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justfangirlstuffs · 2 years ago

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House Call

You have feelings for your lunar animatronic work partner, however, sadly there’s very little chance of either of you getting any serious alone time. Until they decide to take matters into their own hands.

Eclipse x Y/N

Rated E for Enabling (because that’s what I’m doing)

It was a typical Saturday night and you had clocked out for the weekend since you had the following day off. Sun and Moon, the daycare animatronic that you were in charge of handling, had begged you to stay over for the weekend. It had been so hard for you to say ‘no’ considering how attached to both of them you had become over the months you'd been working with them. You suspected they had grown rather attached to you as well if the not-so-subtle innuendos they teasingly whispered into your ear -softly enough that no children could hear- was any indication. There was also the fact they had become shamelessly physical with you. Nothing lewd of course, but they never seemed hesitant about physical contact. Little touches and caresses that made you smile and blush like the star-struck idiot that you were. Because yes, you could not deny to yourself, you had feeling for the lunar animatronics.

You suspected they knew it too. Why else would they whisper things to you that most certainly were not work-appropriate, let alone appropriate for the daycare of all places? You suspected that they took great delight in watching you turn beet red as your face burned hot as a jalapeno pepper. Sometimes you were tempted to smack that self-satisfying grin right off their faces. but of course, you could never bring yourself to do that. You could only imagine how Corporate would react if they caught wind that your animatronic work partner was hitting on you on the clock, or hitting on you at all for that matter.

“I'll be back bright and early Monday morning,” you promised, waving goodbye to Sun though you knew Moon could see and hear you as well by proxy.

You blew them a playful kiss goodbye. Sun made a show of catching it in his hand and cradling it lovingly to his chest. This made you laugh like their antics most often did. You waited until the daycare doors closed before heading off to the entrance.

Earlier that same day, they had talked about visiting your place someday. Of course, you readily told them they would be more than welcome at your home. Though the sad truth of it was that neither of them was allowed to leave the premises of the Mega Pizza Plex. It was something that was hardwired into their coding, part of company policy, a safety and security measure no doubt. So, unfortunately, your relationship was suspended strictly to working buddies. But, hey, you could dream, right?

When you got home, you were tired from your long shift, but you were also riding the ‘I just got off work’ high that would keep you up for about another hour. So, you poured yourself a bowl of your favorite cereal, settled onto the couch in your bathrobe, and began flipping through the channels to find something that would entertain you for a while. You were just getting cozy when there came a knock at the door.

Who in the heck would be knocking on your door at this hour? Clearly, someone looking to get murdered that's who. Figuratively speaking of course. You weren't a murderer. You were cautious, however. Setting aside your bowl of cereal and tying your bathrobe tightly around yourself, you grabbed your metal bat and went to the door, not ready to open it just yet.

“If you're selling something, I'm not interested,” you called loudly.

“Oh, Starlight, you know better than that,” a voice crooned from the other side of the door. You nearly dropped the bat. That voice sounded so familiar, yet alien at the same time. “You’re supposed to say ‘who's there?’”

No way, there was absolutely no freaking way. Keeping the bat clutched tight in one hand, you unlocked the bolt of the door but kept the chain lock fastened just as a precaution. Opening the door the few scant inches it would allow, you peered out. You were expecting either Sun or Moon but the figure that stood on your doorstep was neither of those.

The body was tall and sinewy, the outer casing dark and dusky, the clothes colored in deep maroons and dusty purples. Darkened orange sunrays crowned the familiar lunar-designed face, but the eyes that beheld you were neither white nor red nor black, but a bright and vivid amber. They were familiar and yet not, but they regarded you like a long-held and treasured friend. With a hint of something else… something intense.

Your breath caught in your chest, your blood pounded in your ears as your heart raced a mile a minute, your brain scrambling to try and make sense of what you were seeing. One of the being's hands -because it had FOUR of them- gripped the edge of the door, pulling the chain taught. Another reached through the opening to caress your cheek, the thumb drawing a teasing trail over your jawline.

“Surprised to see us?” the voice asked carrying the playfulness of Sun yet carrying Moon’s darker tones.

“Who,” you choked, “are you?”

“Why, darling, you wound us. Don't you recognize us?”

You continued to stare dumbfounded up at the animatronic. A deep hum reverberated from its chest area, which you noticed was… not as hard on the eyes as it probably was to touch. “We suppose we do look rather different. It's us Sun and Moon, but in this form, you may call us ‘Eclipse’.”

It was then that you realized that having Eclipse, a seven feet tall animatronic standing on your doorstep, would no doubt be cause for all kinds of attention. Even though it was practically the dead of night you did not want to risk any of your neighbors asking questions. Quickly you unfastened the door chain, throwing the door open wide. “Get inside,” you hissed, checking for any onlookers. You saw none.

“We were wondering when you were going to invite us in,” they remarked teasingly before strolling past you.

You tried your best not to ogle but found it insanely difficult. The more you watch them the more you recognized bits and pieces of the two animatronics you had become so close to. Eclipse's movements carried hints of Sun's bouncing energy, and the roving gaze, as they looked over your apartment, was very reminiscent of Moon’s attentiveness.

After bolting your door with the fervor of someone trying to hide a crime, you whirled to face your new house guest. “Okay, I need some context for what is happening right now.”

“It's very simple, darling,” Eclipse said folding, their lower arms across a set of robotic abs. You couldn't fathom exactly why an animatronic would need a set of abs, but honestly, you weren't complaining. The upper arms gesticulated as they spoke. “We couldn't bear the thought of being away from you so long, but we knew that neither one of us could step foot outside the plex. So, we tried a little experiment, where we both are active at the same time, and after a few tries, this was the result.”

They gestured to themselves and you took that as permission to give them a thorough once-over. Consensus: they were hotter than they had any right to be.

“The security protocols did not recognize us in this form, so we were able to leave the premises of the plex,” they further explained. “Then using our access to the employee database we were able to find out where you live, and here we are.”

You suppose that maybe, just maybe, you should feel a little unsettled by the fact that your work partner had followed you home uninvited. However, your brain was so preoccupied and trying to take this all in, that it ended up laser-focusing on one detail in particular.

“So, you’re both Sun and Moon?”

“That is correct, we are both aware and present. Don't you feel so lucky, Starlight?” Their arms through open wide, as if to welcome you in a hug. “You get to have us all to yourself.”

Reaching up, you tugged on the color of your bathrobe, thinking that maybe you should check on the thermostat because suddenly it was getting very, very hot in here. You leaned against the door, your bat having been long forgotten.

“But, like… this has to be against company guidelines right?” you asked.

Eclipse took several steps towards you and their lower hands settled on either side of you, while the upper hands gripped you just below the neck. You were pinned between them and the door, your back pressed against the wood. You shivered in unexpected delight as you felt fingers caress your ear.

“I wont tell if you won't,” came Eclipse’s smoky whisper. Oh… you were beginning to recognize what that intense look in their eyes was: hunger. One of the hands slid a fiery trail down your neck to toy with the collar of your robe. “Look at you all wrapped up like a present just for us.”

Yep, you were pretty sure you were red as a tomato by this point. This was going past anything that was ever done at work, and thus anything that you were mentally ready for. You took hold of the hands, gently pulling them away from your face in order to regain some ground, both physically and mentally.

“But, what if…”

You were cut off as the two lower hands grabbed you by your hips and you yelped as your feet lost purchase of the floor. Eclipse sat down on your couch with you straddling their lap. Two hands remained gripped on your hips while the other pair studied your upper half. One settled on your cheek, the thumb brushing your lower lip, and suddenly it was all you could do to remember how to breathe properly.

“Starlight, just relax,” that smooth voice crooned.

Easier fucking said than done, you thought. Your body was hot, every touch and movement sending electrical zaps of pleasure to your brain. You were fighting hard against your lizard brain which was having fun imagining what you would do if that thumb caressing your bottom lip were to push past your parted lips and then slide in across your tongue.

“Starlight, your heartbeat is absolutely racing,” Eclipse chuckled as their hand brushed along your neck over your fluttering pulse.

“I wonder whose fault that is,” you said through gritted teeth.

You only just realized that your nails were digging into their shoulders, having grabbed onto the first thing you could for some kind of purchase. You felt fingers rubbing slow, taunting circles over your hips and you had to stifle any embarrassing noises that might have come loose. You couldn't help it, the anticipation was killing you and you had no idea what to expect from them.

“W-What are you planning to do to me?” you asked in a soft, trembling voice.

Eclipse leaned in closer, so close that their mouth brushed against your ear. “We think the more important question is: what do you WANT us to do to you?”

You wondered if it was possible for a person to spontaneously combust by sheer embarrassment.

Then there was a pause, just a hint of uncertainty. “You do want this, don’t you?”

Bless them, they were checking in, making sure they weren’t crossing any lines you didn’t want to be crossed. They were still the boys you so dearly loved. Yes, LOVED.

You nodded emphatically, not wanting to lose hold of whatever moment it was you were having. A soft sigh, followed by a chuckle.

“Then don’t be shy. It's just us after all.”

Swallowing your pride, shame, and any other inhibitions you might have had on the job, you leaned forward and whispered your desires to them.

“Why you little minx,” they chuckled, fingers combing deliciously through your hair. “To think you had these naughty thoughts dancing around in that pretty little head.”

Two hands cupped your face, pulling you closer and closer until there was no room left for Jesus or anything else.

“This is the part where you close your eyes,” they whispered.

You did so, surrendering yourself to their whims.

Your poor abandoned bowl of cereal was long forgotten and would never get eaten.

The End

(Wrote this for @feralmoonlight but honestly anyone is welcome to enjoy it. In fact @certified-handler might get a kick out of it too. If you wanna check out my other works, here is my AO3.)

#eclipse x y/n #eclipse x reader #fnaf eclipse #fnaf security breach #the daycare attendant #sun x y/n #sun x reader #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun and moon are eclipse #this is such filth #clean filth #but filth all the same #the things I do for my moots #justfangirlwritings

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years ago

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Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes.

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven.

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something.

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating.

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated.

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?”

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances.

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals.

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.”

He huffs a little.

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead.

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge.

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates.

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well.

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human.

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!"

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes.

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head.

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.”

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now.

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open.

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut.

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.”

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #werewolf!jungkook #bts werewolf au #jungkook imagine #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanheadquarters #btscreatorscorner #btswritersclub

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lovestruckay · 4 years ago

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Request: "Hi there! Loveeee your writing for Fire Force and was wondering if you could do headcanons (SFW and NSFW if that's ok!) for Akitaru and a fem s/o for celebrating birthdays or holidays?"

Pairing: Akitaru Obi x Fem!Reader

A/N: Happy birthday, Obi! I’m a little late but I made up for it by making this 2.5k words, haha. NSFW content is below the cut, it’s mixed in throughout instead of separate! I used these HC as a way to talk about some of the days I celebrate personally from the Wheel of the Year - eight holidays that celebrate the spring equinox, the summer solstice, the autumnal equinox, the winter solstice, and the four cross-quarter days between them.

Akitaru loves the holidays. He’s the kind of person who plans celebrations a month in advance, sometimes even longer depending on what the special occasion is. He’ll put out decorations, bake pastries, cook whole meals, and even throw parties where he’ll give mushy speeches.

You think he leans into celebrating even more for the sake of the rest of Company 8. Nearly all of his companions had come from troubled backgrounds or had lost their loved ones and he was always clear that the Eighth was their family too. Akitaru is the father figure of their ragtag company and he takes that role seriously. Not just in protecting them and guiding them but in doing the little things that family did - like celebrating holidays.

So, when these special occasions roll around, you better get ready because this man is not just celebrating for the fun of it but because it’s a way to bond with you and the rest of Company 8.

The Holy Sol Temple has generic, catch-all versions of all the seasonal holidays. With the Temple worshiping a Sun God, their holidays are centered around solar events like the solstices, the equinoxes, and the cross-quarter days between. December celebrations are all bundled up into the Winter Solstice, Ostara and Easter became the Spring Equinox, Samhain and Halloween became the Autumnal Cross-Quarter Day, and so on.

Even though these combined holidays are the most frequently celebrated, the pre-Cataclysm holidays still exist and are still celebrated. It is on a much smaller scale though so this makes celebrating these holidays a much more meaningful affair. If you celebrate a particular day, whether it’s because of tradition or your heritage or something else entirely, Akitaru is excited to learn and be a part of something so important to you.

Valentine’s Day is one of his favorite holidays because it’s a celebration he gets to spend with the woman he had fallen madly in love with - you. He likes that there’s a holiday dedicated to your love for each other and he tends to go overboard with making sure you know how much he cherishes you.

Akitaru is really cheesy about showing you how much he loves you. He always starts the day by waking up before you and sneaking into the kitchen so he can make you breakfast in bed. He’ll cook your pancakes in the shape of wobbly hearts and there will be a protein shake there with your orange juice. He has covered your entire bathroom with sticky notes, each note containing sweet messages he had written throughout the year about how much he loves you. You have a hand bound book on your shelf filled with pressed flowers and love notes that he had made for you one year.

He once hired a skywriter plane to write your initials in a heart in the sky. He loves you so much that it turns him into the corniest, sappiest man on the face of the planet.

He takes the Firefighter Calendar very seriously and he’s absolutely playful and confident enough to wear something sexy for you as a surprise. If you surprise him by wearing some revealing lingerie, he will spend the rest of the night absolutely worshiping you and showing you how beautiful you were.

Akitaru is such a big man but he can be so delicate that the tenderness he touches you with makes your breath catch. But sometimes he forgets his own strength, especially when you’re wrapped up like a present, and he tears the wrapping paper. You know better now than to expect whatever pretty lingerie you buy to survive the night.

He makes sure that you can’t get out of bed when he’s done with you and that works out great for him because, guess what - dinner in bed is on the way.

The Spring Equinox mornings are always spent outside basking in the nice weather and the warm sun as you plant new flowers in the cathedral garden. You spend the afternoon spring cleaning your home, sweeping behind all the furniture and packing up winter clothes. The afternoons are spent painting eggs and hiding little gifts of candy and sweets around the cathedral for the rest of the company to find.

Every year, the Autumnal Cross-Quarter Day (or Halloween as most call it outside the church) is a day-long affair. Mornings are spent carving Jack-o’-lanterns and baking cookies decorated with icing in the shapes of skulls, bats, and spiderwebs. During the afternoon, you’re putting out last minute decorations and filling bowls with king-sized candy bars for the trick-or-treating children that stop by the Fire Force cathedral.

Somehow, Akitaru is always able to convince everyone at the Eighth to dress up in costumes. He especially loves doing coordinated outfits with you, like Frakenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein or a werewolf and a vampire. One year, he was able to convince the entire company to dress up as zombies and you all spent the day making zombie noises at each other and giggling.

If you like getting a little scared for Halloween, he'll take you to a haunted house or a haunted trail where he will inevitably be clinging to you by the end of the experience. If you get chased by the workers wielding fake chainsaws at a trail, he will get so scared that he will literally scoop you up into his arms and run away.

If you’re more interested in staying home and spending time together, you’ll nestle up on the couch together with a bowl of candy and some of the pastries you had baked earlier and binge watch horror movies. He has absolutely no talent whatsoever for video games - you swear the man can’t even figure out how to hold the controller half the time - but he will happily cuddle you and cheer you on if you wanted to play some scary video games instead.

Once you two are alone, Akitaru can’t seem to get his hands off of you. He thinks you are so beautiful every single day but there is something so alluring to him about you dressed up. If you’re wearing one of those revealing costumes, his eyes are glued to you the entire day and, once he can finally get you away from everyone, he’s tearing it off to get to the sweets underneath.

He is very sensitive to the fact that winter holidays can be very personal to a person depending on their background. Most people in Tokyo celebrate the Winter Solstice but there are people who still celebrate the pre-Cataclysm holidays. Whichever holiday you want to observe, Akitaru wants to support you and celebrate with you.

You want to build an altar for Yuletide? He’s bringing home pretty rocks and little trinkets he found that he thought you might like to give as offerings.

You want to light a menorah for Hanukkah? He’s cleaned off a special spot in the kitchen window for the candelabrum.

You want to decorate a tree for Christmas? He’s driving around looking for a pine tree he can cut down for you.

You want to decorate the house for Kwanzaa? He’s singing with you as you both hang brightly colored kente and he’s memorized all seven core principles to talk to you about during the week.

You want to host a dinner for Las Posadas? He’s in the kitchen helping you make tamales and he even stuffed and hung two piñatas - one for the new recruits and the other for you both and the rest of the company.

When it comes to gifts, Akitaru is really good at picking out presents for you. He always listens when you talk and he makes sure to remember when you talk about things that you like. He’s the kind of guy who will buy small presents throughout the year and stow them away in the back of his closet until the winter holidays roll around.

He’s extremely easy to buy gifts for, he loves the traditional “dad” gifts. Get this man some brand new winter socks, a new jacket to replace the coat he got too muscular for, and some new underwear and he is happy. If you give him something a little more exciting in addition to his gifts, like taking off your robe to reveal you’re wrapped up in a bow, he will gladly unwrap you and give you a present of his own.

For New Years, he likes to host a little get together with Company 8 to celebrate. You all make a big dinner and maybe even get a little tipsy before going up to the roof to watch the fireworks. You sit in chairs you had set out earlier, Akitaru settling you into his warm lap instead, and watch in amazement as Company 1 puts on their yearly fireworks show in the sky over Tokyo.

When the show reaches its climax and the clock rolls over to midnight, he kisses you.

Whether you’re drunk on a little alcohol or just the excitement of the night, sex on New Years Eve is always fun. It’s so easy to be yourself and to feel beautiful with him - he is such a light hearted and openly loving man - but tipsy sex is always full of smiles and laughter interspersed with little gasps and moans. There’s no shame and it just feels good to be complete with the man you love.

On Lunar New Year, he is taking you out to shop for new clothes and he’s helping you give out cards and gifts. He makes sure to buy a bag of sweets to leave as an offering once you clean the altar at home later that day. In the evening, he’s once again in the kitchen, helping cook eight different dishes for the reunion dinner with a communal hot pot always being the centerpiece of the meal.

Akitaru loves the holidays but his favorite celebrations are the ones for you two specifically: your birthdays and your anniversary.

For his birthday, he just wants a small get together with the rest of the company and maybe a couple friends. He is still as ridiculously easy as ever to shop for, just buy him new exercise equipment and he’ll love it. He works out so much that he wears down and breaks his equipment and he’s always excited to try a new machine.

He especially loves it when you surprise him in the bedroom with something new. If you teach yourself how to deep throat his impressive size, he’ll be wrapped around your little finger for a week straight. If you give him the remote to your vibrating panties while you’re out getting dinner, he’ll break down halfway through your meal and pull you into the bathroom to make you see stars. You never need an excuse to experiment in bed but it’s always fun surprising him with something every year.

For your birthday, Akitaru will always ask you what you want instead of trying to surprise you. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with a party if you don’t want it and he doesn’t want you to be craving more if he plans for a day at home.

If you want to go out, he'll take you to the amusement park for games and roller coasters (one of which he couldn’t even ride because the safety harness didn’t fit over his muscular body). If you like the outdoors, he’ll take you on a hike through one of the nature preserves and lead you to a picnic he prepared for you. If you like to dance, he’s taking you out and trying his best not to step on your toes.

If you want to stay in, Akitaru will buy you a copy of the newest video game you had your eye on and will order pizza so he can watch you try to beat it in one sitting. He’ll spend the morning baking and decorating a cake from scratch and it comes out incredible. He’ll give you a massage and his almost too strong grip feels so good it sends shivers up your spine.

On your birthday, he is in the palm of your hand. Whatever you want to do, anything you want to try, he is so eager to please. He’s an open-minded man and there really aren’t many things that are hard passes for him in bed. He isn’t particularly well versed in the kinky stuff so he’ll need a bit of an explanation sometimes but, once he understands what you want, he will gladly give it to you.

Without a doubt, your anniversary is Akitaru’s favorite holiday of the year. He loves that your anniversary is a celebration of your bond and a reaffirming of your love for each other. He’s honestly just as dramatic on this day as he is on Valentine’s Day - if not more so - and he will come up with the most cheesy, romantic ways of telling you he loves you.

Sticking to tradition, he took you out to a fancy dinner one year to a restaurant with a dress code and no prices on the menu. Even with the overly formal atmosphere, he was still his usual boisterous self throughout the dinner and his sunshine smile puts you at ease. The dinner was spectacular and, even if you normally hated stuffy environments like that, his happiness is contagious and you feel comfortable.

On your anniversary, he makes it his Sol given duty to fuck you until you scream when you cum. He makes it a point to give you the best orgasm of the year, making you finish over and over until your pleasure climbs to a high that has moans shamelessly spilling from your lips. You absolutely cannot walk the day after your anniversary so, every year, you take not only your anniversary off but the day following as well.

Akitaru pays such close attention to your moods and your likes and dislikes when it comes to the holidays throughout the year and tries his best to make you happy. At the end of the day, he just wants to be with you and for you to have a good time.

After all, he loves you so much he wants to spend the rest of his life making happy memories like these together.

#akitaru obi #obi akitaru #akitaru obi x reader #obi akitaru x reader #obi x reader #akitaru x reader #fire force x reader #fire force #enn enn no shouboutai #fanfiction

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seventfics · 3 years ago

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Reverse malarkina au where Mal and Alina are a hot vampire couple who live in a big mansion and Aleksander is the not so innocent bystander who got sick in the rain and needs shelter. Mal and Alina definitely only let him in so he can get better, not to drink his blood or for “other ;) reasons. And Aleksander definitely DID NOT purposefully seek them out and get invited so he could kill them, he didn’t plan to get sick though so now he HAS to keep the cover up. Cue all of them catching feelings

Oh I love this...Vampire-hunter Aleksander comes upon an Already-A-Vampiric-Couple Malina. A nice twist for the throuple dynamic.

I imagine:

Aleksander falls sick on the road. He’s traveling somewhere high between the mountains, in dark countrysides. For anyone who asks, he says he’s on his way to visit his mother, an old hermit of a woman who refuses to live anywhere near a city. It’s an easy lie, when you really do have an isolated mother living far in the woods, just not in this set of mountains.

What he’s really doing is work, following the rumor trail of an old vampire.

A few towns later, a terrible storm hits. The locals warn him not to go to deeper into the valley. They say roosters are crowing at twilight. A blood moon rises in the starry sky. He’s told to keep crosses and garlic on his person, to keep evil away. He accepts the protective charms the ladies of the town gift him out of respect, but Aleksander knows more than he lets on. About foul omens and superstitions. The moon is just a lunar eclipse. Sometimes animals fall out of their habitual cycles. But the real signs—bloodless animal corpses, frenzied horses—are there as well.

The vampire is feeding on the livestock of this town. Some of the people even suffer from anemia. Low iron in their blood.

Aleksander journeys deeper into the valley. He is a relentless hunter, armed with silver stakes. He won’t be caught off-guard.

However, down the road, a long day’s ride on horse, he gets sick. He’d been drenched while out on a stroll. The rain ruined one of his coats. It hadn’t been part of his original plan to fall ill, but he’s a great improviser, and vampires love good, unassuming prey.

And what luck, that just as the fever hits him hard, a mansion rears ahead. Blue light illuminates the lamps of its gates. A wolf howls from the trees, something deep and beastly. He can barely guide his horse through the iron gates.

A sweet young couple greet him.

Maybe at first, Aleksander mistakes them for an ordinary pair. They are so nice and welcoming after all. And he’d been following the trail of one vampire. Or, at least he thought he was.

Maybe the couple—introducing themselves as Starkovs—are two innocent bystanders near the vampire’s den.

As they warm him with good food and a fireplace, though, the wife—Alina—gives herself away. She talks of the same warnings the townspeople do. Not to be traveling so deeply into these parts alone. And then she touches his hand in comfort.

Ice cold flesh.

For the first night, his senses are too affected by fever to watch for everything. To defend himself. Aleksander can only hold his silver necklace close and pray they do not kill him while he is weak. His mentors would be so disappointed.

To his surprise, he awakes whole and undrained in the morning. The boy, Mal, has red eyes, hidden by the lamplight and the drawn curtains. That’s when he knows he is outnumbered and overpowered. But the pair do not seem to want to feast on him immediately. Alina, most of all, insists he stay until he fairs better. It would not be right to allow their guest to leave so soon, and not in such dangerous times! Hasn’t he heard of the strange case of wild animal attacks? Please stay another day.

They’re playing with him, letting him recover so that his blood tastes better.

Aleksander must not show how quickly he is really recovering. They might judge him ready for feasting. He must pretend a little longer on his weakness, and find the right opportunity to strike. Alina and Mal are a close pair. It will be difficult, but if he plays along, to the role of the clueless, sickly traveler, off to see his old mother in the mountains, they might underestimate him...

Yes, they all catch feelings in this game of cat and mouse. ♥

#anon ur brain is huge #malarklina #maldarklina #mal x alina x darkling #vampires alina and mal have the hots for their little sick aleks #reply

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amethyste-7urquoise · 2 years ago

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Lovely Drarry (2/2)

Draco stared at Harry with wide eyes, unsure of how to react to what the dark-haired man had just said. He looked around, wondering if this was a bad joke. After all, Draco was doing him a lot of dirty tricks, so it could very well be revenge. But even when he looked around, he didn't see anyone, it was just the two of them. He refocused on Harry, who was waiting for his answer, genuinely stressed, and he noticed. Unlike him, Harry was a real open book when it came to his emotions, he was almost adorable at times.

"And can I at least know why?" Draco asked perhaps too aggressively.

"To be honest, it's for several reasons…" The Gryffindor thought about the words, then began to speak again after taking a deep breath. "Actually… I'm sick of hating you, I'm sick of being teased, picked on, harassed and that's even for my friends… I don't even know why you're being like this with us and if it's really just for the fact that I didn't shake your hand in first year then I'm going to tell you honestly, I think it's a lousy reaction… And also, I've been watching you…"

Draco was starting to get a sneer of a mocking smile on his lips, ready to retaliate in a scathing manner but he stopped when he heard the last sentence of his Nemesis. He looked up at him, urging him to continue.

"I've been watching you and I've noticed a lot of things that made me question everything I thought about you… I've noticed that you help others, not just your comrades, in a discreet way so that no one would catch you helping them… You are full of benevolence but you hide it behind a huge shell. I also noticed a lot of your personality which I find sincerely interesting, we have common points on certain things. So yes, I would like to learn more about you and I think our friendship could be really good. You're a good person Draco…"

The blond tickeled at the last sentence again as well as at the use of his first name which touched him. He remained silent, inwardly weighing the pros and cons of this potential future friendship. He finally spoke, with no animosity.

"You want to know why I'm doing all this to you?… I'm doing all this shit to you because… I'm jealous of your friends and especially of you. And you piss me off. You piss me off because you have a perfect life and yet you manage to complain about it, it's a real talent of yours. So yes, you lost your parents to Voldemort and you have a good scar now but that's really the only uncool thing that happened to you, but the rest is perfect!… I really wish I was you… Harry."

The dark-haired man listened carefully before smiling slightly at him. He smiled to reassure him, as if to let him know that he heard and understood his thoughts. He also smiled at the fact that it was crazy how little they actually knew each other.

After that, the two boys talked about their lives to better understand each other. And little by little, their discussions rambled on about many different things, asking sometimes awkward questions to get to know each other better, and they saw that they did indeed have a lot in common. This discussion seemed lunar to them, neither of them would ever have thought that they could have discussed like this without ending up killing each other.

Then, as the days went by, they would come to the same place to continue talking, spending hours without even realizing it. The friendship in question formed very quickly, but it changed just as quickly into love. They admitted it after several months, that evening, hiding in the room on request, where they did not let go of each other's eyes, as if the one who looked down would die.

They were true soul mates, but they would learn to understand that in time.

(END)

#harry potter #hp fandom #drarry #hogwarts #soul mates #true love #lovely #2/2 #sorry for my english #harry x draco #draco top #harry bottom #secret relationship #end

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rain-bow-donkey · 3 years ago

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Catch and Release: Ch 28

Inspired by @starsfic work on “Demon Customs.”

Previous chapter

WARNING: Alcoholism

It’s the middle of the night. After another nightmare, Wukong goes to find Macaque.

“You can not escape destiny Sun Wukong!”

Wukong woke with a start. Springing up from his sleeping position on the tree. Heavy breathing from the intense fear he felt in his nightmare.

The Monkey King had been having nightmares like that ever since the Lunar New Years Festival. With the White Bone Sprit haunting his dreams.

He hopes that MK is handling her well enough on his own. Who knows what plans she has for the kid.

Calming down now, Wukong tried to go back to sleep. Guessing from the dark sky it was still the dead if night. It would be a hours even before the sun rises on the horizon.

The King snuggled closer to his blanket and tried to focus on the smell of peaches again. Urging himself to sleep. He not for his eyes to snap wide open at a realization.

He is snuggling up in a blanket. He has a fur pelted blanket that he doesn’t remember bringing with him. But he is wrapped up in one right now.

Getting up in a sitting position, Wukong unwrapped himself from the blanket to examine it.

The King recognized it immediately. It was a courting gift Macaque gave to him long ago. Before the journey.

Wukong doesn’t remember the animal Macaque hunted down to make him this, but the king does remember being happy to receive it.

Despite Wukong being fully capable of hunting and killing his own prey, he still appreciated Macaque doing it for him too.

But those days are over now. And Wukong wanted nothing to do with the blanket or Macaque.

Gathering the fur pelted blanket in his arms and jumping down from the tree, Wukong went to hunt down Macaque and throw the stupid blanket at his head!

If the demon thought Wukong would just forget about their fight earlier then the bastard had another thing coming!

Wukong marched into the manor, up the stairs, and straight to Macaque’s room. Kicking the door down as soon as he got to it and fully intended to start yelling at the demon.

But there was no demon to yell at in there. The room was completely empty.

That stopped Wukong in his tracks. That was weird. It’s the dead of night, if Macaque wasn’t here then where could he be.

The thought of the demon monkey leaving the manor because of their fight crossed Wukong’s mind. Fear started to set its way into the King.

No. No, no, no. He can’t leave me here alone again!

Macaque left Wukong alone for a week. And though the Ling hates to admit it, it was killing him. The loneliness. The isolation. Wukong missed having someone else around him.

Even if all they did was argue and fight, having Macaque around was better than not having him around.

Scared and worried, Wukong started to search for Macaque. He spent a good few minutes running around the manor trying to find the shadow monkey.

It wasn’t until the Sage made his way into the kitchen is when he found who he had been looking for.

Macaque was sitting on a small table with his back to Wukong. The king gave a sigh of relief knowing he wasn’t left alone again.

However, the relief soon turned to anger as the King remembered what he organically set out to do when he found the demon.

To anyone else it would seem that the darker haired monkey hadn’t noticed the other monkey in the room yet.

But Wukong knew better.

He’s called the Six Eared Macaque for a reason. Knowing him, the demon probably heard Wukong running around like a headless chicken all throughout the manor looking for him. The bastard probably thought it was funny seeing Wukong panic like that and just sat back and enjoyed the show.

Well, shows over. And Wukong was back to being pissed.

“Did you have fun?” The King demanded to know. Anger clear in his voice. “Because I didn’t.”

Macaque ears perked up. As if just noticing him. And turned to look at Wukong.

The King was about to throw the blanket at his head at that very moment. Not going to let the demon get a jab in. But stopped.

Wukong expected a smirk on the demons face. Ready to tease and mock the King for being afraid to be alone. But instead of a cocky stupid smile, Macaque looked . . . sad?

His eyes were red and puffy. As if he’d been crying. He looked surprised to see Wukong there in the kitchen with him too. Which was strange to the golden monkey. Macaque should have heard him coming. His ears heard everything.

Wukong scanned the table. Eyes catching the empty wine bottles and it.

Upon seeing them, Wukong anger faded away. Macaque wasn’t much of a drinker. Not from what Wukong remembered at least.

Just when did Macaque pick up this habit of drunk this much? At this late at night?

Lowering the blanket he was about to launch, Wukong made eye contact with Macaque. “How long have you been up for?”

The demon monkey turned away at the question. Going back to his cup and watching it was he swirled the wine around in it. “Not sure to be honest. A few hours?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Macaque.”

“And what?” Macaque set the drink down on the table with a small thud. Turing in his chair to face Wukong again. “Why do you care?”

Wukong didn’t answer. Not sure what to say.

He didn’t need to say anything though. The silence in the room spoke for him. Macaque scoffed and went back to his drink. About to take a sip.

“Just go back to bed. I won’t bother you.”

Before the demon took a swing of his drink, Wukong placed his hand on the rim of the cup. Preventing Macaque from drinking from it.

Pausing in his movement, Macaque looked up at Wukong questioningly. “What are you doing?”

#catch and release #lost and found #the donkey writes #My writing #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #shadowpeach #sun wukong #six eared macaque #WARNING: alcohalism #yeah it was in my first fic of this series andit will continue in this one #also yeah I'm not done with this fic #I started college again so I'm going to be pretty busy #not going to be able to post as much as often anymore

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smeraldos · 4 years ago

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Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

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skellebonez · 4 years ago

Note

if you still wants prompts, how about 9 with red son after being taken in by tang and pigsy, seeing how they, mk, mei, and sandy all act around each other and being completely bewildered and out of his element around an actually affectionate family dynamic?

I had an idea a while ago about what might have happened if WBS had left one of those wisps that possessed the Bull Clones in DBK after episode 10, something she could use to try to manipulate him much more subtly and from a distance behind the scenes, so I'm gonna play around with a smidgen that here (so this ended up a little long... ok a lot long... SUPER LONG, 2K words). This is set between episode 10 and the Lunar New Year special, a little canon divergence.

How long have you been standing there?

The last few weeks hadn't been easy on anyone, but it hit Red Son harder than anyone else. Everyone had been hurt, physically at least, but Red’s hurt was on a deeper level... he'd thought everything was at least back to the status quo after Xiaotian had fought his possessed father.

He had no idea that the fight would be the catalyst for being forced into leaving his parents.

Oh, he had tried to stay. For a while everything had actually been pretty ok, his father was less cold and one minded on gaining power, but it quickly became apparent that something had gone wrong. He tried to talk reason into his father when he began to lash out at him, a little more every day, but after what had happened last time he couldn’t argue without his chest feeling tight and the words sputtering as they escaped his lips. His mother had tried as well, and she had managed to get through to him for a moment before that familiar blue light shone in his eyes and they realized exactly what had happened.

It was at her urging that he leave after that. For his own protection, she said, and Red didn’t know why that brought up so many conflicting emotions. DBK has fixated on him at the White Bone Spirit’s insistent manipulation, once again latching onto the notion of him being a traitor (and that hurt even more the second time around somehow) and she feared she would not be strong enough on her own to keep DBK from nearly succeeding in what he had failed to do last time. They had agreed on a plan, one that would have PIF playing along and pretending to banish her son so she could try to keep DBK under her watchful gaze while Red Son was at the very least out of harm’s reach.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that he wasn’t safe anywhere alone. His mother had kept in contact with him at first, back when he tried to stay in his old apartment. DBK had made short work of that plan and Red realized quickly that if his father considered him a traitor and his mother wanted his safety before anything else he would need to swallow his pride and do the one thing he hadn’t planned on trying.

He went to Pigsy’s Noodles and asked for shelter... After he was body slammed by Noodle Boy and his two companions there, naturally. He supposed now that the reaction was relatively warranted.

The first thing they asked him was “How long have you been standing there?” since he was completely soaked in the rain that was pouring outside.

It was the scholar, Tang, who had listened to him most out of anyone. He seemed to be well versed in the stories of the White Bone Spirit and knowing the fight Xiaotian had put up against his father (and seeing the news stories of DBK smashing a random apartment) he was more than willing to give him a chance. Xiaotian had seemed willing to help after a time and once his stomach started growling and he admitted he had not eaten a full meal in over a day (and had been eating the worst meals he had in a while due to always being on edge) while hiding Pigsy had scowled and told him to sit down and wait. It was an awkward silence that fell over everyone.

The bowl of soup the pig demon placed in front of him was the best looking and smelling thing he had seen in days and he could barely hold himself back from scarfing it down. It was delicious, not that he was ready to admit so out loud. “Perfectly adequate” was what he had said when asked, around a full mouthful of noodles no less. He doubted it fooled anyone.

Though he hadn’t known what to expect when he asked for help, where they would send him or if they would even say yes. He thought maybe he would be sent to stay with Sun Wukong, though that would have been the worst possible outcome given their less than stellar history, or been told to stay with Xiaotian in his cramped tiny apartment. What he hadn’t expected was Pigsy to lead him out by the shoulder with a firm grip toward his and Tang’s apartment.

They’d given him their spare room and an old mattress and a set of rules. No going off on his own for his own safety (though he had a sneaking suspicion they also didn’t fully trust him which was honestly fair). He would work with Xiaotian on his deliveries or in the Noodle Shop (the idea of driving with Noodle Boy all day made him shudder and he hoped he would be set to work in the kitchen instead most days, but he bit his tongue). He could leave only if he stayed with Xiaojiao or Sandy. No catching things on fire (again, fair). Try not to fight with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao too much.

They tried to work out some kind of payment but he knew his father had no idea how bank accounts worked so he assured them he would at least be financially stable.

And things just... fell together somehow.

In time he started calling Xiaotian and Xiaojiao by their names rather than the nicknames he has given them. He found he actually quite liked Xiaotian’s music and driving delivery routes was not as bad as he feared. Xiaojiao had shown him the wonders of street racing (in disguise and the less Pigsy and Tang knew the better) and they bonded over mechanics. He had met Sandy and his many cats and learned that he was both a cat magnet and, according to Sandy, needed anger management (and also bonded with him over mechanics). He’d seen Sun Wukong only once, very briefly and neither saying a word in awkward silence. But somehow he could tell the monkey looked sad as he flew off back to Mount Huaguo.

Soon enough Pigsy had allowed him to help making soup and as it turned out while his own preferences for spicy food weren’t exactly popular with most normal clientele it drew an entire new group of food challengers. Pigsy seemed more than appreciative of this.

Tang, meanwhile, was overjoyed to have someone to talk to about all his stories and scholarly pursuits that wasn’t just Xiaotian and an annoyed (if, Red eventually realized, affectionately so) Pigsy. It was honestly quite fun to discuss topics he knew about and learn things even he had not known, learn how humans had passed down stories of demons he knew long ago, and just enjoy mildly antagonizing Pigsy in good fun.

This was all stuff he almost could have anticipated given what he knew about them all already. What he hadn’t anticipated was how... affectionate they all were.

Oh, some things he expected. Pigsy and Tang constantly being together? That wasn’t much unlike his parents. Xiaojiao grabbing him in hugs and pulling him around? He had seen how she was with others, that seemed in her character. Xiaotian bumping shoulders with him all the time? Much the same. Granted, he flinched every time this happened out of reflex.

But his confusion had started when Pigsy had ruffled Xiaotian’s hair on the first day Red Son worked in the noodle shop. The action baffled him, especially when the other young man swatted away the chef’s hands in annoyance, but there was a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice that belayed that he hadn’t hated the action.

He saw how much Xiaotian and Xiaojiao hugged, threw their arms over their shoulders, playfully punched each other. How Tang would also ruffle their hair and how Pigsy would move Xiaotian with a firm hand to where he needed him to be walking to. How Sandy would just gather everyone up in massive group hugs out of the blue.

He saw how Pigsy sometimes, when no one else watched, gave Tang the free helping of noodles he hassled him for with a smile. How he frowned after Xiaotian as he walked up to his apartment on shaky legs that were tired from a day of work and fighting demons. How Tang and Pigsy would sometimes reach over the counter and hold hands for a second before going back to what they were doing. How one time he had seen Xiaotian and Xiaojiao sitting back to back on his bed when he was sent up to get them and just... enjoy each other’s company.

He heard the nicknames and saw the casual brushes of hands and bumps of shoulders and smiles and gazes and it...

It made him realize how alone he had been with his mother, before his father had returned. How he almost always had Bull Clones for companions as he worked on his machines, how she rarely gave him casual touches of affection. Even after his father had returned she had been somewhat cold to him. His father was far more concerned with opening the box that started all of this, though he did not know how much blame to place on his father’s neglect itself or the influence he was under.

He loved his parents and he was certain they loved him. He had to be certain of that. But he could no longer deny they were not... affectionate.

So when one day Tang had reached out to grab his shoulder he had panicked.

Luckily he hadn’t burned the man, he had jumped back when he felt his hair flaming up, and he apologized profusely (when had he started being apologetic for his actions? maybe he was just afraid they would second guess giving him a chance and kick him out) for almost harming him.

It surprised him even more when Tang apologized and asked if he was the one ok, saying he didn’t mean to startle him and he should have asked before touching him. He honestly didn’t know what to say, staring at the man before Pigsy had managed to get his attention. Again, he apologized, saying he just didn’t expect it and that it was alright. He didn’t care as long as he wasn’t surprised again.

Something changed after that. Every morning when he woke up Tang and Pigsy made it a point to just nudge him in some way after getting his attention. A grip on his shoulder, warm and firm. A nudge on his arm. At first he tensed or flinched just like when Xiaotian or Xiaojiao touched him, but after a while he just... got used to it. Soon their gentle affection didn’t elicit any reaction and after that he realized he was starved for this kind of attention. He wanted more, not much, maybe he could stand his hair being ruffled a bit now.

And so he started to return it. He grabbed Xiaotian’s arm one day to get his attention and the look of surprise and joy on his face told Red that Pigsy and Tang must have told him something. He started sitting closer to him in the tuk-tuk, no longer pushing away when a bump made their shoulders brush together. He sat closer to Xiaojiao when they played video games or worked on blueprints for their rides. He allowed Sandy’s cats to have free reign of him (within reason) and accepted the hugs and nudges the large man had clearly been holding back from him (he was never able to initiate contact first, the other man was too touchy for him to beat him to it).

He started tapping Pigsy on the shoulder at work for his attention. He didn’t sit two seats away from Tang anymore, instead sitting right beside him.

And a few weeks later when Tang reached up to ruffle his hair the same way he did with Xiaotian he paused, looking at Red Son for permission. He nodded his head yes.

He knew why his old rival seemed to like them so much now.

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potassium-pilot · 3 years ago

Text

Prompt 6: Avatar

“How do you stand it?” asked Estinien with a small growl in his voice.

“Stand what?” replied Aymeric curiously, unsure what he could possibly withstand.

“Having Dia in your house. Ever since I joined the Scions, she’s been a nuisance. I’ve not known peace. I’ll be on my own trying to eat, and she’ll appear from nowhere to sit down and interrogate me.”

The two engaged in a long overdue chat, borne from a request made by the Lord Commander to both Estinien (“Please, remember to stop by Ishgard sometime, old friend. I would certainly welcome a bit of catching up” Aymeric asked once upon a time) and Tataru (“I somehow doubt he’ll stop by Ishgard. Could I trouble you for an occassional update as you also provide for Dia?”) As an old friend, and one of the Scion’s most generous financial and supply contributors, she was more than happy to oblige, and even conspire to make him see the good Lord Speaker.

“The man will drown me in questions”, complained Estinien at the time.

“Who wouldn’t?!” Tataru countered, “It’s important to him, and as he’s a backer of the Scions, I would much rather keep him happy! Don’t you want to at least see your oldest friend again?”

And so he did. And so he found himself in the parlor of Borel Manor sipping on tea, sans birch syrup for the dragoon.

“How is she interrogating you?” Aymeric inquired.

“She’ll badger me with questions about the meal I’m eating and how my day is going, and make all sorts of strange quips. I don’t understand why either. She wasn’t like this when the four of us entreated Hraesvelgr, or even recently when we freed Tiamat and fought the lunar primals.”

Aymeric set his tea down on the table. “My friend, having experienced real interrogation, I believe you’re being rather dramatic.”

Estinien brought his gaze to his lap, rather embarrassed at the idea that he managed somehow to forget Aymeric’s ordeal at the Vault. It was never far from his mind, however. The image of his closest friend battered and bruised and the image of the knight who dared to protect Dia impaled by a spear of light haunted him every now and again.

“…perhaps a better choice of words was in order. Forgive me”, said Estinien meekly.

Aymeric released a sigh through his nose. “I can find it in my heart to forgive you…if you give Dia a chance. She’s not herself at work, and she’s trying to be herself with you, and engaging you in the longstanding pasttime of ‘welcoming you to a new place’ is a part of it.”

“How do you mean ‘at work’?”

“The Scions are as much employment as they are her second family. She’s rather singleminded in her focus when it comes to her assignments given by them. When no work is to be found with the Scions, it’s a very different story. ‘Twas much the same with the two of us once, and clearly, you’ve only ever engaged with her when she was working.”

Estinien harumphed and said, “Bollocks. You don’t become a different person just because you have a task at hand.”

“Really? Because I’ve watched you do just that.”

Estinien growled, but accepted defeat. He was right, after all. “Fine. I just don’t understand how she can be that chummy with the lot of us, then.”

“As I understand it, that group went through a rather harrowing experience together, a change from usually sending Dia into the harrowing experience alone.” Estinien couldn’t help but notice a tinge of resentment in his friend’s remark. Regardless, he responded, “From the meetings I’ve been dragged into, ‘harrowing’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. The woman’s inhuman, Aymeric. No one could have survived what she did, yet she’s still here. I simply don’t understand why, and she refuses to explain.”

“Have you asked?”

“Yes, more than once. She simply doesn’t go into detail beyond what I’m sure you already know.”

Dia explained most of what transpired on the First to him after her official return when she managed to awaken the Scions. He was sure there was some sensitive information for Scion ears only that he couldn’t be privy to, but what was it that not even Estinien could know?

“And the other Scions know naught?”

“They mentioned that a wayward soul aligned with hers.” Ardbert, Aymeric thought.

“I’m well aware of Ardbert.”

“Ardbert?” Estinien shot back quizically.

“Aye, the Warrior of Darkness.”

“What in hells is she doing with a Warrior of Darkness in her soul?”

“Did they truly not discuss this in those meetings of yours?”

“Wasn’t exactly a topic of focus.”

“Fair enough”, Aymeric conceded, “At any rate, she’s incredible, is she not?”

“I’m still concerned she’s not saying everything she needs to say.”

“Hm, surviving impossible situations, refusing to discuss certain matters outright and going to great measures to avoid a conversation she does not wish to be a part of? Who could do such things, I wonder?” Aymeric faked consideration, enjoying teasing the dragoon.

“You’ve made your point”, Estinien sternly fired back, “I just wish she’d tell me what that bloody crystal does.”

“Crystal?”

Estinien raised his eyebrows at the question. “Have you not seen it?”

“No, I haven’t. What crystal?”

“There’s this strange yellow crystal that I caught her fiddling with, and when I asked about it, she hastily put it away and ran off.”

That concerned Aymeric, to say the least. What was she doing not telling him something? Not telling the Scions something?

“I’m telling you, something is off with the woman. Clutching crystals, carrying warriors of darkness in her soul- I don’t like it, Aymeric. Something’s wrong.”

Aymeric stayed silent. He was pondering just what she could be hiding. What piece was he missing?

“Speaking of, didn’t you say she’d be joining us?”

“She should have been here by now, yes. Why don’t I try contacting her? I’m sure she just landed herself into becoming a helping hand, as is her wont.”

In fact, Dia was hiding in the hallway near the parlor during that whole conversation. At first, she just wanted to leave the two of them alone for a bit, see how they’d do before she would walk in. Then, they started talking about her. They were going to demand answers, answers she couldn’t bring herself to give.

They were going to leave her once they found out, she just knew it.

She felt exactly one thing, and that was a desperate need to flee, escape from the hall before they could ask anything. She would leave them before they could leave her. Quickly, she teleported from the hall to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona.

“Did you hear that?” Aymeric inquired.

“I did, aye. Did someone teleport in?”

Aymeric stepped towards the hall quickly to investigate the sound of a teleportation spell. No one was in the hall.

“Maybe I misunderstand, but it could be that someone teleported out rather than in.”

“…that wasn’t her, was it?” Estinien hypothesized cautiously.

“I’m…unsure.” Aymeric put a hand on the linkpearl and attempted to contact her.

Nothing.

After another attempt brought no change, he decided to resort to the best person hunter in Eorzea: Tataru Taru. As she wasn’t available on his linkpearl, this required an in-person visit.

“I hate to cut this short, as I was the one who bid you come, but—“

“No need to apologize. I’ll come with you.”

The two teleported to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona and entered the Rising Stones proper.

“Oh, welcome, Lord Commander! And welcome back, Estinien. Did you two enjoy tea?” greeted Tataru cheerfully.

“Aye, for a while,” answered Estinien, “but I’m afraid we have a problem now.”

“Oh?”

Trying to hide his worry, Aymeric asked, “Did Dia come by here, per chance?”

Tataru shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since our meeting yesterday. I thought she was with you.”

“She was, but she had left the house earlier before he arrived to handle some leves, and promised to be back in time for tea. She didn’t come. I contacted her only to have my calls ignored.”

Tataru’s eyes widened.

“I’m telling you, it’s that hells-damned crystal and that Ardbert you mentioned” Estinien accused, “What else could make her act like this?”

“Crystal?” Tataru inquired.

“We can worry about the crystal later”, Aymeric responded, “Our first concern should be discerning her location.”

“Maybe you two should return to Ishgard, ask around and see if anyone’s seen her. I can send Hoary to ask around Mor Dhona and make sure she didn’t come by here”, proposed the lalafell.

“Not a bad idea”, replied Estinien. The two elezen teleported back to Ishgard, ready to begin a search. “I’ll take care of the asking, Aymeric. You should be there in case she comes back.”

“Estinien-“

“That wasn’t a request, Aymeric. Go home.”

*********************

They would get nowhere. They would never get to where she went.

Dia found herself in the Crystarium. The people happily greeted her as she walked through the settlement, but she could only return half-hearted sentiments. She was a bit distracted, after all. She settled on the Pendants as it offered peace and quiet while still fully assuring that no one would be able to contact her by linkpearl. The innkeeper led her to her old room, exactly as she had left it, minus the half-eaten food and Ardbert’s wandering spirit interrupting her respite.

She sat down on the bed, unsure what to make of what happened, of what she heard, of what Estinien was truly thinking. It was one thing that he was a bit grouchy about the way she would tease him when she was there. It was another thing to accuse her of becoming something completely different, of being inhuman. She’s not a monster, after all.

…right?

“I’m not a monster”, she said to herself, trying to convince herself that she was, in fact, as human as the rest. But that doubt still lingered. Beq Lugg said her soul was the densest soul she’d ever seen. Why would Emet-Selch have bothered if she were simply another “inferior being” as he put it? Where did Azem end and Dia begin? Was there ever truly a Dia? Was she technically Ardbert as well if that were the case? She flung her head into her hands, unsure what to make of any of it.

“You’re going to have to go back, you know.”

Ardbert’s voice rang through her head.

“Oh, what do you know?” she retorted to her eighth part.

“I was there. Whether you like it or not, I do see some things.”

“Try to see less, will you?”

“Would that I could.”

She sighed. “I’m well aware that I need to go back. I’m sure eventually, Aymeric is going to become concerned about how long I’ve been gone, as will the other Scions.”

“So what are we doing here, then?”

“You know what we’re doing here.”

“Ah yes, a completely rational, logical decision that only came after you gave it complete consideration and immeasurable forethought.”

She scowled at his disembodied voice. “Sarcasm is ill-becoming of dead men.”

“Good thing I live in you now. You have enough sass for two.”

She groaned, “What in hells do I tell them?” She put on a very saccharine, pleasant tone. ‘Hey, by the way, I’m eight parts of an amaurotine that was on the same council as Elidibus, Emet-Selch, Lahabrea, and all those lovely other people we’ve met that hurt all of you one way or another. I might have even been best friends with Emet-Selch, but don’t worry, I’m NOT an Ascian. I was one of good ones!’”

“Perfect, you already know your lines.”

“I’m not telling them that! That’s absurd!”

“What’s absurd is crossing time and space to avoid a conversation.”

She threw herself back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They hurt so many people, Ardbert. What would they think if I told them I was an ally?”

“I think somehow, they’ll figure out that you are two different people.”

“How can they figure that out when I’m not too sure myself?” Dia asked through tears.

“Simple. They wouldn’t give a damn.”

“How do you know?”

“Azem didn’t join them in summoning Zodiark and you didn’t actively try to kill them.”

Dia stayed silent for a moment. “Are we who we say we are, Ardbert?”

“We need to make a distinction here. I see Azem as a person who lived in the time of the ancients and served in their government. I see an ascian as a back-stabbing piece of amaro shite who serves Zodiark. Now other than that big gaping hole you left in Hades, you’ve never been a backstabber, nor are you amaro shite, and unless there’s been a massive change of heart that I’m unaware of, you definitely do not serve Zodiark. Now what do you think?”

She lied still, trying to take in the feeling of the bright linen beneath her fingers, the solidity of the ground beneath her boots, the smell in the air like fresh laundry and cookies. Slowly, she started pointing out the bricks on the ceiling and counting them. She lost her grip on reality, and Ardbert was helping with her return.

“I think I need to tell Aymeric at least.”

“If it gets us back to the Source, I’m all for it.”

She sat up once again, still barely tethered to her reality. This isn’t the first time she’s had an attack like this. Usually, they’re smaller, and happen when she tries to sleep, the result being nothing more than a simple jolt upward in her bed. When that meant her bed in Dawn’s Respite, she would get up and handle other business as she could to tire herself out. In Borel Manor, it was a much quicker process, in which Aymeric would quickly join her and calm her down, holding her until she fell asleep again.

He didn’t mind because she does the same for him.

As she slowly regained her composure, an incredible wash of embarrassment covered her.

“Did you imagine you’d be dating someone when you joined your soul with mine, Ardbert?”

“The thought crossed my mind. You talked about him endlessly. A man that looks like that? I could certainly think of worse prices to pay in exchange for saving my world.”

Dia chuckled.

“You could do far worse, anyways. I’m glad this Aymeric fellow’s pretty decent.”

“Yeah, me too.”

*********************

The hours had passed. The midday that let the two men enjoy their tea earlier gave way to twilight. Aymeric sat at the settee, doing anything to get his mind off of his missing Dia. Today was an off-day, yet there he sat with paperwork at the coffee table, trying to drown himself under amendments and statutes and arguments for the coming days. It did little to assuage worries, and may have even exacerbated them, but it was something to move his mind away from it.

“THE BLEEDING FIRST!”

The roar of the Azure Dragoon shook the foundation. Aymeric shot up and hurried towards the hall.

“My lord, you have a visitor”, announced the steward in a very tired voice.

“Thank you, Angelbert.” Estinien arrived at the doorway of the parlor.

“SHE WENT THROUGH THE BLEEDING RIFT AND NOW SHE’S IN THE GODSDAMNED FIRST!”

“Estinien, calm down! Where did you hear that?!”

“Tataru called me! Apparently, Hoary had a witness tell him she went east of the aetheryte, and the Sons of Saint Coinach confirmed it!”

Aymeric, stunned by the revelation, moved to sit down.

“You all right?” Estinien checked.

“So she just…left Hydaelyn entirely?”

“From the sounds of it.”

“And…no one else can get her?”

“She’s the only bloody person capable of traveling through the rift unscathed.”

He did nothing. He couldn’t do anything. If he looked at his work anymore, his brain would simply shatter. She went back to the First, of all places. Why the First? Why did she leave? What isn’t she telling him?

As if Halone had heard his thoughts, he heard a door close, and muffled behind the walls were the words, “Ah, there you are!” from the mouth of Angelbert. Footsteps drew closer to their location until finally, her appearance graced the doorway and Dia met her gaze with Aymeric’s.

“YOU!” Estinien shouted with the force of the Fury behind his voice. He marched towards the Warrior of Light and stared her down. “Do you know what kind of trouble you caused?! You made Tataru send out a Scion after you! You made me question all of godsdamn Ishgard before we found out you went off to the First! We couldn’t contact you! What in the seven hells were you thinking?!”

“ESTINIEN!”

Aymeric rarely yelled. Yelling was not his personal go-to outside of the battlefield. In his experience, yelling did nothing but fray emotions further. Sometimes, however, it was necessary.

Particularly now, as he didn’t want his friend screaming in his girlfriend’s face anymore.

Estinien turned around, still a little shocked to hear him yell like that.

“Please go. I wish to have a word alone with her.”

“But—“

“I will take care of this! Leave!”

With a blink, and a scowl towards Dia and her behavior, he eventually stomped off to return to the Rising Stones. Dia turned to Aymeric and asked meekly, “Are you going to yell at me too?”

“No. I will not yell at you.” He kept his voice calm despite a sea of anguish that brewed beneath him.

“Are you sure? You deserve it. I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“Even if I wanted to, where would we be if I hurt you back? All I want is an answer.”

Dia reached into her inventory, and pulled out something that glinted from the light of the fireplace. A small yellow crystal revealed itself in the palm of her hand. She stepped towards him and offered it for his inspection. Curiously, he took it and gave it a look.

“There. That’s what I’ve been hiding. Not even the Scions know what it does. I pray they don’t find out either.”

To him, it felt strange holding the chunk of crystal. There was definitely something strange about it, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He met her gaze, and asked “Why?”

She sighed, and said, “Aymeric, you know me well enough to understand that trust isn’t easily given by me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stop herself from losing her tether to reality once more. “I trust you. I wholeheartedly, unambiguously trust you. I tell you this for two reasons: one, because I want to tell you something that I need you to swear you’ll never speak a word of to anyone, not even Estinien.”

He nodded. She took a deep breath.

“That crystal holds my memories as an ancient, as well as a power I once held in that life that helped me escape from Elidibus’ clutches when I fought him.” He shot his gaze back at the crystal, as if it could tell him that she was joking, or lying. It said nothing. He returned his wandering eye back to her.

“Much like Lahabrea, Elidibus, and Emet-Selch, I was a member of their Convocation of Fourteen when I was whole, before that world became fourteen shards. I held the title of Azem.”

Before he could say anything, she had moved on. “Azem opposed the summoning of Zodiark and gave up their seat. Or I did. I think of all the things about this, that’s the worst part. I’m not sure where Azem ends and Dia begins, or if I ever truly was Dia for that matter. At any rate, that means that I once filled their ranks, and the ascians, including the one that corrupted the Archbishop, once considered me a…friend.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. He wasn’t sure if he cared. Azem was of a time well before him. Her past life was not what he cared about, but the life that stood before him now. The one to whom he owed so much, to whom everyone in Eorzea owed so much. The one that loved him, the one that he loved.

“That’s…a lot…”

“There’s a second reason I told you that I trust you. And that’s because I just broke your trust, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry I did. I stupidly thought if you knew, Aymeric, you’d leave, and so would the others. I panicked, and-“

“That’s why.” He interrupted, something rather unlike him, but he felt it was his job to stop spirals before they could begin. “You overheard Estinien, didn’t you? We heard the sound of teleportation in the hall.” She nodded.

“Look, what you once were in millenia past is of no importance to me. You joined ranks with ascians in a time long past, but you are most assuredly not an ascian.” He placed his hands on her shoulders calmly. “You are Dia Sito, no matter what anyone says. You are my partner, you are a scholar, a master culinarian, a weaver with skills second to none, and so much more to so many. You have defined Dia Sito to all of us. None would know of you as Azem, regardless of what you were told on the First. You, Dia Sito, are not an ascian, have not conspired with ascians, and have no plans to serve Zodiark…unless there’s another thing you have refrained from mentioning.”

She let out a laugh through her nose. “No, that’s about it on secrets.”

“Good. Now come, sit down.” He gently kissed her forehead and guided her to the settee with an arm around her shoulder. “I also need you to understand that your past life having engaged with paragons is not sufficient grounds for me to leave. I’m not going anywhere.”

She took a good look at him, and he at her, before the two leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I owe Estinien an apology as well, don’t I?”

“Perhaps, but I believe he owes you one as well. Go at your own pace, Dia.”

“I will. I can’t say I won’t be walking into a death trap the minute I walk into the Rising Stones.”

“You fear Estinien will have a second wind?”

“No, that Tataru will have a first wind.” He chuckled. “Estinien is nothing compared to the wrath of Tataru Taru”, she said, meaning every word behind it.

“I imagine the lot of them might have something to say of this.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” she stood up, “I should probably—“ He grabbed her wrist gently, and told her with a smile, “They can wait.”

“I need to tell at least one of them that I’ve come back.”

“You do have a linkpearl. I would recommend contacting the one least likely to enter into hysterics.”

Alphinaud, she thought.

“Very well.” She sat back down next to him, and placed a hand on her linkpearl.

“This is Alphinaud.”

“Hi, Alphinaud, it’s Dia.”

“Dia! Thank the Twelve! Hoary said you’d run off to the First. What happened? Are you quite all right?”

“Am I alive and kicking? Yes. Am I all right? I’ll need a minute to get back to you on that.”

Alphinaud sighed in relief. That was Dia all right.

“I’m surprised, Alphinaud. Was Estinien not in a tirade upon his return to the Rising Stones?”

“He slammed the door behind him on his way into Dawn’s Respite, but that’s nothing too unusual. We tried to ask him of your return, but he ignored us. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, let’s just say he and I didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries when he saw I came back.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, I’ll return to explain myself tomorrow. I just wanted to let someone over there know I’m in the Source and in Borel Manor.”

“Mm, I understand why you came to me now. Very well, I shall disseminate word of your arrival to our comrades. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course. Thank you for not shouting at me.”

He giggled. “Any time.”

“Good night.”

Little did she know that the minute Alphinaud exclaimed her name, all the Scions except for Estinien gathered to listen to the call.

“I feel better, I think”, Dia told Aymeric.

“Very good”, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry for ruining your tea.”

“Think nothing of it. We’ll have more where that came from.”

She gave a rather sad smile. “Stop being so good about this. I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve anything I could ever give. I only wish my love were enough.”

“It’s more than enough, it’s more than I’m even worthy of, my dear.”

For a moment, there was a flash. A black robe covering her arm, a black mask in her hand, and a different room appeared before her. As she turned her head, a familiar face that Dia never met before looked back to her with a wry smile on his face. In that same moment, it returned to the soft and gentle smile of Aymeric de Borel, with blue eyes shimmering as he looked into her soul itself, it seemed. She didn’t even realize until that moment that she clutched Azem’s crystal like her life depended on it. She released it quickly, not wanting it’s influence at that moment.

“I’m so tired”, she said, swallowing tears.

“I know.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t.” He reached around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“I’m so lost”, she said, the tears releasing.

“Then I’ll help you find your way.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

She had nothing more to say. Only sobs came from her. Azem weighed too heavy, and she only held eight parts. Dia lost her tether after that flashback. Aymeric had a rope for her to use instead to pull her back. She felt his heartbeat, his breathing, his warmth, the fabric of his shirt, of the settee, then tried to count the symbols that made up his wallpaper through tear-soaked eyes. Slowly, she regained control of her breath, the sobs reigned in, and the tears less poured out and more trickled. It helped that he was there to gently rub her back. It was soothing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, my love.”

She took the crystal and placed it on the coffee table to avoid the risk of clutching it once again. Now that he knew, she had no need to hide it on her person.

“May I ask why you carry it then? If it burdens you so, it seems imprudent to keep it on.”

She shook her head. “For whatever feelings I have about the ascians, about the whole of Amaurot…that is a part of me. It feels wrong to keep it away.”

“Such is the burden of knowledge, is it not?”

“Now that it’s there, I can never truly remove it. I would rather try and learn from it as much as I can. I feel I owe it to them.”

“To the ascians?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, to Amaurot, and to history. I’d be a terrible scholar if I didn’t try.”

He let out a light laugh, and looked to her. “Even the best of scholars need a break from their tomes.”

“I know. So I’ll lay it there for now.” She let out a scoff of her own. “‘Tis strange, I feel as though I might as well have said, ‘I’ll lay my arm here.’”

“It’s that affixed to you?”

“To an extent. That is me after all.”

“In an incredibly detached sense, yes. Mayhap you should leave it alone for a while. Return to it another time.”

She let out a long breath through her nose while she stared at it. Aymeric took the crystal in his hand, feeling the strange sensation once more, and stood up. “If it’s quite all right with you, I’d like to place it in a drawer upstairs. When the time comes that you need it again, you’ll be able to access it with ease.”

As attached to it as she became, he was right. It did no good for her to obsess over it. She nodded, stood up and followed him upstairs.

Everything that made up Azem sat in a drawer in the master bedroom for quite some time. Dia still felt conflict in her soul, but it did much to separate her from further flashbacks and keep her grounded in the world as it is now. Amaurot, the Convocation, the Final Days, they laid idly by as Eorzea, the Scions, the Grand Company of Eorzea, and the looming threat of Fandaniel and his own machinations took priority. Of all times for her to place the crystal aside, it was when the knowledge was needed most. If she didn’t, however, the knowledge threatened to consume her. No, it was for the best. It needed to be away from her ever-growing curiosity.

That is, until the time came that she could no longer sit by in Eorzea. The crystal saw light once more and took it’s place with Dia when the world needed her.

#otherwise known as the girls got an identity crisis #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #aymeric x wol #aymeric de borel #estinien wyrmblood #tataru taru #stakey can’t stop writing about these two ahhhhh

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honeytea8 · 4 years ago

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Hey, first a small reminder: your blog makes me happy! UwU Then, I really need Passione gang and s/o, that has a stand with only one purpose: Chaos! The more, the better. Like, summon it and get ready for some rubber chickens rain, screaming tornadoes, triple raibows, etc. And, since Stand represents user's soul, meet the same chaotic good personality, that's always makes stuff, that leaves you only one question: why?

I’m so glad this blog makes you happy 🥺🥺 that’s so encouraging to hear! Also, I had a blast writing this request. Like, oh my goodness, how fun would it be to have this stand! 💗🤣

Bruno Bucciarati

Is fully aware of how you can get and thinks your chaotic good personality is a great addition to the team (for the most part lol)

Your stand will definitely catch him off guard at first but Bucciarati is a quick thinker

I think he’ll be able to manage his way through even the craziest stunts your stand may pull

Will trust you to make the right decisions and know your limits so that you don’t cause yourself harm

When your stand does something unbelievable, he’ll say something like “That is one hell of a stand y/n, you never cease to amaze me.”

Quite proud of you actually; wishes he had been a bit of a renegade like you early on in his mafia career.

Narancia Ghirga

YO! This guy lights your FUSE!

Narancia will constantly try to get you to use your stand at inappropriate times just to see what’ll happen. You guys turn it into a game and it’s hell for everyone around.

What will happen next? Will the sky turn purple? What about a lunar eclipse? Or zero gravity in the middle of the city?

The possibilities are endless, and Narancia has made it his personal goal to find them all!

He’ll be like, “Y/n, I’m so boreeeed! Let’s play a game 😈”

With a stand that unpredictable, let’s just say the gang is in for a bit of a surprise when you and Narancia get hit with a burst of inspiration for more half-baked experiments.

Don Giorno Giovanna

Has no clue what to think at first when your stand causes a citywide blackout. But is fascinated and wants to learn more.

I can’t help but think Giorno would use your stand as trump card or like a secret weapon lmao

Like let’s be real, your stand is quite the interesting one, and it’s bound to take the enemy by surprise.

“Y/n, are you injured? Here, let me take a look.” As he pulls you to the side he’ll say something like “You did well out there, good work.” (might peck your cheek or hand)

Giorno would definitely recognize your value as a soldato, but as an s/o I think he’d be just as curious as Narancia—just not as reckless

He would never ask you to use it unless necessary but trust that he’ll be paying very close attention when you do

Pannacotta Fugo

He’s the complete opposite of Narancia, but it makes sense, given his own stand is so volatile in nature.

He won’t want to indulge in any potential chaos your stand may cause.

Fugo understands the dangers of having that kind of power, so his top priority would be your safety.

You may not like this, but he’ll be a bit stifling.

“Y/n, stay back and let the others handle it. We’ll just get in the way this time.”

Chances are, if you’re just as chaotic as your stand suggests, you won’t be listening to Fugo much (if ever) lmao

He’ll probably be left to clean up your messes depending on how grand scale the effects of your stand is.

Will pull your ear or pinch your cheek as payback for being so bullheaded, even if your intentions were good

Leone Abbacchio

You literally give him the biggest headache ever and he simply can’t be bothered with keeping track of all the crazy shit your stand does.

Those are the facts lmao

He loves you, but you tend to cause a lot of trouble for him, considering he’s the oldest of the pack on top of being your bf.

Abba is usually the only one who can reign you in.

“Oi quit fucking around y/n. Put your damn stand away before you cause another earthquake.”

He’ll probably scold you a lot if your stand interferes with the success of the mission. It’s always about the mission with this one 🙄

Not above giving you his own brand of punishment if and when you mess up.

Secretly admires your good heart that rebels against society, but still follows its own moral compass towards justice

Guido Mista

You're a handful, but you're his handful.

“Damn babe, you really made it snow in the middle of July! That’s so awesome!”

Mista is kind of your cheerleader lmao

Your stand and the Pistols get together and even more chaos ensues, mostly because Mista has even less control over his stand than you lmfao

There’s actually an unspoken rule that you and Mista don’t get paired up for missions together, somehow you two are an even worse combination than say you and Narancia

Mista will make lots of comments and compare your stand to the apocalypse, then go off on a tangent about possible theories and ways your stand could be used in the apocalypse 😂

Is cool with anything as long your stand doesn’t suddenly conjour up 4 million number fours (he’s had this nightmare before)

#bruno bucciarati x reader #guido mista x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #giorno giovanna #guido mista #leone abbacchio #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #bruno bucciarati #queue #jojo x reader #jjba x reader

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astrodances · 4 years ago

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Can I request Penumbra just away from the city reflecting on the situation she found herself in only to see a ship crashing on the moon's surface and rushing off thinking it's Della, but only to find Donald. Then, resolving to keep him safe from Lunaris, while filling him in on the invasion plan.

Hey dear anon! Don't know if you're still around, but I finally wrote something for this prompt from like two years ago! And I hope you don't mind, but I deviated slightly from the prompt to make it canon-compliant (a.k.a. Penny doesn't get to Donald first). Thank you for the prompt though, and I hope you enjoy! :)

AO3 link here!

_____

Sea of Treachery

It doesn't take Penumbra long to find her spear after she confronts Lunaris about his true intentions. She knows the lay of the land, especially the perimeter around Tranquility, better than anyone, and her spear juts out easily from the surrounding rocks when she finally spots it, the metal glistening in brilliant sunshine.

She should be proud that she landed the throw all the way from her garage. Instead, she's just relieved to see Della's repairs on the shaft still holding strong.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so helpless after all.

Yet instead of going back to Tranquility, Penumbra finds herself meandering the outskirts of her city, until she reaches the drawing of Della she made before on a rock. The crack she made with her spear is still there, of course, its path piercing Della's chalky hair and arm. Penumbra traces the fracture with her hand, letting it linger here and there.

Where there was anger before she now only feels remorse. She fell for Lunaris' trap. She flipped the switch and sent Della home early. She put her own people's lives, and most certainly those of the Earthers, of Della's people, in the hands of a very dangerous man who now has the key for his plans with the manual.

With a startling swiftness and a ferocious cry, Penumbra twists about and tosses her spear directly into the rock behind her. The resulting splintering sound is satisfying, but not as much as the image of her general's face that her mind projects onto the rock beneath her spear. She knows it won't help her current dilemma, but she can't deny that it takes some of the sting out of the betrayal.

The next two Earth rotations turn out to be one of the most exhilarating times of Penumbra's life, if her heart rate's anything to go by, but she would gladly take on all of the Moon's beasts herself instead of this feeling.

Lunaris has been quick to rally the Moonlanders into beginning the construction of his fleet of ships, and they've bought into it, leaving Penumbra no choice but to look like she's supporting the effort, too, like a good, loyal second-in-command. But even with the facade, she's certain that Lunaris can practically hear her thoughts, her doubts, especially since their little talk after Della's departure, and at any moment, he'll catch her for it.

The only respite she can find is in going back out to Della's rock whenever she can. "For target practice," she tells the others, yet she doesn't tell them exactly where. Better to let them think she's choosing random targets to keep her wits sharp, for the glory of the Moon, and all that.

At the very least, Lunaris seems to buy it, or he's too busy with his new regime to really care what she does with her free time. Whatever the case, she'll take it.

Very little concentration goes into her practice while she's out at the rocks.

Penumbra's been an expert in spear combat since her youth, so most of her tosses turn into a show of strength, both of her own and of her spear's repaired state. (At this point, she refuses to properly fix it, and thus lose Della's handiwork.) But more importantly, it keeps her hands busy so she can think, which is probably why she doesn't notice how Della's rock has turned from target to spectator, and how most of her throws tend to be in the direction of Tranquility.

In the solitude of the rocks, one clear truth comes to light.

She has to stop the invasion. She has to stop Lunaris.

She doesn't know how exactly, and with Lunaris having the upper hand in pretty much every regard, her work is certainly cut out for her. But she has to try, or at least warn Della, if she can.

Della.

Just three rotations ago, Penumbra would've been ready to wage war on the Earther herself, fueled by lies and a sense of her planet's superiority, all in the name of protecting her people.

But now...

Now she's just hoping that she can save both their worlds. That Della won't ever even have to know that everything she worked so hard to return to was almost lost again because of an error in judgment.

She hopes that at best, she can stop the invasion and use the new ships as Della still thinks they'll be used–for the Moonlanders to come visit Earth. For the chance for two old roommates to get together again.

But at least, she'll be able to destroy the ships and the plans, even if it means never seeing her friend again.

Now...

Now she's...seeing the Spear of Selene?

Penumbra rubs her eyes with one hand, the other grasping her spear as she stops in her tracks on her way back to her throwing area. Another glance up into the void of space and there's no doubting that flash of red tumbling down to the surface of the Moon. It makes impact a few seconds later, a cloud of lunar dust rising in its wake that can't be a good sign for whoever's on board.

She can't see the crash site from where she's at, but it's out towards what her people call the "islands" of the wastes, from what she can tell.

She's running towards it before she can stop herself, sparing a glance at her drawing of Della on the way. "Oh, Della, that better not be you," she tells the rock.

It can't be her, because if it was, Lunaris would take her prisoner, and use her to propel his cause further, to prove that she is an Earth spy with plans to invade the Moon.

But it must be her, because Penumbra could see the patches of gold used to repair the ship during its descent, and there's no way that another Earther could've already made it here in the Spear, for whatever reason. (She refuses to believe that this is beginning of the second wave of an invasion. There's no way Lunaris was telling the truth, not after what she'd seen and heard from him personally.)

Confusion and concern war with each other in Penumbra's mind as the ship finally starts coming into view. There's smoke and lingering dust and scorched gold.

This doesn't make sense.

Unless there was an actual malfunction (which Penumbra will never forgive herself for even falsely mentioning if it turns out to be the case), Della should be home with her family, meeting her three boys that she did all of this for, that she gushed about as her main reason for loving Earth. She wouldn't want to come back here, not like this and not so soon, unless...

Penumbra pushes forward ever faster, her spear at her side and conviction in her heart.

She has to reach Della first, before Lunaris or any other Moonlander finds her. Let them find the wreckage later and think what they will.

She has to keep Della safe, no matter her intentions, and together, they'll stop Lunaris.

At last, the entirety of the Spear of Selene and its crash site of a crater come into view, but what she sees next causes her to duck behind a nearby rock on the crater's rim.

She's too late. Lunaris and his guards have arrived, and they have indeed taken a prisoner.

But it's not Della, thank her lucky star.

Penumbra peeks out from her hiding spot, low to the ground, and tries to identify the newcomer. He has a white hat and black clothing, a far leap from the Earth garb she's seen so far, but his face seems familiar. When he finally speaks, and one of Della's descriptions of her family comes to mind, it hits her.

"Donald?"

#DuckTales #Penumbra #Della Duck #Donald Duck #Lunaris #a hint of #dellumbra #my fanfics

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hopelessly-me · 3 years ago

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Winterhawk in a haunted house

Hehehehe. Okay so- I didn't know what flavor of haunted house you wanted- like paranormal or jump scare. But I went with paranormal. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Winterhawk, rated T. Mostly silly and goofy but probably contains a swear word or twelve. 1868 words.

“Spooky spooky spooky,” Clint muttered as he climbed the stairs inside the old Victorian house, using his flashlight to check the floor below them, half expecting someone to be standing there ominously. Just the thought of it raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Clint,” Bucky said, half annoyed from the sounds of it. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Yeah, I used to not believe in aliens too,” Clint said as Bucky reached the top floor and looked either way before turning right. “And then I met gods and had an alien try to makeout with me, and then Venom did makeout with me.”

“Not sure those things correlate, doll,” Bucky said gently as he opened a door and peeked into a room. “Oh hey look, it’s you,” Bucky said brightly before he flashed a light into the room, illuminating a few dozen dolls. “You’re my doll, and these are some dead person’s dolls.” Clint glowered at Bucky, not amused. “Come on. Six hours and we can go.”

“I really don’t see why I have to be punished for you losing a bet with Sam,” Clint grumbled, leaving that room and hoping that was the only room with those porcelain abominations in it.

“Yeah, I thought that was implied in the whole ‘til death do us part’ part of our marriage contract,” Bucky replied, closing the door after Clint. “I have to deal with your stupid shit, so you are stuck doing my stupid shit. Forever.”

“Charming. Romantic even. Ten out of ten recommend,” Clint rambled on.

Everything about this house screams demon in the basement. The furniture was old and covered in fabric which was under inches of dust. The shades on the lamps were at least from the fifties, cobwebs in the shades and gleaming off the metallic bases, shimmering in the dim light. The floorboards creaked under even the slightest amount of pressure.

It was spooky and Clint hated spooky. It was right up there with magic, might even be tied for first place. He could handle fake haunted houses- he had done them when he was in the circus, learned how to pickpocket that way even. But places that were rumored to be haunted? Yeah- that’s where Clint threw in the towel.

“Spooky spooky spooky,” Clint whispered as he followed behind Bucky as they toured the house, Bucky holding a camcorder like the old man he was. But was Clint going to comment on it? No. Because that old man was the only thing between him and whatever creature from hell lived in the basement. If push came to shove, Clint was fairly certain he would sacrifice Bucky and take off running. That might result in a divorce but… Clint had been divorced before, right? He could handle being divorced.

“Clint.”

“Leave me alone,” Clint sang as he peered into a bathroom. Back in the day, Clint had a feeling this bathroom was glorious- the tub alone was so deep he was pretty sure he could properly soak in it. Now- it was lackluster at best. Clint closed the door and caught a glimpse of Bucky as he went to go back downstairs.

“Why do you believe in ghosts anyway?” Bucky asked as they walked into the kitchen. The kitchen from hell. The murder room. It looked like a murder room.

“Agnes from the circus,” Clint answered.

“She was a con.”

“Oh, she was definitely a con when it came to reading people, but she wasn’t a con when it came to a lot of other things,” Clint answered. “She’s the one who taught me not to whistle in the woods, and to leave weird things found in the woods alone.” Bucky reached to pick something up and Clint slapped his hand. “No.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Bucky said, turning around, camera coming closer to Clint. “Tell everyone how much fun you are having, sunshine.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I would rather drink bleach than stay in here overnight.”

“Clint.”

“I mean, yay, look at me, having so much fun,” Clint said in a monotone voice. Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just so we are clear, if Mothman climbs out of the basement, I am shoving you down the stairs and running for it.”

“You know what? If Mothman comes out from that basement, you don’t even have to push me,” Bucky said with far too much confidence for Clint’s taste. “I will gladly stand between you and a Lunar moth.” Bucky turned around and walked. “How about this? Why don’t we talk about something else to get your mind off of whatever Agnes traumatized you with.”

“Yeah, sure- let’s make that attempt,” Clint said.

“Since I am forced to do this as punishment… why don’t we gossip about the others?” Bucky asked. “Like… did you know Sam actually owns more Avengers merch than he admits to?”

“... he what?” Clint asked.

“Yep. I raided his apartment one day when he was gone because I was going to set up a prank and I looked in his closet. He has a Captain America teddy bear,” Bucky said.

“You’re lying.”

“Swear on my mother’s grave,” Bucky said. “He has Cap bear, and a Iron Man figurine.”

For what it was worth, Bucky was very good at distracting Clint from their situation. Clint was into the gossip, whether it was Bucky telling him things or Clint sharing what he knew, careful to skirt over anything about Natasha because he didn’t have a death wish. And when they weren’t gossiping, they were talking about needing to go for a grocery run and needing to buy new pet beds because Lucky had decided the beds were stuffed animals. Which then turned into needing to send Lucky to Kate and America’s for a bit so they could take a vacation. Clint wanted a beach vacation- any excuse to lay under the sun was his favorite thing. Bucky wanted to go tour historical sites, which Clint knew he would cave to because he liked seeing the wonder in Bucky’s eyes when he toured sites he had only heard about or seen on television. Scratch that- he was a sucker for anything that Bucky did. Since when did he become a sap?

They finally settled down and were sitting in the living room, both of them wordlessly agreeing that sitting on the furniture wasn’t an option so they cuddled up in a corner. Bucky had set up a lantern so they could see what was around them, and they used their sleeping bags under their legs to prop them up better. Clint reached over and held Bucky’s hand and fiddled with his wedding ring, smiling as it gleamed. Bucky took care of that ring like he did his arm. He was constantly cleaning it, checking to make sure it was perfect. Clint was currently on replacement ring number three- which averaged to one ring per year so he was taking that as a win.

The conversation fell and Clint snuggled up, resting his head against Bucky’s shoulder. He was exhausted, unable to sleep the night before. Clint went to close his eyes, maybe take a nap, and that’s when he heard it- a creak on the floor above them. He tightened his hold on Bucky’s hand and looked up.

“Its an old house,” Bucky reminded Clint. “And it’s windy out. Creaks are going to happen.”

Clint nodded and settled in again. Bucky was right- houses settled and creaks, and the wind was howling outside occasionally. But then the creak happened again before he heard what sounded like a boot step, followed by another step, and another. And they had toured that house, twice, top to bottom, minus the basement because Clint outright refused, and there was nowhere anyone could have hidden that they wouldn’t have seen. They were trained, for goodness sake- if there was a place to hide, they would have checked it.

The creaking ended at the top of the stairs and Clint and Bucky both leaned over to peer up the stairs. “Someone probably snuck in here and is trying to mess with us. Probably Natasha.”

“Probably my sleep paralysis demon catching up to me,” Clint muttered.

Bucky turned his head to look at Clint. “I understood that reference and I worry about you.” Bucky got up. “I’m going to go check.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I know you have watched horror movies. That never ends well,” Clint insisted.

“I love you but you need to start taking therapy seriously,” Bucky said, grabbing his flashlight and heading towards the stairs.

“As if you are one to talk. How many knives you got on you?” Clint retorted. “Not that you can stab a ghost to death.” Bucky waved him off and stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up, slowly moving his flashlight to get a better image. Clint half-assed crawled over a few places to take a peek for himself.

“Well, I don’t get to stab a ghost because there is no such thing as-” Bucky began to say before there was a noise from the kitchen. Bucky frowned and turned his flashlight. “... definitely Natasha. She uses windows.”

“Hey! Hey! You can’t just leave me here,” Clint said, scrambling to get us. “Again. Horror movies. Respect the horror movies.” Bucky just waved him off and disappeared into the kitchen. “... dammit.” Clint snatched his flashlight on his way to the kitchen to follow Bucky. “Listen, I know you think it’s dumb but I really think- Buck?”

Bucky was staring at the floor, his head tilted to the side. Clint walked over to him and looked at a knife that was on the floor. Clint’s eyes traveled from the knife over the cabinets, every single one of them open.

“You alright?” Clint asked.

“It… just came flying out,” Bucky said. He reached out and waved his hand around before he picked up the knife, using his flashlight to inspect it. “But there’s no string attached.” Clint leaned over Bucky and looked at the knife as well, frowning.

“Spooky.”

A noise caught their attention and they both looked over at the basement door. It sounded like someone coming up the stairs, heavy footsteps and creaking boards. Clint slowly started to stand up, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

But just as quickly as all the noises came, everything seemed to stop. Clint hadn’t realized he was gripping onto the back of Bucky’s shirt, slowly letting it go and smoothing it out. Bucky was starting to lose his tension, his muscles starting to relax it seemed.

“So… that was weird,” Bucky commented. “Should we go-”

“You will have to drag my corpse to that basement if you want me to go with you,” Clint said. “I want to go find a corner, I want to take my hearing aids out, and I want to sleep. Or try to sleep.”

Bucky turned and smiled, reaching a hand up to hold Clint’s face. “I promise that if I see Mothman or… whatever… I will wake you up and let you have the headstart.”

Clint smiled a little and leaned down and kissed him. “My hero,” he murmured against Bucky’s lips.

#winterhawk #spooky season prompts #a wild prompt appeared #thanks for the fun prompt!

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