn a few approving nods. You slip your hands into your pockets, staring ahead at the center of the room. You know for a fact that your hand is still bleeding, there’s not much you can do to fix it, is the thing. You could always wipe it on your shirt, but that would draw attention to you.
The Ceremony continues on, not a lot of people deciding to join Abnegation. It has to be the fault of Erudite, normally Abnegation has a healthy group that they train each year. With every person that leaves the line, the closer Finnick’s turn draws. 
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling nervous for him.
“Finnick Odair.” Haymitch calls.
Finnick leaves his place in line, heading down the stairs fluidly. Haymitch hands the knife over to him, gives him a nod, and then observes. Finnick turns to the Abnegation and Dauntless bowls on his left, which is no surprise to you. You can already see him in Dauntless black.
He lifts the knife, drags the silver blade across his hand, and patiently waits for the blood to build up. To anyone else, this might look like he’s stalling, to you it seems like he’s trying to make it as excruciating as possible before he transfers. Abnegation is supposed to be a good faction, which is why hardly anyone ever leaves. If he builds up suspense, it’ll make the news a little harder to bear.
You already know what’s coming, though.
Finnick swallows, and then moves his cupped hand over Abnegation.
You hold your breath.
He tilts his hand, allowing the liquid to run down his skin and drop onto the stones below. 
What is he thinking?
Finnick turns around, injured hand diving into his pocket in an effort to hide the mess he’s made. You begin to feel lightheaded, so you’re forced to let out the air you were holding. Without so much of a glance at you, he stops to your right. 
Your eyebrows draw in, mouth open slightly when you reach out to touch his arm to catch his attention. It works, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shake your head at him, because you don’t understand. He hates it here, why would he want to stay? Why didn’t he take his chance to leave?
He doesn’t speak, only gives you a gentle smile before turning back to the Choosing Ceremony.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
As you expected, Abnegation initiation didn’t even come close to being hard. Volunteering for thirty days is the equivalent to walking in a park. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you wouldn’t make it through. You would have had to make an effort to fail, which says a lot about the program.
It wasn’t easy in the beginning, you won’t lie. You were more used to small acts of kindness, by giving up your seat on the bus and making dinner even when it wasn’t your turn. That was not the case when it came to the actual initiation, though. You’ve spent hours in the sun, feeding the factionless. You’ve labored in the kitchen in order to fill a quota for food that needed to be handed out. And you’ve filled in jobs that haven’t been taken by the factionless, and so much more.
There were a couple points in time where you were sure that Finnick was going to burst the bubble that he had worked so hard to form. It only furthered the idea that Finnick was not cut out for Abnegation, and he had only stayed because he wanted to be around you. But then he’d bounce back, and you’d be unsure about it again.
You two made it though. The journey was far from easy, yet the two of you sit side by side on the bench in the initiation room. You have your hands in your lap, Finnick has his placed on each side to him, leaning forward slightly. To your right is a transfer initiate, Verda, who didn’t have any problem with fitting in.
In front of you are a few of the leaders of Dauntless, one of them being Naida’s husband, Amon. For the Abnegation-born initiates, like you and Finnick and a few others, your families are also gathered together, behind the leaders. They’re all smiling, excited for you.
The oldest leader that Abnegation has, clears his throat, looking over the bench. This year, no one had failed initiation, which means that all of you are basically touching shoulders because the bench isn’t big enough. They would add another one, if it weren’t for the fact that the bench has been here for a long time. The new bench wouldn’t have the same wear and tear as the rest.
“I will be my undoing, if I become my obsession,” the man starts. It’s the Abnegation manifesto, part of the initiation ceremony, “I will forget the ones I love, if I do not serve them. I will war with others, if I refuse to see them. Therefore I choose to turn away from my reflection, to not rely on myself, but on my brothers and sisters. To project always outward until I disappear.”
There are a few people who mutter, “And only God remains.” after the final sentence. It’s an optional sentence, mostly spoken by the religious members of Abnegation. It’s not a requirement by any means.
The leader that had been reciting, gives you all a gentle smile, “Congratulations initiates, tomorrow you can officially call yourselves members.”
No one responds at first, not even the ones that were born here. They must not have older siblings that live here, because silence is not the answer. You know for a fact that Finnick has a younger brother.
“Thank you.” you say, breaking the silence.
“Thank you.” Finnick breathes.
One by one, some overlapping others, each of you thank him.
After that, your least favorite part comes.
During Reed’s Abnegation initiation, there were three parts to it. The first, is to read the Abnegation manifesto, which is about forgetting yourself and knowing the dangers of selfishness. The second, is getting your feet washed by the older members to symbolize leaving a life of selfishness behind. And the third is to then share a dinner with everyone in attendance, serving the person to your left.
Obviously you can understand why they will wash your feet, but it’s not exactly a comfortable situation. If you were born in Abnegation, you’ll typically get your parents--and in your case, since they’re not here, you will be getting Reed--or if you transferred, you get a leader or a volunteer instead.
If you could back out, you would. The last thing you want is for Reed to wash your feet, especially since your relationship isn’t exactly healed just yet. You’re on the road to getting there, but there is a long way to go still.
Still, you watch as parents, siblings, leaders and volunteers alike bring out glass bowls, placing them at your feet. Finnick gives you a look, face twisting. You’ve already told him that it was going to happen, so he could prepare himself. He must’ve forgotten, because you’ve been having nightmares of this situation this past week.
Reed gets on his knees in front of you, pouring the water into the bowl. He sits back, and then holds a hand out for your foot. You give him a polite smile, allowing him to get it over with. For Finnick, his father sits in front of him, taking his time washing Finnick’s feet.
Finnick looks extremely uncomfortable, stuck between smiling and staring at his father with a straight face. 
Finally, your feet are patted dry with a white towel, and Reed gets up from where he was sitting. Others follow at a steady pace, disposing of their water and washing their hands. 
Then it’s finally time for dinner.
You get up from where you sit on the bench, looking at Finnick with a funny smile. His face is twisted, lips pursed as he gets up from his spot. He closes his eyes for a long moment, shakes his head, and the two of you move on to find a free bathroom to wash your hands, shoeless.
Verda, Clay, Moises and a few others follow you two, since you seem to know what you’re doing. They’re right, because you lead them to the gendered bathrooms. They split, going through the swinging doors. You’re about to head into the girls bathroom, thanking Verda for holding open the door, until Finnick asks for you to stay back.
“Oh, sure.” you nod at him, looking at Verda, “I’ll be inside in a moment.”
She gives you a smile, the door sweeps shut behind her.
You raise your eyebrows at Finnick, giving him a smile, “What’s up?”
He makes a face, and then sighs it out, “I want to thank you for sticking with me during initiation. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through.”
“It’s really no problem, Finnick.” you laugh, “I can’t leave you behind, even if I wanted to.”
Finnick cracks a smile, and then it fades. He’s got more on his mind.
“What is it?” you ask, “Are you nervous for dinner?”
“No, dinner will be easy.” he waves it off, “It’s something else.”
He doesn’t elaborate.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shrugs.
You shake your head, settling for a tilt, “I’m not a mindreader, Finnick.”
“I know, it’s just…” he scratches the back of his neck, eyebrows drawing in. He’s not looking at you anymore, he’s staring at the floor, “I like you.”
You stare at him, blinking. When there’s not an immediate response, he finally looks up to your face, scanning for a sense of direction. His face begins to turn red, his ears too. 
He has to be kidding.
“You don’t like me back, okay.” he breathes, straightening to his full height, “That’s good to know.”
“No,” you say, still staring at him. You don’t think he’s kidding anymore, “No, that’s not it.”
Finnick lightens up, “It isn’t?”
You have spent this whole month listening to Verda talk about how cute Finnick is. It started off fine, it didn’t really bother you because you couldn’t see what she was talking about. In Abnegation, physical affection is a powerful thing, which is why it’s so rare, and no one dates during school. Relationships typically form after a long period of time, and after initiation.
But after listening to her talk about him, day in and day out, he was forced to the front of your mind. Not to mention her constant question of whether or not the two of you were dating, a question you tried to shut down. She was so insistent over it, how he would do things for you. As if the entire Abnegation motto isn’t to be selfless and help your neighbor if they need it.
Unfortunately, she began to be right when he would do things for you, that he wouldn’t do for others. Verda wanted to show you that it wasn’t normal, that he was going out of his way for you.
It took everything in your power not to strangle her in her sleep, when she simply stated that he had feelings for you, and it’s the same for you. You’re not sure what Verda did for most of her life in Amity, but some of that stuff doesn’t translate into Abnegation. And with her pointing out your feelings for Finnick, the thoughts of you two together began to crawl.
You thought that it was impossible, though. Finnick has never expressed a liking for any guy or girl. There was a greater chance that he wanted to be alone or with someone else, than you.
Yet here he is. Verda was right.
“I like you too.” you say, the relief on his face is immediate.
“Really?” he begins slouching again, “You’re not just saying that?”
“Really.” you laugh, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead.
He laughs too, his head is back to look at the ceiling.
This is it. You were right to stay in Abnegation, right to think that you could fix what had happened here. You can’t help yourself when you reach for Finnick’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He locks eyes with you, squeezing right back.
This is the first day of the rest of your life.
--
ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//
add yourself to the TAGLIST
@justthatfangirloverthere / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @fnnshelbys​ / @vxntae​ / @liaaacantwrite​ / @terezasworld​ / 
23 notes · View notes
Text
The Outsider
Tumblr media
Request: Enemies to lovers with Thor by @jennie22feona​ I hope you like this love ;)) This was a challenge because Thor is so lovable. Happy reading!
Fall Prompts Masterlist
Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader
Warnings: Mostly fluff, a few curse words.
Permanent Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder​ @ladyacrasia​ @agustdowney​ @raspberrymama​  @littlegasps​ @swaggysposts​
Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged!
Word count: 2.1k oops!
“Well if you don’t try, it won’t get better now, will it?”
Steve reasoned, patting Thor’s shoulder as he passed him, carrying his dish out to the dining room where the team were gathered for dinner. Thor frowned looking down at his own plate, staring at the lasagna you’d made for everyone.
It was one of those rare times when he was staying at the compound, not busy saving the nine realms. The team got together for meals more frequently after the Ultron incident.
A real sense of family developed over the years, friendships were formed as new people became a part of the Avengers. Thor had no problems getting along with anyone in the past, except you.
He met you during the battle of New York, watching you fight like the strongest warrior alongside Natasha and Clint with your unparalleled combat skills.However, you seemed distant and gave him a cold shoulder when the team hung out. Every attempt of making conversation was met with an eye-roll or a look of disgust, and usually ended up with you walking away from the scene.
Thor sauntered out to join the rest, taking a seat right opposite you and digging in.
“Oh (Y/N), this is delicious.”
“Indeed. So tasty.”
Everyone complimented your dish, as you looked around the room, positively beaming. You met Thor’s eyes and he gave you an awkward smile, clearing his throat before shoving a large bite in his mouth.
“You know Asgardian feasts are the greatest. Nothing can ever compare.” He smiled proudly, hoping you’d appreciate his ‘attempt’ to make nice.
Steve shook his head in exasperation, while your smile disappeared. You went back to concentrating on your food, jamming the fork in the food a bit too forcefully and muttering,
“Well it’s not bloody Asgard.”
Nat placed her hand on yours soothingly, and turned to look at Steve, who was equally bothered.
“I’m sure about that Thor, but (Y/N) here has prepared this lovely meal for all of us, don’t you think that’s nice?”
Thor opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off,
“Don’t bother Steve. It’s fine.”
Everybody remained relatively quiet for the rest of the dinner, Clint tried to break the awkwardness recalling funny incidents that happened during the last mission.
Thor kept stealing glances at you, guilty for having made you this upset. He’d actually enjoyed the food quite a bit, but his efforts at making small talk had left you deflated.
Two weeks had passed since you’d last seen the proud Asgardian God, not that you would ever admit you had been counting.
You were busy chasing potential Hydra leads with Steve, who on multiple occasions mentioned that Thor was trying to get to know you better but didn’t know how to.
“He’s so stuck up and proud, I just can’t stand him Steve!” you’d stated.
The captain had tried to play mediator several times before, however it hadn’t gone too smoothly. You expressed that it was best to not try anymore, some people just don’t click.
After a particularly tiring sparring session one evening, you strolled into the kitchen to grab a drink, when you heard cabinets opening and closing as you approached. Thor was searching for food, you deduced, as you watched his rummaging from the kitchen doorway.
You didn’t want to face another awkward conversation, so you figured you would just tip-toe around the fridge, grab a drink and get away without him noticing.
Having successfully retrieved a bottle of beer, you turned away from the fridge and collided against the large chest of the God of Thunder, who had chosen at that exact moment to walk out.
You hit your bum pretty hard on the marble floor, back going next but Thor’s instincts kicked in and he saved your head by placing a hand underneath while bracing his body with his other hand to prevent crushing you. The beer bottle smashed from your hand splashing liquid everywhere, as a yelp left your mouth.
“Lady (Y/N) I am so very sorry, I did not see you. Are you hurt?”
His voice soft, worried as you felt his breath on your cheek, you had shut your eyes on impact, scared that you were just about smushed.
Peeking an eye open, you saw Thor’s face right over yours, brilliant blue eyes studying your face, concerned. You felt frozen, lying on the kitchen floor with Thor’s body on top of yours.
“I’m fine.” The creeping pain in your back and ass said otherwise, with Thor’s help you scrambled to a standing position, heat warming your cheeks, heart still racing. You were very much aware of Thor’s grip on your upper arm as he still ran his eyes over your sweat-covered gym clothes.
A sharp sting in your left hand drew your attention there and you saw a piece of glass lodged in the side of your palm, blood trickling from it. Thor saw it too, jumping into action as he grabbed a towel from the counter and approached you.
Exhaling loudly you braced yourself, carefully pulled the shard out, more blood rushing to the surface. Tears stung in your eyes as you pressed the towel down on the cut.
“Probably need stitches.” You muttered as the towel changed color from white to red, already walking out of the kitchen.
“Please allow me to assist you, Lady (Y/N).” he called after you, following you towards the elevator.
“Uh no, I think you’ve done enough.” Muttering rudely, you entered the elevator and pressed the button to the compound’s infirmary.
Thor followed you anyway, stayed by your side while you got stitches in the med bay, explaining to the nurse how it was completely his fault, even riding the elevator back with you to your apartment floor after the wound was attended to.
You didn’t say much the entire time, pangs of guilt coursing through at his thoughtfulness. Discourteous as you had been, this man still tried his best to help but, your stubborn self refused to admit it was all your mistake.
Leaning on Steve for support, you limped towards the common area for a movie night. You had a sprained ankle from your latest mission that hadn’t quite healed yet and was bandaged.
“Easy. Are you comfortable?” Steve carefully propped your leg on the wooden table, before placing a small pillow underneath.
“As I’ll ever be. Thank you Rogers.” You gave his hand a grateful squeeze and placed the large bowl of popcorn in your lap.
“Your hand isn’t fully healed yet. Seems like you’re losing your edge, (Y/L/N).”
Glaring at his statement, you already regretted telling him about the kitchen incident. All hopes of this embarrassing event staying between two friends had gone to shit when Nat and Sam brought it up earlier today and Steve hid his face, sniggering.
“I’m not losing anything, you’re about to lose your arm if you keep this up.” You threatened, though you both knew you were kidding.
Your banter got cut short when the Asgardian God walked into the room, swinging Mjolnir in one hand and a large candy bar in the other.
You had literally been avoiding him ever since, excusing yourself to fake phone calls when he was around, eating dinners alone in your room under the pretext of wanting to be with yourself.
And now, knowing Steve – Mr Goody-two-shoes, he would ask Thor to join you here, and he did just that.
“Hey Thor, we’re watching old classics today, come join us.”
Steve ignored your death stare and continued to look at Thor expectantly, who seemed undecided for a bit, but then smiled and walked over to the couch, accepting Steve’s invite.
You threw a handful of popcorn at Steve when Thor wasn’t looking, he merely shrugged, mouthing ‘you-should-talk-to-him’.
Thor took a seat next to you, keeping a considerable distance in between while you resumed the movie. Halfway through it, Steve made an excuse to go to the bathroom only to never return, leaving you alone with the Asgardian.
You’d fallen asleep before the movie got over, not realizing when Thor had covered you with a blanket or when he’d moved closer to support your head on his shoulder.
The noisy crunch of popcorn from your right, brought you back to consciousness as you noticed the bowl now in Thor’s lap, and his other hand wrapped securely around your shoulders.
He was so warm. You didn’t have the heart to move away.
“I’m sorry did I wake you?” he asked, removing his hand away, much to your disappointment.
“Yeah. It’s—it’s fine though.”
Scrambling a foot away, the previous distance returning, you felt your cheeks flush.
A few minutes passed as you both watched the second movie that had begun, before Thor broke the silence.
“How did you injure your ankle?” pointing to the bandaged limb.
“If I tell you, you’ll laugh. It’s embarrassing.”
“I will do no such thing, you have my word.” He replied sincerely, turning to face you fully.
You began telling the story honestly, how after the mission you were walking towards the jet and accidently tripped on a previously unseen stone that had resulted in a nasty sprain. You skipped the part of how actually your mind had wandered to the day you and Thor had that kitchen mishap.
He seemed genuinely concerned for you after hearing it and like he promised did not laugh.
“You know the healers on Asgard would’ve been able to mend it in no time.” He added.
“Your ability to bring your Godly realm into every conversation blows my mind, really.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.
“Well, all of you have such incredible stories from Midgard to share, and I feel like an outsider, I just thought sharing stories from my home planet would make for interesting conversation. Which I now realize is the cause of your annoyance, so I’m really sorry about that.”
He frowned, a sad look flashing in his face, before he replaced it with an understanding smile.
You felt terribly guilty for never having thought it that way. He was just trying to make conversation. He was a literal outsider, always taking great interest in wanting to know about ‘Earthly traditions’, having nothing to add to that hence sharing his Asgardian tales.
Wow. And you had been a real bitch about it this whole time.
Suddenly Steve’s words came back to you, all he wanted was try and get to know you better. Well now, it seemed like you had blown your chance of that ever happening as you kept staring down at your hands, unable to form a response.
“It seems like my presence is no longer wanted, I’ll leave you be, Lady (Y/N), enjoy your eve—” Thor began but you cut him off.
“No wait! Please.” You said almost too loudly, grabbing his wrist as he was half rising from his seat.
“I owe you an apology, several to be honest. You have been nothing but kind to me and I was a bitch. That little kitchen accident was all on me, I tried to sneak past you because I wanted to avoid an awkward situation. You helped me through that even though I was so rude. Hell, I even faked being busy to avoid dinners. This makes me such a terrible person and I am so sorry Thor. You didn’t deserve it, really I’m so so—”
In all of your gesture-filled apology frenzy, you had missed Thor leaning in slowly with an amused expression on his face, before his lips made contact with yours taking you by surprise.
His soft lips covered yours, hands moving to cup your face gently as he kissed you, feeling you relax against him and return the kiss.
It ended sooner than you’d hoped, breaking apart you found yourself grinning like an idiot, touching your lips, as if to make sure it had really happened.
“You’re not a terrible person (Y/N). You’re a strong, poised warrior. Maybe a little set in your ways.” The God added quietly, making you giggle as your forehead landed against his chest.
After a few moments you figured it was time to head back to bed, seeing as it was way past midnight. With Thor’s help you stood up, who ducked down and took your hand in his.
“Allow me to escort you back to your chambers.”
All you could manage was a shy nod, and he had effortlessly picked you up and had begun walking towards your room.
From a dark corner, Steve groaned as he removed a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to Natasha who had a victorious grin on her face.
Tumblr media
154 notes · View notes
crystalsoba · 3 years
Text
Soulmate au
Dbd killers x reader
Warnings: none, enjoy!
_________________________________________
I don't know if this has already been done or if there's anything similar but I wanted a new kind of soulmate au so I came up with something of my own.
It has to do with the six senses including sight, taste, hearing, smell, touch, and pain. Before you find/meet your destined soulmate you only have five senses, gaining your incomplete one after meeting them.
Idk it sounds pretty good and I wanted a new kind of soulmate au, feel free to use the idea if you want.
_________________________________________
Frank x Reader, touch
Tumblr media
Frank's pov,
.Frank sat next to Julie at the end of the bus carving his name into the back of the seat in front of him using his pocket knife, Julie wouldn't stop talking on and on about someone she meet the other day as she had the tendency to go on long rants if she's interested. He nodded along but wasn't really listening as he turned his attention to the grey fogged window next to him, putting his right hand to it only to feel a dull and almost empty feeling.
.He could never feel the cold window or freezing snow. It was just a numb feeling of something missing, but he gave up on finding his soulmate a long time ago as he was moved from foster home to foster home. Really he didn't mind it just became a inconvenience for him, any texture he felt was hard to figure out making it impossible to tell exactly what he was holding without looking. Temperatures were a bit impossible to differentiate, often accidentally burning himself or his friends commenting about how his room was always freezing. But that didn't matter, at the end of the day he probably won't even find his soulmate. Not that he was even trying at this point. Knowing his luck they were probably half across the world.
."Frank are you even paying attention?" Julie said in a slightly annoyed tone. Frank only responded with a slight shake of the head still being unintereasted. "Well I spoke to the new kid that moved in next to Joey, they seem at least decent. I don't remember where they're from but I'm meeting them at lunch." She was on her phone not bothering to look up anymore to check if he was still paying attention. "Oh and they're blind so be a little easy on them" after that he turned her out again as the school came into veiw.
.Once the bus stopped they both stood up from there seats and started shuffling to the small school. They both parted ways to their first classes.
Your Pov,
You stood in front of your new school, anxiety filling your senses as you refused to move or make any kind of attempt to find your way around the area. You moved with your family about a week ago, your parents needed to relocate after a series of bad events from the past month. The freezing air nipped at your skin, your coat did nothing to help shelter from the snow falling.
.You looked up but saw nothing, you wished you could see the snow falling around you. You still haven't found your soulmate, you still had hope. No point in giving up now.
.As the deafening school bell rung you were brought back to your senses. Flinching at the sudden noise you started to walk, using a cane to guide you around the stretching hallways with your hand on the wall feeling for any sign to read.
Eventually you stopped at a door with the right numbers and walked in knowing that everyone was staring at you. Your teacher greted you and told you where to sit, once you sat down you dozed off letting the minuets pass by to hopefully leave as soon as possible.
.Before you knew it the bell to lunch rang and you were eager to take a break. The day felt absolutely draining and you wanted nothing more than to relax a little. Everyone had questions for you all day, which you didn't mind so much but you could only take so much before wanting to combust. Back in your old school nobody gave you this much attention before, but to be fair it was a smaller school and an even smaller community. The kind where everybody knows each other.
.It was hard for you to navigate by yourself through the crowded halls of the school. You needed to find a girl named Julie. But you had no clue who anyone was or where anything is, which caused you to start panicking.
.You could feel your heart start to pulse faster and faster as you were pushed and bumped into by strangers. The noise became to much for you as the others around you were speaking loudly trying to be heard over one another. As you stand there frozen in fear you got bumped into by a larger student, knocking your cane onto the floor. And it was about that time where your slight panic became a full on panic attack.
.You backed up slowly with your back pressed to the lockers behind you. You needed to find someone to help you, and without hesitation you made a quick decision to latch onto the person in front of you.
.Frank was having a rougher day than he thought he'd have. He decided he'd just skip the rest of the day including lunch to escape. Not like he was learning anything new lately to even care.
.He made his way through the thick crowd of students, pushing and shoving his way through in a "don't mess with me" aura. But as he was about to round the corner he felt something latch onto the side of his hoodie.
.He reacted instantly to the startling action by quickly turning to face the person, grabbing them by the scruff of their jacket and shoving them back to the locker.
.You let out a surprised yelp as you were shoved back into place roughly, the sudden brace for impact caused you to quickly shut your eyes as your head hit the locker with a thud.
.Frank was about to land a punch before he felt an unknown feeling. He stoped just before his fist met your face he squeezed the hand he had been using to hold your jacket. It was soft...warm...textured...he felt people brushing by him. He froze. Slowly lowering his fist and let go of you.
.When you felt him let go of you, you opened your eyes. In front of you was a boy wearing a dulled worn out hoodie with a white hood and jeans. You didn't know what to do, you didn't know what was happening. It was all so sudden and rushed. You looked around at everything the people passing by, the lockers, the hallway, the colors.
.You felt your eyes start to water as you realized what just happened. The boy in front of you was in shock and you couldn't help but stare at him, his expression was hard to read as he looked down at his hands.
.Frank couldn't process it, he didn't think that he'd ever find you or even know you exist really. But here you were in front of him with tears threatening to spill. He didn't know why but it felt wrong to watch you cry. Something in his head yelled at him to do something, anything than just stand there.
.He stepped closer to you and wiped away your wet face, feeling the wet tears on your warm skin. He wanted to feel every part of you, you were so stunning, and he's never seen you before.
.You watched him savoring the moment as best as you could, he looked absolutely stunning.
."Y/n..." you really didn't know what else to say but you watched as he smiled and barely whispered the word "Beautiful" making butterflies fill your stomach.
."Lets get out of here." He said knowing that here wasn't the best place for now. And you seemed happy at the statement by nodding.
.He didn't know what he was doing but it seemed right to want to hold your hand, so soft and warm. He guided you through the halls of the school to the back exit through the administrations office to the outside. He watched as you looked up in amazement at the falling snow, in childlike wonder. Everything you looked at you looked at with such curiosity and amazement. He vowed to himself that he'd stay by your side from now to forever as he watched you play in the snow with him.
.You both walked around town while holding hands, letting you see the world and frank touch all the textures he could, including your hand. You both talked about your lives so far and where you both had been, sharing experiences and stories making each other laugh. And as the sun set you both walked back to your place staying by each others side together.
_________________________________________
Susie x Reader, hearing
.You were frustrated beyond belief. You trudged through the empty hallways with warm tears spilling from your eyes. Today is another soul crushing day dealing with horrible teachers, boring useless classes, and annoying students. That's what you usually dealt with. But today was a special kind of messed up. You were never the type of kid to make friends with any of the people around you, making you a social outcast by others standards. That coupled with your preference to work solo made your life hell. But the reason for the tears falling from your eyes was because of the class you just walked out from.
.It was science and for the next assignment you were all paired in groups of four for a presentation. It really wasn't going to be that bad, sure you'd probably end up doing most of the work but at least you wouldn't have to worry so much about getting a bad grade on participation. But your teacher was known for making the groups usually unfair in some way. Often times breaking friends and couples apart to pair them with people they didn't like or care about. But you don't have any friends or people you hate so they did something worse, pairing you up with the popular kids. The reason they were popular wasn't because of their personality or kindness, but the power they had.
.You walked faster to the exit of the school, eager to escape. You exited the prison to see a mile long track covered in thick snow. You sat on the stair case in frront of the door allowing you to catch your breath and stop crying. But the stains were still there. You looked up at the grey sky covered in clouds and started to wish for something in your life to go right for a change. You wanted a friend but someone that wasn't like everyone else. Someone who really cared about you and not their own image. You wanted a soulmate.
.That's how it started, one of the girls was yapping on about how they met there soulmate a year ago. At first you didn't care, simply but then one of them asked if you had found your soulmate yet. To which you shyly shook your head. And that's when you realized you had messed up. They instantly outed you from the group, making fun of you, criticizing you, laughing at you. You finally snapped when one of them said that your soulmate was probably a social reject of a person like you and was probably just a sed nobody with no future or hope left once they meet you.
.At that point you stood up and smacked the girl across the face as hard as possible, the noise echoing in the classroom. You then stormed out of the class to where you are now.
.You hugged your knees to your chest in a way to comfort yourself. You were about to stand up before you heard the door behind you open and close. You quickly tried to clear away any signs of crying from your face, but failing. You only turned your head to the figure standing behind you to see who it was.
.standing behind you was a girl wearing a slightly over sized hoodie with a plaid skirt and tights. Her hair was bright and colorful, it looked nice compared to the bland surroundings. Her face was covered and hidden by the hood she was wearing.
.You could tell she was about to ditch class before she bumped into you, she opened the door quiet enough not to alert attention and she looked rushed to get here.
.You felt embarrassed from staring at her for so long, you probably looked weird to her. She stared back at you with her head tilted as if she was curious about you. To you shock she started to sit down next to you, she didn't say anything and neither did you. You felt her lean into your side at this point you had no clue of what was going on in her head. Maybe it was some sort of joke or attempt to make you feel worse? Either way, you didn't hate it. Affection was rare here for you and she felt so warm compared to the freezing air around you.
.Susie couldn't believe her luck, she finally found you. She listened to your breathing, so calming and soothing. The outside was strangely quiet, she all ways imagined it would be louder. She always knew there was more to you, she never had the courage to actually see if she was right about her gut feelings. But she was glad she caught you like this, alone just for the two of you. She couldn't look away from you the snow and chilled air made you look like an angle.
."What....What are you doing..?" She was shocked, did you not realize you were soulmates? She looked at you with pure confusion on her face, trying to figure it out.
.You slightly regretted saying something, but you had to know what was going on at this point.
.She sighed "You don't realize, do you?" Her voice was soft and gentle compared to yours, you replied with a nod still confused. She breathed out before asking "Can you smell?" You nodded. "Can you see?" You nodded. "Can you hear" you nodded again. "Can you taste?" You shook your head in confusion to where this was going to go.
.She smiled again and slowly leaned towards you. You were frozen still in shock as she put her lips to yours, her chapstick rubbing off on your lips. She broke the kiss and leaned back to see your reaction. You took a second to reboot your brain to process what happened just now. You slowly came to realize that you could taste the chapstick she was wearing. The taste was something strange to experience, it was slightly stingy but good at the same time. She was your soulmate.
."How did you know?" You asked her. She shrugged before replying "I could hear your breathing and heartbeat." She gently reached for your hand that was freezing. "Do you want to get out of here?" She asked. You nodded your head not wanting to go back inside.
.You both got up from your spots and walked away from the school towards her house. Holding hands while you both walked.
.Once you got to her house you both talked, you showed her some of your favorite music and she had you try tasting random foods the rest of the night. Happy with how the day turned out you both stayed inside to watch movies and play a few games.
.You thanked the universe with gifting you such an amazing person as your soulmate. Promising to cherish her forever.
_________________________________________
33 notes · View notes
phantom-sunset · 3 years
Audio
Thank yo so much to @screwunsaidemily​ for putting this gift exchange together.
This one is for @penguin-writes-books and is inspired by the above song
Titled: Polaroid
Rated: T
Ship: Willex
Alex has been distant recently, It wasn’t anything they had done. It was his family. His parents, to be more specific. He had finally come out to them and well...it didn’t go well. They’d stopped speaking to him completely and when he was home, pretended he wasn’t even there. His mother looked through him and his father never stayed in the same room if he was there. Alex could feel it was only a matter of time until they kicked him out completely.
Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety party Luke and Reggie were throwing for Alex but instead patiently waited. She had an idea, she always knew when one of her boys wasn’t okay. She never pushed though, and instead waited for them to be ready to come to her.
Ray was waiting as well. Both he and Julie, and maybe Carlos too, had an idea of what was going on. Ray had already gotten their second guest room ready for Alex, for when he was ready to open up to them. When he was ready to live his life completely out in the open. Ray had hung a rainbow flag off of the porch, just a little outward sign that Alex was safe and welcome in his home, that all of them were.
Reggie had come to move in with them when he had come over with cuts and bruises littering his body. That time Julie did not wait. She went to Ray and together they went to Reggie’s house, packed his things and brought him back to his new home. That was four years ago, when Reg was only thirteen.
Luke was a different story all together. When he began to get quiet and his energy seemed to diminish, they all noticed. Reggie and Alex had bothered him until he spilled everything. Julie had waited instead. She sat next to him quietly, worked on music to distract him. Held his hand when he cried on her shoulder. Played big spoon to his little when all he wanted was to feel loved and safe.
When Luke had finally let her in, she walked right up to his parents house the next day after school and refused to leave until they sat down and watched the entire video history of Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page. She sat there for hours until they admitted that their son was full of talent and that instead of forcing him into an engineering degree that would absolutely destroy his spirit, they should support his music major.
They had agreed when Julie sat quietly on their couch and simply stared at them expectantly without blinking. She might only be seventeen but she was scary when she needed to be, Rose had made sure of it. 
                                       ___________________________
Alex really wants to stay home tonight. He’s not really in the mood to see anyone but none of his friends would allow it. He was pretty sure that the moment he came home today, his parents would kick him out. It was getting pretty blatant. If they didn’t do it, he was going to at least.
Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety surrounding Alex like the boys had. Instead she convinced him that one night out wouldn’t kill him, adding on that if he got too anxious they’d leave straight away. 
Julie knew that Alex definitely wasn’t ok but she knew it was a matter of time before he spilled his soul to her. It’s just how they’d always been, since they were kids.
Carrie is having her annual Valentines Day party tonight. Flynn’s cousin is in town touring UCLA for the week. He’s planning on starting in September. He is super cute and extremely Alex’s type.
So Julie is planning a secret set up. Alex has no idea but she’d let Flynn, Reggie, and Luke in on the plan. She was still shocked no one had told him about it but counted it as a win. One fourth of her best friends deserved a distraction and boy was Willie the perfect one.
“Are you guys ready?” Julie said as she walked into the studio that had somehow unofficially become the boys home. Even though Ray had made sure they all had their own space in his house.
Reggie was pulling a bright red shirt over his head, his black ripped jeans and combat boots already on, his leather jacket hanging lovingly over the back of a chair.
Luke was pulling on a white tee with “My Bloody Valentine” printed across it, a butcher knife dripping blood cut through the print. “Cute” she says to him as she takes in the shirt. She isn’t just talking about the shirt and he knows it but he smirks at her and winks. She rolls her eyes and turns to Alex.
He’s wearing a baby pink t-shirt and light colored blue jeans. His black and pink air maxes complete the look.
“No. But I doubt you’ll let me sit this one out.” Alex answers her question.
“You’re right. Let’s go, the Uber's here.” Julie puts her arm through his, pulls him towards Reggie where she loops her other arm and waits for Reggie to thread his arm through Luke’s. They skip down the driveway, Luke’s humming ‘We’re off to see the Wizard’ as they go.
When they pull up to Carrie’s it’s jam packed. Parents dropping their kids off, Uber’s dropping off their riders, and a lone skateboarder, weaving between bodies like he’s made of air. Julie smiles because she’d recognize that long brown hair anywhere. The guy hasn’t cut his hair since elementary school.
As they walk in, there’s staff dressed in red and white handing out brand new polaroid cameras to each guest as they come in. “To save the memories being made here.” He says to them. 
“Obnoxious, isn’t it? All that money and we get outdated cameras” Flynn says from Alex’s side. He jumps up, startled at her sudden appearance.
“Fucking hell, Flynn. Stop doing that!” Alex hisses. 
“Why? It’s so much more fun when you react like that.” She answers. Julie, Luke and Reggie snicker from behind him.
“Anyway. This is my cousin Willie. Willie This is Luke, Reggie, and Alex. You already know Julie.” She says, pointing them out individually.
“Nice to meet you.” Luke says as he holds his hand out. Reggie echoes him and Julie smiles and goes in for a hug.
Alex hasn’t moved yet. He’s just standing there, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he takes in Willie. He’s cute as hell and taller than Alex which was saying something. His cheekbones reach for the sky, and a jawline that should be illegal. He’s smiling at Alex, holding out his hand to shake and oh god, this was embarrassing. How long has he been waiting for Alex to move? How long has Alex been staring at him like a deer in headlights?
“The malfunctioning one is Alex. Give him a minute, he’ll be right with you.” Reggie said as he tears open his Poloroid camera. He turns to Luke who has his arm around Julie and is busy whispering her ear and snaps a picture.
“Shut up, Reg.” Alex clears his throat and offers up his hand, finally. He’s willing the blush on his cheeks to retreat, it doesn’t.
“So, I’m thirsty. Let’s go get some drinks?” Flynn says, grabbing Reggie’s hand and pulling him. He grabs on to Luke’s shirt who grabs onto Julie’s arm and their little chain disappears into the crowd at the speed of light.
“So, they’re not nearly as sneaky as they think they are.” Willie says. A wide smile stretching over his face. 
God, he’s teeth are so nice. White and straight. He probably never even needed braces. Alex shakes his head to clear his thoughts and realises Willie is speaking to him.
“Huh?” God, he probably sounds like an idiot. Way to make an impression.
“Your friends, my cousin. They’re setting us up.” Alex chokes on his own spit. Were they?
He turns towards the bar where his friends are standing. All four of them are watching him and he narrows his eyes. Reggie salutes him. Luke gives him a bouncy thumbs up. Julie and Flynn are batting their eyes and drawing little hearts in the air in front of them, their lips puckered in exaggerated kisses.
Alex rolls his eyes and turns back to Willie who had followed his line of sight and promptly burst out laughing.
“Wanna head outside? It’s super noisy in here and something tells me they won’t come back until we’ve gotten to know each other properly.” Willie suggests and Alex nods his agreement.
They end up spending an hour together. Alex lets Willie go first and everything he learns makes him like Willie more. He’s about to start college, UCLA is his first choice and he’s already been accepted. He’s going to be moving in with his uncle Robert (Flynn’s dad). The tour was an excuse to come to LA in order to see his family.
He’s from San Francisco, and is majoring in art. He’s sold his work in different galleries since he was fifteen. His mom calls him a prodigy but he just thinks he sees the beauty in things others don’t. He paints, sculpts, and does photography mostly but otherwise dabbles in everything.
Alex tells him about himself. He’s in a band. All four of them have also applied to UCLA for music majors. They’re going on tour over the summer, down the pacific coast. He tells Willie about the time Reggie and Luke convinced him to eat engine hotdogs and they all ended up in the hospital with food poisoning. Willie found that story hysterical.
It’s as Willie searches up the Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page to watch clips of their performances that he notices something and interrupts Alex’s story about how annoying Julie and Luke are in their mutual stupidity when it comes to their feelings for each other.
“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture of you?” Willie asks as he pulls the camera up to his eye.
“Only if I can take one of you.” Alex answers. It came out faster than his brain could process. Braver and flirtier than he intended but he let the question hang.
“Sure, hotdog! As many as you want.” He winks and smiles at Alex and snaps the picture. 
The little rectangle comes out of the side of the camera and Willie is shaking it and still smiling at Alex as he snaps his picture. They're both shaking the film to let it develop and laughing at the thought of people only ever having to do this for their pictures.
“God, how did people survive in the 90s?” Willie asks.
“Right? Like they had to carry around separate things for everything. Music, cameras, phones, planners. The bags must have been huge!” Alex answers and they laugh again.
Willie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sharpie, he grabs the picture of him from Alex’s hand and writes something on the white border. When he hands it back, Alex’s face turns red yet again.
                                        Willie C. - 2.14.2021 🖤
Alex decides to do the same and grabs his own picture from Willie's hand, writing his own down too before handing it back.
                                        Alex M. - 2.14.2021 🖤
They end up staying outside and completely missing Dirty Candi’s performance along with the rest of the party. Neither one is sure exactly how long it's been but Willie’s phone chimes and he looks down at it, startled.
“It’s Flynn. Wow, it’s midnight already? Looks like we gotta go. This was perfect, thanks for hanging out with me all night.” Willie says and Alex smiles at him.
“Yeah, I had a great time.” Alex answers as they both stand up. Willie turns to walk away but only makes it a few steps before he turns back to Alex.
“Can I kiss you?” Willie asks when he’s in front of Alex again. Alex freezes in response. He can’t do anything but nod because Fuck, he’s wanted to kiss him all night.
Willie laughs softly and puts both of his hands on Alex’s face and pulls him forward. It’s soft and sweet. Willie’s lips feel like cashmere and he smells like pine trees and coconut. The scent makes Alex light headed but he refuses to pull away until Willie makes the move to. Unfortunately it’s way too soon when he does.
“Thanks.” Willie turns and starts walking away again, leaving Alex to try and stop his brain leaking out of his ears since it’s now turned to mush.
“Wait! Can I have your number?” Alex shouts to him as he leaves. Willie turns, walking backwards as he shakes his head. The wide smile is still plastered on his face.
“Nah. It’s more fun this way, hotdog.” Willie answers, holding up the picture he’d taken of Alex. 
“I hate that name! It’s how I almost died!” Alex shouts to him. Willie’s loud laugh lingers in the air around Alex long after he’s gone.
“Well well well, if it isn’t Alex C. Mercer. The boy who hasn’t been seen all night.” Reggie says as he throws himself down in the lounger next to him.
“Well, as setups go, I’d call this one a success.” Luke says from his other side.
“I definitely saw some flirting there.” Julie says as she sits down between Luke’s legs.
“How would you know? It’s not like either of you knows what flirting is.” Alex smirks at the two of them. 
Reggie’s snickers come from behind Alex and makes it difficult to keep a straight face. Luke rolls his eyes and leans his head back, pulling Julie back with him so that her back rests against his chest. Julie punches Alex in the shoulder and sticks her tongue out at him.
                                   _________________________________
It’s a week before classes start at UCLA and Julie, Luke Alex, and Reggie are enjoying being back. In their own homes, in their own beds (Alex’s happens to be at Julie’s house now). They decide to go to the beach and invite Flynn along. 
Alex hasn’t mentioned Willie since valentines day and no ones brought it up. After all, he’s six hours away and had never given Alex his phone number. Sure, Alex had gone full FBI and found his Instagram page but it was private and Alex had never worked up the nerve to request him.
He thinks about him a lot though. Looks at the picture in his wallet more than he’d ever admit. He doesn’t have to come out and say it to anyone though because they’ve all caught him with it. Julie just smiled sweetly and left it alone. Unfortunately, Luke and Reggie are assholes so they bring it up all the time.
So here they are, spread out on the beach and Alex is getting thirsty. They’ve been here for a few hours and whatever supplies they’ve brought have been depleted.
“Hey, I’m gonna go grab some drinks. If you freeloaders want anything you’re going to have to come with.” Alex says as he stands up and slips his flip flops on.
“Rude.” Reggie says and stands up to go with him. Julie goes too and the three of them make it to the cement. Luke stays behind with Flynn to discuss album art concepts.
They stop to make sure someone actually had the money and when Reggie pulls out a soggy twenty that he had accidentally went swimming with, Julie laughs at him. Alex pulls out his own thankfully dry wallet.
“Watch out!” The voice comes from behind Alex but he doesn’t have time to move out of the way before something solid and strong slams into his back sending him sprawling face first into the sand.
“What the fuck?!” He yells as he spits sand out of his mouth and brushes it off of his body where it stuck painfully.
“Oh man, You dinged my board.” The voice comes from behind him again and he turns, fury burning in his veins.
“I dinged your board? You almost killed me!” Alex yells back. He doesn’t look up, examining his skinned knee.
“Yeah, I did pancake you, huh?” he’s laughing now and Alex stands up to give this guy a piece of his mind but his thoughts are cut off abruptly.
He can see Julie and Reggie out of the corner of his eye, smiling widely and snickering to each other. God, he hates them so much.
“Hotdog! Wow, long time.” He says. Alex’s brain has shut off though because wow he looks better than he did on valentines day.
His skin is sunkissed, his hair lightened by the sun, and he’s wearing a crop top that shows off his toned stomach. Alex traces the V as it disappears under his waistband. Someone pinches his elbow and he snaps out of it. Thank you, Julie. 
“Willie, hi! How have you been?” When had his voice gotten so squeaky?
“I’ve been good! Starting school next week. Just finished moving in yesterday. How about you?” He answers. Julie and Reggie have walked away to the beach bar.
“Just got back from touring last night. Now we’re here. Relaxing before school starts.” Alex waves his hand out, encompassing the beach and the general area where Flynn and Luke are bent over her phone.
“You know, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that party. Kind of the best kiss I’ve had.” Willie chuckles and bumps his shoulder against Alex’s.
“Tell me about it.” Alex pulls his wallet out as he speaks. Pulling out the picture from his wallet and showing it to Willie.
“No way!” That smile that Alex hasn’t stopped staring at is back as he pulls out his own wallet and shows Alex the picture. The ink is faded, as if he’d been running his fingers over the signed name. The corners are crinkled and Alex beams because his looks just as well loved.
“Wanna join us?” Alex asks and Willie nods and smiles in response.
“Hell yeah!” He takes off his helmet and picks up his skateboard, following Alex back to their spot. The thirst that had been drying his throat moments before is completely forgotten when Willie laces his fingers with Alex’s.
15 notes · View notes
soyforramen · 3 years
Text
Daffodils and Hyacinths
Or that Beronica Flower Shop/Tattoo Shop AU no one asked for.  (Cross posted on Ao3)
The second to last thing Veronica expected when she moved to the sleepy town of Riverdale was for the shop owner across the street to show up with homemade cookies.  It was such a quaint and nostalgic image that she had to suppress a laugh least she offend the women.  Instead she thanked her and wrote the whole incident off.  Even if they were neighbors of a sort that didn’t mean they’d ever mean anything to each other.  In New York Veronica hadn’t been able to name a single one of her neighbors.  Why should this town be any different?
-
It only took a few glasses of wine after the local town meeting, and Veronica found herself leading Betty through the flower shop.  Her neighbor’s quirky arrival last week with a basket of cookies, initially seen as a power play to prove to the town how kind and benevolent Betty was, had turned into a tense sort of friendship.  Veronica was cool every time Betty had made a point of waving good afternoon.  And the few times they’d run into each other at the only grocer in town, Betty had made a genuine effort in asking how Veronica was adjusting to life in the small town.
Veronica, a consummate city girl, did her best to rebuff Betty’s attempts at friendship - an indifference borne largely to bearing the Lodge name for so long - but it didn’t take much for her resolve to break down.  Betty, it turned out, was one of the rarest people in the world - someone who didn’t try to act like someone they weren’t.
And thus an odd friendship was struck up, one that was set in stone tonight as they both stood against the ridiculous zoning ordinances balefully aimed at the lower income neighborhoods in this ticky-tacky town.
Both bemoaned the tragedy of white gentrification afterwards between shots of tequila and three bottles of wine.  Unwilling for the night to end, Veronica asked Betty to join her at the flower shop.  A simple, innocent question that nonetheless brought a pretty rose blush to her cheeks that climbed downward through the night.  
They raced through the shadows of the shop, hands clasped together like narcissus and chinodoxa blooms in spring.  Giggling at the strange shapes the grow lights cast along the walls, Veronica lead her to the office door.
“I keep a bottle of rum in my desk,” she said breathlessly.  As she stepped through the door, her fingers automatically reached towards the leaves of her own personal plants.  “My grandmother’s secret recipe.”
“So much color,” Betty murmured.  She slipped off her jacket and set it on a chair as the hothouse humidity took its toll.  “I never realized orchids came in so many different colors.”
“One for each of my exes,” Veronica said as she pulled out the bottle of rum.  She gazed lovingly at each and set two shot glasses on the desk.  “They love the grow lamps.”
She held out a shot glass and felt a tremor when Betty’s fingers grazed hers.  Veronica watched as Betty threw back the shot, the muscles in her long throat working against the sharp flavor.  
“What is that?”
“Cardamom,” Veronica said as she sat on the corner of her desk.  She sipped at her own rum and let the flavor roll around her tongue.  
“Why flowers?” Betty asked as she reached for the rum bottle.
The question made Veronica pause.  It was a question she’d never been asked; a question she’d never thought to ask herself.  After all, flowers were one of the few ways her mother showed genuine affection.  Perhaps it was even how she showed love.  Almost before she could walk, Veronica knew that flowers meant different things.  Lilies for purity; blood red poppies for refusal.  Lavender for admiration; buttercups for childish ingratitude.  Veronica had been around flowers and plants her entire life, reading their meanings was as easy as breathing.  The thought that she could ever live without them was anathema.
The language of flowers was the one gift from her mother that really had any meaning in the long run.  It was a practice that Veronica had lost herself in many times, one that no one seemed to understand.  
But to tell Betty all of that, to open up to that kind of vulnerability?  As much as she might like her, as much as she might trust her, Veronica was not ready for that sort of confession.
“Why tattoo’s?” came her response.
Betty chewed on her lip and stared with unfocused eyes at the long-out-of-season Bird of Paradise - Veronica’s daily reminder that she was in this tiny town because she valued her freedom above all else.   At first, Veronica wondered if she’d committed a faux pas; perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had trust issues.  But after a while, she came to realize that Betty was also weighing how honest, how vulnerable she wanted to be.
“I like the pain,” Betty finally admitted.
She gazed at Veronica, already defensive against any sort of judgment or condemnation.  When Betty didn’t find it, she continued, her voice relieved.
“I was always the good kid.  My sister was wild, and when she ran away the whole family fell apart.  Dad moved away, Mom joined a cult.  My brother went to live halfway across the country.  In less than a year I lost my whole family, and I was just so angry.  Both my parents hated tattoos; they said they were trashy and vulgar.  So…”
Betty tugged at the neck of her sweater, and Veronica eyed the soft skin.  In soft, looping script along Betty’s collarbone read, “my life is my own.”
“My senior year of high school I lived with the one person who meant the world to me.  But he’d gotten into Yale and I hadn’t, so we got matching tattoo’s.”   Her fingers caressed the space over her heart, and Veronica longed to know what lay under all those layers.  It was one more puzzle piece to the enigma that was Betty Cooper.  But just as Veronica had her secrets to keep, so, too, did Betty.
“After that, it just became an addiction.  The steady pain of the needle, the infusion of ink.”  Betty rolled up her sleeve and set her arm on Veronica’s lap.  Veronica traced the delicate lines along the snow globe that depicted the sleepy town.  From the town square to Pop’s Diner, it seemed the only thing missing was Betty’s own tattoo parlor.
“My grandfather helped build Riverdale, and when he passed my mother gave away everything to the cult.  So I got this instead of his snow globe collection,” Betty said, sadness etched in her eyes.  She laughed despite it.  “You can only imagine how my mother took it when I showed up to his funeral in a sleeveless dress.”
Veronica’s lips quirked into a smile, her fingers dancing across Betty’s skin.  Carefully, Veronica raised Betty’s tattooed arm to her lips and pressed her lips against the skin of her wrist.  The faint aroma of rosewater greeted her.  When she glanced up, Betty drew a sharp breath, but that rose pink flush at the base of her neck was back.  Encouraged, Veronica leaned forward to press a kiss along Betty’s collarbone, then another at the base of her neck.  
Betty pulled away, only to meet Veronica’s lips with her own.
-
Riding a wave of romanticism - one that had started with a hothouse tryst a few weeks ago and seemingly had no end in sight - Veronica picked up dinner from the only decent restaurant in town.  She knew Betty’s schedule was tight, but fifteen minutes together was enough to make her day.  Besides, Veronica had become accustomed to idling in the tattoo shop while Betty worked, the soothing pastels and new art calm enough to make Veronica forget about the barrage of legal notices in her mail box.  And if that wasn’t enough, Betty always kept a  stash of rotating pulp mysteries beneath the register.
But when she walked into the shop, Veronica’s stomach dropped.  A pink-haired woman sat far too close to Betty to be anything but a customer.  She leaned forward to whisper something, and Betty let out a peal of laughter.  Veronica set the food down and watched, irritation rising climbing like ivy in her throat.
When the woman finally left, Veronica made her way over to Betty’s station as casually as she could manage.  She knew she was being unreasonable; after all, Betty was allowed to have friends Veronica didn’t know about.  It wasn’t as if they were dating.
“Who was that?” Veronica asked, her eyes locked on a photo of the old Riverdale rail station.
“An old friend,” Betty said.  She wiped down the station, seemingly unaware of Veronica’s frustration.  “I think you’d like Toni, you two are a lot alike.”
That turn of phrase sparked a fuse and Veronica couldn’t help but grip the pearls at her throat.  Despite the innocent, entirely plausible explanation - and Veronica’s bone deep conviction that Betty wasn’t that kind of person - the afterimage sat at the forefront of her mind.  The pair were too casual, too close emotionally, for Veronica’s demons not to flare up.
“What’s up?” Betty prompted.  “I thought we were going to meet at the Wyrm later tonight.”
Veronica shrugged, still playing at nonchalance, and walked towards the waiting area.  She picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages to keep her hands still. On every page, Toni’s smiling face, inches from Betty’s, stared back at her.  They’d been dating a few weeks, and yet Veronica had never felt that sort of closeness with Betty.
It was the realization that Veronica wanted that sort of connection was frightening.  She was a Lodge, after all, and love was never an option.  Not unless it came with strings and attachments, political and social gains otherwise closed off to her family.  As a Lodge, hers was a morbid, skeptical view of love.  And how could it not be, after all the role models she’d had in her life?
And yet, what she had with Betty felt more solid, more real.  It was a mutually beneficial relationship where Betty expected nothing more than a little of Veronica’s time.
“I closed up early,” Veronica finally said.  She dropped the magazine on the table and forced as much carelessness into her voice as she could manage.  “I thought we might eat in tonight.  I didn’t realize you had company.”
Betty grimaced - apparently Veronica’s attempt at nonchalance had fallen flatter than a late May rain garden.  A pang of guilt went through Veronica; yet she couldn’t help but twist the knife.  It was the only other hobby her mother had shared with her.
“V, you know I’m booked solid -“
Veronica waved her off and pulled on her jacket.  “It’s fine.  I’ve got things to take care of.  Enjoy dinner.”
She stormed out of the door, ignoring Betty’s call.  Something broke against the wall and Veronica forced herself to keep moving.  
Whatever this was had taken root deep within her very cells, but a few days in New York would be more than enough to uproot it.
-
It had taken a week before Betty showed up in the flower shop.  The look on her face told Veronica not to try and pretend they weren’t anything more than neighbors.  Despite Veronica’s refusal to take any texts, calls, or dms from Betty, it seemed the stubborn blonde worked on an entirely different plane.
“What’s going on?” Betty asked, ignoring the customer Veronica was helping.
Veronica finished setting the baby’s breath among the white roses - a strange, uninspiring choice for a get well bouquet - before acknowledging her, a move that only served to irritate Betty further.
Thankfully, Betty waited until they were alone to round on her.
“Why have you been ignoring me?”
Veronica lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.  A coy move, meant to signify her own feigned indifference.  Betty crossed her arms and fixed her with a stare.
With a sigh, Veronica said, “I don’t know.”
“Seriously?”
“Look, this isn’t easy for me,” Veronica snapped.  She picked at the left over cuttings. Idly she arranged and rearranged them into strange shapes that seemed to reflect her own indecision.  “I’ve never had… I’ve never …”
Somehow, despite all her own musings on the subject, the words about why Betty affected her so much wouldn’t come.  
“Who was she?”
Betty quirked an eyebrow.  “Who?”
“That woman with the pink hair.”
“Is that what this is about?” Betty sighed and walked towards a nearby plant stand that held a range of hyacinths.  Her hand grazed over the yellow petals as she regarded Veronica.  “Toni and I grew up together.  Now she’s engaged to my cousin.”
The air went out of the room and Veronica sagged against the table.  She felt as foolish, as silly as she knew she was being.
“Oh.”
“Veronica,” Betty began, her hands still grasping the flowers, “if we’re going to make this work -“
The world shifted, and suddenly all Veronica could see and hear was Betty.  It couldn’t possibly be this simple.  It never was.  Betty was after something, and now that Veronica had misstepped it would finally come to light.
“-you have to talk to me about these things.  I don’t want to lose you over something as stupid as jealously.”
“That’s it?”
Betty gave her a sharp, bewildered look that sent waves of guilt through Veronica.  Veronica dropped her eyes to the cuttings in front of her.  It was strange, truly, how much she wanted Betty to understand.  They both came with familial baggage; the only question was whether that baggage would match in the long run.
“I’m sorry,” Veronica said with a wince.  “It’s just… everyone’s always had these … expectations of me.  There was always something they wanted.  Comes with my father’s legacy I suppose,” she scoffed.
When she looked up, she was startled to find Betty standing in front of her.  With a gentle smile, Betty took up Veronica’s hands in hers.  
“The only thing I want from you is a little of your time,” Betty said.  With a sly grin, she added, “And maybe that yellow flower over there.”
Veronica huffed out a laugh.  “The hyacinth?”  
Betty nodded.
“No, not that one,” Veronica said.  She slipped her hands from Betty’s and walked to the far aisle.  It was easy to know what she was looking for, even though she knew the meaning would be lost.  
When she set the plant in front of Betty, Veronica’s heart fluttered at her smile.  
“It’s gorgeous,” Betty murmured.  Her fingers toyed with the long yellow leaves.  “A daffodil, right?”
Veronica nodded.
“What does it mean?” Betty asked.
“New beginnings.”  Veronica bit her lip, oddly shy.  “And forgiveness.”
Betty grinned and leaned over the counter to press a kiss to Veronica’s forehead.  “You won’t always be able to buy me off with flowers.  And you promise to talk these things through with me in the future.”
“I promise, so long as you give me a chance.”
-
Late one evening, as the neon lights cast a blue and red glow across Betty’s bare skin, Veronica lay her head on Betty’s chest, her breath heavy and her skin still flush with sweat.  The sound of her heartbeat lulled Veronica into a meditative state as a contented drowsiness began to take hold.
“I’ve got issues,” Veronica breathed.  Her confession, honest and vulnerable, slipped out of her without a second thought.
Betty’s chuckle was laced with sleep.  She wrapped an arm around Veronica’s shoulder, her long fingers tracing patterns along the skin.  “We all have issues V.”
Veronica raised up on her elbows.  Betty’s hair fanned out around her, a pink halo in the neon light, with her eyes half closed in satiety.  
“Give me yours, then,” Veronica said with a sudden protectiveness.
“Only if you give me yours,” came the swift reply.  
Veronica held up her pink, and Betty grasped it with her own.  Sealed with a kiss, Veronica settled back against Betty for the long haul.
30 notes · View notes
albarivas · 3 years
Text
ana de armas, cis female, she/her    —    whenever i see alba rivas meandering down agnes street la escalera by pablo alborán starts to play inside my head. maybe it is the vibe they give off. bullet journals, colorful dresses, hairstyles with bandanas ;   you know ? artistic impressions is what keeps them interested in agnes. i heard they are a thirty-three year old teacher at bright future. they look like the kind of person who would make you do a vision board. 
Tumblr media
hi again, it’s ella again. okay so i had cameron (the lily james) but tbh she’s a new muse and right now i don’t have the brain to develop a muse from scratch but i still want to write and that’s why i decided to bring alba, one of my oldest muses. i’m so happy to give her a new home and i can’t wait for her to meet all of your characters.
basics
NAME: alba carolina rivas borges
NICKNAME: al, albie
GENDER: cis female
PLACE OF BIRTH: boca raton, florida
DATE OF BIRTH: april 19, 1988
AGE: thirty-thirty
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
OCCUPATION: teacher at bright future
background
tw: illness, cheating
CHILDHOOD
her story starts between cuba and spain. her mother, carolina, fled from cuba and her father immigrated from spain with no friends or family and only with a few dollars. the two newcomers were matched by fate and just a year later they welcomed their daughter, alba.
two years later, a son completed the rivas family. they didn’t have much and often had to deal with homesickness and many times they considered moving to spain, but eventually they decided to stay.
it was a big change for both julián and carolina. he used to work as a lawyer back in spain and carolina had almost graduated from med school. now in the united states they both had to start from zero.
her mother traveled an hour from boca raton to palm spring every day where she worked cleaning those luxurious houses.  her father got his credentials to become a spanish teacher and taught in the local high school.
alba always knew she didn’t have much. she grew up going with her mom to those huge houses and from a young age she understood what wealth could buy. however, alba never envied those who had a lot more than her. in fact, her childhood best friend was the girl that lived in the house her mother cleaned. the two were inseparable.
ADOLESCENCE AND COLLEGE YEARS
alba excelled as a student. education was something her parents always deemed as important and so she made it her goal to make them proud. 
she earned a spot in a prestigious public high school. as a teenager, she was the model child. always listening to her parents, rarely giving them problems. she had an active social life, she went on a couple of dates and she was part of several groups.
these qualities eventually earned her a place at nyu. moving to new york was something she’d never considered. she liked florida, and her family were there but her parents convinced her that this would be a great opportunity and that she could comeback.
becoming a teacher was her ambition. she admired her father for doing it and she knew from a young age that she wanted to teach children. 
to make ends meet, she got a job as a waitress and she really didn’t have a social life as she worked and studied full time. there was no time for friendship and even less time for dating.
it was during one day at work that she met someone that changed her life. she met another student while she was working who asked her out but she refused, however, he came back and did the same thing every night until one day she finally accepted.
one date turned into two and then three until soon people couldn’t see one without the other. most people thought they wouldn’t last, their personalities and values were too different. he came from a wealthy family, the typical spoiled kid that was set to inherit his parents’ fortune someday, the one that always featured on page six with a different woman every night. meanwhile, alba came from a working-class family, daughter of immigrants who always had to work to get what she had in life. despite the skepticism, they proved everyone wrong.
at twenty-two, alba graduated with a degree in early childhood education and began working as a teacher.
ADULTHOOD
her relationship with this guy (i dont have a name for him lmao) was better than ever and after dating for three years, he proposed and alba said yes as she was convinced she’d found her other half.
however, not everything was perfect. his family didn’t like her and things only got worse after they got engaged. the couple married only a year later. they left new york and moved to florida where they bought one of those houses alba always had dreamed to have and the best part is that they were neighbors with her childhood best friend.
but all good things must come to an end, and soon her fairytale turned into a nightmare. the relationship with her in-laws was awful which eventually caused tension in their marriage. they began to fight more often and he started to spend more time at his office than at home. however, she was determined to make their marriage work, a love like theirs couldn’t end like this, she wouldn’t allow it.
tw cheating: one day, alba returned to their home early and what she saw was heartbreaking. there he was, in bed with none other but her childhood best friend. heartbroken, alba refused to accept any of his excuses and immediately filed for divorce, to the joy of her in-laws. end of tw.
after her divorce, alba moved to california where she started a year course at stanford. she planned to stay there but that when she received news from home.
tw illness: her father was very sick, and her parents had decided to move to islebury, rhode island. without anything holding her back, she packed up her stuff and moved here as well so she could help her mother with her dad. end of tw.
she’s been living here for three years now and works as a teacher at bright future.
personality
She has the ability to see the good in almost anyone or anything and tends to sympathize with even the most unfriendly person. She often hides the extreme depth of feelings from her, even from herself, until circumstances elicit a passionate response. 
She has a deep sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities and potentials and is governed by her intuition. She is quite reserved and is not easily manipulated.
She is a good listener and considerate, they try to care for and understand others in a deep way. She can be very calm and intuitive with the people around her, being able to search for hidden meanings in the actions and words of others.
Of course, all of life is not rosy and Alba is not exempt from suffering the same disappointments and frustrations that are common to others. She tends to be a perfectionist and often strives for personal ideals that can be exhausting or very difficult to obtain.
headcanons
she’s a bookworm. her favorite book is the persuasion by jane austen
she speaks fluent spanish
alba has a beautiful white persian cat named nube
she loves wearing bandanas in her hair
claims she’s allergic to strawberries, she’s not. she just hates them and that’s easier than explaining why
connections
Younger brother: I’m gonna make a wanted connection because I love this dynamic. He is two years younger than her and she adores him. She tries to stay in touch with him and in general, they are close.
Ex-best friend: they met as children and grew up together, they knew everything about the other. alba’s mother worked as a housekeeper and she used to go with her sometimes, that’s how they met. this person came from a different background, she lived in one of those expensive houses alba could only dream to own. their friendship was so strong that they even applied to the same university (although her friend was not accepted). alba considered this person as the sister she never had, but then she did the worst thing in the world, she slept with alba’s husband. they haven’t spoken since she found out.
Ex-husband: They divorced two years ago, after alba found out he had been cheating on her with her best friend. they met while she was a student at NYU and were together for three years before getting engaged and married. he comes from a wealthy family, the typical perfect american family. their relationship was never approved by his parents. she hasn’t spoken to him since the divorce.
Best Friendish: Okay, so this is a tricky one because her actual best friend turned into Judas and slept with her husband, but maybe this person is the closest she has to a best friend. she trusts this person and since her divorce, this is the only person that she has been able to speak without limitations.
Bad influence: Alba has never been one to go to many parties or even to drink, but this person is the only one that can convince her to have a good time.
Co-workers/Parents: She works as a teacher at bright future, maybe your character works there or their kids go/went there.
Neighbor: self-explanatory
Unlikely friendship: The two have different personalities, but somehow, both have managed to get along and form a weird friendship.
Hook ups: She’s not really the relationship kind bc she’s always busy but once in a while she hooks up with people ghdghdhgd (open to everyone)
Flirtationship: they act like friends, but cannot help to throw flirty looks or comments at each other.
Unrequited: It could go either way, I’m fine to plot it out. I’m an angst hoe sooo
Bad tinder date: after her divorce, her friends tried to set her up with someone but it didn’t go well. There was nothing wrong about her date, but she wasn’t ready and in the end it was a very uncomfortable situation for them.
One night stand: she was drunk, he/she was drunk too. They didn’t plan it but happened and now whenever they see each other in town it’s a bit awkward.
7 notes · View notes
Text
Blight | Epilogue
Tumblr media
Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]
Genre: Dragon/Shapeshifter AU, Magic AU, Enemies to Lovers
Warning(s): a very very brief mention of phantom pain, that’s it! 
Rated: PG-13
Words: 5.5k
Tumblr media
“Babe, we have to get up,” a distinctive voice grumbled from behind you after their fit of arm swings to knock the alarm clock off its perch on the bedside table ended. Although a sentence of action, both you and the man laying behind you were reluctant to move a single inch. The mattress too soft, the morning sun from the window too warm and the small, soft hum of the music playing from his phone too tempting to fall back asleep to. 
You felt him move around behind you.  His legs that were between yours like zipper teeth moved to untangle and left your skin cold. You grumbled when he moved and took his arms away from your waist next and rolled so the warmth of his chest left your back.  
The box spring whined under the weight movement on the mattress as he sat up and stretched behind you.  He planted his hands beside him as he looked at you, still not moving.  He was tempted to set the alarm back off.  It used to take an army to get him up, but after living with you and sleeping beside you for so long- he’s learned that you were harder to wake up than he was.  He chuckled and you heard him and pushed your chin under the blanket that was over your shoulder.  Content on ignoring him and going back to bed. 
“Y/n, seriously.  We have to go to Jimin’s today.  If we don’t we may not see our son again for another week,” Jungkook teased behind you.  You finally squint open your eyes as you looked over your shoulder to your dragon husband.  His golden, shirtless body fresh of sleep gleaming too brilliantly for the early hour.
When you both finally graduated, Jungkook had already been making plans on where you would live after you both got booted out of the dorms after graduation. Yoongi had already moved back in with his dad until he got his own place and Jimin also joined the little family in the small cottage.  You didn’t want to impose on Parrish- who you finally stopped calling Uncle and started calling dad- and overfill the house. 
Instead, Jungkook offered to get a place together.  It wasn’t so surprising seeing as Jungkook had been your boyfriend for 3 years by that time.  It took nearly two weeks before you both were sitting down and signing a lease for a suburban house in the city. Along with that, you both chose to take on typical human jobs in the city you lived in as opposed to magic-based jobs most bewitched graduates aim for. 
When you first started moving in, Yoongi and Jimin had come to help.  Jimin helped you set things up while Yoongi and Jungkook carried in boxes and furniture. Jimin quite enjoyed it, so much that when he convinced Yoongi to move to the same city as you and Jungkook with him, he applied to a company in need of an interior designer.  Yoongi got a small-time job at some edgy-teen shop but was somehow contacted by some clothes designer to be used as a model.  He’s been with them ever since. 
Now, later and you still lived in that same house you got with Jungkook.  You were currently out of a job, since your last one laid you off- the assholes- and Jungkook worked at a small daycare about 10 minutes down the main road. You never actually knew the extent of how much Jungkook liked kids until you went to bring him the lunch he forgot at home on the counter and saw him with two kids tucked under each arm, swinging in circles like an out of control carousel. 
He was also one out of only a few men who worked there, the remaining staff of females all had nothing but good things to say about your hubby.  He was good with kids and they said he had a special knack for getting them to stop crying. Some say it was because his rosy pink hair made the kids feel like their talking to a superhero. Of course, the staff also knew about him being a dragon- he accidentally let it slip when he was caught blowing fire into the oven to heat it up faster- not the wisest idea. 
However, his dragon traits worked out- especially in the case of the little girls who wanted to play ‘princess’ in the fake, plastic castle outside by the sandbox. Jungkook was always the dragon and was always being ‘slain’ by the little boy who came to rescue the princess. They gave him a cookie each time they played though- as a reward. 
To follow, you remember when you got engaged to Jungkook who was right now nudging your shoulder to wake you up. He had dressed up to impress- an ironed button-up shirt in the softest shade of yellow, tucked into light jeans that complimented his lower half almost too well.  The belt around his waist reminded you just how small it was. His hair was brushed and pulled just out of his face enough to show his forehead- you knew he had to have gone to the salon for that. 
He urged you to get dressed because he was taking you on a spontaneous date with the reason being ‘he just wanted to’.  You, having no reason to argue, went with him before he was taking you outside and walking around.  
Down past downtown, there was a giant park for people to visit and walkthrough.  With hedges of flowers, to circles paths with fountains and benches, a playground for kids and even a small theatre for outside performances. Of course, the entire place was littered with trees and being the middle of autumn at the time, leaves of all colors were being blown off branches and onto the ground for someone to step on them with a satisfying crunch. 
He asked you to marry him when he stopped you in front of one of the fountains with a small, silver ring to offer you.  You cried and so did he before he was calling Jimin to say that you had said yes to him.  Of course, all he got from Yoongi was a short congratulations and a threat to not do anything to you or else the warlock would be after some new, shiny pink scales. 
However, when Yoongi texted you later that evening, he unraveled a long, heartfelt congratulations to you.  Ending it with the fact that you deserved to be happy and if it had to be anyone, he was glad you were marrying Jungkook. 
“Oh please,” you slurred, finally starting to wake up against your will. “Jimin loves Eli,” you finished.  For the past three days, Jimin and Yoongi had been babysitting their nephew, your son, simply because Jimin whined he didn’t get to see him enough.  With the argument of ‘what if he grows up and doesn’t know me, that cannot happen!’, you yield and allowed the sleepover for 3 days to commence. It had been an extended weekend, so your 6-year-old son didn’t have school until tomorrow. Which is precisely why you needed to pick him up to bring him home today. 
“I know,” Jungkook chuckled.  “That’s what worries me.  If he spends a fourth day over there, he’s gonna get re-adopted by Jimin.” 
You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless, started to get up. The possibility of Jungkook’s joke is a little bit too accurate.  Jungkook moved swiftly, grabbing under your arm to lift you to sit up as he held your hand.  He had this thing about looking at your wedding band every morning when he woke up.  He still laughs remembering the fit you put up when you realized you couldn’t put a wedding ring on your left hand if you don’t have a left hand.  So, he had to swap out your engagement ring with your wedding one on your right hand.  
You yawned again, checking the time.  Almost 9am.  You run your hand over your face before flipping your hair out of your face and beginning to scoot out of bed, inch by inch.  Jungkook bounded out of bed quicker than you did as he jogged to your side and helped you stand.  
You had pretty much got used to your life with only your right arm.  You’ve had many people say that you could always work something out to get a prosthetic or even a whole new arm with magic, but you always refused. You had made a decision a long time ago, and your price was paid.  You wouldn’t go back on that- you’re too stubborn. 
Jungkook had you on your feet in moments as he pushed your hair out of your eyes and behind your head.  He could still see the sleep clouding in your eyes as he smiled and kissed your forehead.  
“Take a shower first,” he told you as he moved to take you out of the bedroom with a hand on your back. “We can go get Eli and take him out for lunch or something, I’ll call Jimin to tell him.” You wordlessly nodded, biting back another yawn as you both separated in the hall as Jungkook pat your ass.  You went to the bathroom as Jungkook went to the kitchen. 
You washed your sleepiness away in the warm shower that steamed up the bathroom before you were washing your hair.  An everyday chore that became a talent when you learned how to do it all one-handed.  You had to relearn a lot of things one-handed, but you thought of yourself as a talented woman if you could do all that and more with one arm.  
When you got out and wrapped a towel around your chest, you padded back into your bedroom to go through your clothes to get something decent to wear out.  You’ve been a bum the past 3 days.  Without Eli begging to go somewhere and not picking him up from places, as well as Jungkook being the only working parent at the moment, you had no reason to leave the house. So it had been pj's and messy hair for 3 straight days.  
Slipping on the least sexy pair of underwear you owned, but the most comfortable of all, you clipped on your bra and paraded around your room to your closet with your hair up in a towel wad.  It was warm out now, the threshold between spring and summer getting closer each passing day.  
Shrugging, you pulled out an off-shoulder white blouse with ruffles along the top of the fabric and a pair of black and white, pen-stripped shorts you had practically drooled at the moment you saw them in the store.  Your blouse made it openly obvious to any onlooker you were missing your arm, yet the frills that hung off the sleeves and across the chest were just long enough to hide the scar left behind where your arm used to be. 
The open shoulders also let anyone who happened to look at you see the bright, white tattoo on your shoulder and down your chest.  An open display of your connection with your husband who happened to double as your familiar.  
Pulling on some black socks one by one, you took your brush from your dresser top (you had two, one you kept in the bathroom and the other in the bedroom for your random urges to brush your tangled hair) and made your way to Jungkook. Following the sounds of clanking dishes in the kitchen along with the smell of borderline burnt toast. 
Walking around the corner, you saw Jungkook snatch the toast just as soon as it popped up out of the toaster.  Plopping it on his plate and smearing on an absurd amount of butter that melted almost immediately, you almost rolled your eyes.  You eyed his back in silence, looking at the large, blotched scar on his back. The same scar you have nightmares about- the scar from the thunderbolt your father threw into his back all those years ago. 
You also moved to look at the large tattoo of white on his left arm.  Looking at it always made the vile bitterness in your mouth fade with the memory of his scar.  That tattoo made you feel like there were all sorts of candies in your mouth as the butterflies fluttered in your gut. 
“I can feel you staring at me,” he chuckled as he turned around.  He bit into the corner of his toast, crumbs falling and catching onto the tassels of his sweats he wore as pjs.  His face nearly split in half as he smiled and chewed, giggling between bites before the entire piece of bread was gone.  He still gets as giddy as he did the first day he saw that tattoo each time he sees it.  
“Can you tie my hair up for me today?” you asked him, a small pull on your lip as he was starting to move around the island counter towards you before you stopped him. “Ah! Wash your hands first, butterfingers.” He just rolled his eyes and made a dramatic scene of him washing his hands, using wayyyy too much soap and then drying them off before he was making grabby hands for your hairbrush. “You are such a child,” you laughed at him as you handed it over.  
“I know,” he confirmed as he led you to a stool and sat you down, going behind you to pull your hair back and out of your face. “That’s what makes me such a catch.” He took a hair tie from the handle of the brush and put it between his teeth as he brushed with both the brush and his fingers.  “How do you want it?” He asked.  
You shrugged. “However? Just off my neck please.” He nodded, not that you could see it.  He knew that you didn’t like your hair on your neck when you were going out in what would shape up to be a hot afternoon.  Pinning it up first, he pushed your shoulders down when you moved to get up presuming he was done. 
“M’not done,” he murmured in concentration.  He had gotten a lot of practice doing hair from playing with the little girls at work.  Working with hair from sleeky and blonde to frizzy and untamable and curled beyond belief. You just sat still, letting him work.  He ran off once to grab something before he was back and was twisting and twirling your hair around his hand. He was pinning it with something before he was stepping back and clapping for himself for a job well done. “Alright, you can get up now.” 
You did so and automatically moved to the living room where a small mirror hung beside a photo of Jungkook, Eli and you from last year’s family photo shoot.  He had rolled your hair up into a bun behind your head and pinned it up with chopsticks. Well, one chopstick and a No.2 yellow pencil.  You bit back a laugh and just smiled at him.  
“It’s lovely, Jungkook,” you complimented.  The smile on his face made you happy to wear his chopstick and pencil hair-do.  “Go, get dressed and shower now.” You told him before he was kissing your cheek and running off to get ready for the day. 
Coming back out with a white t-shirt, jeans and boots that made him at least 3 inches taller. Along with a black bomber jacket on. His hair only partially brushed, but whatever. It worked. 
XXX
“Jimin! Hey, we’re here! I hope my son is too!” You called into the house as you and Jungkook walked inside.  You had a third key to Yoongi and Jimin’s apartment- Yoongi giving you one when he lost a bet with you. What bet? Well, the bet that Jimin wouldn’t ask him out on a date before valentine's day.  You bet that he would Yoongi was doubtful, but on February 13th, Jimin asked him to go on a date to the zoo (of all places). 
Of course, the relinquishment of their third key wasn’t all that bad, I mean Yoongi lucked out with a hot, hellhound boyfriend by the end of the day. He wouldn’t miss that key anyways. 
“Of course he is!” Yoongi yelled back. “He’s coloring with Jimin on the balcony!” He shouted in addition.  You and Jungkook took off your shoes as you both waltz into the familiar apartment.  Yoongi sat at his desk out in the living room, open tabs with words and photos on it.  You padded up behind your brother, peering over his shoulder.  Pictures of him in leather jackets and fishnet ripped jeans showing on the screen. 
“Oh, are these from your last photoshoot with- uh, what’s her name?” 
“It’s, Lily, and yes, it is. She wanted to do a greasy look, not sure how I’m feeling about it though.” He hummed as he pushed his knuckles into his cheek, bouncing his opinion of himself in his head.  
“I think it looks really good on you.” You told him as Jungkook popped up on his brother-in-law’s other side and smirked. 
“You look like a playboy,” he teased as Yoongi glared over his shoulder.  You nudged Jungkook with a hushed ‘don’t be mean’. “I mean it in the most attractive, positive and encouraging way possible. I promise.” 
“Whatever, snake boy.” Yoongi moved from his desk, closing the pictures and other windows before he was getting out of his chair and moving to the glass doors to the outside balcony.  It was surprisingly spacious and large.  Big enough for a small round table, two chairs and a little toy box with outside toys the boys kept at their place for when Eli does come over. 
He knocked on the glass to get the attention of the two boys outside that were out of sight.  He opened the door a bit before sticking his head out. 
“Hey, little man.  Mom and pops are here for you,” he spoke, a smile on his face. Yoongi opened the door fully as from around the corner, a small little ball of fury ran inside.  Jimin came into the glass door’s view right after.  His previous silver hair from school turned jet black due to his True Contract he formed with Yoongi. His eyes a permanent shade of silver as well.  
“Mama! Papa!” Your son, Eli, shouted as he ran from outside to inside and caught sight of his parents.  Jungkook knelt as Eli ran full force into his father’s arms as Jungkook didn’t hesitate to pick him up and swing him around.  Lowering him back down to sit at his waist and against his chest, Jungkook chuckled as Eli clung to him, wrapping his small arms around his dad to hug him.  
Jungkook set him down then as Eli turned to you as you knelt, hugging him on the ground.  It was harder for you to pick him up with one arm now that he was growing.  When he was younger it was easier.  
Jungkook and you both decided to adopt Eli 3 years ago.  When he was 3, he was chosen to be a part of your family.  He wasn’t a full human, but he was bewitched just like the rest of your family.  He wasn’t a Shifter like Jungkookor Jimin and he wasn’t a witch or warlock like you or Yoongi.  Instead, he was a sunsprite half-blood.  
His full head of blonde hair and golden eyes were enchanting and innocent to look at with his child demeanor.  His nose and cheeks dotted with freckles as his skin was tanned even darker than Jungkook’s.  He was the sweetest boy and you were happier every passing day that he was yours.  Eli knew that Jungkook and you weren’t his real mom and dad, but he still loved you anyway.  
You let go of your son as he moved to run back to Jimin outside who was talking to Yoongi at the glass door.  Jimin looked down at him, smiling as he bent down to talk to him as you raise yourself back to your feet. 
“What’s up?” Jimin asked. 
“I have to clean up my toys!” Eli chirped.  He was such a well behaved boy.  Jimin nodded as he stood back up, taking Eli’s hand. 
“Alright! Uncle Jimin will help you!” He giggled as the two disappeared behind the wall and ran back and forth with the toys that previously littered the balcony.  Yoongi moved to sit on the couch and picked up a book he had bookmarked on the coffee table next to a mug of cold coffee.  Or, well previously cold coffee that he heated up with magic as he took a sip.  
For such a well-rounded warlock, graduating the top of his class and getting the rank of A-Class warlock, he sure decided to forego and use his magic for mundane things.  Heating up his cold beverages just being one of the many things he does.  
Jungkook moved to sit down on a recliner as you moved to sit beside Yoongi, asking him about his book before asking how Eli was over the course of his stay. 
“He’s been fine, Y/n.  You and Jungkook do a good job teaching him things.  He’s not a hard kid,” Yoongi reassured.  You often wondered if you were doing a good job raising Eli, seeing as you didn’t have the best upbringing. The fear always struck hardest when you were waking up in the middle of the night or just randomly jumping into pain in the living room.  The moments your arm burned with phantom pain and when Eli was crying holding his sun warm hands to your arm as Jungkook held you. You son asking over and over ‘is mama okay?’. That’s when it was hardest.  
Jungkook always reassured you every time though.  “He always went to bed without a fuss and Jimin read to him when he wasn’t sleepy.  He picked up after himself and he didn’t splash when he took a bath. All is well with the world and Eli,” Yoongi finished.  
“Okay. I just get worried, you know.” You smiled.  Yoongi pat your leg before he was pinching your cheek.  
“I know,” he told you with that flat, soft smile that pushed at his cheeks he only gave to you- his little sister.  
“Hey,” Jungkook interrupted the conversation, getting you and Yoongi to look at him. “We’re gonna take Eli to lunch, do you and Jimin want to come with us?” Jungkook offered.  You smiled before looking at Yoongi.  It took a long time for Jungkook to actually get accustomed to Yoongi’s presence once again.  After you and him began a couple and the True Contract was finalized, Yoongi seemed to glare at him every time he saw him.  Jungkook was the teensiest bit scared of the overpowered warlock and his overkill familiar- not that he’d admit it.  
Him asking your brother and his boyfriend out to lunch with you- his wife- and his child was a big step from where he was years ago.  Yoongi seemed to think a bit before he smiled and shut his eyes, shaking his head. 
“Nah, we’ll let the happy family have their own lunchtime together.  We spent 3 days with him, you can have him back.” You felt a little disappointed. A big family lunch was always fun, but you didn’t force him.  You missed having quality time outside with your husband and child anyways.  So, you won in the end regardless. 
Soon, Jimin came back inside with Eli on his back. The toys picked up and back into the box outside. The glass door was shut and locked, the yellow drapes being pulled shut as Jimin let the young boy slide down his back to his feet. Yoongi got up off the couch as he started to make his way down the hall into the bedroom Eli had been staying in.  
“Come on, little man. Let’s get your stuff.  Your mom and pops are gonna take you out today.” Eli’s little face lit up with a glow that mimicked the sun as he ran to his uncle’s side and grabbed his hand.  Holding it as they walked into his room and started getting his things together.  Yoongi denied it, but he was so good with kids.  
Jimin walked to you, plopping down beside you, opposite of where Yoongi was sitting before.  He smiled, his wrinkled t-shirt obviously the same one he woke up in and never changed out of.  
“You look nice today, Y/n.”  He complimented as you smiled.  
“Thanks.  You look comfy.” 
“I am!” He laughed as he slouched back on the couch’s arm.  Jungkook behind him rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lazy behavior. The three of you started talking and somehow the conversation devolved to one about Yoongi’s photoshoot far too quickly.  Jungkook told him about how he looked like a heartbreaker and how you thought he looked nice.  Jimin began to go on and on about how he thought the look in question looked great on him and that leather looked especially good on his boyfriend.  
“‘Cuse me, how about you stop this conversation now,” Yoongi piped up with a heated face as he came back into the room with Eli.  A small, ninja turtle backpack on his shoulders and a spiderman lunch box filled with coloring books and crayons at his side. Yoongi never did take compliments well, especially when they're coming from his boyfriend about the way he looks in leather. 
When Jungkook started teasing him, Yoongi told Eli to cover his eyes, in which the child did promptly, and then slim ribbons of black lifted Jungkook to the ceiling, hanging him upside down until he apologized.  To which, Yoongi unsympathetically dropped him on his back.  When Eli uncovered his eyes, he laughed loudly at his dad upside down on the recliner.  
Soon, the trio were standing at the front door.  Eli helping his mom put her flats on, even if she didn't need the help and Jungkook strapping on his boots.  Jimin and Yoongi stood with them, Yoongi’s arm casually around Jimin’s shoulders. 
Eli pulled on his shoes, singing a little song he learned at school on what shoe to put on which foot.  The weak, led lights under his feet when he stomped lighting up a shade of red when he stood up and hopped.  Eli waved to Yoongi as he high-fived Jimin’s outstretched hand. 
“Bye-bye Uncle Yoongi and Uncle Jimin!” Eli cheered as he was soon ushered out the door by Jungkook who was already starting the car and racing Eli to the back seat to put him in his booster seat.  He was still too small to be without one. You turned to the two men. 
“Thanks for watching him, I think he enjoyed himself,” you giggled.  You had no doubt lunch and the car ride home would be filled with stories of what he did with his two uncles.  
“I love having him over, any longer and I would’ve just adopted him myself,” Jimin joked.  
“Yeah, Jungkook said that too,” you told him.  Jimin opened his mouth in offense as Yoongi laughed.  Shooing you out before Jimin really does march outside and take your child from Jungkook and locks the front door.  
As you knew, once you were in the passenger seat and Jungkook started driving, Eli started yammering on about all the fun he had.  He talked about the shadow plays Yoongi put on about fairy tales.  Or how Jimin would shift into his hellhound form and would carry Eli on his back- something Jimin would need to stop doing before Eli got too much bigger. 
You watched him through the rearview mirror as Jungkook was part of the conversation while diligently watching the road.  One hand of his was on the wheel, the other in your lap.  
When you three pulled up to Eli’s favorite little fast food place with a giant play area, he was nothing but cheers and promises to behave. While you and Jungkook were easy-going parents, you’ve taken him home a handful of times due to his behavior or the occasional temper tantrum.  Jungkook turned off the car and turned in his seat to look at the sparkling, gold eyes of his son. 
“You promise not to be a bad kid? You’re gonna listen to Mama and Papa today?” Jungkook asked as Eli nodded fervently.  Jungkook reached out to him, offering his pink. “You promise Papa?” Eli quickly promised his dad with his pink as Jungkook smiled. “Alright. Then, let’s go eat and have some fun.” You got out of the car as Jungkook unlatched Eli from his seat and the three of you went inside.  
Eli spent over an hour playing with the other kids who were playing in the play area. Climbing walls, going down slides, and speaking through connected, plastic bullhorns. He loved coming here and you didn’t mind him blowing off his energy.  He’d sleep well at least.  Jungkook sat beside you on the bench for parents that ran along the room’s perimeter, his arm over your shoulders long the top of the bench.  
You both spoke with other parents about how the kids always had fun.  Even a few staff members spoke to you, you both being here often due to Eli’s love of the place you got familiar with some staff.  You’ve even gotten a few coupons for your next visit too. Sometimes it pays to be a regular.  
When Eli was done playing, Jungkook drove to the park when Eli asked if he could go see the flowers.  He loved the flowers in the park because that’s where his mama and papa adopted him- or so they told him. He was too young to remember- only being three.  
When the three of them got out Eli watched as Jungkook walked to your right.  Eli opened his mouth, but shut it and whined.  You turned around as your son was soon motioning for Jungkook.  Jungkook looked at you before he knelt and let his son whisper in his ear.  Jungkook rolled his lips over his teeth as he smiled and ruffled his son's sunny, blonde hair. 
“Of course you can hold Mama’s hand, silly kid.” Jungkook chuckled as he poked Eli’s stomach.  He had left his backpack and lunch box in the car as Jungkook locked it up and Eli jumped to your side.  He grabbed your right hand with his left before he reached out his empty right hand. He smiled. 
“Papa can hold my hand too!” He cheered as Jungkook nearly fell to his knees.  The sunny smile of his cute son almost too much to handle.  He took his son’s hand as the three of you started walking through the park.  The two of you swung him from time to time before he wanted to sit down because his feet hurt.  
The three of you sat on a bench in front of the same fountain Jungkook asked you to marry you at. Before long, Eli- still holding both of your hands- hand slumped against your chest, falling asleep.  Before long he was passed out in a small nap as you just smiled at him.  Jungkook brushed his child’s hair from his face before he leaned over and kissed his head.  
“I think he had fun today,” you softly spoke.  Jungkook nodded.  
“He’ll be out for a while, but we’ll wake him up soon so he can sleep tonight,” Jungkook recalled he had school and ran through a checklist of what to do when they all got home.  Empty out his backpack of fun weekend toys and storybooks and refill it with his pencil box and letter books for school.  
“That’s true,” you replied. “You get to wake him up through,” you teased.  Leaving the job of ‘bad parent’ to Jungkook.  He gasped lightly before he sneered at you with a smile.  His nose scrunching up before he was kissing your cheek again.  
He leaned his head on your shoulder as he kept brushing his fingers through his son’s blonde head of soft hair.  Poking his freckled cheek on occasion as Eli kept a firm hold on both yours and Jungkook’s hands. 
“Are you happy, Y/n?” He asked out of nowhere.  You looked at the crown of his rosy dragon hair.  You smiled as you kissed his head to which you felt his cheeks lift as he smiled against your shoulder.  “I’m making you happy right? We’re making you happy?” He gestured to Eli. 
“You both make me more than happy. It’s hardly even a question.” You assured as he relaxed more on your shoulder.  Before long you were having to wake up both your son and your husband who fell asleep on your shoulder on the park he proposed in. The park where you started your own family.  
Yes, you were oh so happy. 
247 notes · View notes
antihero-writings · 3 years
Text
Premonitions 
Fandom: Pandora Hearts
Character Focus: Glen (Oswald) Baskervlle, Jack Vessalius, Vincent Nightray, Gilbert Nightray, Kevin Regnard, Oz Vessalius 
Summary: Jack, Glen, Vincent, and Gilbert thought they were going on a relaxing vacation in the mountains, but a creature from The Abyss has a bit of an adventure in store...or is it a warning? 
(Written for the Phmonth19 Tragedy Trio prompts "Wolf," "Ruins," and "Winter.")
(For those who’d like some Glen, Jack, Vince, and Gil cuteness. There's at least a little of that here, which was super fun to write. )
Notes: If you can believe it, this is actually a fic for Phmonth19! It was for the Tragedy Trio prompts "Wolf," "Ruins," and "Winter." 
I liked a lot of the prompts during Phmonth19, and wanted to find a way to use multiple simultaneously. I liked the idea, but ended up struggling with where I wanted to go with it, and having too much to do during Phmonth19, so it didn't get written then. But I liked it enough to continue it and return to it eventually.
I hope you enjoy it even so!! Please know that when you comment you are both making my entire week, and motivating me to keep writing more fics like this one!!
Premonitions
A young boy weaved in and out of the crumbling artifices, hopping down from a half-broken wall to a mossy ledge on a lower level of the ruins. It was probably a room in the past. It wasn’t now.
They’d warned him not to go in here. But if forbidding something was incentive for most kids, it was practically a command to him.
They told him it was dangerous, unsafe, that anything could fall and crush him, or crumble beneath him, not to mention that there was a sort of energy here: it infected people, made them into madmen and monsters, and if said monstrosities didn’t attack and kill you…you might just become one yourself.
As if he needed a better invitation.
Most regretfully, he hadn’t found any horrifying monstrosities yet. Just a bunch of cracked stones and sewer rats looking for corpses to clean off. Occasionally something shimmered in the dirt, but more often than not it was just a rusted piece of metal, or cracked bit of glass.
He kicked up a board to see a dagger laying there. He frowned, considering it, before picking it up, examining the details on the hilt. Might make a nice souvenir if he could manage to clean the rust off.
He couldn’t help but wonder what happened here. People said this place was dropped into the Abyss, that it had become a hole to swallow all that dared to enter. But what exactly did that mean? He’d heard of the Abyss, and the Chains that lived within, but never of anything other than sinners being dropped into it. What kind of atrocities had everyone there committed to warrant the whole city being dropped into the Abyss?
He kicked another rock, before glancing up, his red eyes widening.
A wolf sat in front of him.
He hadn’t even heard its footsteps. It just sat there on the wall above him, swishing its tail. He took a few steps back.
It was gold and ethereal, its tail long and wispy, like a gust of wind frozen into flesh. Said tail flicked back and forth. White eyes left trails in the air—like slits in a mask, only letting the golden light inside it break through the eyes—yet they held no mal intent—(he’d learned to be able to see that, to feel it, almost). It seemed intelligent.
Was this one of the monstrosities they warned him about?
His hand tightened around the dagger.
The wolf stood, but after it took a few steps forward it looked over its shoulder as if to ask “Are you coming?”
The boy took a step forward himself, to run after its disappearing tail, compelled by some inclination; he knew he ought to follow it, that it wanted to show him something.
“Kevin! Kevin!” A familiar voice called from far away. “I’ll not have you sullying the Regnard name with another one of your insolent games! If you get eaten by some Chain you’ll only have yourself to blame!”
When Kevin looked back the wolf was gone.
*****
Jack breathed deeply through his nose, as he entered the cabin, then breathed out just as noisily.
“Smell that mountain air! I just love the snow, don’t you? I always feel like something’ amazing is going to happen!”
Glen rolled his eyes, dropping their bags—(which Jack had made him carry inside, citing the fact that he was carrying Vincent).
“Say, Jack…” the boy sitting on his shoulders spoke, “do you think we’ll see the northern lights up here?”
“I don’t know! …What do you think, Glen?”
“Probably not.”
“Aww!” Vincent pouted, bumping his fist on Jack’s head.
“Ow!” Jack reacted in an over exaggerated way.
“Eh! I’m sorry!”
When Jack had found out about the cabin the Baskervilles owned in the mountains he knew it would be the perfect place to spend a few days relaxing and playing in the snow—and what better way to remember how to have fun than to bring Gilbert and Vincent along?
When Jack brought up this idea, Glen had blatantly refused. Ever the responsible leader, Glen didn’t take vacations from his duties. But lately he had started having conversations with the rose bushes, and everyone agreed he could stand a few days off.
Glen was just starting to unpack their stuff when—
“You guys want to go sledding?” This was Jack’s voice, of course.
It was a resounding “yes,” from the kids, complete with jumping up and down and shouting.
“We just arrived,” Glen grunted. “Wasn’t the point of this trip to relax?”
“And what better way to relax then hurling yourself down a snowy mountain on a thin piece of wood?”
Glen blinked. “Reading.”
Jack grabbed his arm, pulling him out into the snow. “Don’t be such a fuddy duddy. Come on!”
Glen glared at his friend as he promptly dragged him off into the snow.
Soon they were flying up to the tallest hill they could find on Raven, then, after they successfully reached the top, they proceeded to push each other down it on sleds, with much giggling and whooping (from everyone except Glen). When they reached the bottom, they would fly back up on Glen’s chains—(who seemed to enjoy the show).
At one point, a little while into the festivities, Vincent was waiting for his turn when something in the corner of his eye flickered. He turned to see in the woods, behind a tree, a creature.
Vincent froze when he met the wolf’s gaze, a shiver running up his spine, more than just the cold, his face twisting in fear.
“What’s wrong, Vince?” Jack put a hand on his shoulder, glancing from the terrified boy to the empty air he was fixating on.
The wolf ran in a figure eight around two of the trees, brushing up against them, its form leaving tracks in the air. Then it paused again to stare at the boy with white, smoky eyes.
It didn’t look completely there.
Vincent pointed shakily towards it.
Jack put a hand on his shoulder. “…Where?”
He pointed more emphatically.
“I’m sorry Vince, I…I don’t see anything.”
“What’s going on?” Glen asked, hopping off Raven and landing beside them with Gilbert in a flurry of black wings.
Vincent just kept pointing, his finger a vibrating signal.
Glen’s eyes widened.
“What is it?” Jack demanded.
“It’s a wolf. Or at least…” he paused, noticing the strange color, and misty nature of the creature.
“I don’t see it,” Gilbert said softly.
“That’s okay,” Jack crouched down by him, “Neither can I.” He stood back up to his full height, reasoning with Glen, “If you two can see it, and we can’t…”
Glen nodded at him, before taking a few steps forward, and finishing the thought:
“I think, more likely than not, its something from the Abyss.” He squinted at it, watching it playfully thread the trees. “I think it wants us to follow it.”
Vincent tensed at the idea.
Glen looked over his shoulder, his eyes flicking to the boy. “I can always go after it by myself if you’d like to return to the cabin.”
“Oh it’ll be fine! Don’t worry!” Jack took the hands of both boys. “With Master Glen with us, nothing’s going to hurt us!”
Glen rolled his eyes, but Jack’s words seemed to comfort them.
Un-summoning Raven, Glen walked in front, the other three following a short distance behind.
When the spectral wolf saw they were going to heed its call, it moved further into the forest, always dancing around the trees as it waited for them to catch up.
They followed it quite some ways—(especially since they were tired from all the sledding)—until the trees stopped abruptly in a cliff edge. Jack had to put his arms out in front of the boys to keep them from walking any further.
As they raised their eyes, they saw across the gorge a plateau.
“I-Is it still there?” Gilbert asked softly, looking all around them.
Vincent and Oswald looked around but the wolf wasn’t anywhere close to them.
“There!” Vince pointed after a moment. The wolf was across the gorge, weaving in and out of a stone ruin on the plateau.
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Gilbert asked nervously. “Maybe we’ve followed it far enough…”
Glen had already summoned Jabberwocky, and was currently climbing on its back.
“You coming?” He asked the group flatly, holding out his hand.
The three glanced at each other, before Jack helped the kids onto its back, and hopped on himself. Jack hugged the boys tightly, as Gilbert held just as tightly to Glen’s coat.
The wind was cold and biting as they flew through the air, but the ride was very brief, and they landed moments later in a puff of dust in the center of the ruins.
“What is this place?” Jack asked the air, and no one answered.
They ventured cautiously into the ruins, at first sticking together, but soon curiosity overtook them, and they each wandered in separate directions, captivated by different rooms. The place wasn’t too vast though, and thus didn’t allow them to stray too far from each other.
Glen found the throne room, or where it most likely once was; a huge empty room in the center of the ruins, empty, save for the collapsing chair, backed by the skeleton of a large window, holding broken pieces of colored glass. He slowly marched up to it, running his fingers along the ghost of the chair, looking out the window at the now frozen water far below, wondering what sort of king ruled here.
When he turned around, the wolf was sitting in the center of the room, swishing its tail at him. Glen was sure it wanted him to understand something, but he couldn’t quite discern what.
He noticed at the side of the room there was a large structure. At first he mistook it for a collapsed bit of wall, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was a piano. He set his fingers on a few of the notes, but they only gave a croak.
It’d been too long.
He lifted his head and raised his voice to ask the wolf about the place, and learn if it could respond, but it had moved on.
Gilbert found the old kitchen, the food there long since turned to compost for rats and roots. Then he found the servants’ quarters not too far from there, full of rotting bedframes and hungry mice, wondering what sort of servants were here, and if their king was as noble as Glen-sama.
He didn’t see the wolf pass beneath the doorframe behind him.
Vincent found a room that likely belonged to a child. It was faded, but there was paint on the walls: designs of flowers and vines. He almost stepped on a clay sculpting of a bird that may have served as a toy, once.
On a broken dresser he found a box which, once opened, turned out to play music, the notes discordant after years of rust and neglect.
He thought he saw something else, and lifted up the half-bug-eaten board. He immediately dropped it, wishing he hadn’t, the something that was there making him cover his mouth in shock and horror.
He felt a nudge at his back, and almost screamed, whirling around to see the wolf behind him. Fear glued his lips, welled his eyes with tears.
The wolf cocked its head to the side, as if confused by his fear. It licked his hand, and Vincent drew back, though it felt like a brush of wind.
“W-W-What do you want?!” He stammered.
But he could not understand the wolf’s words.
Jack descended a staircase a bit further out of the way and found—more in tact than much of the buildings—a dungeon.
It was a large stone room, lined with cells, sectioned off by rusting bars. He pressed one open with a creak and found an empty room, and a skeleton. He continued on until he found one without a skeleton, whose bars were bent, as if the person within had managed to escape through them. He entered through to find there was a journal in this one. He picked it up, brushed and blew off the dust and frost, the pages just as creaky and unwilling to budge as the doors.
He sat on the floor where he found it and began to read. Many of the pages were too damaged by time to read, the ink fading, the pages crinkling and crumbling, but he could make out at least bits of the story. It seemed the writer was in love with a girl, but, due to her being the ruler of this kingdom’s queen, they could never be together. As the pages continued, the writer seemed to grow more and more obsessed with her; his phrases containing less and less sense and sanity. Jack couldn’t tell exactly how he ended up in the dungeon, nor how he apparently broke out—if the bends weren’t made by weather or time—but in his not-quite-sane state, he must have done something very stupid. Maybe a lot of things.
When the final pages became too illegible, he looked up and saw in the waning sunlight, the tally marks on the wall. As he began to dust and defrost them, he realized the whole wall was covered in them. He ran his hand over the grooves, thinking of how long this person must have been left alone inside himself, and what that might do to a person.
He couldn’t see the wolf pacing around his feet, reading over his shoulder, couldn’t feel the wolf trying to nudge him, nor hear the wolf try to ask him voicelessly: “Do you understand? Do you understand?”
“There you are.” A deep voice broke the silence, almost making him jump.
Glen was standing in the doorway, Vincent and Gilbert at either side of him—(Vincent clinging to his coattails rather tightly).
“Did you find anything interesting?”
Jack set the journal on the floor beside him, standing and stretching, yawning the words: “Not really, no.”
Upon noticing the pink light cast on the floor through the small window, Jack asked, “Do you think we should head back?”
Glen gave a curt nod, turning around to leave, and Jack ran to catch up.
*****
A young boy with golden hair and green eyes stood in the midst of a ruin; a caved in part of the city—or what once was the city.
After putting his hand to his chin in thought, and a good dose of looking around, he pulled a watch out of his pocket. When he flipped it open it began to play the soft tinkling notes of a somewhat sad song.
“I still don’t know what exactly happened here,” Oz muttered softly to himself, “but…I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
He didn’t see the wolf poking its head out from around a wall behind him, didn’t see its ears perk up, nor, now that someone had finally heard and headed its warning, hear its satisfied howl;
“Thank you, Dear Rabbit.”
8 notes · View notes
thegoodgayshit · 3 years
Link
Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.
Chapter Eleven: I Get Threatened by the King of Athens
There was a tense and uncomfortable silence. Luz had a sinking feeling in her gut, like pieces of a puzzle were coming together in a game she hadn’t agreed to play.
“What do you mean Amity isn’t with him?” She said quietly, not moving her eyes away from Theseus. If she had thought he was cute before, now the sight of him made her blood run cold. She should have listened to Gus. “Achilles captured her in Boulder. Where is she?”
Theseus pursed his lips. “Achilles isn’t always the most tactful. He has his own agenda too. He was supposed to bring Amity to my boss in Colorado, but he went off the rails, literally, and took her to his new place in Kansas City. Fled from our boss because of some disagreement between them.” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “As if we could even refuse to begin with.”
Luz was stunned. “I have… so many follow up questions.”
“Kansas City? Like… our next stop?” Gus asked with a frown. “That’s one coincidence.”
Theseus hummed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ll soon figure out that few things in our world are a coincidence. The gods are pawning you even as we speak. You met the flower crown lady in Cincinnati, who gave you a job to prove to the love lady she made the right choice in favoring you.” He gestures to Luz with a roll of his eye. “Then, your daddy gives you a hand in the train station to make sure you’re on the exact right path they need you to be on, so you can’t mess this one up. So sure, coincidence.”
“My dad?” Luz asks, not sure what Theseus meant.
“The map,” Gus hissed in realization. “As the god of travelers, some kids of Hermes must have special abilities with map reading.”
“Then there was the way she could haggle the price down without even trying,” Willow added with wide eyes. “He’s also the god of merchants.”
“See, what did I tell you?” Theseus said with a smile. “You kids are quick.”
Luz didn’t like feeling like an idiot. But that’s what was happening right now. All the time she and her friends thought they were doing something good, all that time Luz felt guilty thinking this was her fault and the gods had been manipulating their quest from the beginning.
Her anger must have shown on her face because Theseus shot her a sympathetic smile.
“Don’t feel too bad, Luz. It happens to literally every great demigod.” His face hardened. “In Athens, my quest in the Labyrinth was half a test of skill and half a test of wit. My father promised me glory and honor by coming home a hero, and when I got back on my boat I didn’t even have to touch my ship the whole way home. It was like the sea guided my boat home on its own, and I knew my father had blessed me. Do you know what happened after that?”
There was silence between the three of them. Luz remembered the story, but with the look on Theseus’ face, she knew she couldn’t say it.
“Poseidon didn’t raise the white sails when I arrived,” Theseus said bitterly. “My beloved stepfather had asked me to when I arrived so he knew I was home safe. When I arrived, I was the new King of Athens, because he had thrown himself off the roof thinking I was dead. Poseidon killed him.”
Theseus sat back in his chair, a look of complete misery on his face. “I blamed myself too, you know. Then, when I died, the gods couldn’t even spare me then. The judges wanted to send me to Tartarus. But Minos argued that because I slew the Minotaur, I deserved Elysium. In the end, I was punished to roam the Fields of Asphodel forever.”
Willow and Gus were looking at one another, but Luz was so enamored by the story she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She had always been a sucker for a dramatic tale.
“I forgot everything. Who I was, what I stood for. And then my boss came to me and pulled me from my torment. I was alive again, and a new man. I would never serve the gods as long as I served him.”
“The man in the mountain,” Luz whispered, looking at Theseus unable to disguise her fear. “Who is he?”
“The reason I’m here is so you never find out,” Theseus said slowly, and the three of them flinched. Theseus chuckled under his breath.
“Sorry, not like that. I’ve come as his messenger to offer you a deal.”
“A deal?” Willow said with a frown. Luz shared the sentiment. Why would the man who had been tormenting Luz’s dreams for weeks want to spare them?
“Look, you kids have a good heart.” Theseus continued, eyeing each of them carefully. “My boss knows that. I’ve now seen it myself. We’re all pawns in the game, we always have been. You didn’t ask for this quest, so my boss is giving you a chance you won’t get if you continue forward to Colorado. Go to Kansas City, take Amity from Achilles, and go straight home. Leave this whole thing alone and spare yourselves the pain and heartache.”
“But all of Olympus will fall without Hestia,” Gus protested, “we have to save her!”
“But why?” Theseus asked, and Gus fell silent. “Why can’t an old age of pain and suffering just end? My boss will allow a new era to rise, and demigods can live peacefully with the other mortals. I can see my father again. You can all go home without needing to fear a monster will hunt you down. Luz, you can have a normal life with your mom where she doesn’t have to worry.”
Luz flinched, and Theseus smiled slightly. She didn’t know how he knew about her Mami, but she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue.
“Stop that!” Gus demanded to Theseus, and he looked over at him innocently. Willow reached over and put a hand over Luz’s.
“I am just being truthful,” Theseus said, and Gus’s eyes hardened.
“No, you’re not. You’re deceiving her. You went to Tartarus because of how you treated Ariadne. You abandoned her on an island and she would have died there if Dionysus didn’t save her and make her his wife.”
Theseus froze, and for a moment his expression changed, going from sympathetic to cold.
Willow nodded along to Gus, pointing an accusing finger at Theseus.
“You were a war criminal too. You kidnapped the Amazons and the Spartans and caused a war for the Athenians between them. You were exiled because you treated others so terribly. The gods didn’t force you to be awful.”
Theseus’ eyes flashed furiously. “I am offering you demigods a way out! A chance to escape the prophecy.”
“Why would we want to do that?” Luz butts in, narrowing her eyes. “The prophecy told us we would bring Olympus peace.”
“The prophecy says nothing of the sort,” Theseus growled. “Don’t trust the words that can be so easily twisted. It also says you will dawn a new age. That is exactly what my boss is trying to do. And unlike you, I’ve heard it in its entirety. One of you is doomed to die, and that is why Amity would not tell the camp what she heard. She assumed it was her, and that is why she told her companions to run. But I know better. It will be one of you three.”
There was silence again, and Luz felt her mouth open and close fearfully. She didn’t know what she was going to say. Theseus got up from his chair, adjusting his notebook and pen to tuck it under his arms. Luz realized he was leaving.
“You don’t need to decide now,” Theseus said carefully, though he was clearly still angry. “My boss just asked me to pitch the offer to you. You’re still heroes, and now that you know where Amity is I imagine you’re going to go find her. Last we heard, Achilles was planning on hiding in the musician's manor in Sunset Hill on the west end. Look for the gold lyre outside.”
He pushed his way into the aisle, turning his head one more time.
“If you chose to continue, my boss will not hold back. We will do everything we can to finish our mission, and that includes stopping you if you get in our way. And I can promise you this, you are no match for my boss.”
Luz’s chest flared with anger as the entire conversation hit her at once. She hated Theseus. He was a huge bully, who was so mad at the world he blamed everybody else for it but himself. Luz knew better, and if his boss was anything like Theseus, then she hated him even more than she already did. Standing up, she balled her fists at him and stared him right in the eye.
“You’re no hero. We’re going to finish this quest and free Hestia, and we’re going to do it right. You can tell your boss we’re on our way.”
Theseus paused, but he didn’t say a single thing. He just looked at Luz sadly, like he was trying to decide what color coffin would go best with her skin tone. He walked to the front of the bus and whispered something to the driver. The bus screeched to a stop, and Luz had to grip Willow’s hand to keep herself steady. Theseus got off, and the bus started moving again. Luz collapsed into the seat, and Willow leaned into her shoulder comfortingly.
“That was really brave, Luz,” she said, and Luz shook her head.“No, it wasn’t. It was stupid. My Mami was right, I have a terrible habit of making enemies.”
“Theseus is an enemy,” Gus assured her, “but now we at least have some information.”
“Yeah, like how Amity is in Kansas City,” Willow said. “We can go get her tomorrow morning.”
“That, and that the man in the mountain is more scared of Luz than we originally thought.”
“What?” Luz sat up and looked at Gus like he had three heads. Gus shrugged his shoulders. “Theseus was trying really hard to cover it up, but their plan is dangerous. He is trying to keep us away from the plan, not protect us from it.”
“That’s a bold assumption, Gus,” Willow said with a smile. “But it’s also optimistic! I like it.”
“What about the little detail that one of us is going to die?” Luz said with a frown. “I don’t like those odds at all.”
“We won’t know what’s happening with the prophecy until we find Amity,” Willow reassured her. “For all we know, he could have been lying to us to try and scare us into submission. We can’t think like that. Trying to change a prophecy never works.”
Luz groaned, covering her head with her hands. “This is so confusing. I’m sorry I dragged you guys into this mess.”
“We want to be here, Luz,” Gus said with a smile. “Besides, I always knew Theseus was not the greatest, but today my theory was actually proven!”
“Yeah, what a jerk.” Willow agreed. “Sorry we didn’t believe you, Gus.”
Gus rolled his eyes and nudged Luz playfully. “Don’t. I saw the way you guys looked at him. We can’t trust every attractive demigod we run into anymore.”
Willow blushed, but Luz laughed, nudging Gus back affectively. “He has a point.” Luz reached down to her lap and picked up the Tupperware Theseus had given her. “Do we think this is safe to eat? Because I’m starving and I don’t want to go find Amity on an empty stomach.”
Gus snatched it out of her hands. “Don't eat that! For all we know it could be poisoned. It's enemy food.”
Willow had completely ignored both Luz and Gus and was busy eating half of the sandwich. “I had some when he gave it to us. It’s safe.”
“Great!” Luz snatched the container out of Gus’s hands and popped it open, her mouth watering at the sight. It was a fresh PB&J on white bread and an assortment of crackers grapes and cheese. She dug in, finishing the contents in what must have been a record time.
Gus grumbled something about how we were risky and totally stupid, but he ate along with them. By the time they had finished, the three of them were sitting together comfortably, and Luz’s eyes were getting heavy. Willow nudged her with her shoulder.
“If you and Gus want to sleep, you can go ahead. I’ll take first watch.”
“Are you sure?” Luz definitely wanted to sleep, but she didn’t want to leave Willow watching by herself.
Willow chuckled, putting her backpack between her and Luz, so she could rest her head on it. Gus settled in next to Luz, resting his head on his own pack against Luz’s side.
“I’m sure. Try and catch some sleep. We don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”
On that happy note, Luz wasn’t sure how she would be able to get to bed with her mind whirling. But as soon as she rested the pack against her head, she found that she was so exhausted from the day’s events she fell right asleep.
The dreams came again, and Luz found herself standing in the mountain, hiding behind a huge metal shipping container. She poked her head out and saw the man in the mountain, his back turned to her, staring straight forward at a huge metal cage. Inside was a girl, no older than fifteen, dressed in white rags and sitting with her hands bunched up to her knees. Luz thought she might have been very pretty if she wasn’t looking so haggled, her copper-haired pulled back messily and her eyes sunken and tired. Despite her half hazard appearance, she was staring at the mountain man with disdain, like he wasn’t worth her time at all. Luz liked her instantly.
“Why won’t you just give in?” The man said angrily, slamming the base of his bronze staff into the ground. Luz had never seen him with the staff before, he usually had a sword. He was cloaked in dark robes, and Luz could see parts of a dark mask sticking out from the front of his head. “You’ve been here for weeks now. Your fire should have died long ago.”
“The fires of Olympus are not so easily extinguished,” the girl said softly, frowning at him. “As long as there is hope, I will remain here.”
“I will crush your hope beneath my feet!” the man roared, and Luz flinched at the volume. The girl in the cage did not seem so easily frightened, and instead, her eyes flickered beyond the man and towards Luz. The two of them made eye contact, and Luz was shocked to her core by the warmth that flooded through her. Her eyes were the color of dying embers, and Luz couldn’t help but smile.
“Hope remains,” the girl said, but not to the man. She was looking directly at Luz. “And so I remain.”
Luz didn’t realize the dream had shifted until she was somewhere else. She was standing in a huge room reminiscent of an old ballroom. The tiles were white and smooth, and the walls had a golden wallpaper draping them. Everything inside was expensive, but the furniture was pushed against the wall like it wasn’t needed. Outside the polished white windows, Luz saw a massive garden and a long driveway, and then towards the street, she saw a stone plaque that read “1200 West, 55th Street”.
As Luz turned her attention back to the center of the room, she did a double-take. There was Amity, chained to the middle post with her eyes closed, looking worse for wear. She was still in the clothes she had worn when she left camp two weeks before, and she was grubby, with cuts and bruises all over her body. Luz lunged forward to help her, but the sound of laughing from another room startled her so badly she diverted and slide behind one of the expensive sofas hiding from view.
Two men emerged, talking amicably with each other.
“I don’t know how you managed to get away, you’re bound by eternal oath.” The first said, and Luz peaked over to get a closer look. He was a tall and skinny man dressed in simple white cotton pants and a blue shirt, with long black curly hair that sat messily on his head.
“I haven’t technically broken any oath yet,” the second said, grinning deviously. He was much larger than the first man, with muscles on muscles. He wore a sleeveless white shirt that was so tight Luz could see the outline of his stomach, jeans, and white sneakers. His dark hair was close-cropped to his head, and he had two swords hanging loosely on his belt. “Belos can wait a little longer. Besides, this is in his best interest. The prophecy says so.”
He reached down towards Amity, cupping her chin with his index finger and thumb, and Luz felt a snarl pulling itself angrily from her lips. She tried to rush forward but her limbs felt like lead, and she was frozen in place.
“She doesn’t look good. Keep her alive until the other kids get here. I put a bottle of nectar in the fridge.”
“Belos better come through with his promise.” The first said lowly, crossing his arms. “Taking out three demigods on my own is not how I planned to enjoy my new life.”
“You will be compensated for your work,” the second said with a shrug. “If there is one thing he is, it’s practical. He appreciates your time and effort on our joined mission.”
The first sniffed disdainfully, “very well.” He looked over at Amity, and his eyebrows pinched in concern. “Are we sure she’s breathing? You know I don’t do well with pets…”
Luz was interrupted by something shaking her violently, and she woke up with a yelp, her head smacking into something. She groaned in pain, rubbing her forehead.
“Ow!” Both she and Gus said at the same time.
Luz looked around and realized she was back on the bus, and that it was now almost dawn. The hard thing she’d collided with was Gus’ own head, and the boy was now standing up and leaning against the seat for support.
“That’s the last time I wake you up,” Gus moaned, shaking his head like it would get rid of the pain.
“We’re here,” Willow said, doing her best to stifle the laugh. “We just arrived at the Kansas City bus terminal. We have to get off and look for Amity.”
“No need,” Luz said certainly, standing up and throwing her backpack over her shoulder. “I know exactly where she is.”
15 notes · View notes
Text
Premonitions 
Fandom: Pandora Hearts
Character Focus: Glen (Oswald) Baskerville, Jack Vessalius, Vincent Nightray, Gilbert Nightray, Kevin Regnard, Oz Vessalius 
Summary: Jack, Glen, Vincent, and Gilbert thought they were going on a relaxing vacation in the mountains, but a creature from The Abyss has a bit of an adventure in store...or is it a warning? 
(Written for the Phmonth19 Tragedy Trio prompts "Wolf," "Ruins," and "Winter.")
(For those who’d like some Glen, Jack, Vince, and Gil cuteness. I definitely enjoyed writing some! It's something I've wanted to write about for a while)
Notes: This is actually a fic for Phmonth19! It was for the Tragedy Trio prompts "Wolf," "Ruins," and "Winter." 
I liked a lot of the prompts during Phmonth19, and wanted to find a way to use multiple simultaneously. I liked the idea, but ended up struggling with where I wanted to go with it, and having too much to do during Phmonth19, so it didn't get written then. But I liked it enough to continue it and return to it eventually.
I hope you enjoy it even so!! Please know that when you comment you are both making my entire week, and motivating me to keep writing more fics like this one!!
Premonitions
A young boy weaved in and out of the crumbling artifices, hopping down from a half-broken wall to a mossy ledge on a lower level of the ruins. It was probably a room in the past. It wasn’t now.
They’d warned him not to go in here. But if forbidding something was incentive for most kids, it was practically a command to him.
They told him it was dangerous, unsafe, that anything could fall and crush him, or crumble beneath him, not to mention that there was a sort of energy here: it infected people, made them into madmen and monsters, and if said monstrosities didn’t attack and kill you…you might just become one yourself.
As if he needed a better invitation.
Most regretfully, he hadn’t found any horrifying monstrosities yet. Just a bunch of cracked stones and sewer rats looking for corpses to clean off. Occasionally something shimmered in the dirt, but more often than not it was just a rusted piece of metal, or cracked bit of glass.
He kicked up a board to see a dagger laying there. He frowned, considering it, before picking it up, examining the details on the hilt. Might make a nice souvenir if he could manage to clean the rust off.
He couldn’t help but wonder what happened here. People said this place was dropped into the Abyss, that it had become a hole to swallow all that dared to enter. But what exactly did that mean? He’d heard of the Abyss, and the Chains that lived within, but never of anything other than sinners being dropped into it. What kind of atrocities had everyone there committed to warrant the whole city being dropped into the Abyss?
He kicked another rock, before glancing up, his red eyes widening.
A wolf sat in front of him.
He hadn’t even heard its footsteps. It just sat there on the wall above him, swishing its tail. He took a few steps back.
It was gold and ethereal, its tail long and wispy, like a gust of wind frozen into flesh. Said tail flicked back and forth. White eyes left trails in the air—like slits in a mask, only letting the golden light inside it break through the eyes—yet they held no mal intent—(he’d learned to be able to see that, to feel it, almost). It seemed intelligent.
Was this one of the monstrosities they warned him about?
His hand tightened around the dagger.
The wolf stood, but after it took a few steps forward it looked over its shoulder as if to ask “Are you coming?”
The boy took a step forward himself, to run after its disappearing tail, compelled by some inclination; he knew he ought to follow it, that it wanted to show him something.
“Kevin! Kevin!” A familiar voice called from far away. “I’ll not have you sullying the Regnard name with another one of your insolent games! If you get eaten by some Chain you’ll only have yourself to blame!”
When Kevin looked back the wolf was gone.
*****
Jack breathed deeply through his nose, as he entered the cabin, then breathed out just as noisily.
“Smell that mountain air! I just love the snow, don’t you? I always feel like something’ amazing is going to happen!”
Glen rolled his eyes, dropping their bags—(which Jack had made him carry inside, citing the fact that he was carrying Vincent).
“Say, Jack…” the boy sitting on his shoulders spoke, “do you think we’ll see the northern lights up here?”
“I don’t know! …What do you think, Glen?”
“Probably not.”
“Aww!” Vincent pouted, bumping his fist on Jack’s head.
“Ow!” Jack reacted in an over exaggerated way.
“Eh! I’m sorry!”
When Jack had found out about the cabin the Baskervilles owned in the mountains he knew it would be the perfect place to spend a few days relaxing and playing in the snow—and what better way to remember how to have fun than to bring Gilbert and Vincent along?
When Jack brought up this idea, Glen had blatantly refused. Ever the responsible leader, Glen didn’t take vacations from his duties. But lately he had started having conversations with the rose bushes, and everyone agreed he could stand a few days off.
Glen was just starting to unpack their stuff when—
“You guys want to go sledding?” This was Jack’s voice, of course.
It was a resounding “yes,” from the kids, complete with jumping up and down and shouting.
“We just arrived,” Glen grunted. “Wasn’t the point of this trip to relax?”
“And what better way to relax then hurling yourself down a snowy mountain on a thin piece of wood?”
Glen blinked. “Reading.”
Jack grabbed his arm, pulling him out into the snow. “Don’t be such a fuddy duddy. Come on!”
Glen glared at his friend as he promptly dragged him off into the snow.
Soon they were flying up to the tallest hill they could find on Raven, then, after they successfully reached the top, they proceeded to push each other down it on sleds, with much giggling and whooping (from everyone except Glen). When they reached the bottom, they would fly back up on Glen’s chains—(who seemed to enjoy the show).
At one point, a little while into the festivities, Vincent was waiting for his turn when something in the corner of his eye flickered. He turned to see in the woods, behind a tree, a creature.
Vincent froze when he met the wolf’s gaze, a shiver running up his spine, more than just the cold, his face twisting in fear.
“What’s wrong, Vince?” Jack put a hand on his shoulder, glancing from the terrified boy to the empty air he was fixating on.
The wolf ran in a figure eight around two of the trees, brushing up against them, its form leaving tracks in the air. Then it paused again to stare at the boy with white, smoky eyes.
It didn’t look completely there.
Vincent pointed shakily towards it.
Jack put a hand on his shoulder. “…Where?”
He pointed more emphatically.
“I’m sorry Vince, I…I don’t see anything.”
“What’s going on?” Glen asked, hopping off Raven and landing beside them with Gilbert in a flurry of black wings.
Vincent just kept pointing, his finger a vibrating signal.
Glen’s eyes widened.
“What is it?” Jack demanded.
“It’s a wolf. Or at least…” he paused, noticing the strange color, and misty nature of the creature.
“I don’t see it,” Gilbert said softly.
“That’s okay,” Jack crouched down by him, “Neither can I.” He stood back up to his full height, reasoning with Glen, “If you two can see it, and we can’t…”
Glen nodded at him, before taking a few steps forward, and finishing the thought:
“I think, more likely than not, its something from the Abyss.” He squinted at it, watching it playfully thread the trees. “I think it wants us to follow it.”
Vincent tensed at the idea.
Glen looked over his shoulder, his eyes flicking to the boy. “I can always go after it by myself if you’d like to return to the cabin.”
“Oh it’ll be fine! Don’t worry!” Jack took the hands of both boys. “With Master Glen with us, nothing’s going to hurt us!”
Glen rolled his eyes, but Jack’s words seemed to comfort them.
Un-summoning Raven, Glen walked in front, the other three following a short distance behind.
When the spectral wolf saw they were going to heed its call, it moved further into the forest, always dancing around the trees as it waited for them to catch up.
They followed it quite some ways—(especially since they were tired from all the sledding)—until the trees stopped abruptly in a cliff edge. Jack had to put his arms out in front of the boys to keep them from walking any further.
As they raised their eyes, they saw across the gorge a plateau.
“I-Is it still there?” Gilbert asked softly, looking all around them.
Vincent and Oswald looked around but the wolf wasn’t anywhere close to them.
“There!” Vince pointed after a moment. The wolf was across the gorge, weaving in and out of a stone ruin on the plateau.
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Gilbert asked nervously. “Maybe we’ve followed it far enough…”
Glen had already summoned Jabberwocky, and was currently climbing on its back.
“You coming?” He asked the group flatly, holding out his hand.
The three glanced at each other, before Jack helped the kids onto its back, and hopped on himself. Jack hugged the boys tightly, as Gilbert held just as tightly to Glen’s coat.
The wind was cold and biting as they flew through the air, but the ride was very brief, and they landed moments later in a puff of dust in the center of the ruins.
“What is this place?” Jack asked the air, and no one answered.
They ventured cautiously into the ruins, at first sticking together, but soon curiosity overtook them, and they each wandered in separate directions, captivated by different rooms. The place wasn’t too vast though, and thus didn’t allow them to stray too far from each other.
Glen found the throne room, or where it most likely once was; a huge empty room in the center of the ruins, empty, save for the collapsing chair, backed by the skeleton of a large window, holding broken pieces of colored glass. He slowly marched up to it, running his fingers along the ghost of the chair, looking out the window at the now frozen water far below, wondering what sort of king ruled here.
When he turned around, the wolf was sitting in the center of the room, swishing its tail at him. Glen was sure it wanted him to understand something, but he couldn’t quite discern what.
He noticed at the side of the room there was a large structure. At first he mistook it for a collapsed bit of wall, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was a piano. He set his fingers on a few of the notes, but they only gave a croak.
It’d been too long.
He lifted his head and raised his voice to ask the wolf about the place, and learn if it could respond, but it had moved on.
Gilbert found the old kitchen, the food there long since turned to compost for rats and roots. Then he found the servants’ quarters not too far from there, full of rotting bedframes and hungry mice, wondering what sort of servants were here, and if their king was as noble as Glen-sama.
He didn’t see the wolf pass beneath the doorframe behind him.
Vincent found a room that likely belonged to a child. It was faded, but there was paint on the walls: designs of flowers and vines. He almost stepped on a clay sculpting of a bird that may have served as a toy, once.
On a broken dresser he found a box which, once opened, turned out to play music, the notes discordant after years of rust and neglect.
He thought he saw something else, and lifted up the half-bug-eaten board. He immediately dropped it, wishing he hadn’t, the something that was there making him cover his mouth in shock and horror.
He felt a nudge at his back, and almost screamed, whirling around to see the wolf behind him. Fear glued his lips, welled his eyes with tears.
The wolf cocked its head to the side, as if confused by his fear. It licked his hand, and Vincent drew back, though it felt like a brush of wind.
“W-W-What do you want?!” He stammered.
But he could not understand the wolf’s words.
Jack descended a staircase a bit further out of the way and found—more in tact than much of the buildings—a dungeon.
It was a large stone room, lined with cells, sectioned off by rusting bars. He pressed one open with a creak and found an empty room, and a skeleton. He continued on until he found one without a skeleton, whose bars were bent, as if the person within had managed to escape through them. He entered through to find there was a journal in this one. He picked it up, brushed and blew off the dust and frost, the pages just as creaky and unwilling to budge as the doors.
He sat on the floor where he found it and began to read. Many of the pages were too damaged by time to read, the ink fading, the pages crinkling and crumbling, but he could make out at least bits of the story. It seemed the writer was in love with a girl, but, due to her being the ruler of this kingdom’s queen, they could never be together. As the pages continued, the writer seemed to grow more and more obsessed with her; his phrases containing less and less sense and sanity. Jack couldn’t tell exactly how he ended up in the dungeon, nor how he apparently broke out—if the bends weren’t made by weather or time—but in his not-quite-sane state, he must have done something very stupid. Maybe a lot of things.
When the final pages became too illegible, he looked up and saw in the waning sunlight, the tally marks on the wall. As he began to dust and defrost them, he realized the whole wall was covered in them. He ran his hand over the grooves, thinking of how long this person must have been left alone inside himself, and what that might do to a person.
He couldn’t see the wolf pacing around his feet, reading over his shoulder, couldn’t feel the wolf trying to nudge him, nor hear the wolf try to ask him voicelessly: “Do you understand? Do you understand?”
“There you are.” A deep voice broke the silence, almost making him jump.
Glen was standing in the doorway, Vincent and Gilbert at either side of him—(Vincent clinging to his coattails rather tightly).
“Did you find anything interesting?”
Jack set the journal on the floor beside him, standing and stretching, yawning the words: “Not really, no.”
Upon noticing the pink light cast on the floor through the small window, Jack asked, “Do you think we should head back?”
Glen gave a curt nod, turning around to leave, and Jack ran to catch up.
*****
A young boy with golden hair and green eyes stood in the midst of a ruin; a caved in part of the city—or what once was the city.
After putting his hand to his chin in thought, and a good dose of looking around, he pulled a watch out of his pocket. When he flipped it open it began to play the soft tinkling notes of a somewhat sad song.
“I still don’t know what exactly happened here,” Oz muttered softly to himself, “but…I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
He didn’t see the wolf poking its head out from around a wall behind him, didn’t see its ears perk up, nor, now that someone had finally heard and headed its warning, hear its satisfied howl;
“Thank you, Dear Rabbit.”
6 notes · View notes
Text
Putting it Out There (A Biracial Child)
I’ve always wanted to address this, I just never knew where or how to. But, as I write, I see the influences come into play more and more (More so when I am writing my B.B fanfic and the Tourist), so I thought, now is a good time as any and this is the only account and platform I feel safe (maybe because I don’t have 200+ friends or followers here who know me outside of social media). I also feel as if this prospective of life isn’t given much attention or heard. 
I, as some may know cause I had commented as such, am a biracial child. My father is a Caribbean Hispanic male and my mother of German and Italian descent. 
This does not mean I have the best of both worlds. In fact, most of the times I feel alienated. 
Born in the early 90′s, the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin was every where. My mother would tell me that song was about me, now I was 5-6ish. I thought she referred to me liking cats, and trying to go out to perform a crap version of ‘Singing in the Rain’ along with the love for magic. 
No, it wasn’t so innocent. It was straight up because of my skin tone. I looked like the girl the song was describing. I had no idea. Nor did I realize a silent war was raging in my family. 
Growing up was...hard to say the least. It is even harder when you have racism on both sides pointing fingers at each other. On my mother’s side, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to visit unless it was a holiday to which there was pressure from the family. Out of spite, they would invite my much older siblings father over to cause a fight (The man did not celebrate christmas). Meanwhile my other aunt would tell me over and over again I was Italian. In the end, during these events I would end up alone and not know why. 
Now lets turn to the other side of the family, my father’s. My first words had been Spanish. Yet, I lived with English speaking relatives... guess who stopped speaking Spanish for a long while. When visiting my family on his side, none of of my relatives would address me, only if they had to because my father was not around. These people knew how to speak English, very well even though they had moved from their native island. They just refused to speak to me. This sucked cause where it was 3 people on my mother’s side, it was 16 aunt’s and uncles on my fathers not counting the dozens of cousins I had. So, as the other family events, I ended up alone not knowing why. 
The answer was rather simple but much to complicated for my child self. Both sides of my family was and still is completely racist. My white mother was near exiled for being with a man many would consider black (he considers himself Spanish and oddly doesn’t get the fascination on why his skin matters or makes me worry about him when he is stopped by cops...). I was the ‘mixed’ baby, a simple of her family’s shame. 
My father’s side could not care what color my mother was, only that she was not Spanish. For those who don’t know, Spanish can be an array of color, its cool. But, she was no Spanish, did not speak Spanish and therefore my father was exiled by everyone but his own mother for many years (which is why we ended up in family events, my mama wanted to see her youngest grandchild by her baby boy). This meant being put at the back table, being openly mocked, and never told of big family events like babies or weddings. 
This only lead to more fighting at home and in the end even my own siblings, alienated me. It was a pretty lonely experience. 
This carried on to school and friendships. Elementary was not fun, but I felt the effects more in Jr. and High school. In elementary I was grouped with the other Spanish kids, because starting in late summer I had my Spanish tan on and therefore, I was not white to other white kids. But I did not speak Spanish. At one point I spoke gibberish to just to be able to hang with the Spanish kids at recess. It worked and I still don’t know how. 
In Jr. ahhhh... at one point my family was making good money, which originally, it once took the income of five adults to keep us afloat, now it just took 2. My father and my grandpa (who I will talk about later). We moved to a ‘nicer’ neighborhood. In the early 2000′s that mean, a white neighborhood. Boy, did I stick out. 
Now you might think “But you grew up in NYC, said you were from Brooklyn” well, here is a fun fact. Nothing is more segregated than NYC schools. The north did not do busing like the south did, so white schools stayed mostly white while schools in low income areas stayed mostly black or other minority races. I was a very tan child going into a white neighbor hood to a white school. Lets top it off that I played video games and Yu-Gi-Oh, HA! 
I received hell. I had legit parents sneer at me, and girls asking me if I had sex because I was Spanish. A 12 year old, got hit on by 15 year olds because they thought my race made me easy. I was 12, all I wanted was to collect cards and play Pokemon on my stupid advance, I had no time for boys unless they were anime. But... someone (more than likely their parents) had set these ideas in their head on how Spanish people, more so girls, acted. 
Then I realized, I really liked all things Gothic. A Spanish Goth.... it pains me to think about it. Everything from poser, to faker, and ‘trying to act white’ was laid on me. I could not wait for Jr. High to end. And when it did, a whole 180 happen. 
I was no longer Spanish. I did not know why, just everyone referred to me as ‘the ONLY white girl’ in the school and that is not a joke. My school, was dubbed the worse in all of Brooklyn and shut down, which I believe it was dubbed that because of the 1% white population... I was the 1 after my second year when the other white kid (who was a boy people asked was my boyfriend) graduated. Now, in high school it wasn’t the kids who gave me hell. It was the teachers. 
In fact, high school led me to meet others who were also feeling alienated. One of which I am very close to, a black man who is Jewish (adopted by a white couple) and gay. He did not where he belonged either. In the mid-00′s to be a black gay man living near the ghetto was dangerous. I can’t count how many times he had to hide who he was so he wouldn’t get shot. Nor could I count how many times my other friend coped with being a biracial black man who loved anime and being goth so much he was bullied for it when we weren’t together (who I ended up dating throughout high school). 
Suddenly being labelled white get me an acceptance I was not expecting. I ended up being popular against my best efforts and people who I did not know knew me. At 15 I did not get what had changed, because no one had told me yet. No, I figured it out at 16, when I was placed in senior English because of my grades. My English teacher told me, I was white, in the worse why I could ever imagine. 
My English teacher, a beautiful black woman who celebrated her African roots, gave an assignment one day. I was one out of five in a class of thirty who did it, because I did it in her class the day before. I played sports, so did half the other kids, I did not have time after school. This did not sit well with her, she was mad, which was an understatement. So, she turned to the class and said
“This is why our people end up in Jail or having babies to early. Because like black people don’t take education seriously.” Then called be out by name and continued “is why she will end up being successful, because white people know the importance of an education.” 
First off, she was very racist towards EVERYONE, second I at 16, who was always called Spanish in school was now labelled white in front of everyone by an adult. I was both confused and terrified as my boyfriend who knew my family cared JACK SHIT about education looked ready to kill her. Luckily, he just walked out of class and waited for me as I was too studded to move. 
I later asked him if he thought I was white, he admitted he did until he saw my father and called me biracial. For the first time in 16 years, I had been called biracial. Went home, did not tell anyone what happened, asked my mother if I was biracial and she said yes. To shorten this up, this was what life felt like, 
At home, I had no race. Neither side welcomed me. 
In school, I was told I was Spanish and had to fake my way in the Spanish group.
Jr High, I am now trying to distance myself from everyone as being Spanish makes me a target. 
High School, I thought being Spanish would be a good thing. Now everyone is telling me I am white. 
I had not idea who or what I was. 
All I ever wanted was to be me. I wanted to understand why my family never got close to me, and I wanted friends who were friends because I was me. 
It was like I was being ripped to pieces. I could be what others wanted or be no one at all. I had no idea what to do. If people at the new school found out I was Spanish, would I become a target again? I was allowed to freely play games, watch anime, and be my gothic self if I were white. But that also meant I could not hang out with my friends who lived in the Ghetto, shouldn’t like rap, R&B, and reggaetón or use the slang I grew up always using. 
To be a Spanish person trying to be white
or 
A white person trying to be black/another minority of color. 
I had watched as the former got my friend (boyfriend at the time) kicked out of classrooms as he was compared to those involved in columbine shooting from teachers since he was different. Also the hell he received from other boys for cosplaying and playing anime based card games. At one point it was so rough he thought about dropping out and I begged him to stay along with his mother. I was so afraid of going through that again.
So I kept my mouth shut. 
I took on the military standard of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. My father never came to the school because he worked so much so no one knew. Everyday, I just took what my English teacher said to be without any force back. When Obama was voted in, she told me I had no right to celebrate, that my people had JFK and that Obama was for all the minorities to celebrate. I fell into a dark hole of hating myself. My home life was awful and now school I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t comfortable with. I started ditching classes, got into more fights than I would care to admit, did some really shady stuff and began hurting myself. 
The only joy I got was when I busted my ass grades wise and got out of school six months early. I did not have to go to school anymore and I could lock myself away to be no one but myself. It was lonely but I found company in books and my art. Through art I was allowed to be me and no one could take that away. 
When I returned for Graduation I June, did I get the final laugh on that English bitch. My mother and father showed up, she asked if my father was a cab driver helping my mother as she had gone blind. I told her, rather happily, that was my father. She went from joy to sheer disgusts faster than you can blink. For years she kept talking about who ‘mix babies’ never got any where as their fathers were never around. Yet, despite me hardly showing up, I gradated top of my class, never had a baby nor was I ‘loose’ (In fact I feared sex as a teenager), and my mixed couple parents as she lovingly called it, were together. 
She walked away from me and never said a word since. 
But now school was over, college was starting. I still hadn’t figured out who I was. Was I white/Italian or Spanish. In college I learnt no one was going to tell me who I was anymore, nor did they care. At home, it was still a battle of the races. Finally, one of my cousins spoke up and declared I wasn’t Spanish as I knew nothing of the language. At home, my aunt and uncle decided I was Spanish and called me a ‘Spick’ as a joke. I did not take it as one and therefore I was called ‘uptight’. 
My siblings also informed me, if I wanted free college to put down Spanish on everything unless it was the census. Then I should be white. Sometimes I still run into people who think I am one over the other. I had people come up to be speaking Spanish to be highly offended when I tell them I don’t speak the Language well. (I tried learning but it is hard when motivation is not there). 
In recent years, I had someone at work tell me how they met a Spanish person, shockingly where my father works, and then described in detail my father and then tell me they thought he was illegal since he looked the type. All because they thought I was white... proud to say that person got fired for being racist.I did also inform them that was my father to their response was “you’re one of them”. 
It never ends. 
No, the reason why I haven’t been driven insane is because of my late grandpa. My grandpa was a man I adopted to be my grandfather. My biological grandfathers on both sides died long before I was born and the man I adopted was close to the family and acted like a father to my parents. He was a good man and the reason I had a childhood. 
He once went through the same, Italian/Jewish, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem but when he was growing up that equaled Catholic/Jewish, to which he too was either pinned in the middle or rejected by both sides, this is the 1930′s-1940s. He gave me the best piece of advance ever. 
To be myself. 
That if I were myself, then it did not matter. The moment I stopped being who I am, that passing or faking would never tell me who my real friends were. That if he, could love me for who I was, a weird girl who liked boy things and drawing strange looking characters, then anyone else could. Being a stranger to myself would never bring happiness. So, after years of not listening to that, I finally decided to listen to my Grandpa. 
I know who I am, I know the history of my families. They might not like that I am not what they want me to be, but they don’t have to live with me. I have to live with who I am. My friends are my friends because they know who I am, not who they think I should be. 
So for all my biracial brothers, sisters and them’s, be yourself. Don’t try to force yourself into a mold, it isn’t worth it. None of it is worth it. 
Look yourself in the mirror and say your name. Say it loud and let everyone know they can not define who you are, and so what if they say you don’t belong, guess what? You do if you want. You belong because YOU say so, because that blood runs in your veins as well as theirs. So you get to make that choice! 
Make that choice of being you! Define yourself to YOUR standards. 
Don’t let anyone take that away. I know I won’t.
Tumblr media
So here I see myself! A strange fox who changes coats with the seasons, that loves anime and video games, who plays Yu-Gi-Oh and listens to opera and Metal while can twerk and get low to Daddy Yankee! Who eats sushi and makes a mean chicken cutlet but can also make the best empanda with beans and rice with the rest of them!
And no one can take that from me.
11 notes · View notes
milstrim · 3 years
Text
A Gripping Night
Day 22: Poison
"They're really staying with you?" Penny asked, and she could practically feel Mr. Stark's feigned annoyance from over the phone. She could hear him walking around in some kind of busy room filled with lots of people, and it surprised her even more that he'd called.
"Yeah, kid. That was kind of the whole point of going through these trials and being out of the country all the time."
It had been a year since Mr. Stark had whisked her away to Germany to fight the Captain America, who had been pardoned by the UN barely two days ago. Now being a lot closer to Mr. Stark since Homecoming--filled with lab days, training, small missions, and plenty of movies--she'd known that her mentor had been working on bringing the Rogue Avengers back to New York. Of course the whole world had known. The trial had been very public, but it was different watching it on TV to seeing her mentor after every trial.
He'd always been a special kind of stressed anytime she'd seen him once he'd been back from a trial or some kind of government argument that she didn't understand. He'd worked himself to the bone the last four months, so much so that he'd missed a lot of their lab days. But now the Avengers were back together, and she hoped that things would go back to normal.
But the chances were slim, since the Avengers would be his main priority now. A part of her felt protective--these people had hurt her mentor after all! They'd left him and refused to listen and had beaten the crap out of him. She'd seen what had happened in Siberia on a video that she 100% hadn't been supposed to see. And now these people were coming back like it was no big deal. And Mr. Stark was welcoming them like they hadn't hurt him!
Another part of her felt jealous, and a little worried. For herself, which in turn made her feel guilt for being selfish, but...what if Mr. Stark didn't want to talk to her anymore? He'd started paying attention to Spider-Woman because the Avengers were breaking up, he'd needed help, and then he'd only paid attention to her after Homecoming. What if he didn't need her anymore? What if he didn't want her around?
She'd be lying if she said she hadn't stayed up all night before worrying about it. Hence why she was especially tired now, and it took her a moment to realize Mr. Stark was still talking.
"--whadda ya say, kid?" he finished, and she blinked.
"Huh?"
He snorted, "How late are you staying up? You better not be patrolling past your curfew, young lady."
She scrunched up her nose at the playful 'young lady,' and she was sure he could see her face through the force of her sheer willpower, "I'm not! I go to bed at 1:30, Mr. Stark."
He clucked his tongue, "Well, you certainly haven't been sleeping enough to pay attention. Did you hear anything I said?"
"I stopped paying attention after...something about being out of the country."
"This is betrayal, Underoos. And I knew you had a thick skull, but this is low, even for you."
"Okay, well, I have homework, so is there a point to this conversation that I have one hundred percent been paying attention to?"
She could feel his eyes roll, "Uhuh. But as I was saying, you've been cordially invited to one bonified Stark Gala next Friday evening."
"A gala?"
"Ah, she can hear! Yes, a gala Spider-Kid. It's a little welcome back soiree for Cap and his gang of merry pals, 'figured it'd be better to meet on neutral ground with a few rich people as buffers. It's good to raise charities too. But also because everyone going is boring as hell, I thought you'd like to tag along so I'd have someone okay to talk to."
She hesitated, "Uh, I don't know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I have a project coming up, and I don't even having anything to wear and will they know that I'm Spider-Woman and--"
"I'll help you with your project, I'll give you a dress or a suit when you come to my apartment, and they don't know you're Spider-Woman. You can just be my intern."
"...Is the gala at your apartment?"
He snorted, "No, it's at an actual place where parties are held that I bought out for the night. It's very nice, even has an outdoor patio."
"And you're sure they won't know?" she asked, unable to stop the fear from bleeding into her voice, and Mr. Stark's own voice took on a heavier tone, matching hers.
"I can't assure you that, kid. They're idiots, but they know what they're doing, but I can tell you they wouldn't out you, and that even if they did, I'd take care of it. Okay?"
"Okay, Mr. Stark. I trust you."
He was silent for a fleeting moment, "Great. See you soon, kid."
 ---
Saturday came a little too quickly for Penny's liking, which was a weird sentence. She loved Saturdays! It was when she got to spend the entire day patrolling and swinging around town, and she did do that, though she had to stop around four and swing to Mr. Stark's Manhattan apartment instead of patrolling into the night. Spider-Woman got there quickly, a little nervous as she stuck to the side of the building, knocking gently on the window. From inside, Mr. Stark looked up at her knock, smiling when he caught sight of her, and she waved.
The window slid open for her, allowing for her to slip inside. She took off her mask once the window had closed behind her, and Mr. Stark immediately ran a hand through her sweaty hair. She'd tied it up for her suit, but the braids and knots had come loose, allowing for his hand to untangle the rest of her her hair and fall down into her short bob.
Mr. Stark scrunched up his nose, "You're sweaty."
"And you're annoying," she snarked back.
"Yeah, yeah. Go take a shower, Underoos. You can't show up to the gala smelling like the last dumpster you fell in."
She stuck a tongue out at him, but he just pointed her in the direction of the guest room she stayed in if she ever slept over. She took a quick shower, always glad to take in the smell of the soaps left in the bathroom for her (they smelled like vanilla and heaven).  When she stepped out there were two outfits waiting for her. One was a bright red dress, slightly off the shoulder with a short slit down the side, falling down to her ankles. The other was a slightly darker red suit with thin black stripes and flare legs, a dark blue bowtie that was a little too obvious but still made her smile.
She chose the suit.
After she'd pulled it on, she treaded out of the room. And then she was herded into another by some makeup artist that had come by to do Ms. Potts' makeup earlier. Her hair too. Another what felt like two years passed before Mr. Stark said they were already to go. Fancy suits. Makeup. Hair. Jewelry. And then they were finally out. Mr. Stark was exhausting with his parties. Worse than a freshman going to Homecoming.
Finally they were in the car, Happy driving them to the building that Mr. Stark had bought out for the fancy party. When they arrived at the building, she was a bit nervous to see some gathering press, and she gave Mr. Stark an uneasy look.
"You can go around the back if you'd like, Pen. But you're in the system as my personal intern, and I mean, I know that kid at school's still giving you trouble," Mr. Stark explained.
"No one's bothering me, Mr. Stark," she argued.
"Sure," he placated, "You coming in here or do you want Happy to take you around?"
"I'll just, go with you."
"Alright, kiddo."
The cameras had been bright, but Mr. Stark had made sure she got inside relatively quickly. He stayed out for another ten minutes or so taking pictures and answering press questions. He'd showed her to the elevator, told her to get off at the top floor, and said he'd catch up in a few minutes. Her heart had clenched as he'd left.
Blinking off a headache from the crowd, Penny took in the room in front of her when the elevator opened. It was elegant, with golden curtains and soft yellow lights blinking overhead. There was a band playing soft jazz in the background, and there were only a couple of people milling around so far. Unsure of what to do, she headed to the bar and ordered a Shirley Temple, waiting for whenever Mr. Stark would join her.
While she waited, she people watched.
Penny didn't recognize any of the people chatting idly around the room, until her eyes landed on a tall man with dark blond hair and a groomed but messy looking beard. It took her a moment to place him, what with the beard and all, but when he turned and made eye contact with her, she recognized him. Captain America.
Immediately she looked away, sipping on her drink and ignoring the man who had beat her mentor senseless barely a year ago, who was now only thirty feet away from her like it was nothing. Penny was relieved when Mr. Stark appeared a few minutes later, approaching her where she was on her third Shirley Temple.
"How many of those have you had?" he asked when he saw her.
"Three," she responded cheekily, taking another sip through her straw. Mr. Stark shook his head.
"I'm pretty sure the responsible thing would be to tell you not to have anymore, but I don't know how else to get you through the night."
"Coffee?"
"That is the biggest no of all no's, kid. Not after last time."
"I only broke the arm of your suit."
"Uhuh," Mr. Stark tutted, but his face was playful, "Only have two mores of those."
"Rude," she muttered, taking another sip. Mr. Stark opened his mouth to say something else when another voice interrupted, strong yet soft.
"Hi, Tony."
Mr. Stark turned and she looked up to see Steve Rogers. The man's eyes flitted to her a little uncertainly, but he didn't look at her for very long, instead focusing on her mentor. The billionaire tensed, but nothing else portrayed his discomfort as he plastered on the same smile that she'd seen him flash to the press.
"Rogers. Glad you could make it to your own 'Welcome Back Party,' though I am sorry that I couldn't make it a red, white and blue theme. Pepper was insistent for the gold instead, and I can't deny I favor it."
Mr. Rogers smiled a little bit, "I think you should've stuck with Natasha's colors."
"Just black is a bit of a downer. Anyway," he gestured to her, "This is my intern, Penny Parker. Who has had way too much sugar in the three minutes I left her alone."
Penny waved timidly, "Um, nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers."
Mr. Rogers smiled, holding out a hand that she took, being careful to keep her grip gentle. She must have not been gentle enough, because his eyes narrowed, "Nice to meet you too. And you can call me Steve."
Mr. Stark scoffed, "Good luck. It's been a year and she still calls me Mr. Stark."
"That's your name, Mr. Stark," she chirped, and both Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers laughed, and the night continued on.
Penny flip-flopped between following Mr. Stark around like a lost puppy and standing in the corner drinking something (sometimes a water, other times a sugary drink if she saw that Mr. Stark had gone to the bathroom). At the moment, she was following him around. She mostly stuck around when he wasn't talking to one of the Rogues, and he'd been talking to a scientist that was doing some revolutionary stuff with chemical growth out in California when Mr. Rogers and Mr. Wilson had decided to join them. Hurray.
Cue some awkward conversation and Penny wishing she could leave, but she could tell there was a panic looked about him, so she forced herself to stay around. She wasn't going to abandon her mentor. And maybe she'd get some more sugar if she was nice.
About forever into the conversation, a waiter passed by with a plate of red rimmed drinks. She raised her eyebrows at Mr. Stark, and with a roll of his eyes, he gestured for her to grab a drink while she grabbed her own. Red rimmed drinks were non-alcoholic, basically just sugar and soda (which was also just sugar), so she began chugging down her cup instantly.
The back of her neck prickled and she put the now almost empty glass down, lipping her lips at the strangely sweet taste. Which, it was supposed to be sweet, but it was different. Maybe she was just tired, she did feel woozy all of the sudden. And as though summoned by the thought, her vision began to swim, barely able to make out the faces of Mr. Rogers and Mr. Wilson looking at her in concern, their full drinks still in their hands.
"Kid?" Mr. Rogers asked.
Her throat dry and her head spinning, Penny grabbed onto Mr. Stark's hand, tugging gently. Her mentor turned to look at her, his eyes widening as he looked at her.
"Mr. Stark," she mumbled, her legs beginning to shake, "I don't--I don't feel so good."
That was the last thing she said before she tumbled to the ground. Mr. Stark caught her at the last second, mumbling out words that she struggled to understand. His mouth was moving too fast to even try to read his lips, and all she could her around her were panicked yells and someone screaming at the sight of her now completely limp, half on the ground, half in Mr. Stark's arms.
"--kay, honey. It's gonna be okay," she finally managed to make out, the sound all drumming back instantly like in those movies that was going through the sound inside a deaf person's head and then switching back to sound. Mr. Stark's voice was soothing, a hand carding through her hair as Mr. Wilson kneeled in front of her.
"It looks like she's been poisoned," Mr. Wilson concluded, "We need to take her to the hospital, really quickly. Whatever this is, it's fast."
"Got it," Mr. Stark confirmed, his voice wispy, "That waiter--"
"I've got them!" Ms. Romanoff called, and Penny assumed the woman had dashed away, though she couldn't tell for sure. Everything was so fuzzy, and darkness was clouding her vision. She was sure that that was a bad thing, but falling asleep didn't sound so bad.
Her eyes were slipping closed as she was scooped up off the ground, her head lolling before it was pushed back in place against Mr. Stark's chest. No. Not Mr. Stark. She blinked her hazy eyes open to look up and find Captain America. Where was Mr. Stark?
"I'm right here, kid. Right here," she heard Mr. Stark say, as though she'd summoned him. She tilted to her left to see the man rushing to keep up with her and Mr. Rogers. He smiled at her encouragingly, "Yeah. I know. We're getting you help. The suit's on the way. just stay with me, honey. Please."
And then the world faded away.
 ---
The world blinked awake.
It was bright. Well, not really. There were lights in the room that made her flinch with her sensitive eyes, but after she adjusted, she realized that the room was actually dim. It must still be pretty late.
Speaking of the room, it was the Medbay in the compound. She'd been here often enough to recognize it. At this point the covers on the bed she was in were Spider-Woman themed (somehow), and there was lots of equipment specially made for her. As well as very comfy chairs for Mr. Stark and May to sit in, both of who were seated there right now.
May was asleep, her glasses skewed and her hair frizzy, but Mr. Stark was awake, watching her intently as she sat up. He deflated as she did, a sigh escaping his lips before he leaned over, wrapping her in a hug.
"Hi, Mr. Stark," she mumbled into his shirt, "What happened."
"What do you remember?" he asked softly.
"Um, we were at the gala...? And I drank something that tasted funny, and--that's it."
"Well, that's about as long as you stayed awake for. What you missed was me flying you to compound so you could have emergency care by my team of doctors. Side affect; I think the others know by now that you were the coolest kid in Germany."
Her face fell, "Oh."
"It's alright, kid. I'm sorry this went so poorly," Mr. Stark apologized.
"It's okay. I trust you."
And she really did.
8 notes · View notes
spooky-draws-stuff · 3 years
Text
Late Halloween post, sorry
The Egos horror movie
Written by me
Jackie and chase stood outside marvin's  door, waiting for him to answer. It was the month of October, and they needed to help marvin prepare for Halloween. Every year, marvin would dress up in a fancy costume and hand out candy to the kids in his neighborhood. He would decorate his entire house and cover it in lights. This year was going to be different because he decided he wanted to open his doors and allow guests to come over and vist for a party.
Jackie sighed and turned to chase. "It's hard to feel happy during this season. There's so much pressure on people to clean their houses and waste money on candy. I feel too old to celebrate Halloween."
Chase nodded and took a sip of whiskey. "It's not so bad though. You could come over to my place and we could watch a movie together."
"But we already did that last year! I'm just tired of being lonely. Ever since I moved away from the city and got a new computer repair job no one has been showing up to work on time. It's so boring getting only a few customers a day but it pays well." Jackie explained.
Chase finished his whiskey and handed the bottle to Jbm. "You shouldn't let others expectations bring you down. I know living in the city was a rough time for you and I get it, I understand. Sometimes it's hard to move forward. You can't just give up like this. You mean so much to me. You're my friend and I really care about you."
Jackie smiled, then knocked on marvin's door. "Hey marvin! What's taking you so long? Get your ass over here and open the god damn door!" Jackie's smile disappeared and he kicked the door aggressively. Marvin! Hey marvin! I SAID OPEN THE DOOR!" Jackie's eyes widened. The door slowly creeked open. Fresh blood was soaked into the living room floor as Marvin's lifeless body was posed in a disgusting shape. His mask was broken and chopped into bits. Large wounds covered his face as maggots crawled into his exposed ribcage. He had been dead for weeks.
Jackie fell to his knees sobbing and screaming. Chase threw up all over the lawn. "DAMN IT MARVIN! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you call me? I should have never had that argument with you! I never got to apologize!" "I should've known better, I could've done something to make sure this didn't happen again! It's not my fault I swear!" Jackie stood up and turned around aggressively. "It's time chase. He has returned, and he's going to come for our sorry asses if we don't do something about it."
Chase looked confused. "Who's coming to get us? What do you mean?" he shuddered, his voice a childish tone. "How the hell should I know chase? He comes back every Halloween, and he won't stop until everyone of us is dead or even worse...A puppet..." "Think about it chase...He's always wanted the channel....and he's always hated Jack...but with us out of the picture, it gives him the perfect opportunity to strike and to take over. Once he has Jack in his grasp, there's no telling what he'll do to him...And then the fans, our fans chase...The ones who love us and support us will have no one to turn to...We have to stop him before Halloween night. We have to save Jack before it's too late..." Jackie exclaimed.
Chase didn't say anything at all. "I know a place where we can go, but we need to get a car first."
Schneep was driving home from work when he suddenly got an alarming phone call. Since he was driving on the road, he had decided not to answer it. The phone rang again, but he still refused to answer. 
Once Schneep was at his house, he opened the door to his garage and parked the car. Once he was sitting comfortably on his couch, he finally answered the phone call. "Hello? Who is this?" Schneep questioned. A bunch of static sounds layered over Chase and Jbm's worried voices played.
"We're in the car now"
"to your house!"
"Hurry!"
"It's an emergency!"
"Not much time"
"Only a few days"
"Marvin's dead!"
Schneep hung up and sat there, staring blankly at his Tv. Panicked thoughts raced through his mind. "Marvin's dead? Since when? Emergency? Where? Why are they driving to my house? What's going on?" "What did they do this time?" "Are they in danger?" "Should I call the police?"
Finally after a long wait Schneep stood up and walked into his bedroom. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a carving knife. In his closet, he pulled out a medicine kit with bandages in it, and then started packing a bag filled with surgical tools. He walked outside to the shed in his back door and carried wooden planks and a tool box into his house. He locked the back door with a padlock.
Inside the tool box were multiple chains and locks, a wrench, a wrist watch, a sledge hammer, a regular hammer, and nails. Picking up the board, Henrick took some measurements and started to nail it over the window. He did this to every window in the house. Once chase and Jbm arrived, he shoved them inside and locked the door.
"What where you doing out there, standing alone together like that? That's how you get killed," Schneep scolded.
"Chase, hand me those canned goods. Jackie, I need you to go into the pantry closet and search for the flashlight. There should be a notebook in there and a flare gun. The flare gun is for emergencies only, do not mess with it. After that, cut the power supply and turn off all the lights. Chase, I need you to start restocking the fridge and the pantry. Jackie, use the notebook to keep track of how much food we have. Everyone stay calm, do not under any circumstances use your cellphone at anytime. He can interfere with the signals and find you easily that way."
Chase and Jbm nodded and got to work right away. "But what about Jack? Is he safe too?" Chase turned to face schneep.
"Forget about him for now. We're going to survive this." Schneep pulled out a beer from the fridge and smashed it onto the floor.
"Hey! I paid good money for that thing!" Chase whined in protest. Schneep sighed heavily and face palmed, shaking his head. "If we're going to prepare for his return, then we're going to have to cover some ground rules."
"Who are you, my parent?" Chase talked back. Jbm continued to scribble into the note pad, humming a peaceful tune. "Chase, you are the most childish and immature person I have ever met in my entire life. You think I could trust you with the simple chore of handling a gun?" Schneep growled.
"Yes." Chase soon regretted what he had said and stood there awkwardly. Schneep left and pulled a white board into the living room. He started writing with a marker.
"Rule number one, never go outside"
"Rule number two, no more Tv"
Jbm walked over to the Tv and started smashing it with schneep's sledgehammer. Schneep nodded a silent thank you and continued his lecture.
"We already know he can travel through television. Same thing with radio signals, he can listen to our conversations. No more internet, he can find our address  that way too.
"Rule number three, do not let anyone into our house without my permission. He can disguise himself to look like us."
"Rule number four, he can't find you if you stay quiet. If you make a noise, he'll kill you."
"Rule number five, this is a hard one. No more alcohol. You cannot fight back if you are drunk. Common sense."
Schneep rolled the board to another room. Jbm layed down an air mattress.
Chase fell asleep on the couch. Schneep walked to his coffee maker.
Jack was busy planning for his next Halloween video. He had already emailed some ideas to Robin, and they were talking about where they could film it, which cameras they would use, what clothes he would need to buy, and what time during the day it could be released. He was thinking about doing another ego skit, but was also wondering if he should just buy a pumpkin instead. It was quiet that evening and the sun had already started to go down. Jack walked to his kitchen to get a glass of water and a snack. He sat down at his table eating a brownie. He paused after hearing footsteps somewhere. He shivered, the air was freezing cold. Jack grabbed a kitchen knife and held it close. "Hello? Anyone there?" he whispered. A tall shadow breathed heavily behind him. Jack squeaked as the glitch's arm choked him.
Jameson and Robbie were chilling at their apartment. Since Robbie didn't have a job and couldn't work due to his medical conditions, Jameson took care of him when schneep wasn't there to visit. Jameson worked at a local library for kids, and he didn't make that much money. The Tv was on, and the two of them sat at the couch watching their favorite show. Jameson looked at Robbie. "Hey, you want any popcorn?" he questioned in a friendly manner. Robbie nodded slowly, his faded purple hair brushing past his face. Jameson hopped off the couch and opened the pantry. Robbie waited patiently for his food. Jameson fell over, and his wrists started to burn as fire rose from the stove. He layed motionless on the ground, unconscious. Two strong arms reached for his legs and carefully dragged his body through the open window. Robbie looked up at the ceiling. "Where...Did..You go...Jameson?" he spoke slowly. Robbie felt a warm hand brush past his shoulder. When he looked behind him, no one was there. Robbie looked outside to see a moving figure in front of the house. Robbie's white eyes glowed angrily. "Give...Him...Back..." he muttered while crashing his body through the window. Anti smiled holding Jameson. Red strings pulsed in his hands. He didn't speak, but it seemed he was saying "Come over here an get him."
Robbie leapt high into the air, attempting to pounce on Anti. He became confused when fistfuls of grass and dirt filled his hands. Robbie's eyes stopped glowing. "What?" a blurr dashed by him, and then there was nothing left. Robbie, Anti, and Jameson disappeared.
Jack opened his eyes. Colored spots danced in his vision. He saw Jameson hanging from the wall, with two knives pinning down his arms. Jameson was still breathing, but had 2 syringes poking outside from his neck. Anti was busy sewing, carefully cutting some red thread. Anti's eyes glowed green in the dim light of the unknown location. He turned slowly, and Jack instantly panicked as soon as he saw him. Anti held a spool of thread and a needle. His messy brown hair covered half his face, and blood dripped from his black boots, the silver buckles on them glinting in the moonlight that poured through a tiny window. Robbie stood up, his eyes bleeding. Anti handed Robbie a scarf from the table. Anti pointed at Jack, and Robbie obeyed. Robbie approached Jack, cautiously tying the scarf around his mouth. Jack's entire body started shaking. Anti stomped on Jack's leg, the sound of Jack's bones cracking broke the silence in the air.
"Anything...Else...You...Need?" Robbie's arms went limp at his sides. "W-What did you d-do to him?" Jack stuttered, his whimpers muffled by the cloth. Anti snarled, and dropped down to his knees. He stared at Jack, his eyes stopped the light they emitted in the darkness. Anti shoved his clawed hand over Jack's mouth. "Shhhh..." he hissed, and looked behind himself quickly.
Anti picked up the needle and thread and Robbie looked at the chains holding Jack's arms. Anti then took his time to make careful incisions along Jack's left wrist. Anti sewed the thread into Jack's skin, making even stitches and avoiding his veins. Tears flooded Jack's eyes as he was forced to feel tiny pricks and thread under his skin as warm blood glazed his hand. Anti moved on to the next wrist, repeating the process. When it was over, he smiled and gave Jack a pat on the head. "Good puppet." he whispered hoarsely.
Anti's footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. He brushed his hand along the knife that was in Jameson's arm, and moved his head, admiring his work. Whistling to himself, he used his fingers to follow the blood trail on the wall. He meticulously pulled out the two syringes in Jameson's neck and shook Jay's head gently, making sure he didn't break his neck. "Wake up Jay. I've brought you a friend." Anti laughed. Jay said nothing, his eyes were shut tight. "Oh...That's disappointing...Maybe next time..." Anti returned to his work table and picked up a cloth that was soaked with blood. "No, not this one."  he talked to himself quietly. He put the cloth down and picked up a carving knife. "I'm going to give you a nice smile, Jack."
A loud scream belted from the cabin. Birds raced away from the danger.
Schneep was passed out on the floor, while chase and Jbm were drunk and playing uno. They had a secret stash of liquor bottles that went undiscovered by schneep. "Now listen here you little shit, my card, the red card says that I'm going to reverse what you just did, because you decided you were going to fuck up my entire strategy." Chase slurred. Jbm shook his head as his body swayed. "No, it says in the rules you're supposed to draw 20 or admit that you're too stupid to finish this game!" Jbm face planted onto the ground. "Oh god oh fuck I'm bleeding my nose oww"
Schneep jolted awake. "What is going on with you two? Haven't you watched any movies at all? IF YOU DRINK, YOU DIE! Any character who drinks gets killed, and you just ruined everything for yourself. So don't blame me if you two get dragged away or stabbed to death. Schneep yawned and then kicked the bottles away. He grabbed chase's hat and smacked his face with it. "Now stop goofing off, tomorrow is Halloween." he sighed and sat down on the couch, loading a shot gun. "Go clean up Jbm, and chase, go get some water. I'm sending myself to the front lines, I've been training all year for this day."
Schneep's house was very tall and well built. The windows were boarded, the power lines had been cut. The front door was locked multiple times, and the back door had been bolted shut. The car was filled with emergency supplies, a spare tire, and a full tank of gas. All possible weapons were removed from the garage, leaving empty space and lots of room to move. Schneep had drawn a map on the whiteboard and went over the plans for the layout in the house. Chase and Jbm had gathered anything they could use to fight with:Gardening tools,(Chainsaw, weed eater, Lawn clippers, and a rake) Knives, and the items in schneep's tool box(Hammer, sledgehammer, and a wrench) Schneep held his gun close to him and looked at the time on the alarm clock. "You have your pistol ready, chase?" Schneep took a sip of tea. Chase nodded. Jbm held up the rake. "It reminds me of my bow staff at home. I can definitely fight with this." He held it close to himself eagerly.
Schneep walked up to the window. He waved his hand at chase and Jbm.
"You see something?" Chase whispered.
Schneep peered through the hole he had carved into the wood that allowed him to have a tiny view outside of his house.
There stood a man, large and frighteningly tall. His brown hair covered his emerald eyes. A red wound oozed blood against his pale, icy skin. Dressed in black, his silver buckles were the only colors present on his boots.
Gripped tightly in his right hand, he held a large kitchen knife. In his left hand, he held up Jack's body. Schneep frantically glanced back at Chase and Jbm, struggling to breathe. His hands shook rapidly as he began to pick up shards of glass and cut up his own arms. Chase and Jbm said nothing, they were helpless to stop it. They were paralyzed against their will. They had seen Anti too. Before schneep fell onto the floor, he had written only a few words. "The Glitch returns." Schneep lied motionless before being able to move again. He tore off a piece of his shirt and covered up the hole. "New rule...Don't look at him" Schneep picked up his med kit and injected himself with Antibiotics before cleaning his cuts and bandaging himself.
Chase and Jbm hid behind the couch as the back door rattled viciously. A few rustling noises and the crackling noise of a lighter was enough to tell them to run. Too fearful, they did not move. Bright orange flames licked at the door. Footstep sounds moved to a new location. The door burned, the nauseating scent of ash and smoke filled the air. "Why didn't you tell us the door was made of wood?" Chase whispered harshly at schneep. "I didn't think that through!" Schneep shouted a little too loudly. A fist knocked a hole into the door. Everyone in the room held up their weapons. A boot pounded through the bottom of the door and succeeded, wood splinters and shavings littering the ground. Anti gripped both sides of the door before tearing it off completely. Fire bounced onto his clothes, and he calmly ignored it. With a clap of his hands the flames stopped. Without muttering a word, he tossed Jack's body onto the floor. Stitches were sewn into his cheeks, giving him the appearance of a forced smile. His mouth bled, and his jaw was damaged. His eyes were open, and he was still breathing.
With wild eyes Jack reached out to grab Chase's leg, crawling towards him. Chase lifted up Jack and they scurried into another room to hide. Anti did not follow them, it seemed he was not interested in his old prey. Schneep fired his shot gun multiple times at Anti, but Anti just teleported out of the way. The only time a bullet hit Anti was in his arm. Anti pulled the bullet out and dropped it onto the floor. The wound closed up as he regenerated.
Schneep picked up the sledge hammer and swung at Anti's chest. Anti's ribs make a popping noise, but they only mended back together. Anti grabbed schneep's shirt collar and choked him, lifting him high off the ground before slamming him into the floor. "You puppets are no fun to play with anymore." Anti took his time holding up his knife in an over strike motion as schneep scrambled on the floor. Schneep 's hand landed on the handle of a wrench and he tossed it at Anti's head. Anti dodged and he pinned Schneep down with his foot. Anti stabbed schneep in his stomach, blood spewing out of schneep's body. Anti took his foot off and picked up a hammer. He paused, and stared at it lost in his own thoughts.
Chase and Jack were in the garage, attempting to start the car with no luck. Anti had already cut the wires in the car battery. Jack was alive with only mouth injuries and a broken leg. He was missing a few teeth, and the strings sewn into his wrists were not deep into his skin.
Jbm was behind Anti being very still and silent holding up the garden rake. With speedy reflexs he wacked Anti on the head with the metal part. Fresh markings oozed crimson across his face. Anti touched his face and examined the blood on his fingers. He shrugged and stared at Jbm completely expressionless. Jbm took off running outside from the back door that had burned down. Anti picked up a chainsaw and started the mower, following Jbm at a snail's pace. Jbm stopped at the tool shed and desperately fumbled with the locks on the door. Anti was right behind him and turned off the chainsaw. "I don't need the channel in order to be feared. I don't need Jack in order to have control. I don't need the fans in order to have power. I am my own person now." He started the chainsaw again. "Now tell me, Jackie. Haven't you always wondered what your insides looked like?"
Chase hopped out of the car. "Jack? Can you speak?"
Jack nodded. "It...Hurts...Somebody...Please....Help me...The glitch...Anti...Has lost it....We're all going to die now...." He coughed.
Schneep was flat on his back on the sofa. Ropes tied his limbs together in complicated knots. He had multiple knives poked into his back. He wept softly into the night.
Jbm fell to his knees, begging for another option. Anti smiled and held the blade closer to his throat, the engine roaring. "Make a promise, and I won't decapitate you." he compromised.
Jbm nodded. Anti turned off the chainsaw. "Allow me to appear once a year for this little game. I hunt you all down on my favorite holiday. All you have to do is survive. Do you understand?"
Jbm nodded again, his entire body shaking.
Chase hugged Jack. "I'm sorry....I'm so fucking sorry...." Jack's eyes glowed green. "That's okay..." his voice distorted as he stood up and started healing, his body radiating a green color. He hovered above the air, his hair floating in different directions. "You don't have to be." Jack leaned back, his jaw unhinging as a sickening cackle unleashed itself from his body. Red strings shot up from the ground and wrapped around chase, encasing him in thread. Eventually the rest of his body was covered in thread.
"No...I never did." Jbm smirked. "What's so funny? What kind of last words are those? Isn't this the part where I enjoy killing you?" Anti tilted his head, curious why his prey was so talkative.
Jbm pointed at the sky. "It's sunrise. Time for you to hurry back home."
"No! NO! I CAN'T GO BACK!" Anti howled before going into shadow form. Smoke emitted from him as he raced to his cabin, where Robbie and Jameson were .Sunlight only hurt him the day after Halloween night.
Jbm looked in horror at the discovery of schneep. Schneep wailed in agony. Chase carried Jack, who had lost his memories of Anti but his body had fully recovered. "At least we're alive." Chase commented absent mindly.
"We sure are" Jbm gulped.
Jack cautiously pulled out the knives from schneep's back. "Not even that deep...He just wanted to torture him. Let's get him to a hospital. Jack examined Schneep's injuries before cutting the ropes that restrained him.
"Hey um chase....How did you get out of that rope trap anyway?" Jack asked.
"When the sun rose Anti lost his hold." Chase replied. "Who?" Jack looked confused.
"The glitch."
11 notes · View notes