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wh6res · 4 years ago

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chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person.

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve.

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun.

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings.

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll.

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections.

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to.

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail.

but you weren’t as lucky today.

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin.

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you.

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing.

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too.

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale.

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you.

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn.

she reminds you of yourself.

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck.

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan��never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job.

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again.

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you.

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine.

you look over your shoulder.

no one’s there.

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way.

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding.

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night.

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea.

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government.

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted.

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes.

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin.

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight.

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force.

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud.

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green.

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak.

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer.

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them.

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?”

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape.

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent.

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries?

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life.

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake.

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls.

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault.

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house.

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day.

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless.

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate.

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can.

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside.

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again.

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice.

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there.

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with.

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan.

you almost collapse against the brick wall.

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose.

until you saw who it was.

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday.

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try.

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma.

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down.

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times.

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left.

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes.

three times you’ve cheated death.

but time is up and your luck has run out.

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch.

naeun is nowhere to be seen.

good.

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare.

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience.

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it.

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket.

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances.

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper.

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you.

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder.

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you.

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings.

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you.

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke.

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone.

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath.

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase.

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium).

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin.

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them.

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory.

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball.

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @winwiniee @dundun-baby @nakamotocore @hcwurld @alaeddis @recs-for-later @jaehyunssslut

wanna be added to my taglist? click here!

‎

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

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naralanis · 4 years ago

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little bumps in the road (pt. 14)

Previously on LBitR...

Lena can’t remember ever running so fast in her life.

Her boots splash loudly on the wet pavement, and her lungs burn painfully as she sprints full-tilt down the street, heart hammering a frantic rhythm in her ribcage. She nearly skids as she turns the corner to where the RV is parked – looking exactly like she had left it, and her hands are clammy, trembling uncontrollably as she yanks the door open.

Her gasps for air seem to fill the empty space of the RV, and Lena thinks her heart will just beat right out of her chest at the sight of the empty cot. She can’t breathe, her head is swimming from the effort of running here like a madwoman, and her ribs hurt. She might just puke right here.

And she almost does, too, when she feels a heavy hand landing on her shoulder. Lena’s so wired, so afraid and panicked, she does the first thing she can think of—she twists on her heel to level the most violent punch she can throw at her attacker.

Her hand collides with concrete with a sickening crunch.

“Lena!”

Kara’s eyes are as wide as saucers, worried and understandably confused. Lena, for her part, can’t decide whether to be ecstatic or worried, so she settles on a strangely hysterical mix of both, cradling the hand that is undoubtedly broken to her chest.

“I see your powers are back,” she hisses through gritted teeth. The pain radiates from her knuckles, down her wrist, and all the way to her elbow, and she can already see her fingers are starting to swell.

“They’re not 100% yet, but I think some sun will do the trick,” Kara says, brows furrowed as she moves to cradle Lena’s hands between hers as gently as she possibly can. She narrows her eyes, looking over the rapidly purpling skin of Lena’s knuckles. “Definitely broken,” she mutters unhappily. “What were you thinking??”

“We need to get out of here,” Lena barks, pulling her hand away and rushing to one of the cabinets—Kara seems to pick up on what she’s scrambling for, and steps in to get gauze and other materials to fashion a splint.

“What happened?” she asks, delicately righting Lena’s hands and tenderly wrapping it up, tight and secure. “What’s got you so spooked?”

Lena groans in pain despite Kara’s care. “The man—the man I saw in Texas, he’s here—he’s definitely following us, and Alex” she yelps when Kara touches a particularly tender spot, “shit, it wasn’t Alex on the phone.”

Kara freezes, gauze dangling from her grip as she stops wrapping. When she speaks, her voice is tight, gripped by fear. “What did she—what did they say on the phone?”

Lena takes up the rest of the wrapping herself; Kara’s clearly too stunned to anything but gape in panic. “They said hello, this is Danvers.” She sighed. “She said that anything other than the two options…”

“Wouldn’t be her on the phone,” Kara completes. “OK, yeah, we—we gotta get out of here, we gotta…”

She keeps on mumbling as she rushes to the driver’s seat; Lena barely has the time to scramble after her, grabbing a bottle of painkillers from the first aid kit as Kara starts the vehicle and proceeds to speed out of the car-park, earning a honk or two as she cuts people off in her panic.

“Where do we go?” Lena asks as Kara swerves into the freeway. Her hand throbs painfully, but she manages to open the painkillers with her teeth, downing a handful.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Kara’s incredibly tense; the veins of her neck stand out, and her hands—Lena can see it clearly now—the grip she has on the steering wheel is beginning to dent the thing, and if it goes any further, she’ll mangle it with her fingers.

Lena reaches over with her good hand and rests it on Kara’s arm—the blonde is so startled by it they almost swerve into another lane, but within the next second, she calms down a little, as if just noticing the force of her grip on the wheel.

“We’ll figure it out, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, OK? Just—just give me a moment to think. We can… we can go South, maybe—the opposite of the route Alex had planned for us, maybe—”

Kara shakes her head vigorously, jaw clenched. “The only place we’re going is National City.”

“Kara—we can’t—”

“The hell we can’t!” Kara practically yelps. She looks anguished, gritting her teeth, with tears pooling at her lids. “Lex has my sister, Lena—I have to go back. I have to.”

“We don’t know if Lex knows you’re alive,” Lena starts, but the thought sounds ridiculous even to her own ears—Kara sends one look her way that plainly says are you kidding me. “OK, fine, he most definitely knows you’re alive, but that doesn’t mean we can just go rushing back to National City with no plan!”

“Well, do you have any ideas??” Kara shouts. Her voice is harsh, angry, and though Lena can’t blame her, it makes her flinch in her seat.

It takes Lena a few moments—a few breaths timed with the painful, dulled throbbing of her broken hand—to get her thoughts in order. “He must be tracking us, somehow,” she mutters, mostly to herself, though she can see Kara can hear her just fine—maybe her super-hearing has returned. “How are your powers?”

Kara sighs, deeply, looking a little guiltily at the deep grooves her fingers had carved onto the steering. “Super-strength is back; not all the way, but it’s here,” she says, then her gaze briefly locks onto Lena’s injured hand, cradled on her lap. “X-ray vision, too. I haven’t tried flight, but it feels like it’s back.”

Lena wants to ask how she can tell without testing, but trusts Kara’s knowledge of her own body—her curiosity can wait. “How about laser-vision? Freeze-breath?”

Kara shrugs, then concentrates for a moment, furrowing her brows. Her eyes begin to glow very faintly, and the visual is a little bizarre, like she has a an old, dying flashlight in her retinas. “Laser-vision is a no go,” she mutters, before puffing her cheeks for a moment and blowing a gust of air. There’s a faint mist of cold, but it evaporates quickly.

“I guess that answers your question,” she says unhappily. Lena closes her eyes, doing the math in her head—she had worked out earlier the maximum concentration of Kryptonite Kara’s blood could have and repel with only sunlight. Her head hurts too much for her to think very clearly, but she hopes to God they’ve reached it, or things will be much more complicated than they already are.

“OK, OK, so—so we have to—we have to think clearly, here. Let’s say your powers will come back with more sun exposure—”

“Then we have to get out of this cloudy place,” Kara interjects unhappily.

“—shut it, but yes—and we have to… We have to get rid of this RV.”

“What—why? How would we get around?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know—I guess you could fly—you said you think you might be able to, right?”

Kara looks skeptical, brows raised almost all the way to her hairline.

“I guess I could carry you, yes, but then…”

“No,” Lena interrupts, gritting her teeth. She’s almost certain she knows how they’ve been tracked—it’s a long shot, but she wouldn’t put anything past Lex at this point. It’s a lesson she feels like she’s learning way too late in life. “I said you could fly.”

Kara’s eyes narrow, and her lips tug downward into a deep frown. She slams her fist onto the hazard lights button—it leaves a dent on the dashboard—and abruptly stops in the shoulder of the freeway. Her breathing deeps, but it’s erratic, like she is trying and failing to keep it under control.

“Lena. What are you saying?”

Lena groans, closing her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at the expression in Kara’s face—she can already picture it in her mind; the outrage, the helplessness, the disappointment… But Lena is certain—she is absolutely certain it is the only chance they have of getting out of this mess alive. At least one of them.

“I’m saying we have to split up.”

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

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pallasperilous · 4 years ago

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Boneless Wings

{AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares.

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now.

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it.

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1. Bird mites. Holy shit.

2. Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

3. Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube.

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose.

4. The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is.

5. When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

6. Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

7. After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning.

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can.

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit.

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8. No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.”

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry.

9. Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

10. Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

11. You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice.

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex.

12a. One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV.

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

12b. The less said about angel molt, the better.

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit.

13. There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings.

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

14. Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas.

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

15. Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement.

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

16. So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon.

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously).

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off.

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17. For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration.

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening.

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack.

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel.

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy.

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato.

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually.

18. There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything.

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

19. Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership.

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns.

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

20. Seriously though, the bird mites.

Gross.

#deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #wingfic #or maybe...#wingsquick #spn fanfic #spn fanart #spn crack #sorry everybody #now with pictures!#pallasperilous art #pallasperilous fic #pallasperilous crack

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afaimsarrowverse · 4 years ago

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The 14 Creepiest Arrowverse Villains:

Yes, this one should have been made for Halloween. But after the year we just had, let’s take comfort in the fact that were are not forced to ever meet this guys here on the street in the dark. While two of the villains on this list had rather big seasonal arcs, I specifically disqualified characters from here, have proper motivations and character arcs as well as villains, who are creepy but at the same time quite a lot of fun. This why you won’t find Alice, her Mouse, Ramsay, Eobard, the Trickster, Mallus, Neron or even the Thinker here.

This list mainly consists of people we want to put back in the box, they got out of, until not seeing them at least for a season or so, and who we want to yell at: „What’s wrong with you!“ while they are on screen.

14. Toyman Senior (Winslow Schott Sr., Supergirl, Henry Czerny)

Technically this one should not be on this list, because he was redeemed in Season 5, however that happend after his death and on Earth Prime rather than Supergirls Original Eart,h so we will ignore that for now (also I wrecked my head whom from „Supergirl“ to put on here, so I overlooked that on purpose). Toyman is more creepy as a concept than in reality. He blows up kids (and other than the Trickster is no fun at all while he is doing it), threatened the life of his son to get his wife to leave him and did God knows what else to said wife and son. And did not even stop terrorizing people after his death. Can you imagine growing up as Toyman’s son? Poor Winn, you truly deserved better!

13. Bug Eyed Bandit (Brie Larvan, Queen Bee, The Flash, Arrow, Emily Kinney)

Yes, it’s because of the Bees. Because she controls Mechanical Bees that sting and kill people! I am sorry, but what’s your problem, can’t you just kill your enemies like a normal person, Brie? Not to mention the whole Felicity-thing, because yes it’s totally normal to go around and kidnap and threaten to get what you want and then try to murder again. I still do not get why they let her into the Young Rogues anyway, but then … most members of that gang were all wrong, weren’t they?

12. Garfield Lynns (Arrow, Andrew Dunbar)

Most of us have tried to forget about Season 1 Episode „Burned“ for several reasons. But the villain of it is also one of those. Because, yes Mick was a Pyromanic as well, but for more complex reasons. Garfield Lynns was a fire fighter who started burning people and ended burning himself to death because of reasons and … well let’s be honest, he was nuts and burning people is not cool at all!

11. Jake Simmons (Deathbolt, Arrow, The Flash, Doug Jones)

That’s what you get, if you hire a creature actor (no offense, Doug, we love your work!) to play a psychopatic villain. Occasionally kind of fun, yes, but mostly Simmons is crazy and creepy, and we never liked him very much, but crucial Captain Cold killed him with a flimsey excuse, which no one ever bought, and let’s put it that way: If Leonard killed him just like that, there had to be something wrong with him in a big way, and yes, the hints were there, so, yeah, what a creep.

10. The Mist (Kyle Nimbus, The Flash, Antony Carrigan)

A former Mob Hitman that looks like that and can turn into Mist. Do I have to say any more? I would take Victor Szasz over this one any day. Because Nimbus … well you would not want to meet him during a misty night, would you?

9. Murmur (Michael Amar, Arrow, Adrian Glynn McMorran)

This one actually cares about his grandma, I will give him that, but SOMEONE SEWED HIS FUCKING LIPS TOGETHER! So you don’t really like looking at him, and he kind of went over board after he was pressured into joining Damien Darhk with, you know, killing everyone and joining HIVE, who as you recall planned to end the world as wen know it, so what about everyone elses grandmas, they can just die or what? No, Mister Amar, there is quite a lot wrong with you, that’s for sure.

8. Everyman (Hannibal Bates, The Flash, Various)

That one could be a tragedy, but well, he got so mixed up and wrong in the head, that he became a danger to everyone else. He is creepy trapped between shapes and he is creepy in other shapes because … you don’t just go around and kiss random women, who think you are somebody else. That is just wrong. But Bates is kind of mostly wrong, so, yeah.

7. Anthony Ivo (Arrow, Dylan Neal)

Ivo is Sara’s Personal Case of #Metoo, which really should be enough to earn him a spot on this list, but there is also his habit of keeping people in cages and the whole „You have to choose, whom I shoot dead!“- thing and all of that is only the tip of the iceberg. Not even Dylan Neal can stop me from wanting to scream at the top of my lungs: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! at Dr. Ivo.

6. Nocturna (Natalia Knight, Batwoman, Kayla Ewell)

We all know the story how Nocturna was not allowed to show up in the Animated Batman Series in the 90s, because she was considered too disturbing (Morbius on the other hand was allowed to show up in the Spider-Man Cartoon but had to … undergo some changes, which made a perfectly good vampire into the creepies cartoon-villain ever unleashed on kids and scarred me for life, but that’s another story). Here she finally is, and yes, she is rather disturbing. Because she acutally knows very well that she isn’t a vampire, but still strings her victims up and bleeds them out, after biting them with laced spikey teeth. It would be kinky, if it were the least bit sexy, which it totally isn’t, so yeah, put her away for good please.

5. Vandal Savages Hawk Creatures (Legends of Tomorrow, Various)

Season 1 of „Legends“ was quite different than what came after, but „Night of the Hawk“ was an early highlight. While it was kind of a parody, being Season 1 it still played it straight for the most part, which resulted in an episode with the vibe of „American Horror Story“: We are in on the joke, but it’s still Horror. No wonder, after all Joe Dante directed this one. Vandal Savage turned poor teenagers into hawklike monsters, that no one would want to meet … ever. So yeah, thanks, but no thanks.

4. August Cartwright (Ethan Campell, Batwoman, John Emmet Tracy, Sebastian Roche)

Oh, God, that guy. So his mother wasn’t particulary ... nice, but that is no excuse to kidnap, gaslight, and brainwash a young girl, keep that girl’s mother’s head in a fridge for years, turn said girl into a slave and get her to make facemasks out of actual human face! Nor is that any excuse for fear-gasing your own son just because you are mad at him. Or anything in any way related to face-stealing, ,killing, identitiy theft, or anything else Dr. Cartwright has ever been up to. Like, seriously it has been a long time a character that desevers to be hated that much has been on our televions screens. Creepy Creep!

3. Duela Dent (Batwoman, Alessandra Torresani)

Female Slashers have become kind of a common trope in fiction by now, but Duela is kind of different. Suffering from a pretty extreme version of of body dysmorphic disorder Duela sees beauty through a different lense than the rest of the world (we will never forget what she deems to be her face being perfect, even though we desperatly want to). So yeah, she slashes faces, mainly her own, is out to punish people, who force beauty ideals on her and othes, and somehow has no problem with … donating her face to Alice. … Can someone please get that poor woman help, I mean, seriously?!

2. Rag Doll (Peter Merkel, The Flash, Troy James, Phil LaMarr)

He did make Joe West throw up. And not only him. Rag Doll is plains disgusting. So disgusting actually, that the producers dialed him back in Season 6 and used more CG and less pratical „Troy James freaks us out“- bending. But while he could be fun all elongaty, we actually prefer him as his creepy original Season 5 Self. He is demented, wears a creepy mask, acts creepy, and we really don’t want to see him do his stuff but can’t look away at the same time. I have no idea why he was in the Young Rogues either, because he is really mainly creepy – und would be the Overcreep on this list, if it weren’t for….

1. The Dollmaker (Barton Mathis, The Broken Doll Killer, Arrow, Michael Eklund)

I am still amazed to this day that they were allowed to make this episode. You have to remember „Arrow“ had been only on for one Season at this point and „The 100“ was still about to premier. The CW was yet to change it’s image. Still they somehow got to made the Dollmaker-Episode, which left us disturbed to this very day. What Mathis was doing to his victims …. Well not only Quentin got nightmares about it. Poor Laurel went understandable full addict after almost being made into a puppet by him. So, Rag Doll might look creepier, but the Dollmaker is one of this Serial Killers we never want to even hear from again. It’s really no wonder he was an one-off, like I said, I am still amazed they were even allowed to make the episode on Network Television let alone The CW at all.

#Arrowverse #Creepiest Villains #Arrow #The Flash #Supergirl #legends of tomorrow #Batwoman

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dorevenge · 3 years ago

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where ignorance is bliss - chapter 4: except the willow

SUMMARY: Maria is forcefully escorted from the betting room, when she encounters the owner of the casino himself. [AO3 LINK]

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

November 20, 1959 – Monaco, France, The Hellfire Club

I’ve never thought about my what last words would be. I had always assumed I would be 98, having aged better than brie, lying in bed surrounded by my family, my curls perfectly falling around my face, with a pristine pale pink lipstick and pearls on my neck and diamonds on my ears. I’d have outlived my husband, as I’ve always flocked towards older men, but I would see him reflected in my great-grandchildren, one of whom would have shared my philanthropic interests. I’d leave them all with some well-planned poetry, a single sentence that would change every one of their lives, resound in them and inspire them to change their actions for the better, but, as of now, due to my arrogant foolishness, my last words were to be “I’d rather stay here and keep losing.” And no one would remember them.

Thick arms wrap around mine, hiking me up by the armpits, and I am escorted out of the casino and through the hotel lobby, my high heels scrambling to make purchase on the ground below me. The few people scattered in the lobby pause to look at me, and then keep walking. The fun from the baccarat game has dwindled, the rosiness falling from my cheeks and panic settling in my chest. I couldn’t pull against them; there’s no way I could win in a fight even with some of Peggy’s training. I should have taken her up on her thigh holster offer.

The men stop briefly at the front desk. “What room is Ms. Carbonell staying in?”

“Obadiah won’t let you get away with this,” I grit, my arms pinned behind my back.

“Mr. Stane is currently preoccupied.” One of the men asks for a spare key, and the desk attendant fumbles in the cabinet to find the correct one.

A man in glasses walks past, tall but not intimidating, broad-shouldered but not bulky, nose buried in a pile of papers in his hands, and glances up, pausing to evaluate the scene. Our eyes make contact, and it takes him a second to evaluate my panic.

“Do you need any help, madam?”

“She’s fine,” one of the suited men replies. I’m too startled to scream, or speak, or even think at all. All I can hope is that someone in the lobby reads my face and intervenes. Grumbling, they forgo the key, and pull me out of the hotel lobby towards the parking lot.

This is how I’m going to die, I think, reminiscing what a waste finishing school was since I never learned to hold my tongue anyway, and it is my penchant for petty remarks sending me to an early grave. I can’t keep up with their pace, my high heels catching in almost every dent in the asphalt, and I almost lose my balance several times.

We approach a long, sleek black car with darkened windows, and I finally start calling out, “Obie! Obadiah!” to the empty parking lot, writhing against the arms around me.

“Ms. Carbonell! I think you dropped an earring.” The voice comes from behind. It’s the man in glasses, walking swiftly, with authority, except for the little cowlick of dark black hair on the right side of his head, twirling in the breeze as he stalks forward.

The men holding me turn to confront him as he takes off his glasses and slides them into his breast pocket. The men’s postures drop and their faces fall. Their grip on me lessens. He runs a hand through his hair and stares them down.

“Mr. Stark.”

“Release Ms. Carbonell at once.”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Stark, she-”

“You do know what at once means, don’t you, boys?”

They release me.

“I cannot apologize enough, Ms. Carbonell, for the behavior of these men. If they offend you again, I will personally write to their employers.” He looks at each one of them sternly, in turn.

One of the men stiffens defiantly. “We didn’t recognize you, Mr. Stark. In the betting room-”

“When you are the one who owns the casino, only then should you be concerned about its finances.” Stark’s stern face softens when he turns to me, offering me his elbow. He nods at each man with authority, and they shrink away. My heart is still racing, and I still must not be thinking straight, because I loop my arm through his, my life in the hands of yet another stranger.

The dinner at one of the restaurants inside Hellfire is delectable, but dining with the owner probably helps. There were too many options on the menu that I eventually pointing to something at random and ordered that. I had very little to say, besides non merci to the waiters who kept offering us champagne and thanking Mr. Stark for his kindness. The anxiety has set into my bones and I can’t help but fidget.

“I already told you, Maria, just call me Howard.” Up close, I can see that he’s older, probably in his forties. Creases line his eyes and mouth, probably from charming the pants off too many investors, and the investors’ wives.

“Okay, Howard, does wearing glasses actually work? To go unnoticed.” I peer at him over the top of my waterglass.

“It does. Works wonders. I had read about it in a comic and wanted to give it a try. People act different when their boss is lurking around the corner, and sometimes I just want to be a guest in my own hotel.”

A waitress clears Howard’s empty plate, leaving my full one, and she brings the dessert menu to him. Without looking at it, he hands it back to her, ordering two beignets. She asks if we need anything else, chest puffed high and smiling bright, and Howard responds in near-perfect French without looking away from me. The waiter walks away, dejected, her hopes of charming the billionaire dashed.

I pick at the dish, too rich for my current anxious appetite. My anxiety hadn’t run out of fuel yet. “What’s eating you, doll?”

“Why were those men watching me? And where were they going to take me? I wasn’t cheating.”

“I know you weren’t cheating.”

“You know? How?”

“There are cameras everywhere in the game rooms, tiny ones in lamps and plants and around every corner. They can tell when someone is cheating, and your moves seemed very intentional. And putting money in my pocket isn’t exactly cheating.” I don’t ask how the cameras would be able to tell, as I’ve been to two of his expos now and haven’t understood any of the gadgets presented. Any explanation would just go over my head. I wonder how many cameras litter the restaurant.

He doesn’t answer my question and instead asks one of his own. “Why were you spending your partner’s money like that?”

My partner. That’s right, I am technically in business with Obadiah; we’ve kept our short engagement to ourselves, and he’s always introduced me as his accountant. I slide my hands into my lap to hide the ring on my finger, and slide the ring off once it’s out of view. “My answer to your question might be the same as your answer to mine.”

Howard’s face lights up, and he leans forward on the table to get a better look at me. “So you’re clever, too, and not just pretty.” He doesn’t ask it like a question, but a statement, and I try with all my might not to blush like a child. The waitress returns and clears our plates, bringing the dessert he ordered. Howard leans back with a sigh. “I’ve kept my eye on Stane for the last few years. Not a bad man, but not a great one. Desperate. I was desperate, too, for a while, ‘til I realized the only thing that gets you anywhere is hard work. That’s how America does it.”

“He says while dining in France.”

“Hey, I paid for the meal in America dollars, doll.” His smile is wide, and honest, and youthful and endearing and… and it belongs to Howard Stark, notorious womanizer. Still, I find myself smiling in return, chin propped up in my hand, gazing at him. I can’t get caught up in his displays of wealth, but his confidence is something else. Obadiah isn’t confident like Howard. Howard has confidence to spare. He could bottle it and sell it, and convince everyone he met to buy it, that’s how confident he is. “How long are you in Monaco?”

“I leave November 22nd. Obadiah has had long meetings every day.”

“And because he leaves you alone in your room, you squander his earnings at the betting table in retaliation?” I look up at him, in surprise and defense, and he chuckles to himself. “If I were him, I’d bring you to every meeting with me. You belong in the business room. What do you do at Stane International?”

“I keep the books. Accounting. I went to Columbia.” I want to impress him.

“And what do you do when you’re not working?”

“I work a lot with charities.”

“When you’re not working.”

“I suppose I dine with handsome strangers in foreign hotels.”

Howard takes one bite of the dessert delivered, then wipes his hands and rises to his feet. “Let’s go have some fun, Maria.”

“You’re only here for one more full day, is that right?” Howard asks me from the rooftop of the Hellfire Club. “Spend it with me. Obadiah won’t mind.”

He’s right; Obie wouldn’t even notice, and I don’t feel guilty for accepting. “What do you have in mind?”

We sit up there for hours, talking until sunset, the wind licking at his hair, teasing it from the gel. The soft colors of dusk make Howard look younger. I want to kiss him, I realize, and I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone before. At least, not like this. I push the feeling down deep. Every woman wants to kiss Howard Stark, with his deep brown eyes and his even deeper pockets. And if he wants to kiss me, he’ll have to work for it.

As if reading my mind, he whispers, “God, Maria, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’d give it all up just to kiss you.”

“Does that line usually work?” I turn away. I feel like a child in his gaze, naïve and eager.

“I don’t know. I’ve never used it before.” I don’t look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. I fix my gaze hard on the horizon in front of me. After a moment, “Actually, I take it back. I don’t want to kiss you until I’ve earned it. I want to do right by you, Maria. I’ll become an honest man for you.”

I want to believe him, but I also believe the stories. I don’t know what makes me so special in Howard’s eyes, but I feel more seen with him than I ever did with Obadiah, and it’s the last sign I need to leave him.

#where ignorance is bliss #wiib reading #marvel #iron man #howard stark #canary writes a fanfiction

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sarahsmiles1991 · 4 years ago

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Xena Sharptooth - Critical Role Fanfiction

Summary: Though she was banished by the clan, Lady Kima asks her to join on her quest to Kraghammer to go into the depth below to stop a great evil within. Reluctant to go but agrees, Xena Sharptooth joins her; what dangers awaits her down there and who the hell are these clowns?!

Character Info Sheet

Name: Xena Sharptooth 30 ft Walking AC: 19

Class: Paladin lv. 9 Oath of Vengeance God: Bahamut

Race: Half-Orc Background: Urchin HP: 94

Armour: Mithril Breastplate Weapons: Animated Shield

Brooch of Shielding Flame Tongue Short-sword

Holy Symbol of Bahamut Platinum

Dragon attached by leather string and

hangs from her neck under her armour

Abilities

Strength: 20 (5+)

Dexterity: 16 (6+)

Constitution: 18 (4+)

Intelligence: 15 (2+)

Wisdom: 15 (2+)

Charisma: 16 (3+)

Saving Throws

Strength +8

Dexterity +6

Constitution +7

Intelligence +5

Wisdom (P) +9

Charisma (P) +10

Introduction/Background

Xena Sharptooth has lived as an urchin most of her life and being abandoned by her own mother she took to the street and stole food from the markets and earn gold by singing. However her luck rang out when the fruit seller caught and prepared to chop her hands off as punishment, but then an old Paladin by the name of Sir Alistair Brightworth, servant to Bahamut stopped this a says that he will take this half orc and make something out of her. With little to no choice but to go with the old paladin he takes her to the monastery and begins her training. As she grew she became a strong and skilful with a shield and sword and was given the test to become one of the generals.

Unfortunately, being a half orc the some of paladins and clerics were terrified, disgust and jealousy that such a creature would become one of the leaders. Before she could even start the test the head of the monastery struck a trial of scandal and murder on her; to her horror and sadness no one, not even her brothers and sisters in training took a stand with her and she was banished from the one place she thought was her true home. Now older and bitter Xena took to the mountains, killing bandits and evil creatures to take her mind off her anger and ignore the voice of a being who asks for forgiveness and redemption.

In town for a drink and supplies Xena comes across an old companion of hers, Lady Kima who she trained with. She pleads to Xena to come with her to Kraghammer to find a great evil that could be hidden within it’s depths; with great hesitation and a migraine from the voice in her head she agrees and goes with her to find this darkness and hopes that not only she makes it out alive but to have the voice stop talking to her.

Prologue

Xena Sharptooth was having a good day!

Not only did she get rid of the rest of the bandits that have been terrorizing a village but also found a bag of holding! How the bloody hell the leader came by such a thing is beyond her but she didn’t question it cause she can only imagine the vibrating purrs in her head would do.

Oh yes, ever since her banishment from the Paladins of Bahamut the Platinum Dragon, the stupid lizard has not let her forget that they have not forsaken her. No matter how much she tries to ignore them they seem to insist on sticking around, it didn’t really help that she was helping villages and other unpopular areas with their troubles for only a few things like food and sleep. Hell in a few minutes she is about to head out to farmers home and help them harvest their goods in exchange for a sack of vegetables, can’t exactly tell a god to fuck off when you are doing good deeds left and right.

Oddly though, as they tore her holy symbol from her armor they allowed her to keep it along with her weapons.

“The Platinum Dragon gave you those tools, though you have used them for your own gain than for others they are still yours.” one of the head ass-holes had explained as they dragged her out.

Scoffing at the whole situation, she puts the last of the goods in her new bag of holding, she puts the strap over her shoulder and makes her way to the village.

The breastplate, though showed it has seen many battles with scuff marks and a few dents here and there one could tell it was kept after Xena thanked the heavens that it was made out of mithril one of the sturdier metals in the world.

Xena hums, as she walks through the animal, made trail, feeling pretty good besides the few scars added to her body; particularly the one at her cheekbone almost making her lose her eye were it not for turning her head the last second.

There’s a spark inside us

that we can all ignite

and all that’s dark inside us

will flicker into light

Like any warrior who has been in battle; scars and wounds were merely accessories and reminders that they have survived her learned in a library that Orcs regard battle scars as tokens of pride and ornamental scars as things of beauty. Her light green colored skin showed all her scars with no help and also being like a beacon if any sort of light took a shine to her and as if she wasn’t so horrific to humans, the orcs gave pause at her green flesh while they had their grey pigmentation before charging at her to attack.

Of all the healers and friendly scholars she would come across none of them could explain what was going on with her skin, she can only assume it had something to do with her parents or a mutation.

There’s a power in every breath

there’s a power in every note

a power that starts within the heart

a power that rises through the throat

Her tusks though not prominent still like to remind people of her background when she grinned in amusement or gave a sneer at a threat. She was of course teased for her features and there had been times where she wanted nothing more than to file her tusks, they did help her in a pinch when she had to bite an offender who thought covering her mouth was a good idea, she still chuckles at that memory. Her wild black hair still a mess after one of the bandits cut the string holding it up, got a stab in the foot for that, cascaded down her shoulders and to the middle of her back. Normally she would either has it in a ponytail or a plait to keep it out of her face, never once considering getting it cut.

And when it sails up through the air

more beautiful than any prayer

this power can right all wrong

and it will always thrill the ear

of those who have the power to hear

the magic of a song

Now it was her eyes that gave her confounded her; wolf eyes some called them with the yellow glare piercing one's soul if you got close enough to her. No other orc or even half-orcs had the eyes she had, maybe it was the gods' idea of a joke since her skin already make her freak why not throw in wolf eyes, she could feel the lizard admonish her, it gave the locals the idea to nickname her Einn ulfur, Lone Wolf.

There’s a strength inside us

that tells us wrong from right

becomes a song inside us

to chase away the night

By the end of her singing, she made it to the village, it was still midday so there not a lot of people about what harvest time being near and going about their own life. Xena frequent the village a lot so no one really balked at the half-orc heading straight for their elders with a slight smirk on her face. The elders consisted of three female halflings; Shaena Underbough, Portia Tosscobble, and last and certainly not the least Lavina Goodbarrel. Lavina is the eldest of the three and was the first to welcome Xena into the village with open arms, even offering her a place to stay in her home after her banishment from Paladins.

“Ah! And there she is!” Elder Lavina crowed. “Merle! You owe me a pint!”

Merle, husband to Lavina chuckles. “Aye I never should wager against Ulfer, especially against you love.”

“The bandits are no more.” Xena reports, placing the bag of holding to the ground and pulling out all the goods and other useful things for the elders and village to use. “They will not be bothering you a moment longer and I have found some trinkets and the like for you all.”

Lavina raises an eyebrow at the goods. “For bandits going after a small village as ours makes one wonder why they even bother with all this shit.”

“Them swords will be of help for certain.” Shaena says, watching the pile of weapons grow. “Heaven knows our people need them when you go off into the world again, I must say again how much we appreciate your help luv.”

“Mmm.” Portia mumbles, placing her pipe next to her knitting project before getting up and going to inspect the goods. “Plus Jeorge will getting more than enough supplies for the winter with these, did you find your own trinkets to take?”

Xena presents the bag of holding to them with a smirk. “The leader somehow got his hands on this, it is enough for me to-”

“The pretty bag is not enough of a reward for what you have done Ulfer!” Portia interrupts, frowning up at her. “Shaena may just let you do that but I and many others will draw the line if we must! I am sure there is enough gold for you to take.”

With that along with a sound of offense from the other lady, Shaena picks up a rather large sack of what is clearly gold and places it in a bemused Xena’s hand. Shaena though the youngest is the much stricter of the three and much more wary of strangers; when Xena first arrived in the village after months on her own after banishment Shaena was very hesitant to lend a hand to the creature that limped it’s way to their little village with nothing but armor and weapons on her person asking for a simple cup of milk in exchange to help any way she can. Lavina swooped onto Xena before the other two could say anything and the next thing they knew they had a mean green fighting being who protected the village and provided help to others.

“Jeorge will be heading for the city early in the morning, best get cleaned and well-rested for the trip.” Lavina informs Xena, picking up what looks like a bottle of fancy wine.

Xena smiles at the ladies, giving them a nod before heading for Lavina’s townhouse to do just that. Many of the halflings who live in the village greet her as she passes by, along with thanks as she left.

The next morning as she ate the last of her second breakfast Xena Sharptooth was ready for the road along with Jeorge. It took nearly a day to reach the city and Xena slips a gold to Jeorge in thanks as she leaves to the nearest tavern for a late dinner and sees if there were any jobs for her to do.

The Hanging Man was a dwarf-owned tavern so the place looks more made of stone than wood but with how many brawls and fights started one was pretty smart to not have many things made of wood. A large fire pit where many types of meat were being cooked in the middle of the tavern sizzled through the air and made Xena’s mouth water as she could taste that goat leg she had been eyeing as she entered.

One of her favorite meats in the world before her and the bag of holding? Maybe the old lizard was onto something.

“Hello!” a bright-eyed elf wench greets from over the booth with a smile. “Welcome to the Hanging Man! My name is Amelia how may I help you?”

“Leg of goat and a pint of ale.” Xena orders, taking a seat.

“You mean lamb?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Xena gave it back. “No I mean that goat leg you have in the fire pit.”

Amelia looks over to the fire pit before shaking her head. “I am sorry but that is for a customer-”

“Actually it is for her.” a soft familiar voice beside from beside her. “Please get it for.”

Xena’s whole body freezes at the voice. Are you fucking kidding you lizard!

A light purr was her reply.

“Three years away and I still know one of your weaknesses, Xena. Never understood your taste in goat than a lamb but to each their own.”

From the corner of her eye she watched as the halfling woman climbs onto the stool beside her, her dirty blond hair tightly braided, complexion darker than the usual halfling with a big scar across the side of her face along with other, smaller scars and of course wearing armor representing gold, silver, and blue of Bahamut.

“Oh like your weakness isn’t teriyaki chicken wings?” Xena mutters, tapping the booth waiting for her drink.

“Oooh don’t remind me, I haven’t had those in months!” the Halfling woman laughs.

Thankfully Xena didn’t have to wait long as her pint arrived along with the goat leg... though it looks magnificent and just asking to be devoured.

“What brings you here Lady Kima?” she asks, sipping her ale. “Don’t you and those dumb-asses have to keep Emon protected since you failed that last time around, also well done on that.”

“What? Can I not wonder about my vacation?” Lady Kima asks with a small smirk completely ignoring Xena’s comment.

“Not when you have Lady Allura waiting for you at home.” Xena was quick to reply.

Lady Kima’s dark complexion became darker as she clears her throat looking around nervously. “She is busy with her own things and I am not here to talk about such things. I am here for you though.”

“Oh? What happened? Is there something else they wanted to accuse me of?” She asks rolling her eyes. “Did I throw Timmy down the well?”

“No Xena this doesn’t have anything to do with the order and more of a personnel matter.” Lady Kima sighs. “I was given a vision... a dark one.”

Xena turns her head to Lady Kima, showing that she was paying attention. It wasn’t really all surprising that paladins got visions or messages from Bahamut it was just rare when they do give it so when one says they got a vision, you listen.

“I saw darkness taking root beneath Kraghammer, the dwarven city northeast of Emon in the Cliffkeep Mountains. I have been hiring a couple of mercenaries to accompany me into the mines and into the Underdark, and I want you to join me.” Just as she finished the sentence Xena choked back her drink.

Coughing a bit, wiping her mouth with her arm Xena looks over at Lady Kima in shock. “Okay first off you owe another ale, second of all wherein all your vision did it say ‘It’s dangerous to go alone, bring the half-orc that your order banished years ago!’ like seriously Kima.”

“Xena, the Order has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with my visions and they certainly have nothing to say about who I bring with me. Besides, in my vision; within the darkness, I saw a figure of a wolf within it, guiding me through the caves of the deep.”

There was a silence between the two.

“And the last murmurs I have heard here and in neighboring villages, that there is a half-orc wondering the area, helping the less fortunate, caring for those in need with the strength of ten men and eyes like a wolf, they call her Einn Ulfer... Lone Wolf, Now I wonder would such a person does not help her old mentor in her quest to suppress the darkness from taking hold in this world?” Lady Kima asks, gently placing it beside Xena’s hand.

Xena looks down at the object, taking a deep breath as she stares at her the most precious thing that was taken away from her, her holy symbol. The lizard her head purrs comfortingly, encouraging her to do what is right and help her Lady Kima.

Reaching over she picks up the symbol, grasping tightly to it as she feels the vibrating purrs in her head transfer slowly from her head down her body and into the item in her hand.

Xena sighs. “So, Kraghammer huh?”

Lady Kima smiles.

#critical role #vox machina #fanfiction #oc x canon

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nightskyhoseok · 5 years ago

Text

Éternel: Wings of Fire [BTS Dragon!AU]

Pairings: BTS x OC Genre: Fantasy, Angst, Drama Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, lowkey hate it but lowkey proud of it at the same time???

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CHAPTER ONE: THE WAY IT HAS TO BE

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Word Count: 8.9K

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As my eyes slowly peeled open, I began to feel the warmth of the sun's rays falling onto my skin. My sight had quickly adjusted to focus on the brightness of the pastel sunset plastered across the sky, thin clouds trailing along the soft hue above. I groaned and diverted my gaze, moving my head to the side to avoid the sunlight only to feel the blades of grass tickling the skin on my cheeks. My head turned for itself and I saw two people lying just a couple feet away from me. I propped myself up on my elbows only to fall back onto the ground again due to the sharp pain shooting through my shoulder and back.

Standing up slowly, I observed my surroundings to see a total of seven familiar people lying scattered around the area. Seven very familiar people. Ignoring the pain rushing through my body, I cursed under my breath and rushed over to the person closest to me.

“Jin? Jin!” I gasped, dropping down to Seokjin’s limp body, vigorously shaking him. “Come on, come on.” Only a few seconds passed when he suddenly jolted up, his breath heavy and scattered. With a soft sigh I dropped my chin to my chest in relief, thanking the heavens that he was alive.

“Maya? What… what happened?” Seokjin questioned after finally catching his breath.

“I don't kn-” I quickly cut myself off with a soft gasp as I recognized the environment around us, a huge castle standing strongly before us, the aura surrounding me all too familiar. “Oh my gods.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” I looked around to see six of my other friends lying in the grass, limbs sprawled and bodies appearing lifeless. “Help me wake them up.”

Seokjin nodded and stood up, rushing over to Jungkook to tap his cheek a couple of times, causing him to abruptly jerk awake. I moved over to Namjoon who was lying on his side. I checked for his heartbeat, and once I made sure he was actually alive and breathing, I lightly shook him. His eyes shot open and he sat up, moaning as he held his head. "Maya, what's going on?" Namjoon inquired. "Where are we?" "Shh, don't stress about that now. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked. He responded with a low grunt as he clutched his side, but he declined my help and gently pushed my hand away when I attempted to look at whatever he was hiding.

"I'm fine," He said as his breathing began to regulate. "Okay. I need you to wake Hoseok up." "He's with us too?" "All eight of us are together. Now, please, go help him. I'll get Yoongi." He nodded and stood up quickly, jogging over to Hoseok, who was already awake, but obviously freaking out. I crawled over to Yoongi and hurriedly shook his body, but he didn't react in the slightest. I tried everything in my power to wake him up, but he laid still and motionless, barely breathing.

“Shit, you're bleeding,” I heard Namjoon curse.

“He's not waking up,” I said, desperation filling my voice. I clutched onto Yoongi’s shirt as tears spilled down my face, landing on the soft skin of his arm. His eyes suddenly shot open and he sat up, his hand reaching up to the back of my neck with his nails creating crescent shaped dents in my skin.

“Maya- agh!” He winced as he grabbed his thigh and pulled it close to his chest, and that's when the rest of us realized he was bleeding heavily. I gasped and pulled his leg out to attempt to stop the bleeding, but he resisted due to the pain.

“Yoongi, stop moving!” I practically yelled, and that's when everything went silent - until a loud roar erupted from the distance, following thumps as whatever was causing the noise neared closer to us. The boys completely froze, but being the only one knowing what to expect, I gently let go of Yoongi and arose to my feet, walking forward to the cluster of trees leading into a forest of which the noise was coming from.

“What are you doing?!” Jimin shouted as he began to run towards me, but he stopped dead in his tracks once the source of the noise emerged from the forest.

A dragon.

Thick, black scales covered its body. Its jade eyes pierced into our souls, as if it were trying to evaluate us one by one. It was quite intimidating to say the least, but as soon as it saw me, it purred and happily ran over to me, nudging its head against my body.

“Hey. It's okay, bud. I'm okay,” I whispered, softly running my fingers across the dragon’s rough, dark scales. Of course, I was extremely happy to see my dragon again, but at this point, I knew there was no hiding from the boys anymore. I turned around to face them, but they were surprisingly calm - even Yoongi, despite his heavily bleeding leg. They were all in too much shock to notice anything else happening around them, including one of my servants running through the gates beside us, gasping at my injury once she was close enough to see the extremity of it.

“Mistress! Come, This One must get you cleaned up,” D’Vorah said, her crystallized eyes scanning over my covered injury as she gently pulled at my opposite arm, her yellow, chitinous hide chafing against my soft skin. When she looked up, she had realized that we were not alone, and I could already predict her course of action. She growled and jutted out her four extensive stingers from her back, proceeding to bury the two bottom ones into the ground and point the two top ones towards the boys. At the same time, her withered and delicate bug-like wings sprouted from her back, supporting her body that was now elevated.

“D’Vorah, no. They are with me,” I told her, moving to stand in front of her so that her stingers were just mere inches away from my face. Her expression softened and she pulled her stingers from the ground, retracting both them and her wings into her back.

“You are hurt, Mistress. Come, This One will tend to your injuries,” She insisted, extending her arm out to me.

“No, I'll take care of myself later. Yoongi is my priority.” My eyes wandered over to him, who was still lying in the grass, blood slowly seeping out of his open wound. I quickly walked over to him and dug my arms under his arms while Jungkook took his legs, lifting him up so we could carry him inside. We hurriedly carried him up the stairs, into the castle, and through the long, empty hallways, eventually laying him down on one of the beds in the infirmary as the boys and D’Vorah followed me. “D’Vorah, you may go.”

“Are you certain, Mistress?” She asked, unsure.

“Yes, we’ll be alright.” She bowed and exited the room, leaving just me and the boys. I was scattered. I was disoriented. I was a mess. As I searched for a small glass vial, I continuously knocked over other supplies. However, the boys were kind enough to help me put them back where they belonged. As soon as my eyes landed on the small vial full of a clear, glittering liquid, I snatched it out of the wire stand and opened it up, simultaneously picking up an eyedropper beside me as I made my way back to Yoongi. I was ready for this, but all I needed was a little cooperation from the mint-haired boy.

“Maya-” Namjoon tried to speak, but I had cut him off - unintentionally of course.

“Yoongi, I'm going to need to take off your jeans.”

“Is this your excuse to finally get laid?” He chuckled in a stiff tone.

“How can you even be joking at a time like this?” I huffed and rolled my eyes as I quickly unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down so his thighs were exposed. I grabbed the vial and dipped the tip of the eyedropper into the liquid, sucking just a few drops in, then taking it out and applying it to Yoongi’s wound. He hissed in pain as the skin began to regenerate rapidly, the liquid spreading to close up the wound in just mere seconds like he had never been injured in the first place.

I had expected questions to start plummeting in, but there was only silence. After dressing Yoongi, I placed the supplies back where they belonged, proceeding to take out a small ceramic cup and a few natural herbs, after putting on a cup of water to heat up in the kettle.

“How… how did you do that?” Yoongi stammered.

“It's complicated.” I mentally slapped myself for answering his question so vaguely, but I wanted to have to slowly break it to them instead of just throwing it right at them.

“Maya, where are we?” Taehyung questioned, looking around the room to inspect every little tool and gadget laying around.

“Tae, this is where I grew up.”

“In… in a castle?” Jimin voiced, trying to make sense out of the whole situation as I crushed a few plump berries with the stone pestle in my grasp. Silence overtook the room for a few moments, but I eventually broke it as I realized I had finished with the medicine. I poured the water and herbal mixture into the cup and stirred it for a few seconds before handing it to Yoongi.

“Here, this will make you feel better.” I could tell his eyes were full of reluctance and fear, but I knew that deep down, he trusted me with his life. He slowly took the cup and took a sip, only for him to immediately spit it out. “I'm sorry, I know it's bitter.” My voice was unexpectedly assuring, and I didn't realize its effect until Yoongi downed the medicine without hesitation. I took the cup and began to clean it out when Yoongi decided to speak up.

“What was that?” He asked, a slight tone of disgust in his tired voice. I simply shook my head and ignored his question. “Maya, what's happening?” His soft voice made my arms weak, urging me to gently set down the cup and turn to face them. This was it. I couldn’t hide the truth any longer.

“I'm not who you think I am.”

“Noona…” Jungkook began, but I interrupted him with urgency.

“No, don't. I need you to listen to me.” I took a deep breath, flashing my eyes up to meet theirs, not even taking a moment to blink, as I wanted this to be as sincere and personal as possible. “Right now, we’re in The Embrace, a series of islands within a different realm, known as The Claim. I'm the ruler of The Embrace, and there are thousands of dragons living here under my name for safety and protection from the other areas in the realm. Only certain people are allowed here, and others aren't allowed to leave once they've come here. It’s for our safety and protection, and since I can't make any exceptions, that means you boys have to stay here too…”

I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, but I continued to speak, even though I knew I was silently crying at this point. I had to get everything out.

“I mean, it isn't too bad here in my opinion. We've got everything you'd have in the normal world. Running water, AC, heating, working pipes, electricity, Wi-Fi, modern food… you get the idea.” My tears were overflowing, and though I couldn't hold them back, I just wiped them on my sleeve and kept talking. “You don't know how sorry I am to have to put you through this. I don't even know why we’re here, but I can't do anything about it. I would take you back home, but I'd have to wipe your memory, and I haven't found a way to do that without getting rid of everything else. I'm so sorry, this is my fault, I-” Before I could finish my sentence, Yoongi had me enveloped in his arms, holding me tightly as I tried to hold back my sobs.

“It's okay,” He whispered, practically making me burst at the seams. I sobbed into his chest as he gently embraced me, and eventually, the others joined in to comfort me. A few minutes passed, and I had finally calmed down. Everyone pulled away from each other, and I apologized under my breath, hoping that no one would hear.

“Don't apologize. You said even you don’t know why we’re here. It's not your fault,” Seokjin consoled with a soft smile. I nodded slowly in agreement and he wiped away the rest of my tears before speaking up. “We’ll stay, right guys?” The others nodded immediately in approval with reassuring smiles.

“I have to admit, it'll be hard to stay away from family and friends…” Taehyung said truthfully.

“I'm sorry,” I apologized, feeling just as bad as I was a minute ago.

“No, no, it's okay. Really.” The room was tense for a moment, so I decided to ease up the tension by speaking up.

“Um, so, I guess if you have any questions you can ask me now,” I mumbled, shyly scratching behind my ear with my fingernails.

“Well, first of all, shouldn't we put some of that glittery stuff on your shoulder? You're still hurt,” Yoongi suggested, going to grab the same vial and eyedropper I had just set down.

“I'm fine, really-”

“Maya, you're hurt. Just let me do this.” I sighed and turned my back to him, pulling my shirt down to provide access to the wound, allowing Yoongi to squeeze out a drop of the liquid onto my wound, eliciting a hiss from me as the skin quickly worked to repair itself. As Yoongi placed the supplies back where they belonged, Jimin took the chance to ask a question.

“What is that stuff anyways?” He asked curiously.

“They're tears of an extremely rare dragon. They can cure anything, from broken bones to certain diseases, but they're hard to obtain,” I explained.

“So what do you use for smaller injuries?” Namjoon asked.

“Like what?”

“Well…” He shyly lifted up the hem of his shirt to reveal a small but still moderately bad cut on his side.

“Joon, why didn't you say something?” I stepped over to him and placed my hand over his wound, focusing my energy until a soft violet light began emitting from my palm, healing his laceration in a quick minute.

“Shit, man,” He laughed in amazement as he looked down, with no wound or scar in sight. “You're amazing.”

“Ah, I'm not that special.”

“Are you royalty?” Jungkook asked me bluntly.

“Jungkook-ah, don't be rude,” Hoseok scolded.

“Oh, sorry, Noona. I got a little excited.” A soft shade of pink spread across his puffy cheeks, and I smiled in response.

“I am,” I verified.

“A princess?” Jimin guessed.

“A queen.”

“Wahhh! Our little cutie is a queen!” Seokjin screamed, picking me up and spinning me around in his arms.

“Jin, stop!” I giggled as he set me down.

“Does anyone else live here?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes. I have four servants: D’Vorah, Mileena, Tashi, and Luthais. My other friends Sam, Hyunae, Minjun, and Fawn are also with me.”

“There's other Korean people?” Namjoon asked, a bit of relief in his deep voice.

“Yes. Everyone on this island speaks Korean, English, and Draconian.”

“Draconian?”

“It's my native tongue, the language of the dragons.”

“Maya, not to be rude, but do you actually have any space for us?” Seokjin questioned politely. I smiled and made my way over to the door, signaling for the boys to follow me as I spoke.

“This castle wasn't built for nothing. Come with me.” I led them upstairs and around the vast, royal halls, pointing out the rooms we were passing by as well, in case they ever wanted to go check them out. I opened the door to a spare bedroom and took Jungkook’s hand, tugging him inside. “This will be your room, Kook.”

“The entire thing?” He gawked, taking in the golden color scheme, every corner and every piece of furniture dazzling with rich embellishments. The chandelier’s diamonds sparkled in the glistening light, giving the maknae his true golden look.

“Yes, it's all-” Jungkook excitedly cut off my sentence with a breath-quenching hug, spinning me around wildly as I begged for him to stop before either of us got too dizzy.

“Thank you, Noona.”

“You're very welcome, sweetheart.” His cheeks quickly turned a bright shade of pink. He jumped on the bed, after hugging me one last time, and curled his body underneath the blankets. I turned off the lights as I gripped the doorknob tightly, pulling the door in slowly. “Rest up, Kook.”

The rest of the boys continued down the hallway to be led to their rooms until only Yoongi and I were left alone, roaming around the halls. An awkward silence took over us. To my surprise, instead of stopping when we came to his room, he kept walking forward.

“Yoongi? Your room is right here.” He turned his head over his shoulder to look at me with a sly smile.

“I know, but I wanted to stay around you for a little more,” He said.

“Am I hearing you correctly? The Min Yoongi doesn't want to sleep? What has the world come to…” I joked, walking towards him, eliciting a fake laugh from him as he sharply flicked my forehead. I winced from the sudden impact and pushed his shoulder with annoyance, a playful smile spreading across both of our faces.

“I'm still a little confused about all of this.”

“Like what?”

“I mean, how were you able to keep this hidden for so long? Didn't it get tiring?”

“Yes, it did, but it was for my own safety - and yours too. I couldn't let you find out about this, but now…” My eyes fell to the ground in guilt.

“It's okay. None of this is your fault, sugar.” I was a bit taken aback by his sudden use of my nickname. My head slowly rose so our eyes met. I smiled but the silence returned and lingered in the air for a few moments when Yoongi decided to speak up again, breaking the awkward tension surrounding us as he began to walk forward, my body automatically trailing beside him.

“So, that black dragon we saw earlier, is that yours?” He asked.

“Mhm. His name is Toothless. Do you want to meet him?” Although he nodded hesitantly, I eagerly grabbed his hand and pulled him to a nearby balcony, where a marble platform connected to the floors beneath our feet, elegant glass double-doors separating the two. I pushed open the doors and led him outside. Understandably, he was terrified, considering that we were thousands of feet in the air, even though there were railings on both our left and right to prevent us from falling off. I pulled out a slim silver whistle and blew it, which echoed throughout the mountains.

“Your dragon seems pretty close to you.” Yoongi spoke, discreetly pulling his hand away.

“I’ve been with him ever since I was a kid. He’s a Night Fury, the fastest species known.”

“Wow. I-” Before he could finish his sentence, Toothless suddenly landed in front of us with a loud thud, causing both me and Yoongi to fall over, our foreheads clashing together. “Damn, sorry.”

“No, it's fine.” A long pause finally pulled us both into the realization that Yoongi was positioned on top of me, his hands either side of my head. He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up, pulling me up as well. As soon as I got to my feet, Toothless rubbed up against my body and purred loudly, my hands immediately attracting to his black, scaly body. “Hey, bud. I missed you.”

“Hey, what happened to his tail?” Yoongi observed, pointing to his two tail fins, one of which was replaced by a makeshift leather fin.

“Oh, that. I found him when he was wounded from a fight. At first, he couldn't fly without me, but that little contraption lets him fly freely."

“You made this?” He asked as he knelt beside the leather fin, raising it with his palms. I nodded shyly, but my smile returned as Toothless nudged my body with affection. I nearly flinched once I shifted my eyes back to Yoongi due to his intense stare and wide grin.

“What?”

“You're amazing…” After such a confusing and short statement, he stayed silent for a moment, an awkward tension filling the air.

“Yoongi, you're staring.”

“Oh, sorry,” He mumbled, looking away, a shade of red painted on his cheeks.

The dark slender dragon took this empty moment of time as an opportunity to bond with Yoongi. Toothless chittered and dug his way under Yoongi’s arm, earning a small giggle from the mint-haired boy. Whining, he rolled over and smiled, his toothless mouth being displayed to match Yoongi’s signature gummy smile. Yoongi laughed, but was quickly cut off when the dragon playfully pounced on him, his pupils fuller than the moon.

“Aish, he’s a playful one.”

“Come on, bud. Get off him,” I laughed, prying him off of Yoongi. “So, you wanna go for a ride?” I asked rhetorically as I quickly ran inside to grab something, leaving Yoongi behind with Toothless.

“What do you me-” Before he could even finish his sentence, I had returned, a leather saddle in my arms. As I began to latch his saddle on, Yoongi stood off to the side, a glint of curiosity and fear in his milky brown eyes. I adjusted the last strap and stepped back to Yoongi, extending my hand out. Although he was reluctant, he enveloped his hand in mine and allowed me to lead him onto Toothless’ back. I climbed on afterwards and sat in front of him, my back facing his chest. I turned my head over my shoulder to look at Yoongi after he hooked his feet in the stirrups.

“You ready?”

“I guess so.”

“Hold on tight.” I slid my hand down to Toothless’ shoulder and gave him a little pat, prompting him to gently spread out his wings and lift himself into the air. As expected, Yoongi immediately gripped at my waist, snaking his arms further around my body as we flew higher into the air, and came to a steady glide. “Hey, you can look up now.” I teased as he slowly moved his face out of the crook of my neck and opened his eyes to see the beginning sunset, hundreds of miles of land spread underneath us with dragons sprouting from every corner, all jovial and safe. Bundles of trees hid tiny hatchlings playing and running in the forests below, their mother chasing after them with a wide grin and perked spines. The silhouette of a gargantuan beast overlooking the mountains stood out from the soft and serene colors of the sky.

“This is…” Yoongi gawked, unable to gather the rest of his words, and before I could speak, the feeling of his hands roughly gripping my waist messed with my ability to speak as well. I froze in place for a moment, peeking over my shoulder to look at him, and then his hands, hoping he’d get the message.

“Yoongi-ah, your hands-“

“Oh! Sorry.” He mumbled, fumbling to find somewhere else to put his hands.

“I-It’s fine. Just try to loosen up a bit.”

Toothless continued to carry us around the island, practically giving Yoongi a grand tour from a different perspective he never could have dreamed of. Eventually, the pale-haired boy spoke up, startling me slightly in the process.

“I have to admit, this is pretty cool. It’s amazing. He’s amazing,” He smiled, gently patting Toothless’ side with praise. As the deafening silence returned, I quickly thought of an idea and tapped Toothless in excitement, whispering for him to fly upwards on my command.

“Yoongi, you may wanna hold on,” I advised. “Let’s go, bud.”

“Wait, wha- Maya!” Yoongi had cut himself off and held onto me for dear life as Toothless began to climb up into the clouds, flapping his large wings in powerful bursts as we rose further up, and eventually above cloud level, where a whole other world was waiting for us. Just as we broke through the thick clouds, Yoongi had dared himself to look up, yet when he did, he didn’t regret his decision. Dozens of silver and white dragons pranced and perched along the clouds, the sunset's rays reflecting off of their scales, producing an odd but gorgeous array of colors into the skies. It was just as incredible as the view on the ground.

As intended, we were nearing closer to the castle, and my focus fixed on a particular silver dragon, isolated away from the others, resting on top of a cloud. Toothless must have known what my intention was as he flew closer to the dragon and called out, only briefly catching the loner’s attention. It turned away, quite obviously shy. I sighed then whistled sharply, which caught and kept the dragon’s attention. Dapples of silver swirled around its ruff as it tilted its snout towards me. I gestured for it to follow Toothless, and it obeyed, diving alongside us until we reached the front gates of the castle.

I slid off of Toothless and helped Yoongi get off after, then guided him over to the shy silver dragon. With our hands still clasped together, I moved behind him and nudged him slightly forward to the creature, and although hesitant, he obliged and walked slowly along with me.

“Hold out your hand,” I said suddenly, causing Yoongi to snap his head back in confusion.

“What?” He questioned, clearly afraid but slightly intrigued.

“Trust me.”

The dragon bowed its head as Yoongi moved forwards, the two nearing closer until his hand was mere inches away from the dragon's snout. Slowly, I guided Yoongi’s hand to its snout and gently pressed his palm against its scales, a warm purr emitting from its throat. I felt the boy’s body relax and removed my hand from his, leaving him with my hand still on the dragon's snout. The ends of his mouth turned upwards almost immediately, and a sense of euphoria took over what seemed to be the entire island. His gummy smile soon made an appearance as the dragon moved closer to sniff his snowy hair.

“He likes you,” I smiled, walking over to the dragon to give him a pat on the shoulder.

“Does he have a name?” Yoongi questioned, still entranced by the dragon’s grace and beauty.

“Aenaes.”

“Strange…”

“He could say the same for you, Yoongs.” The dragon stepped back, allowing for Yoongi to step closer to me, not even attempting to disconnect his eyes with mine until a shrill-like scream rang throughout the air and instantaneously drew us away from each other.

“Unnie! I can’t believe you’re back!” A young girl shrieked as she and another young man flew down on their dragons to land and come running over to us.

“Hyunae!” I laughed in glee, but it was cut short as the girl proceeded to pick me up and squeeze me tightly. She was small, but she could definitely pack a punch. I practically had to beg her to let go before she suffocated me. As she set me down, the other man picked me up again and swayed from side to side roughly, causing me to burst into a fit of giggles, eventually his own joining in. “It is so good to see you, Minjun.”

“I missed you,” Minjun whispered so that only I could hear him, eventually pulling away from me. “What are you doing back so early?”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain-“

“Wait, is that Suga? From BTS? Am I dreaming?” Hyunae gasped, pointing her finger to a very stiff and uncomfortable Yoongi.

“Yes, he’s here with all of the other members. They’ll be with us from now on.”

“Waahh, this is the best day ever!” Suddenly she jumped onto him, hugging him tightly, his eyes wandering over to me with a look that was a clear cry for help.

I laughed at Yoongi’s suffering then leaned over to Minjun and whispered in his ear.

“By the way, don’t mention to the boys that they’ll be getting their own dragons just yet. They need time.”

Hyunae squealed again and pulled away, still freaking out over her idol that was standing in front of her, in the flesh.

“Sorry, she’s excited. She’s a big fan of BTS… as you can probably see.” I muttered the last part so nobody could hear what I was saying. “Don’t get off duty though, Hyunae, you still have to finish your surveillance with Minjun!”

“Oh, right! Sorry, unnie. Come on Jun-Jun, I’ll race you!” She quickly mounted her dragon, not even hesitating to take off into the sky, leaving Minjun behind, slightly irritated.

“For god’s sake, Hyunae! Don’t you have any respect?!” Minjun yelled, quickly mounting his dragon to follow after her. It was only until they were out of our view when Yoongi decided to break the silence.

“How old is that girl?” He asked, almost with a tone of disgust.

“She’s only 15, it’s a part of being young,” I sighed.

“She’s 15?”

“Five years ago, I rescued her from a slave trade in the Northern Markets of The Claim.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, she’s found a new life.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back. “She’s like a daughter to me - ironic, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I never told you I can’t have kids?”

“No, I don’t think you’ve ever brought it up.” Defined eyebrows arched imperiously as he put a hand on his hip. He looked stiff and his eyes were blank, as if holding back a certain emotion.

“Well, now you know. Come on, we should go. It’s getting late and tonight’s a full moon.”

“What’s so bad about a full moon?”

“You really don’t wanna know.” I grabbed his hand and led him inside the castle after dismissing Aenaes and Toothless so they could roam freely for the night, giving his saddle to D’Vorah to put back while we roamed the halls. Inside, the rest of the boys were chatting away in the kitchen, all of them working, cutting vegetables and seasoning dishes. As Yoongi and I made our entrance into the room, they all froze in place, and, being the clumsy guy that he is, Namjoon dropped the glass he was holding in his hand, shards flying and scattering all over the tile floor.

“Really, hyung?” Jungkook huffed, crossing his arms like a disappointed mother.

“I didn’t expect them to come in so suddenly!” Namjoon whined, causing all of us to erupt into laughter.

“Don’t worry, the dragons tend to break everything they see too,” I consoled.

“Hyung would blend in perfectly with them,” Taehyung muttered, earning a smack from the eldest boy.

“We were going to cook you a surprise dinner. It’s the least we could do,” Seokjin said as he began to clean up the shattered mess that Namjoon had inevitably created.

“Oh no, I should be the one doing this. After all, you guys have to put up with this,” I said apologetically.

“Well, we’re almost done. Mind helping out?”

I assisted them with the preparation of the rest of the food, and when the meal was finished, all eight of us carried the numerous amount of dishes to the dining room, setting them down on the long, wooden table. As if on cue, Hyunae and Minjun walked into the room, returning from surveillance, stomachs rumbling and mouths drooling.

“Wow! Who made this?” Hyunae exclaimed, and the seven boys proudly raised their hands, at least until Jin quickly swatted Yoongi’s hand down, causing him to hold back a stiffened laugh. “Thank you so much!”

“Yes, thank you,” Minjun added, bowing deeply along with the younger girl.

Everyone took their seats and began to dine into the food, while simultaneously conversing with one another. Eventually, a short girl with platinum blonde hair entered the room, halting everyone’s conversations and averting their attention to her.

“Maya, you’re back,” She smiled, taking the empty seat beside Hyunae.

“Hi, Samantha. I see you’ve gotten taller,” I joked, the dining hall echoing with everyone’s laughter. As I began to take a sip of my water, Minjun spoke to the boys.

“So, I heard Maya is going to give you all dragons,” He said in a quite monotonous tone, causing me to choke on my water and cough it up as Seokjin comfortingly patted my back until my breath steadied again.

“Minjun, I specifically told you not to say anything about-“

“Jungkook, right?” He said innocently, pointing to the youngest boy, who looked utterly confused and lost at the moment. “You look like you could train a Monstrous Nightmare. Maybe even a Red-Eyed Ravager! Those things are absolutely vicious, let me tell you-“

“Minjun!”

“What? You don’t think I should warn them of the dangers they’re exposed to if they’re gonna live here? I think they have the right to know what could happen to them-“

“Em pleni!” I yelled, pushing back my chair as I slammed my palms against the table, a familiar sting returning to my eyes, which was not exactly my main concern at that moment. “Dison laik son swima op ona rein.”

With a defeated huff, Minjun smoothly stood up and left the room without another word, leaving the dining room with complete, utter silence. Before the boys could turn their heads to me, I covered my face with my hand and began to leave the room when I felt someone gently grab my wrist, a soft voice following:

“Why are you hiding your face?”

“Yoongi, don’t,” I pleaded, and he unexpectedly yanked my hands away, but I was quick enough to shut my eyes as tight as I could. As his hands traveled up to cup my cheeks, I pressed my palms against his chest, desperately trying to make him give up.

“What are you hiding?” He asked, his voice gentle yet concerned.

“You guys will get freaked out.”

“Noona, we won’t,” Jungkook spoke in the most reassuring voice he could muster up.

“God, you’re impossible,” I sighed and muttered under my breath as I slowly fluttered my eyelids open, the boys simultaneously exclaiming in admiration and surprise at my glowing white eyes.

“Woah! Are those real?” Taehyung asked excitedly, quickly rising from his seat along with the others to take a closer look - even Hyunae joined in, despite the many times she’s seen my secret, haunting eyes.

“They’re gorgeous,” Yoongi commented, the heat flushing to my cheeks as his gaze intensified.

“I think hyung meant to say ‘you’re gor-‘“ Namjoon teased, but he was quickly shut up by a kick to the shin from a very agitated Yoongi.

“Maya, why do your eyes… you know?” Jimin questioned shyly, purposefully avoiding eye contact with me from the sheer, overwhelming intimidation I was sending off.

“Chim, please don’t be scared. It’s just me. They usually turn white when I get frustrated or scared,” I explained with a soft smile.

“I’d be damn furious just looking at that bratty kid again,” Yoongi commented in a bitter tone.

“Well, Yoongs, that kid is actually 29, so maybe you’ll have to hold back on your personal feelings and be a little bit nicer to him,” I sighed, an obvious disappointment covering Yoongi’s face as he realized he’d have to call Minjun ‘hyung.’ “I gotta say though, he’s acting strange.”

“Is what he said true?” Namjoon asked, taking me aback by his question. “About us getting dragons?”

I opened my mouth to speak, yet no sound escaped, as I wasn’t even sure what the answer was yet. Yes, it was common for newcomers to get their own dragon to tame, but it was different for the boys. Their hearts were forgiving and nurturing, and I honestly didn’t think they had the right heart to handle this kind of stuff. I was practically heartless compared to them.

“I-It’s true - but I wanted you to settle in first. I just thought it’d only be right to let you guys have a dragon of your own. It’s a stupid idea, I’m sorry-“ I began to speak, but Hoseok was quick to cut me off.

“Hey, I think it’s a good idea. Don’t put yourself down so much,” He said with a gentle, reassuring grin that shined brighter than the sun. “But maybe we should start off small so I don’t get a heart attack right away.”

The group laughed at Hobi’s comments, lifting the room’s depressing mood to a more bright, cheerful one. Suddenly, I had an idea that I knew the boys would agree to.

“Hey, how about we go for a swim? I’ve got an indoor pool on the other side of this floor,” I suggested, and as expected, the boys did indeed agree, rushing to eat and clean up the leftovers. While Hyunae decided to go upstairs to her room to study, I led the boys to the pool, which once it came into sight, the younger ones began to strip and jump in without hesitation, the others following quickly, with the exception of Yoongi, who stood beside me unfazed by his members’ actions. “Oh my god, guys! I have swim shorts you could’ve used.” I covered my eyes and jokingly looked away in disgust.

“Come on, where’s the fun in that?” Seokjin laughed as he and Jungkook swam to the deeper end.

“Hyung! Why don’t you come in?” Taehyung said, his boxy grin appearing.

“Too much effort,” Yoongi simply retorted and began to walk towards the sofa sectional in the corner. I took this moment to focus my attention on the pool water, and flipped my hand towards the ceiling, slowly raising it as my fingers curled, the water quickly deforming and splitting into a messy sphere floating in the air. I moved my hand so that the sphere followed my movements and was positioned right above Yoongi. Just prior to reaching the corner, I opened my hand and the sphere of water instantly broke, soaking him completely.

“Holy shit!” Jungkook yelled in excitement, clapping his hands like a little child. As I faced the other boys in the pool to do a couple bows, Namjoon spoke up, pointing to Yoongi, who was frozen still but clearly waiting for the right moment to move.

“Maya, you better run,” He advised, and as soon as I turned my head to look at Yoongi, he was standing right in front of me. He lifted me up bridal style and hovered my body over the water, threatening to throw me in. I screamed and clung onto his wet, white t-shirt, my eyes traveling down to see a faint outline of his abs, heat intensely rushing to my cheeks at the sight.

“Yoongi, please don’t! I’m sorry, I swear! Please-“ I cried out helplessly.

“Cute, she’s begging~” He cooed in an oddly seductive voice. As a simple but clever way to tease me, he pretended to drop me by quickly letting go and catching me before I hit the water, making me scream and hold onto him even tighter.

“Fuck, Yoongi! Please!”

“Hmph, you’re no fun.” He quickly set me down, giving me a sense of safety. Without allowing me to even take a single breath, he grabbed my waist and jumped into the pool, dragging me along with him. I broke away from his grasp and surfaced up above the water, Yoongi following shortly after, not that I even cared as I began to attack him.

“Asshole!”

“Hey, don’t curse!” Seokjin scolded.

“My island, my rules, sweetheart.” I lifted my hand out from the water and flicked my finger upwards, causing a tentacle-like stream of water to spike up and strike Jin’s back, shortly dissolving afterwards. He yelped and rubbed the stricken area to soothe the sudden vicious contact, the rest of us laughing at his reaction.

“How do you even do that?” The elder boy pouted, automatically drawing me closer to him to embrace him and apologize, making sure he was alright.

“It’s something I like to call waterbending.”

“You are incredible,” Yoongi giggled.

“Ah, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Maya! Catch!” Hoseok shouted from behind me. However, as soon as I turned around, an inflated beach ball hit me in the face, almost as if karma was calling my name.

“Motherfu-“

“Attack!” Taehyung screamed as he dunked me underneath the water, the others quickly joining in to grab at my flailing limbs. Every time I tried to rise up from underwater, one of the boys pushed me back down. After what seemed like hours and hours, they finally stopped and I was able to rise up and breathe properly.

“And that, my friend, is what we call karma,” Seokjin gushed innocently as I eventually regained my breath.

“Maya, I wanted to ask if your parents are here. I’d love to meet them,” Namjoon said, smiling, however his smile dropped as he saw my expression darken at the mention of my parents.

“They… aren’t with me anymore.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I-“

“No, it’s okay. You should know about them. It’s just been so long since I’ve talked about them.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, Noona,” Jungkook consoled.

“Yeah, we don’t want to pry,” Jimin added.

“It’s alright. My father passed away shortly after I was pronounced as the ruler of The Embrace. He made a deal with my enemy, that if he sacrificed himself to them, they’d leave us alone. He wanted to make me queen as soon as possible. I was only 12 years old,” I said, speaking as clear and slow as I could to prevent myself from tearing up. “He was executed that day, but the enemy kept their promise. It’s been seven years and there hasn’t been any sign of them.”

“I’m so sorry,” Taehyung whispered, placing his hand on my shoulder for comfort. “What about your mother?”

“Oh, I’ve never met my mother. She left the Embrace a few weeks after I was born. I don’t even remember her name…”

“Hey, sugar, you don’t have to say anything else,” Yoongi stated, moving closer to embrace me, to which I happily accepted, wrapping my arms around his figure as his arms snaked around my waist. Eventually, when the depressing mood subsided, we got back to messing around in the water and playing with each other. We were having so much fun, I didn’t even notice how late it had gotten.

We left the pool, wrapped ourselves in warm towels, and I sent each of the boys to their rooms, where a fresh pile of clothes was waiting for them, which was generously chosen by my servants Mileena and D’Vorah. I went to my room to change, and Yoongi waited for me to walk him back. However, Yoongi asked for me to stand by, and quickly went inside his room, stepping back out within a minute wearing a black sweater, sleeves lined with red and black stripes, along with ripped skinny jeans, the same outfit that had been laid out on his bed.

We stood there facing each other, standing awkwardly without saying a word or making eye contact. I opened my mouth to speak, but Yoongi was faster and unintentionally cut me off.

“Hey, can we just stay together for a little longer?” He said suddenly, his words coming out more like a beg rather than a request.

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?” I asked, notably concerned as I gently grabbed his arm to get his attention.

“I just…” He sighed and looked away, leaving me with a heavy feeling of guilt. No doubt about it, he was probably broken inside, having to stay away from friends and family to live a whole new life. Without saying anything, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to my room, and to the connecting balcony, where a perfect view of the night sky was awaiting us.

I sat down close to the edge, our hands still clasped together as he slowly sat beside me, inching closer to me as the moon finally began to reach its peak. Although I hesitated, I rested my head on his shoulder, moving up against him so his arm was draped around my shoulder, resting comfortably as he held me close. Minutes passed in silence, the overbearing beauty of the dark shades painting the sky speaking for us.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I whispered, looking up to admire the sky, outlines of dragons soaring against the twinkling stars. Yoongi simply nodded and hummed in agreement, the deafening silence returning shortly. I glanced at him quickly, his eyes fixed on the distant stars.

“I still can’t believe this all existed, and we never even knew about it,” Yoongi suddenly said with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, but it was for good reason, though. If people in Earthrealm learned that this place exists, we’d all probably be caged in a zoo or taken into a science lab for experiments.”

“That’s why we decided to stay. It was clear that going back would just harm you.”

“Thank you, Yoongi,” I said sincerely, looking up as his obsidian orbs connected with mine.

“No problem, sugar,” He smiled, ruffling my hair lightly, his gummy smile creeping onto his lips.

“When are you going to stop calling me that?” I quietly laughed as flashbacks of our first meeting came to my mind.

I remember how embarrassed he was when he knocked open a sugar container onto me while I was kneeling beside him in the baking aisle, looking for a bag of chocolate chips on the bottom shelves. He was so cute when he was flustered, blushing like crazy and apologizing over and over again. He even tried to brush all the little specks of sugar out of my hair, and even though I told him it was fine, he insisted on paying for my stuff to make up for his clumsy act. After helping me with my bags back to my car, he asked for my phone and quickly typed something in my notes, then handed it back to me as he walked off with a wave. I’ll never forget how wide I had grinned at his few, sweet words.

My name’s Yoongi. Text me sometime, sugar.

I still can’t believe my quirky nickname came from such an embarrassing but memorable moment for the both of us. Now we look back on it and just laugh it off as if it was destined to be.

“Yah! Are you even listening to me?” Yoongi’s voice snapped me back into reality.

“Huh? What, oh sorry,” I sputtered, shaking my head as my mind finally wandered back to me.

“Were you daydreaming about me?” He teased, poking at my shoulder.

“What? No! God, you’re an idiot,” I groaned, swatting his hand away.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, dumbass.”

“Hmm, I might just have to tickle the truth out of you.” He suddenly began to ruthlessly attack my sides with his fingers, causing me to squeal and stand up to evade his attacks, yet his hands kept following. I giggled and pushed his hands away, running away from him as he chased after me. With all of this excitement, I didn’t notice that I was nearing towards the edge of the platform, and when I did, I was too late, frantically trying to balance myself. Luckily, Yoongi was quick to catch me by my waist and pull me back away from the edge protectively, one of his hands traveling up to my cheek as worry overtook his dark, loving eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, thank you,” I mumbled as he pulled me closer, pushing my head so I was now burying my face in his chest, his chin resting atop my head.

“God, you scared me. You almost got yourself killed.”

“I would’ve been fine, Yoongi.”

“Come on, let’s go inside.” With that, he gently grabbed my wrist and led me into my bedroom, which connected directly to the platform that was previously underneath our feet not too long ago. He was about to let go of me and exit the room, but I gently pulled him back, looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Is there anything else you wanted to know or ask for?”

“Uh, well… me and some of the others left their phones back in the dorm, and I was wondering if you could possibly get them.”

“Of course. I can send a retriever to collect them and be back by tomorrow morning. I could even tell them to get your laptop so you can still work on your music here.”

“Seriously? Thank you!” The smile on Yoongi’s lips was wider and brighter than any other smile I had ever seen. He suddenly threw his arms around me and lightly pecked my cheek, but quickly pulled away once he realized what he had done. “Ah, I-I’m sorry, I got excited.”

“It’s okay, Yoongs. You should go get some rest.” He nodded and left the room after hugging me one last time, leaving me alone with my overwhelming thoughts.

I sighed and fell onto my bed, not even making an effort to clean myself up. Pulling the vanilla scented blankets over myself, I let my eyes close, but sleep wasn’t able to come to me. My mind was busy running hundreds and hundreds of miles, filled with concerns and questions about the new future I inevitably brought to the boys.

They were innocent and untroubled, despite their heavy schedule and constant pressure from companies and the media. Here, they were free, but the emotional toll could be more grave than it was when they had normal lives.

With them living here, the world just got a whole lot bigger. I recited the skills and protocols they’d have to learn to be able to survive, and that’s when I realized what was in store for me. I’d have to teach them how to fight, how to fly, how to survive - but I didn’t even know myself if they had the heart to follow in my steps. They’d even eventually have to learn how to-

My thoughts were quickly cut off by a soft knock on my door. I propped myself up on my forearms and quickly fixed my hair, calling out to the person standing outside, their shadow seeping through the bottom opening of the closed door.

“Yes?” I yawned, shifting my eyes to the balcony doors when I realized how late it had gotten, the bright stars shimmering against the utter darkness of the sky. The person outside spoke.

“Maya, it’s Yoongi.”

“Oh, come in.”

The door slowly creaked open, and lo and behold, Yoongi stepped into the room, his tousled hair and pouty lips making him look irresistibly adorable, the white sheet wrapped around his body only adding to his softness. He closed the door behind him and adjusted the sheet as I spoke up to ask him what was bothering him.

“I can’t sleep,” He mumbled, rubbing his half-lidded eyes with his sweaty palms.

“Well, what do you want me to do about that?” I teased, but immediately recognized my mistake as I remembered how impossible it was to deal with Yoongi when he was grumpy - which was almost always when he was tired.

“Cute. Now move over.” Before I could say anything to protest, he threw his sheet over me and climbed onto the bed, crawling over me and collapsing beside me, pulling the sheet back over him, along with a good portion of my blanket I was previously covered with. I groaned and tugged it back, leaving him with only the sheet. As I was just beginning to fall asleep, I felt a shift in weight on the bed and realized that Yoongi had moved closer to me, his chest pressing against my back and his breath tickling the skin on my neck. “It’s cold.”

“Take some of my blanket and go to sleep,” I whined, throwing half of my blanket over to his side. Even with the extra warmth, Yoongi moved closer and slid his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me into his curled figure. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him off, and before I knew it, my eyes had closed and I had fallen fast asleep in his arms.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

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#plotsofpastel #reading this again makes me want to rewrite everything #i promise the second book is better skksksksks #watch this get 0 notes #i'll give yall $10 #i really sat there for 20 minutes thinking about whether i should post this #fuck it #bts #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts dragon au #bts dragon #bts angst #bts series #bts drama #bts au #bangtan boys #beyond the scene

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theheightofdishonor · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Battles in the Metal Saga (in no particular order)

Kyoya-Ryuga

There aren’t many battles that are just about raw power the way this one is. The whole thing is just so extra, from ruining the stadium before the battle even begins to ending with Ryuga’s possession and Kyoya passing out with a dragon’s tail going through his chest. The power-play between these two is riveting. And on top of that, it’s the closest anyone but Gingka and Nemesis ever gets to beating Ryuga. However, it does annoy me that Kyoya is the only one of Ryuga’s opponents in Battle Bladers who comes out unaffected in the long-term. After their respective battles, Hikaru retires from Beyblade, Tsubasa suffers with possession, and both experience a healthy dose of PTSD but apparently, Kyoya gets away with no signs of it? I call bullshit.

2.Da Xian - Julian

If you didn’t love Da Xiang before, you had to after this battle. It did a brilliant job of highlighting how good Dashan is at manipulating people, and doing so “coolly, and brilliantly”. Dashan sees the scene as the opportunity it is and coaxes Julian from a disheartened shell of his former self to someone who’s willing to try again without the man even knowing. Oh, and he gets Julian to appreciate the value of his friends too. And beats him in battle easily. And delivers, “You think you and I are alike? That’s an insult, ” decimating Julian’s remaining pride. Talk about being cool. (Chao Xin should definitely take pointers)

3. Gingka vs 100 (supposedly) Face Hunters

I had a hard time choosing between this and the battle earlier in the episode where Gingka first saves Kenta from Face Hunters, but I think this holds more impact and the one Kenta thinks is more notable. As a fight itself, it’s short compared to some of the other more epic battles on this list, and its placement is more about the consequences of it than the contents of the actual battle itself. It’s the moment where Kenta’s admiration for Gingka really cements, and the moment that Kyoya takes a serious interest in him, shaping his relationship with two people who will be monumental in his life. Also, Gingka looks super cool and baby Kenta is adorable.

4. Excalibur-Gan Gan Galaxy

This battle has one of my favourite scenes of ALL TIME- Masamune single-handedly cutting through Sophie and Wales’s joint special move. Let me just take a second to gush about how powerful he is and how much I love him and how he deserves so much more love and did I mention he stopped the twins in their track with ONE MOVE. Your fave could never but if I don’t stop now, i’ll be talking about Masamune all day.

The visual of Pegasus and Striker moving as one force, with the music crescendoing only for Destroyer to cut them down at the climax, is breathtaking. Seriously, I’ve watched that one scene on repeat and my breath catches.

I love to see Masamune and Gingka work together as a team, especially because it’s not their preferred dynamic and it doesn’t always come easily to them. But when they try, they’re magic together, partially because they’re so alike. This is the only battle where we get the full force of the Y-Masamune-Gingka dynamic, a god-tier trio who can only possess one brain cell when they’re together because otherwise, they’d be way too strong. Let’s be real. If these morons actually combined their intelligence, they would have crushed Excalibur to dust. We need more scenes with them tbh

As a side note, it was not at all ok for these guys to crash the festival or for Yu to ruin a culturally important arena. It’s played off way to lightheartedly for my tastes. It’s not even the only time they’re insensitive- in Fury, Yu and Kyoya damage ancient ruins and Gingka’s group explicitly disobeys orders to not step on a sacred volcano. The whole thing is kinda gross and the Metal Saga should address its serious disregard for other cultures. Sophie losing her shit on a literal 12 year old was funny though.

5. The Legendary Bladers-Nemesis part 2

This is a pretty long battle, I linked it to where the battle begins but it doesn’t end until the end of the next episode. There’s a lot about this battle that drives me crazy- like why are you people just letting Kenta destroy himself, why are the strongest bladers in the world who were specifically chosen for this battle unable to withstand for more than two hits, etc BUT- this is when Ryuga hands over the Star Fragment which is cool and emotional enough to let everything else slide. It’s a pretty satisfying conclusion to the Kenta-Ryuga arc and rings parallel to Metal Fusion down to Ryuga pulling a Storm Pegasus and disappearing into thin air.Which talking about, I will forever be mad Storm Pegasus doesn’t ever come into play after Metal Fusion. Shogun Steel would have been such a perfect time to bring Storm Pegasus back to play and assure in a new era- such wasted potential, but I digress.

Oh, and friendly reminder that Yu’s Inferno Blast breaks through Rago’s barrier while 8 Legendary Bladers combined couldn’t leave a dent on Nemesis.

6. Kenta-Reiji

Talking about emotional, if you didn’t cry during this battle, you’re a liar- it’s painful to watch. The entire thing with Kenta using Libra’s performance tip and his insistence that he has to win for Yu- it breaks your heart. Reiji is such a great villain because he does exactly what he’s meant to do- make the audience be invested in him. He’s so unnecessarily cruel, so irredeamable, and this episode drills that into your skull. Even the spectators of the match can’t look on as Reiji tortured Kenta well after Sagittario has stopped spinning.

7. Easter Island

It would take too long to name everyone involved in this, so i’m not going to. But boy is it a ride You’ve got King starting it off with Chris for insulting/defeating/humiliating Masamune- a noble cause if there ever was one. His impassioned defense of his boyfriend is one of the best speeches/declarations in the Saga and is also 80% of the reason this battle is on the list. The guy has his priorities straight, ok. Gingka says it’s either Masamune’s feelings or the world and King chooses Masamune, no questions, no hesitations. Can’t say I blame him. Especially after seeing the heartbreak on Masamune’s face when Chris insults him. But of course, the world is actually more important so

Gingka jumps in to stop King which as Benkai mentions, you can’t stop him from battling by actually battling him, so I don’t know what Gingka was thinking. Johannes’s lackies, including Aguma and the Beylin Fist, joins the battle, prompting Zeo, Toby, etc to also join. Then Ryuga appears and starts draining Chris’s power before Kenta stops him (thus publically revealing their affiliation to the world) and the two disappear. Literally everyone is involved, Johannes tells Chris to “man up” when he dares to show pain that Ryuga is literally stealing his power away but then vanishes because he doesn’t want to face Gingka head on yet. Can you say hypocrite? And while this was all happening, Johannes somehow managed to buy Chris’s loyalties.

It’s insane and so much fun.

8.Tsubasa-Jack

I didn’t expect to put this on the list but I watched it recently and had a newfound appreciation for it so here it is. While the team battle with Excalibur was the climax of Tsubasa’s arc, this was the resolution. It is arguably Tsubasa’s best battle of the series. He made his recovery with Excalibur, had a practice run with the Garcias, and by this battle, Tsubasa is better than ever. There’s a satisfaction in watching Tsubasa beat Jack with ease. After struggling the entire season, it's very cathartic. There’s this one bit where Jack is complaining about battling Ryuga and how Tsubasa can’t possibly know the disappointment he felt and Tsubasa snaps, because how fucking dare he, who the fuck did Jack think he is. Again, very cathartic.

Irrelevant, but this episode has some of the best quotes including gems like

“What is this? A bunch of creepy pictures”;

“Oh dear Tsubasa” queue Jack asking for a battle;

“You’re really lacking in the culture department” - Jack to Madoka, “

The rest of Gan-Gan Galaxy are common, unrefined types”.

The list never ends. Do yourself a favour and watch the episode.

9. Zoe-Toby-Masamune

This is the only season where there’s no one Final Battle but instead two separate climactic moments- Ryuga and Gingka working together to stop Hades City from melting down(?) and Toby and Zeo fighting to bring Toby back to normal.

Unlike the Finales in Fusion and Fury, this one’s private, personal. Not only were Ryuga-Gingka battle and the Battle against Nemesis attended by a lot of people, they were also widely broadcasted across the world. In comparison, Toby, Zeo and Masamune (and Ziggurat at one point) are the only ones to witness the Finale in Masters. It’s a very intimate moment. Their friendship is fractured-Toby's brainwashed, Zeo was manipulated, and there’s still tension because Masamune left them in a time of need. The two of them are finally confronting just how much their friendship has strained: Masamune never imagined Zeo would resent him when he only ever wanted to fulfill Toby’s wish; he’s almost offended Zeo would think so badly of him. On the other hand, Zeo wrestles between accepting Ziggurat manipulated him but also his very valid resentment towards Masamune. They both hurt each other but get past it and forgive each other for the sake of their best friend. Bey battles are when bladers communicate through each other and in this one, these three use it to find their way back to each other.

10.

Gingka-Kyoya

Of course, the list wouldn’t be complete without a Gingka-Kyoya battle. Despite Kyoya being Gingka’s second biggest rival, they only have 3 complete battles with a clear winner. (Kyoya is disqualified in Survival Battle, and neither won in the Championships Team battle or the one in Fury). Despite there being so few options, it was still hard for me to choose because they’re all brilliant and my opinion changes every other day.

Honestly, I didn’t remember why I chose this battle, so I went back in and re-watched it- SO many thoughts. For one thing, Kyoya sounds like a cheesy bat man villain. Seriously though, the battle feels so off to me because in this episode, Kyoya is more or less just another evil villain; a pale foreshadow of what Ryuga will become in the Final Battle. I’m not even kidding. This hits almost the exact beats that the Gingka-Ryuga battle will. I didn’t like this battle when I re-watched it for this post. Gingka and Kyoya’s battles are important because of the history and bond they share and in this battle, neither of those are solidified and it’s just not as satisfying.

I will admit though that this battle was important for them, mostly Kyoya who was headed towards unhinged-Ryuga territory before Gingka saved him. It kickstarts Kyoya into being the lovable grump we know he’s capable of being and creates a debt towards Gingka which in turn develops into an actual friendship. It’s an important step of their journey and I can’t begrudge it too much ig. If you really want to watch a Gingka-Kyoya battle for non-thematic reasons, though, I recommend the World Championships or the one in Metal Fury Ep 1

#metal saga #beyblade metal saga #gingka hagane #beyblade #metal fusion #metal masters #metal fury #beyblade metal fight #metal fight #kyoya tategami #kenta yumiya #ryuga

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thatmultifandomhoe · 6 years ago

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Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 4

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 2,973

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: Angst, angst baby

Surprise Update. In honor of reaching 1,000 followers, here’s an early update. I hope y’all enjoy!

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It was a ritual for you and Hoseok at this point. Every time you went to Munchies, you both got the same exact thing, and depending on the day you sometimes added to it. For Hoseok, it was two scoops of vanilla ice cream with peanut butter in a waffle cone and rainbow sprinkles. You got two scoops of the triple chocolate fudge ice cream in a dish with M&M pieces and chocolate syrup.

The first time you took Hoseok with you to Munchies, he had been confused after you ordered, a peculiar look on his face as he looked at you. It wasn’t until you were sitting that he asked why you didn’t get strawberry ice cream.

“I actually don’t like strawberries,” you answered, taking that moment to have a bite of your ice cream.

He was already in the middle of licking the side of his cone when you confessed, making his eyes widen. “But…but your scent. It’s strawberry cream.”

You pointed your spoon at him, nodding in agreement. “I know,” you spoke after swallowing. “I think it’s because of the shampoo and conditioner I use. They’re strawberry cream scented and I always use them. It’s my favorite.”

Hoseok’s mouth had dropped open a little, but nodded in understanding. “That does make sense then. If you use something like that so much, it kinda molds to your natural scent in a way.”

That had been three years ago and according to Hoseok, even if you did run out of that specific shampoo and conditioner and had to make do with another type, you still smell of strawberry cream.

“Thank you, Strawberry,” Hoseok said as the two of you sat down in your booth. It was in your opinion, the best seat in the building. It was against the wall in-between two other booths, which meant you got to watch who came in and out of Munchies. Sometimes you’d try and put together stories for whoever walked in for the fun of it. Hoseok liked giving them superhero powers and you wondered what secrets they could be hiding.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you said, taking another bite of your ice cream, this time smaller so you could speak again. “If it weren’t for you, I would be here all alone.”

He rolled his eyes, waiting for you to clean your spoon off the ice cream that was on it to take it. Without even asking, he scooped some of the peanut butter off his and spread it onto your desert.

When he first started doing that, you kept on telling him that he didn’t need too, but he ignored you. He liked switching it up though, either holding out the cone for your take a bite or scooping it with your spoon. “You were already doing that before I came along.”

“And that made me realize I was simply waiting for you to come and join me.”

Hoseok laughed, handing you back the spoon so you could continue eating. “You lived a sad life before me Strawberry.”

“Not sad,” you pointed out, spreading the peanut over your ice cream more so it wasn’t just in one spot. “Just different. Why do you always gotta give me some of the peanut butter?”

He simply shrugged, taking a bite out of the waffle cone this time. He was a fast eater and so he was always halfway done with his treat before you were even made a noticeable dent in yours. “I love it, but they always put on a little too much for me.”

“Then why don’t you ask for less?”

“Because you love peanut butter but refuse to get it on your ice cream, because then you’ll feel bad about binging out on all these sweets at once. Honestly, you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Ice cream is supposed to make you happy, not sad. Besides it’s not like we’re here every day. More like once a month really.”

Your mouth dropped open, blinking as you simply stared at you. If anything, you thought it would be a short answer along the lines of, ‘because you like peanut butter so why waste it.’ It wasn’t though.

Vaguely you could remember him asking you why you just didn’t get it after noticing you staring at it one time. That had been an embarrassing moment for you. Staring at someone else’s food was not creepy or weird at all. It wasn’t all your fault though. You had a major sweet tooth that resulted in you binging on sweets more times than you would like to admit. The fact that he remembered you telling him this, it made you feel warm on the inside.

When he sensed a shift in your emotions - your strawberry scent becoming a little sweeter - Hoseok raised an eyebrow as he looked at you while licking his ice cream. It was a silent question but you just shook your head instead and focused on yours. He was quick to notice the soft smile that appeared on your face, but didn’t mention it. Instead, he silently took a moment to admire how shy and happy you looked. Shy wasn’t usually a word he’d typically used to describe you. He had broken any barriers that had been up the first day he met you.

This…this was different though. And he couldn’t remember the last time your scent turned this sweet. It wasn’t overpowering or sickly sweet, but it was like the feeling you might have after eating your favorite candy for the first time in months of not having it. It also reminded him of that moment when he wakes up in the morning and his blankets were just perfectly warm, and he didn’t want to get out of bed.

Hoseok couldn’t remember the last time someone’s scent made him feel that way. Whatever it was that was making him feel this way though, he liked it.

The ride back to your apartment was quick and quiet this time. But this was because Hoseok was immersed in his phone, checking his messages and social media in-case Sue had sent a text or posted some pictures. His leg shook and he was chewing on his bottom lip in a nervous manner.

You let him go about his search. He wouldn’t relax until he had some form of contact from Sue telling him she was okay. By the time you pulled into your parking lot, Hoseok had checked and rechecked his phone more times than you can count. Killing the engine, you looked over at him, waiting to see if he noticed where he was.

It took a few minutes, but he blinked as he glanced at you, then around his surroundings. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he put away his phone and murmured a sorry.

“Can we go inside now and get out of the cold?” You teased, tugging on your hat and gloves.

Hoseok adjusted his jacket and regrettably put on his hat, his ears flattening to make it fit properly. Usually he went without it but your parking spot was the furthest away from the building entrance. It sucked, but it was something you learned to suck up.

“Why can’t we park closer?” Hoseok whined, slinging his bags over both shoulders. You had grabbed his suitcase and was wheeling it behind you.

“Because that’s my assigned parking space,” you gently explained. The wheels from the suitcase rattling against the pavement.

“But it’s so far away. And it’s so cold.”

“It’s only a few minutes Hobi.”

The hybrid pouted as he faithfully followed you to the sidewalk, the wheels suddenly gliding now. “It’s still cold.”

You rolled your eyes and in a matter of minutes the two of you were inside the elevator going up to your apartment. Hoseok didn’t wait to take his hat off, as soon as he was inside the living room the grey knit beanie was off and his ears were free.

“Better?” you asked, amused with his reactions.

“Good God yes.”

“Alright. Need me to show you to your room?”

Hoseok gave you, the look, as if he couldn’t believe that you just asked him that. The apartment was small but this wasn’t his first time here. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was able to smell his own scent lingering around from the last time he came over. “I think I can handle it from here. But thank you.”

Without even a struggle, he picked up his suitcase and maneuvered his way into the spare room. Last night you had cleaned it up for him, dusting the dresser and nightstand and putting on clean sheets. You even got out his favorite blankets that he loved to curl up with. They were heavy blankets that were soft to the touch along with a few others that your mother had knitted. It was the comfort of home that got him excited every time.

The squeal that came from the room informed you that Hoseok found the blankets.

Hoseok came out of his room sooner than you expected. Typically, he spent at least one weekend out of the month at your apartment - it was always so casually mentioned by Colin to Sue that they needed some time to themselves without Hoseok – and would take the time to unpack his clothes into the dresser and set his belongings out even if it was just for two days.

“It smells different.” He announced, frowning as he walked over to where you stood by the closet hanging up your jacket.

You sniffed once but didn’t smell anything different. If anything, you could still smell the buttercream scented candle you had burning earlier that morning as you got ready. “Different how?”

His nose crinkled as he walked around, sniffing every few steps. “Like someone else has been here. A hybrid specifically.” He came to a halt at your couch, bending over the arm only to stand straight up; his face contorting and a low territorial growl emitted from his chest. There had only been a few other times you heard Hoseok growl like that.

The first time had been a couple months after Sue adopted him. Taehyung, one of your friends who was also a hybrid, had been horsing around with Sue, and Hoseok had seen him grab her arm. His natural instincts to protect her instantly came out when he released the warning growl. When he realized they were only playing, he felt guilty. He had to train himself to not react so severely when their friends were around. After that, the only other times you heard him growl was when he was with you. He sometimes would do it to tease you, but it wasn’t an all the time thing.

“Who’s been here?” Hoseok slowly asked, his jaw clenching as he waited.

Blinking, you ran a hand through your hair as you thought back, trying to remember who’s been over in the last month or so. “I don’t recall,” you slowly answered. “Our friends but that was a couple months ago Hoseok.”

He shook his head though, his upper lip curling up into a snarl. “No. It’s not any of them. It smells of ferret and none of our friends are that breed of hybrid.”

“Ferret?” You repeated, this time frowning. Ferret hybrids had been considered one of the more exotic breeds but over time they fell into the domestic category.

Hoseok nodded, pacing around the living room, his attention going to your bedroom door. You never shut it but as he headed towards your room, you suddenly wondered why he was being like this. Then most importantly, if you had picked up the clothes that you had thrown around while trying to come up with an outfit this morning.

Totally normal thoughts of course.

Hybrids that you knew raced through your head as you tried to figure out who it could be that triggered Hoseok. Why would the scent be going into your bed…your cheeks flushed as that night quickly came to mind.

It suddenly became clear who he was smelling. It had been a blur but you remembered, or at least, parts of it. Johnny had been in one of your classes, he was a sweet guy who flirted with everyone, but no one gave it much thought. It was just part of his personality; he was harmless. When you first met him, you didn’t even realize he was a hybrid. His ears were small and easily concealed when he grew out his hair or wore hats, and he tended to tuck his tail under his shirt. He said it amused him when people realized he wasn’t human.

What had been a day meant to hang out and study for an upcoming test in your Literature class, took a turn for the worst. At least for Johnny it did. His previous owners had put him on medication for his heats and so he hadn’t experienced one in years. Now that his new owners decided to take him off it, he had been hit with a situation that he didn’t know how to handle. You on the other hand, while you weren’t a hybrid, you weren’t stupid. With the knowledge from your Hybrid 101 class - and stories from your other hybrid friends - you knew what was happening, and because you absolutely hated seeing anyone in pain, offered to help in any way possible.

Johnny had accepted without hesitation.

Hoseok’s growls echoed in your apartment as he breathed in deeply upon entering your bedroom where it was the strongest. His chest heaved as the other man’s scent invaded his nostrils. The sound of your racing heart hit him first before you timidly called his name, your guilt and embarrassment crashing into him.

“Who is he?” He harshly growled, his tail swishing back and forth in agitation as his hybrid instincts became the best of him.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. It had been a month ago. You didn’t think the scent would have lasted that long. “A friend from one of my classes.” You whispered, staring down at the floor.

Hoseok saw red as he turned to face you. “You mated with a ferret?”

The way he said it made it seem like an insult as you quickly shook your head and met his gaze. “No Hoseok. Johnny didn’t mark me at all, I promise. He’s never experienced a heat before…he was going to be in so much pain and I didn’t want him to suffer.” You couldn’t remember the last time Hoseok had been so angry, he was usually happy and went with the flow. Even with Colin he never acted out. This was a side to him you never knew existed.

He stared down at you, having the advantage since he was a good head taller than you. While your explanation made sense, and he knew you were free to make the choice to be with whoever you wanted, he couldn’t help these emotions that were overwhelming him. With your sweet scent filling his senses and the lingering scent of, Johnny, he was unable to think straight. He didn’t even understand why he was acting like this in the first place; he just was.

Hoseok growled in frustration, roughly running a hand through his hair. He needed to get rid of this scent. Staring at you, he suddenly moved towards you, tightly wrapping his arms around you and buried his face in your hair to breathe you in.

You were frozen. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to say or do to make this better for him. Nothing came to mind though. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he breathed you in until all he could smell was strawberry cream. With a shaky breath, he relaxed enough to lean back, the animalistic side calmed down to a point that allowed him to think. “Open the windows, just enough to get air circulation.” He spoke, his voice low and devoid of emotion. With one last sniff, he moved around you and walked into the living room and started to promptly open the windows.

You watched him move with stiff movements, having an idea as to what he was doing. To help relax him, you slipped on a sweater but went around to the rest of the rooms and opened the remaining windows. When you reentered the living room, he was sitting on the couch, shifting around every now and then. He gave a quick sniff and his face scrunched up again.

Hoseok was scenting your apartment.

With a glance in your direction, his eyes softened as he took in the way you tugged your sweater tighter around your body and the worry in your eyes. He whined a little, conflicted with how he was going to explain his actions. How was he to do that when he didn’t understand it himself? If he didn’t get rid of the ferret’s scent it was going to drive him nuts.

To an extent, you did understand. The rival smell of another man in your apartment, especially one he didn’t know, tugged at his natural instincts. But usually that only happened when a hybrid was romantically linked to the female. Hoseok wasn’t. Sure, he sometimes got a little protective of you when someone new came along, but he was like that with all of your friends.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee,” you softly spoke. “You do what you need to.”

You waited until he nodded, watching as he stretched out on the couch. Walking into the kitchen, you filled the kettle with water and was turning the stove on to heat it, taking a deep breath of your own.

Hoseok was your best friend. That was it.

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peter-parkouuuur · 6 years ago

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Chapter 11: She Moves In Her Own Way (Spider-Boy - Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

I AM THE BIGGEST PROCRASTINATOR I KNOW! Here is Chapter 11 of Spider-Boy.

This is mainly a filler-ish chapter. The major events will happen in the next few chapters!

ENJOY! (If you still want to read it of course, it’s been like a year since my last update. I really am sorry!)

Don’t forget to like (if you like it huhu)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

The whole family is eating brunch in the dining hall when Tony decides to ask Y/n about your relationship with Peter.

“So how was the afterparty?” Tony asks Y/n, eating a piece of his toast.

“It was fun…. Just a typical prep school party, but with no drugs involved, Happy and the rest of your security made sure of that.” Y/n reassures.

“Yeah? How was Peter last night? I figured since he was there with you, he probably had a miserable night with those trust fund kids.” Tony says.

“Who is this Peter and how come I’m the last person in this family to find out about him?” Denise questions.

“That’s not true, Eloise doesn’t know who he is.” Nico retorts, pointing to the little sister who is busy playing with her PB&J croissant.

“He’s-“ Tony cuts Y/n off.

“He’s my protege in Stark Industries, has a bit of a crush on Y/n.…. Speaking of which, how’s he treating you?” Tony inquires, taking a bite of the waffle on his plate.

“He’s a nice guy, dad. Surely, you would know that.” Y/n replies.

“Y/n, you’re only 16. You shouldn’t even be dating at all… You have your SATs next year before you know you it, you’re applying to ivy league schools or perhaps you’d want to move to Paris with me and study at Sorbonne.” Denise implies.

“Mom, it’s just puppy love…” Y/n reassures her.

“If it’s just puppy love, why don’t I just get you a dog instead? I don’t want to deal with you and Parker as a thing, and him being Spiderman is no good for you. Ask Pepper how she handles with the whole Avengers thing, it’s a complicated story, honey.” Tony states.

“The guy you’re seeing is Spiderman? Niiiice!” Nico laughs.

“Ugh…. Can we not talk about my love life, like… ever?” Y/n grumbles.

“So dad, how’s Pepper?” Nico asks.

“She’s doing great. I’m planning on proposing to her actually.” Tony wipes his mouth with the dinner napkin.

“You’re what?!” Everyone except the 5-year-old, Eloise, exclaimed in unison.

“Tony, why did you choose to bombard us with this story now?” Denise chastises him.

“I figured it’s the right time, Denise. I’ve hardly seen her these past few months. Besides, she’s amazing with Y/n and Nico, she’s their New York mom because their real mom is busy in Paris with husband number 2.” Tony argues.

“It is so not the right time. We’re having a post-birthday brunch, not a family meeting.” Denise hisses.

“I’m sorry, do you expect me to walk on eggshells every time we talk about something important? These kids know Pepper, she was their guardian at school when we were both busy with our jobs. I don’t need a lecture from Mary Sue.” Tony admonishes.

“ENOUGH. Dad already said it, we don’t need all this fuss over him and Pepper getting married. We’re happy that both of you are happy with your partners, you guys don’t have to remind us of your pre-divorce fights. It’s bad enough that Eloise doesn’t get to see me and Y/n this often, but arguing in front of her is something that you guys should definitely avoid.” Nico lectures their parents.

“I’m going for a walk.” Tony stands up and heads out of the dining hall.

“Dad, while you’re out there, can you buy me a pretzel?” Y/n exclaims.

“No Promises!” Tony replies.

“Y/n! Sweetie! You have a visitor!” Tony announces from the great room.

“Oooh! Is it Peter Parker?” Nico teases you.

“Shut up, Nico.” Y/n grumbles, throwing the dinner napkin on the chair before walking out of the dining hall.

Y/n sees Liz Allen standing awkwardly in the middle of the great room.

“Liz… What are you doing here?” Y/n asks.

“I uh… I just want to apologize…” Liz starts off.

“Apologise? Apologise for what?” Y/n’s eyebrows furry in confusion.

“For everything I did to you when I was still in Spence… We were the best of friends and I guess.. I was just a bit jealous.” Liz states.

“You do know that you’re like a few years too late, right?” Y/n crosses her arms.

“I know… I just wanted to get this off my chest before I leave for Oregon.” She looks down.

“Oregon? What are you going to do in Oregon?” Y/n questions.

“We’re moving there…. permanently. My dad doesn’t want us to be in New York during the trial.” Liz answers.

“That sucks… I’m really sorry, Liz.” Y/n walks toward her former friend and caresses her by the arm.

“There is one thing you should know….” Liz looks up to Y/n.

Y/n felt her ears ringing as if she didn’t know how to react. Something about Liz kissing Peter during their homecoming dance… she couldn’t feel herself moving.

It wasn’t something Peter had confessed to her when he barged in after defeating the Vulture. He knows that she gets sensitive when it comes to Liz, he could’ve told her about it.

“Oh… that’s fine. Peter and I aren’t even anything…” Y/n reassures her.

“Ohh… I sort of assumed that you guys had something going on… He felt uneasy with me the whole time we were together.” She replied.

“Maybe he was just nervous? Peter’s kind of awkward, not sure if you’ve noticed.” Y/n lies knowing full well that Peter told her about Liz’s dad.

“He is, that’s what intrigued me the most about him.” Liz just laughs.

“I just want to have a clean slate before I leave, you know? Thanks for everything, Y/n.” Liz puts her hand out for you to take, Y/n gladly holds Liz’s hand.

“Just don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll be fine. I’m sure Oregon has tons of Peter Parkers for you to kiss.” Y/n fakes a smile, letting go of Liz’s hand before standing up.

Liz feels the uneasiness radiating off Y/n by a mile. She knows how moody Y/n gets when someone pisses her off.

“I just…. I still feel bad for not telling you that I was transferring schools…. I mean it’s great that you have the three girls by your side when I was out of the picture.” Liz states.

“Why? Because they’re just yours to take if you stayed at Spence?” Y/n scoffs.

“That’s not what I meant… I’m sorry for being such a horrible friend.” Liz murmurs, Y/n not even bothering to reply.

“Well, I better go…. Take care, Y/n.” Liz stands up and waves at Y/n weakly.

Y/n does the same, waiting for Liz to head straight to the elevator. Y/n feels her brother standing beside her.

“Look at you inheriting Tony Stark’s sharp tongue.” Nico nudges Y/n by the shoulder.

“Shut up. Being a bitch is mom’s trait.” Y/n retorts.

Friday Night:

It’s been two days since Tony Stark announced his engagement to Pepper Potts, his former P.A., and the Socialite wanted to celebrate his engagement in a rather austere celebration, at the Rockefeller rooftop gardens. The celebration mainly consisted of Team Iron Man, a few of Tony Stark’s friends, colleagues and business partners, and a few of Y/n’s classmates from Spence.

“Pepper! Congratulations!! I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to text you the moment I found out.” Y/n hugs Pepper the moment she steps into the venue.

“Oh no worries, honey! You owe me a girls day out because I for one have heard about your father complaining about a certain Spiderman crushing on his daughter?” Pepper smirks at Y/n.

“Sachs and Bendel’s day it is! My dad is going to have a dent in his account” Y/n giggles.

“Look at my two favorite girls talking about a girls day that involves my money.” Tony wraps an arm around his daughter’s shoulder.

“Yeah. The two of us were planning to just shop, spend your money, and talk shit behind your back.” Y/n retorts.

“Language!” Tony admonishes you.

Pepper and Y/n look at one another knowingly. Captain America used to scold Tony or the rest of the Avengers whenever they swore and it looks like it might have rubbed off on Iron Man himself.

“Are you hearing yourself right now, dad?” Y/n questions.

“You’re right, I sounded stupid… my god.” Tony’s eyes wander off, realizing what he’s done.

“I’m gonna go look for my friends. See you later, old-timers.” Y/n shakes off Tony’s arm and heads to where her friends are standing, drinking Cristal champagne.

“That Peter Parker is going to be the death of me isn’t he?” Tony asks Pepper as the two trail their eyes on Y/n.

“Possibly. Better him than anyone else right? At least she’ll have a superhero to her beck and call who’s not her dad.” Pepper answers.

“Who am I kidding? She’s got me wrapped around her finger.” Tony sighs and looks at his daughter fondly.

The elevator door opens for Peter to see all the prominent people of New York gathered in one place, he tries to spot anyone familiar and sees Y/n talking to her friends.

“Peter! You’re here!” Tina greets him the moment he’s in their plain sight.

“Hi.” Peter just waves awkwardly at Y/n’s friends.

Y/n, on the other hand, is basking at Peter’s awkward nature, she finds it cute that he still gets flustered every time he’s with her friends from school.

“You could’ve told me you were coming. I would’ve picked you up.” Y/n hugs him, still feeling uneasy.

“You’d travel from 5th Avenue to Queens just to fetch me?” Peter inquires, knowing full well that Happy and your dad wouldn’t approve of it.

“Of course.” Y/n smiles at Peter.

“Excuse me, girls. I just need a moment with Peter.” Y/n smiles at her three friends who just nod their heads and walk away.

Y/n grabs two glasses of champagne and offers one to Peter.

“So, Liz stopped by before heading to Oregon.” Y/n starts off.

“Yeah? What did she say?” Peter asks, drinking from his glass.

“Oh you know, she just apologized for not telling me about transferring schools and all….” Y/n shrugs her shoulders.

Peter just nods his head, not really knowing where the conversation is going.

“She told me about your homecoming.” Y/n adds.

Peter tries to open his mouth to talk but nothing comes out, he doesn’t have an explanation for what happened.

“You could’ve told me about it. I wouldn’t have been entirely pissed. I just wish I didn’t have to find out about it from her.” Y/n tells him.

“I know. I’m sorry I never told you, but I swear nothing happened between us after that. Please believe me.” Peter pleads.

“Peter, you’re like the most awkward teenager I know, that’s one of the many things I like about you.” Y/n giggles.

“Just, no more kissing other girls, okay?” Y/n puts a hand on Peter’s bicep.

“Y-yeah… Of course.” Peter smiles at you.

Just when the two of you are about to kiss, Tony clinks his glass and everyone stops what they’re doing to look at him.

“Hello! I just want to thank everyone for being here to celebrate a special night for me and Ms. Potts here. Meeting and falling head over heels in love with her was the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He states.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel, dad.” Y/n mumbles.

“Well, there are exceptions. Three of those, being the birthday of my children, one of them is here right now, Y/n Stark. Where are you, honey?” Tony looks around and spots his daughter with Peter.

“There she is with her uh, date.” Tony stares at Peter before rambling on to the rest of the speech.

“Wow. I’m a date.” Peter chuckles.

“Would you rather, he introduced you as Spiderman or a random kid from Queens?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Peter mumbles.

“I didn’t even know they weren’t engaged before. I always assumed Mr. Stark popped the question years ago.” Peter looks at you.

“If there’s one thing my dad is always careful about, it’s timing. He’s always been good at that.” You reply.

“You actually turned my dad down? But I thought you always wanted to be an avenger?” Y/n asks Peter as the two of them sit down and share a plate of fries.

“Yeah. I mean, it would be awesome to work with your dad full-time, but I like being the friendly neighborhood spider-man.” Peter shrugs his shoulders.

“And how did he take it? I reckon, not well.” Y/n laughs.

“He was confused. As if I was turning down a Nobel Prize or something.” He replies.

“And you have no regrets turning it down?” Y/n inquires.

“I mean, there will always be an unanswered question, what would happen if I did take the job, but for now, I’m not complaining.” He answers.

“You are a very wise man, Peter Parker.” You nod your head.

“I like to take pride in my wisdom.” Peter jokes.

“You’re such a guy.” Y/n chuckles pushing him slightly.

“I will have you know that I am a man.” Peter sits up.

“Peter, you can’t even grow a stubble.” Y/n points to his chin.

“Those things take time.” He defends.

“Yeah but when puberty actually hits you, it grows immediately.” Y/n answers back.

“When I do grow a stubble, you’re gonna have to buy me a slice of pizza.” He wages.

“That’s going to take a while, won’t it? We have about, another 10 years for that, maybe?” Y/n retorts.

“You’re killing what’s left of my confidence, Stark.” Peter pretends to clutch his heart as if he’s hurt.

“What can I say? I make great tea.” Y/n takes a fry from the plate.

“What are you guys doing over here? The DJ just arrived! Let’s dance!” Tina grabs your hand but you don’t budge.

“T, I’m kinda beat. Go have fun!” You smile at your friend.

“Alright… Peter?” Tina asks.

“I’m good. I’m just gonna keep her company.” Peter smiles at you.

“You two are sickeningly sweet.” Tina just laughs before walking away.

“So I heard Ned got grounded after the party?” Y/n inquires.

“Yeah! But only for like a week. I think his mom was happier over the fact that he went to your party, than actually being upset over him coming home late.” Peter explains.

“Oh really? I should keep his name in our guest list then.” You giggle.

“I really am sorry about the whole Liz thing…. I just don’t know how to deal with female attention.” Peter reasons out.

“You’re doing pretty well with me.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s because I’m comfortable around you. You’ve iced my bruises and cleaned my injuries, like you’re used to treating wounds like a nurse or something-“ Peter mumbles.

“Not that it’s a bad thing, you’re just uhhh… You’re really good at making other people feel comfortable.” Peter adds.

“Look at you laying down the compliments tonight.” You chuckle.

“I guess, growing up with Iron Man, I’ve seen how he fixes himself, sometimes with Pepper and Happy’s help. Lately, I’ve been doing assistance for him. I love my dad and I’d do anything for him. Even if it means getting to see him beaten up or fatally injured. It all comes with the price of being Tony Stark.” Y/n sighs.

“Peter, I want you to promise me something.” Y/n looks at him.

“When you feel like you need help, tell me… or at least tell my dad. He’ll always be there to help you, you know that right?” You grab his hand.

Peter takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“I already have your numbers on my favorites.” He laughs.

“You’re such a dork.” You rest your head against his shoulder.

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grandmasterofwangxiancultivation · 6 years ago

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SV ch.56

LET THE MADNESS BEGIN. i hear that this chapter is painful?? ahahhahah *tries to think about the last non-painful chapter written by mxtx she read*

*fails*

EDIT:

Luo Binghe withstood it completely without making a single sound.

okay, so he didn’t run for his life. good, good start. AND WHY IS THE SYSTEM AWARDING HIM WITH COOL POINTS AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I LOVE THE SYSTEM. WE ARE THE SYSTEM. Situation:

lbh: *M*

sqq: ...

system: ★，°:.☆\(￣▽￣)/$:.°★

EDIT 2: right, i keep forgetting this chapter is angst, but mxtx is always ready to remind me

With a push of his right hand, Shen Qingqiu accidentally released a burst of spiritual energy that he was suppressing in his palm, and the ceiling shook as he smashed a uniformly shaped dent into it. The dust pattered down, and Luo Binghe covered him with his body, both of his hands grabbing onto Shen Qingqiu’s outer robe. He easily ripped it and laughed loudly. “Go ahead and hit me, in any case, I won’t die! This disciple will gladly endure Shizun’s teachings!”

(is this the pusher scenario luxury editon? STOP MAKING SOMETHING ANGST FUNNY OKAY, I’M FEELING CONFLICTED HERE.

like, sqq wants to make the place blow up and things go out of control and lbh shielded shizun with his body (from dust, CUTE)?? and then he just decides that shizun’s robe has to go away and rips it?)

But Luo Binghe didn’t give him any more time to consider tender affection; instead, he suddenly ripped apart Shen Qingqiu’s inner robe with one hand before he groped his waist, skin against skin.

Shen Qingqiu melted for a moment on the spot, before he immediately knocked Luo Binghe on the head with the hilt of his sword. He scolded, “You animal!”

Luo Binghe said with resignation, “In any case, I’m not even as good as an animal in Shizun’s eyes, so I might as well act like one.”

sqq’s heart replies to the situation, lbh is an incredible IDIOT, sqq mElTs FoR a MoMeNt because lbh is gRopInG hIs WaIsT- LBH, BABE, YOU ARE SO FREAKING BAD AT THIS and at the sae time this is both disturbing and cute, what am i gonna do with you both-

EDIT 3:

In the blink of an eye, Shen Qingqiu’s head was already hurting so much that it felt like it was about to explode.

(wHAAT THE ACTUAL FUCK)

There was something screaming, and as it shrieked, it felt like hands were reaching out at him from all directions, tearing at his soul.

(guys guys g u y s WHAT THE FUCK HIS GOING ON I’M GETTING SO FREAKING SCARED WHAT’S HAPPENING WHY IS SHIZUN’S HEAD HURTING SO MUCH IS THIS THAT ZHUZHUIZHUZHU’S FAULT, WHAT THE HELL HIS NAME EVEN WAS)

Luo Binghe said in a panic, “Shizun, I… I was only trying to scare you just then. Don’t take it seriously! What’s wrong?”

(BABY!!!!!! E IS WORRIED, BINGHE IS WORRIED AND SCARED ‘CAUSE SOMETHING IS HURTING HIS SHIZUN JUST LOOOOOOOOOOOOK

and that’s not how you scare someone, bad lbh)

Shen Qingqiu’s body thrashed and flipped around in his arms. Luo Binghe half-held him as he quickly used his spiritual energy to sweep through the inside of Shen Qingqiu’s body. There were clearly no abnormalities, but the sound of Shen Qingqiu’s screaming was indescribably mournful and terrifying, as if burning red brand had been shoved deep inside his brain. Luo Binghe used every method he knew, but still, nothing worked.

(omg i’m so scared what’s going on i’m honestly panicking so hard did i want to study after this AS IF omg omg omg omg WHAT’S WRONG WITH SHIZUN THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME)

As Shen Qingqiu’s pulse grew weaker and weaker, Luo Binghe started to shake slightly before his trembling grew stronger and stronger. Finally, he couldn’t prop himself up any longer, and he half-kneeled and half-fell onto his knees.

(I SWEAR I CAN FEEL LBH’S PAIN. GUYS I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS OKAY MXTX KEEPS DRAGGING THIS WITHOUT GIVING ANSWERS i know i should probably maybe just shut up and read butBUUUUUUUUT)

EDIT 4: WHERE THE HELL DID HE END UP, DID HE FAINT? DID LBH PUT HIM SOMEWHERE?

EDIT 5: is he in a coffin

EDIT 6:

Large amounts of fresh oxygen poured in, and Shen Qingqiu sat up abruptly, forcefully sucking in a few breaths. Only then did he discover that it wasn’t actually that fresh and felt more like the air hadn’t circulated underground for many years. Furthermore, it was extremely thin. When he lowered his head to take another look, he saw that he was actually lying inside of a coffin.

WHAT THE FUCK?! I AM SO CONFUSED-

did he... perhaps... go back to his previous body....... somehow......

After looking around in a circle, he saw that the walls were covered with paintings of demons dancing wildly, encircling him heavily in all directions.

The demon race’s Holy Mausoleum. Shen Qingqiu arrived at this conclusion.

THE FUCK WHAT THE HOLY MAUSOLEUM? did i guess right

i did, didn’t i? it’s his old body? and i was maybe right that it is zhuzhuzhuhz’s doing?

EDIT 7: OKAY, i’m gonna stop for a second just to point out that (yes i was indeed right about the first thing, wowow it was kinda obvious yeah good job let’s go one, stupid me) shizun. just. died. again. in. lbh’s. arms.

there.

just, yeah, i just wanted this fact out in the open, in case you haven’t noticed. or just to suffer a bit more, eh. okay, i’ll go back to the chapter.

He didn’t know what kind of expression Luo Binghe had right now while facing that withered, wilted body of his…

FUCK YOU OKAY? F U C K Y O U

EDIT 8: i swear, the nonchlance with which shizun keeps changing body... he is in a dangerous situation? he just jumps in one of his many spare bodies. what a comfy self saving system, truly

EDIT 9:

【Please note：You have now entered the high level instance “Holy Mausoleum.” The “Plot Hole Filling” mission has already been assigned. Please attack it eagerly and take initiative of your own accord.】

NICE. so i guess from now on things are gonna be even more different than the original novel, and maybe shizun will realise that he is no bystander anymore? THIS IS SO TRILLING!!!

EDIT 10:

This was the lowest-level demonic creature, and one of the guards most likely met in the Mausoleum: the Blind Corpse.

The Blind Corpse’s name had the word “blind” in it, but it wasn’t actually lacking any eyes. In fact, it had several more pairs than other monsters, grotesquely squeezed onto its face.

(EW. EWWWW. okay so the are strange things in the demon realm, I WOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT. shizun will surely manage to avoid them and get out of there and meet the person who brought him there -cause he is that lucky, right?

AFTER ALL THE PAIN ANF FATIGUE WE ENDURED BETWEEN A BINGQIU MEETING AND ANOTHER, WHY ARE THOSE SO BRIEF AND FULL OF ANGST?!!?!)

As Shen Qingqiu thought, a Blind Corpse stumbled closer, and he slipped to the side. Unexpectedly, a faint flame ignited in the darkness.

(SHIT)

The Last Breath Candles used a living person’s breaths as fuel, and as long as something or someone alive went near it, it would light up by itself.

this is so insanely smart i don’t know if i should congratulate with mxtx or laugh histerically

EDIT 11:

The material this coffin was made of was actually much more solid than the one that he was just lying in. Shen Qingqiu thought, Could there be someone inside? He knocked against the lid of the coffin. “May I borrow this to hide in temporarily?”

He was originally just blurting something out, but unexpectedly, after he knocked twice, a voice actually responded from inside.

The voice was clearly coming from inside the coffin, but it was as crisp as if it was right next to his ears, not muffled in the slightest. It seemed to carry the hint of a laugh. “Please help yourself.”

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO FREAKING CREEPY WHAT THE HELL I LOVE THIS MAUSOLEUM, IT’S LIKE A HAUNTED HOUSE!

EDIT 12:

But amidst the melee, the sound of dark hissing suddenly came from outside of the mausoleum hall.

i bet it’s zhuzhzuhzuz I BET-

#svsss #sv #sv novel #the scum villain’s self-saving system #the scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #sv fangirling mode #sv ch.56

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starspatter · 6 years ago

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Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 11

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,380 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Also on ff.net and AO3.

There was a time when I was alone Nowhere to go and no place to call home My only friend was the man in the moon And even sometimes he would go away, too

-Ruth B, "Lost Boy"

————————–

Before.

“Batman, wait!”

Robin was too late; Batman had already charged ahead by ruthlessly breaking down the door to the house with the sole of his boot. A low-key villain calling himself “Cluemaster” (whom Robin had incidentally never heard much of until now compared to the likes of Riddler or Joker, having supposedly gone “straight” for a couple years – at least according to Batman) had led them on a lengthy chase, and they ended up pursuing him all the way out to a small neighborhood in the suburbs. As they infiltrated the dwelling, Robin hastily checked around to make sure no homeowners were present who could be caught in the fray – or worse, taken as collateral.

Fortunately the room was empty, aside from their glaringly orange-clad target in the middle of it, reaching for one of the plasti-glass pellets attached to the front of his costume. Batman had already anticipated the move though and launched forward faster than the other, lurching a blurred glove into his opponent’s throat, which caused him to drop the canister as his body was slammed hard against the wall.

“You’re under arrest for multiple counts of grand larceny, Cluemaster. Or should I say, Arthur Brown?”

With his other hand, he grasped at the bandana covering the lower half of the man’s face, which had already come loose from the force of impact. He jerked the rest of the kerchief off to expose a snarl under the guise, the owner evidently infuriated by the idea his identity had been so easily discovered.

“Now, where’s the money you stole?”

Arthur sneered.

“Why don’t I give you a clue to its whereabouts, and you can figure it out yourself, since you’re so smart?”

Batman growled as he grabbed his foe’s collar, lifting high into the air, letting free-dangling feet flail frantically.

“I don’t have time for these games. Either you tell me voluntarily, or I’ll make you confess.”

Robin was getting anxious by the aggressiveness in Batman’s tone; making threats of violence wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but he’d been out of sorts all night, acting excessively and extremely hostile, leaping into enemy territory with heedless disregard to danger – to himself or those around him. Sans his usual sangfroid. He was starting to sound like that time Scarecrow dosed him with a gas that took away all his fear, resulting in Batman almost taking a henchman’s life. It had taken all of Robin’s strength to haul him back up after Batman cut the line…

The current captive seemed to be getting panicky too, as he quickly changed his attitude, appealing to sympathy instead.

“Listen, I’ve got a wife and kid. They’re asleep upstairs. I just needed the cash to help support them. We’re in a bit of a financial jam, y’see…”

Robin’s conscience wavered, recalling the time they had to prevent a penniless man from holding up a drugstore in order to obtain medicine for his daughter, who was simply sick with a high fever. Of course this was theft on a much greater scale, but he still couldn’t help having some lingering empathy – especially based on his own past experiences dealing with poverty.

“That's one of the hardest things about this job, Robin. Sometimes we have to stop someone from doing the wrong thing for the right reason.”

“…Daddy?”

As if on cue, all three revolved towards the top of the staircase, where a young girl with golden curls – probably about his age – was standing in bare feet and violet nightgown, beholding the scene before her with baffled eyes, big and blue and broad.

“Darling, why don’t you go back to bed?” Arthur choked out, his own eyes bulging as cheeks turned indigo as well. “You’re just having a bad dream.”

“Arthur? What’s going on here? I heard a loud noise…”

Robin swallowed as a woman emerged from behind the adolescent, gripping the girl’s shoulders as she drew her daughter in protectively, eyeing the pair of home intruders with fear and suspicion. The situation was steadily turning from bad to worse. He hurriedly bounded up the steps, trying to block at least the shorter one’s view with his arms and cape, acting as both shield and shroud.

“Both of you should stay back…”

Batman’s prey put on a pleading, pathetic look.

“Now now, you wouldn’t hit a guy in front of his family, would you?”

While his quivering lips pouted, his pupils seemed to flash triumphant. Robin felt a sick chill in his stomach. Had he set this up just to take advantage of innocent citizens – and his provider status for them – as an alibi?

Whatever the reason, Batman wasn’t falling for it. While he slowly lowered his fist, he continued to glower viciously at his victim.

“I’m still taking you in. The police will be here soon, they can interrogate you. And if you don’t admit to them, well…” He leaned in close, crescent slivers narrowing. Intimidating. “They’ll just have to call me.”

With that, he twisted his prisoner around, pressing head harshly against partition again as he slapped a pair of handcuffs on. Robin sensed the two frightened females peering over his shoulders, crying and clinging to each other as sirens started to wail outside, and the junior one almost looked like she was about to join them. He thought about reaching out to try and comfort her, but a cold bark from Batman halted him.

“Let’s go, Robin.”

“But Batman-”

“Now.”

He was already halfway out the side exit when he said this, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Robin bit his lip and vaulted over the railing to race after him, cloak whisking out of sight just as officers began filing in. As they headed back towards the Batmobile parked in the shadows close by, Robin hissed his irritation.

“You know, there were a million other ways you could’ve handled that.”

“I did what was necessary in order to get him to talk. The police should have an easier time of it now.”

“Yeah, but did you have to do it while his wife and child were watching? This is exactly the reason Nightwing left you, remember?”

Batman blatantly ignored the bold declaration of disapproval as his pager began to beep: a message from Batgirl, requesting backup.

“Armed robbery in progress, escalated to a hostage situation over on the north side. We’re needed.”

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

Batman brusquely cut him off.

“We’ll discuss this later, at home. Now get in the car.”

Robin grumbled, but grudgingly obeyed.

They never did discuss it though. Concurring collectively, both Batman and Batgirl determined there were too many hired guns in the building, deeming it far too “risky” to bring Robin – the “kid” – along. …Plus it was a school night. So Batman swung swiftly by the manor on the way, dropping Robin – Tim – off unceremoniously at the front gate despite loud and adamant protests, where Alfred was waiting to pick him up and march him straight on inside to get changed and ready for dinner.

“And ‘don’t forget to do your homework’,’” Tim mimicked Bruce’s reprimanding voice with a querulous whine as the vehicle sped off, leaving him in the dust. “God, he still treats me like such a child.”

The butler patted his charge’s back consolingly, ushering within.

“Come along, Master Timothy. There are cookies and cocoa waiting for you inside – after you finish with your studies, that is. We wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite, now would we?”

Tim shot an exasperated expression at the patronizing statement, but acquiesced. Upon entering, he immediately tore off the mask and tossed it on the table in frustrated anger, flopping sullenly onto the couch without even bothering to remove the rest of the suit. Alfred tutted, but made no remark as he disappeared into the kitchen, promising food would be served shortly.

As Tim gazed at the fireplace, he stewed over Batman’s earlier reckless – not to mention downright rude – behavior. How could he even be so cruel and insensitive? It wasn’t just the bossing around that bugged him, but he was genuinely rather troubled by Bruce’s mental state. …Truth be told, he had a guess as to the cause for callousness. He’d noticed a common trend in increasing indiscretion (and intractability) after their latest visit to Arkham, when they stopped by Two-Face’s cell following another escape – and subsequent suicide attempt. Ever since he’d developed a third personality who judged himself guilty and sentenced to death for his sins, his condition had been gradually worsening. It was to the point he – and his coin – had to be kept under constant watch and isolated lockdown.

Tim was never really sure how to feel about Two-Face (in the same way his chest was always confused and ached a little whenever he faced Clayface). The man murdered his father; Tim supposed he should hate him for that. In addition, he’d even once mercilessly electrocuted Nightwing with a wire taser, forcing the senior superhero’s heart to completely stop. …Had he not promptly administered CPR and literally brought his brother back from the brink of death, he might have lost another family member that day.

But, according to Dick, Bruce and Harvey had been good friends once – which explained why his guardian always bore a grieved semblance whenever they went up against Dent. …Tim tried to imagine what it must be like, to watch one’s once close companion fight a losing battle against himself. Clearly it was taking a capricious toll on the old man’s emotional and psychological well-being as well, making him far more mercurial and volatile – prone to violent vagaries.

Yet, even Tim recognized that didn’t excuse him taking it out on others, especially when it interfered with their work. (Frankly that didn’t seem to be the only thing distracting recently either, given Batman and Batgirl had been ditching him more and more often as of late, citing his “immaturity” as pretense. …But he didn’t really want to think about that right now.) He was concerned about that girl as well. Screw Batman, he should’ve stayed to try and talk to her. At least give her some reassurance after witnessing such a harrowing event.

Making up his mind, he snatched his domino from the counter and was out the door (cautiously evading the security cameras he knew were watching overhead) just as Alfred came to call him for dinner. Upon finding the parlor empty, and after exhausting all other options of where the lad might have gone to within the mansion (including underground area), the caretaker finally murmured in alarm.

“…Oh dear.”

…

It took Robin longer to get back by grapple alone, but eventually he made it to his destination. Descending on the rooftop from a nearby tree, he tiptoed towards a single annexed dormer window which jutted prominently from the tiles. Testing the lucarne’s latch, it luckily wasn’t locked and slid open with relative ease. Silently slipping in, he was greeted almost instantly by an unpredicted punch to the face.

As he was thrown flat onto the bed, survival instinct triggered to roll over and try to fight back, but his own fists arrested when he saw his assailant was the same girl from before, glaring at him with mistrust.

“Who are you?! Some kind of creepazoid stalker?”

“Whoa, whoa! It’s me, Robin. You know, from before?”

She stared at him, realization dawning.

“Oh. …Sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”

The way she said it, she still didn’t seem very impressed.

“…I’d hate to be someone you were expecting,” Robin muttered, rubbing at his sore jaw.

She folded her arms firmly.

“So? What the heck are you doing here? Again?”

“I- I just wanted to check and see if you were okay, after… all that.”

An eyebrow raised.

“And you thought coming in through the window was the best way to go about it?”

“…In hindsight that might not have been the best plan,” he acknowledged, repentant. “Sorry. Being with him tends to rub off on you. I apologize if he scared you earlier. He’s really not a bad guy.”

She exhaled, letting her limbs down.

“No, my father is, right? …It’s okay. I know who and what my dad is. He deserves to go to jail.”

Robin cocked in confusion at this unanticipated acceptance.

“But… He’s still your dad.”

“Yeah, and I hate him.” Her knuckles clenched, tightening. “He just wanted to use Mom and me to get away with his crimes. We’re basically just tools, a means to an end for him. He’s a total class-A jerk.”

Robin blinked, unsure how to respond to that. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for this outcome. An uncomfortable hush filled the chamber, which he idly noted details of as he glanced around nervously. He’d never actually been in a girl’s room before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He supposed the piles of stuffed animals and boy band posters were probably typical, though he was surprised to see some large prints of Superman lining the walls, and a bulletin board covered with newspaper clippings of Batman and Robin – mostly his predecessor – busting the Cluemaster’s previous petty heists. She apparently wasn’t kidding when she said she had it in for her father. (…The image felt almost eerily familiar, reminding of the days when he kept a similar chronicle in a corner of his own pops’ apartment, much to the old man’s displeasure.)

“…You’ve got weird taste for a girl,” he mused aloud.

“And you’ve got weird fashion sense for a boy,” she retorted, nose wrinkling.

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit,” he huffed defensively.

“And who did? Your mom?”

Robin winced a bit, but bit his tongue. “…Would you believe me if I said Batman?”

She sniffed. “I mean seriously, what’s with that getup anyway? It’s so bright, it makes you look like a clown.”

Fed up with her criticism, he started to skulk back towards the outlet again.

“Look, I didn’t come here just to be insulted.”

A hand reached out to clasp his wrist, and he rotated to see her regarding him sincerely.

“Sorry, I was just joking. …You don’t have to leave.”

He gulped, blushing a little at the light touch. The last time a girl held his hand like this for so long, she’d followed with a…

“Um, okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, growing tense as she inclined forward and grinned – before passing him by to hop onto the sill instead, sticking out her tongue at him.

“Ladies first.”

He whirled around in shock as she stepped out over the ledge.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? That’s dangerous, get back here.”

“Relax, I do this all the time. Besides, you jump around rooftops every night, don’t you?”

He impulsively climbed after her, keeping a careful eye on her footing, hovering close behind in case she fell. But, true to her word, she did seem to have practiced this pattern many times before, effortlessly picking her way over the slates to the top, where she plopped down and petted the spot next to her. Indicating invitation. Tentatively, he took it and traced her wondering sightline to the stars above.

“…You know, I used to dream I’d see the Batman someday. Drifting across the moon, dark against the night sky…” She hugged her knees to her breast. “This is the first time I’ve actually seen him in person. For a second, I almost thought he was a monster.”

Robin remained quiet as she continued.

“But, my dad’s the real monster. I know he’s hurt a lot of people – myself and Mom included. He doesn’t care about us at all.”

“How come she doesn’t just divorce him?”

“She can’t afford a lawyer to kick him out. He still owns the mortgage on the house.”

She smiled bitterly, drawing circles on the shingles.

“As a kid, I used to think about running away. Getting on a plane and going somewhere far, far away from here. Someplace exotic, where no one knows who I am or where I come from – like Africa. …But, I could never do that to my Mom. She’d be lonely if I left. Even though she has some… ‘difficulties’, I still love her.”

She looked at Robin, who was still listening attentively. Patiently.

“Sorry,” she mumbled in a slightly sheepish manner. “I’m just making you sit through my random rambling. I don’t usually get a chance to talk to anyone about this, let alone someone my age. Having a lame, insane supercriminal for a dad isn’t exactly something I can tell all my friends at school.”

“It’s all right. I wish there was more I could do to help…”

He replied, feeling as utterly useless – hopeless – as when he came across a bunch of homeless youths in his hunt for Annie after they’d gotten separated, the ragtag group of street rats sleeping together on a filthy mattress in an abandoned shelter; huddled under each other for warmth, sharing but one thin, dingy blanket between them. (…The kind of neglected kid he could’ve easily ended up as had he not happened to be so lucky, to be “chosen” – caught before he slipped through the cracks into faded obscurity and was overlooked – forgotten – by society.) There were some things punches and kicks just couldn’t fix.

“You’ve already done more than enough, thanks. I’m grateful to you both for putting a stop to him. …Even if it’s probably only temporary.”

“There has to be something that can be done though.”

“Really, you don’t have to go out of your way or anything. Besides, why do you care so much anyway?”

He shrugged, surveying the distance. “Maybe it’s because you kinda remind me of someone.”

She scanned his wistful countenance, scrutinizing closely.

“…Was she cute?”

“What- no. I mean yes. I mean, uh-” Robin stammered, flushing red as he was abruptly taken aback by the unexpected inquiry. She giggled in snorting amusement at his oh-so-obvious reaction.

“Relax, Boy Wonder, I’m just teasing you.”

He coughed, regaining composure.

“To be honest, that’s not the only reason. My dad wasn’t much of a prize either. …Although he can’t compete with yours.”

“Ehhh?” She gaped at him in astonished awe. “But he’s so cool!”

“Huh?” He puzzled for a beat, then it clicked what she was talking about. “Oh, you think that Batman’s- no, he’s not my real dad. I’m not even sure I would even go so far as to call him much of a ‘father figure’ actually. He’s more like a… mentor?”

It was her turn to listen as he ruminated, reflecting.

“He saved me though. Took me in when I had no place else to go. Gave me a second chance. I’ve… done things I’m not exactly proud of either. If he hadn’t found me, I’d likely be dead or in jail myself right now.”

Sensing a buzzing interruption from his waist – a warning summons from the butler no doubt – he consulted the timestamp in the corner of the display, and cringed upon calculating how much interval had elapsed in his absence.

“…Speaking of which, I should probably get back soon. Batman’s gonna kill me once he finds out I’m gone without letting anyone know.”

Her forehead creased with contriteness.

“You didn’t have to go that far for me…”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. It’s the least I could do.”

She looked reluctant to end the conversation though. He wondered if he was the first person she’d ever been this open to about her feelings. …After some thought, he fished around in a pocket and pulled out another spare backup communicator.

“Listen, don’t tell anyone about this; Batman doesn’t like me lending out tech. But if you ever need anything, you can get in touch with me on this. I’ll come as soon as I can. …Only if it’s an emergency though. He’ll really give me an earful if he finds out I’m using our gadgets for personal stuff.”

She looked down at the device in trepidation.

“Is it really okay for me to have this?”

“Yeah. It’s no problem, don’t worry. I know how to keep a secret. And I’ll definitely stop by again sometime, so we can hang out some more if you want. Whaddya say?”

Her eyes lit up, and- without warning, she flung her arms around him in an appreciative hug (that very nearly knocked him off balance).

“…Thanks, Robin.”

His hue embarrassed again, but he gently reciprocated the gesture.

“Hey, what are heroes for?”

After an awkwardly long minute, she propelled back from the embrace with a self-conscious laugh. Once the rapid beating in both their ribs had calmed down (and she’d surreptitiously wiped some tears from her face), she afforded him a somewhat odd look.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… Calling you ‘Robin’ feels kinda weird. It’s like a girl’s name.”

“Hey, it can be a boy’s name too,” he sulked in indignation. “Besides, at least it is a name.”

She shook her head, concentrating intently on him as she contemplated. After a bit, she brightened with sudden brilliance.

“I know! I’ll call you ‘Peter’ – since you came in through the window. …And ‘cuz of the tights.”

Robin blanched as she pointed playfully at his leggings.

“…I think I’d rather be called ‘Robin’.”

“Nope,” she cheerfully announced. “You’re ‘Peter’ to me now.”

Robin sighed, but didn’t object further to the nickname. It wasn’t like he could tell her his real title.

“Fine. ‘Peter’ it is then. …Does that make you ‘Wendy’?”

She smirked with a wink.

“If you want me to be.”

He blinked, clearing his throat as he stood up, almost stumbling over his heels as he backed up in haste.

“Right. Well then. Wendy. …Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See ya.”

“…’Kay, bye.”

“’Kay, bye.”

He waved as he fired his grapple into the branches and swung away, and she merrily returned the motion. Elated, Robin’s spirit soared over heightening city structures back to the estate, performing as many flips and tricks as he could on the way. …Although come to think of it, he had failed to ask for her actual name. …Oh, well. There was always next time.

Rather than directly approach the porch or cave entrance, Robin thought about endeavoring to sneak back in through the second-story opening to his own bedroom, so he could pretend he’d been there all along. …Unfortunately, as soon as he’d made it inside and detached his façade, he bumped straight into a severely stern-looking Bruce towering over him.

“Where the devil have you been? We’ve been trying to contact you for the past hour. Barbara’s out there searching all over for you right now. Meanwhile I’ve had to help Alfred double-check every secret room and passage in the manor. Do you know how long that takes?”

Tim merely shrugged.

“I went out for a stroll. Is that a crime?”

“In this house, it is. Do I need to start putting a tracer on your utility belt again?”

“No, sir,” he squeaked meekly.

Bruce heaved a grunt.

“Just hurry up and go get changed, young man. Your dinner’s cold already. Alfred made soup. Make sure you apologize to him too, he’s been worried sick.”

“Yeah yeah, I hear ya, old man.”

“And did you finish your homework?”

Tim flinched. He knew there was something else he’d forgotten.

“You had better get to it if you want to come patrolling with us tomorrow night.”

“I will.”

Before he vanished into the privacy of his enormous closet (which, in his own private opinion, was way too overly spacious – though no one would certainly hear him complain), Tim paused, calling softly back over his shoulder.

“Bruce.”

“What?”

“Thanks… for caring.”

…

About a month later, a couple men dressed in black arrived at the Brown residence, carrying grim, serious auras and stiff briefcases containing various important-looking official documents. An obstinate Stephanie insisted on sitting down alongside her mother on the sofa as they discreetly disclosed the news she never once conceived she’d get to hear like this:

Her dad was dead.

Apparently he’d cut a deal while in prison, and became a part of something clandestinely known by a select few outside those in power as a “Suicide Squad”. He’d perished while on a covert mission for the government, and – according to these strange men’s confidential report – he’d died a “heroic sacrifice”.

Stephanie didn’t know how to react. What to feel. …How she was supposed to feel.

As she sat in her room, trying to write in her diary but coming up blank, her observation shifted to the window still left ajar each evening, through which a mild breeze blew. Opening her desk drawer, she retrieved the hidden miniature handset from the far back, tucked neatly behind all sorts of stationery. She had avoided using it up to now, afraid of coming off as an annoyance. …But she hadn’t seen Robin at all since then. No one had. Based on what she’d gathered from growing gossip, he’d been fully MIA over the course of the past few weeks, and rumors were starting to spread. It was like his existence had been entirely erased, simply evaporated off the surface of the earth. …She was worried about him too.

She pushed the button, hands shaking in mounting apprehension as she elevated to her ear.

There was a long, low hum of crackling static, before someone (presumably) picked up at last.

“…”

“Hello?”

“…Who is this? How did you get access to this comm line?”

“I’m… a friend of Pet- Robin’s. Is… he there?”

An extensive gap stretched.

“There is no more Robin.”

The pronouncement was deep. Disturbing. Definite.

“Do not contact here again.”

With a final click, the other end hung up.

She tried, repeatedly – desperately – to dial back – but the machine seemed to have been remotely disconnected. Slumping forward in defeat as she let go the last potential link – lifeline – she buried her face in her sleeves, and burst into sobs.

At length, she dried her sniffles and rose, dragging her feet to the wide frame. Casting one last look of longing out at the pitch gloom, she shut the pane. …Shutting out pain, and all the brief memories associated with it.

…

She never saw Robin again.

————————–

He sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe Believe in him and believe in me Together we will fly away in a cloud of green To your beautiful destiny As we soared above the town that never loved me I realized I finally had a family

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #Happy Father's Day #for some reason I can't seem to insert a horizontal line anymore?#so please excuse the slight change in formatting

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melyaliz · 6 years ago

Text

Night Person

Fandom: Yu-Gi-OH

Summary: All the best things happened to Amie at night.

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x OC

Notes: Ok so @speedypan reminded me of my TOTAL and UTTER love for Yugioh. Honestly, I have both my DC fanfic revival and now Yuigoh credited to her. Just wait, soon I’ll be bringing back Avatar and Naruto soon 😂😝

Like as we speak I am working on re-editing my old series and posting it on archive but I figured I could post some of my NEW stuff here? I promise I am still working on Nancy’s second part and @werewitchling’s Charlie request :P Life has just been rough and I guess Seto calms my nerves (weird)

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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Amie was a night person. She had her best ideas late at night, her breakthrough on projects, and adventures late at night.

Honestly, she hadn’t thought too much about it but her best moments happened at night too.

-Thursday 10:32pm-

Everyone was gone. Most of the lights were off. At least they were in the rest of Kaiba Corp As for the animation lab, everything was still bright and cheery.

WHY?

Because Amie was still hard at work and she was NOT about to be stuck in some creepy Freddy Kroger style office. If she had to stay late to cover her idiot co-workers the world around her better be bright and cheery.

A large soda at her side and music blasting in her ears while she tried to get the Dark magician’s hat just right. It just wasn’t folding the way she… wait, was that a kid?

Glancing over their screen she blinked again before rubbing her eyes. Contacts starting to dry out. Honestly, she should just go home but she was sooo close. Maybe if she just…

There it was again.

Leaning out of her chair she studied the doorway. Ok, now she was getting slightly creeped out. This was some Chucky style shit. Glancing back down at her screen she clicked save several hundred times on her project. Never can be too safe. Then glancing up, her brown eyes locking onto a pair of dark blue ones.

“Uhhh Hello child of the corn.”

“What?”

“Nothing… are your parents around”

The boy laughed shoving his hands into his pockets. “Are you new?”

“Yes… oh fuck… I mean fudge… oh, fudge. Sorry... Mokuba right?”

“That’s me.” he shrugged waving his hand at her apologetic smile, “It’s kind of late why are you still here?”

“Because of the hat from hell.”

“What?”

“Why are you?” change the subject, no point in bitching about the design issues with the big boss’s kid brother. Would he be considered the Big kid? The small boss?

“Because my brother is a work-a-holic.”

“I feel it.”

Mokuba walked over to her screen glancing over at the screen studying her work, “looks good to me.”

Amie couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah but that hat.” clicking the space bar the small magician started to move making the hat flip in rather unrealistic movements causing Mokuba laugh.

“It looks like… it looks…”

“Oh yeah, I’m very aware...”

“Well can I hang out with you while you work on it?”

“Only if you tell me about your day, I like listening to things while I work.”

“Well you’re in luck, I happen to be a GREAT storyteller.”

-Friday 11:53pm-

It was late and Amie was just finishing up. That total complete moron Jeff had ONCE again spectacularly destroyed the files they needed to get to Seto that Monday for the pitch.

And instead of staying and cleaning up his mess the wonderful oh so hard working moron ditched saying something about “having to go.” Amie was about 90% sure he was just going to see his girlfriend and probably get an early start on his weekend.

Something Amie had hoped to do. But no, instead she was trapped cleaning up his mess working well into the evening.

“Fuck that guy,” Amie grumbled to herself as she walked down the halls holding her 4th mug of coffee hoping that would jump-start the creative process for her. Although it was really just helping her brain come up with a million ways she hoped Jeff would suffer for his idiocracy. Maybe some burning diarrhea or maybe he would get a HUGE dent his beloved car?

“What are you still doing here… wait…”

Amie winced as she paused looking up from her thoughts to see the CEO himself Seto Kaiba. The only time Seto had bothered to pay attention to Amie the intern was when her brother had faked her submission to get her in. After that, he had never sent her a second glance.

Which was good because she was too young for this position and if anyone found out she was NOT a college student she could lose this opportunity of a lifetime.

“Yes Boss Dude?” she muttered glancing up at him from under the dark black bangs of her work wig.

“Don’t I go to school with you?” Seto asked taking a step closer, his piercing blue eyes studying her. Ok, it also didn’t help that Amie found the dueling champion super hot. Like not in a “we’re soulmates” kind of way but more of a “You’re eyes make me nervous” sort of way.

“If I say yes will you fire me?”

“Humm” he studied her for a moment, “Why are you here so late?”

“Just finishing up the prototypes for the pitch on Monday.”

“And your supervisor couldn't do that?”

“He had a hot date.”

“Then no.” with that he turned and walked off.

“Wait!” a weird rush of confidence came over it. Maybe it was the 4th cup of coffee or the fact it was almost midnight and she had been listening to Paramore on repeat for 3 hours. Regardless of the reason, her command made Seto pause glancing back over his shoulder, “If you fire me then I can go home and if the images aren’t perfect it won’t be on my conscience?”

At that moment a million puppies died as hell froze over because… Seto cracked a small smirk.

“Make it perfect and I’ll promote you.”

“Deal.”

-Tuesday 9:06pm-

Tap tap tap, Amie hummed along with the Supremes as she tapped her stylist on the table waiting for the computer to render. She was oh so close to being done. A stack of science books next to her because she also had a quiz tomorrow she may or may not have studied for.

“Jeff ditch you again?” A voice broke into her song as the rude voice pulled an earbud out.

Lucky for this intrusive voice Amie had a soft spot for him.

“At this point, I would be annoyed if he didn’t,” she said spinning around in her chair which caused her headphones to unplug the song blasting across the editing bay.

“What is this?” Mokuba asked raising an eyebrow. Amie let out a gasp.

“Mokuba! Don’t tell me you have never heard the Supremes!”

“Nope. It sounds kind of… Chick”

“It’s very chick. They are in love with love, listen.” clicking on You Can’t Hurry Love she started swinging around in her chair to the music.

“I guess it’s ok…”

“Chair dance! Grab a chair”

“Ooookk” Mokuba knew better than to argue with Amie once the clock passed 8:45. That was when she had her third cup of coffee and the weird ideas started.

Three songs later Mokuba and Amie were rolling in a very impressive choreographed routine across the isles of computers screaming “I Want You Back” By the Jackson 5 at the tops of their lungs.

“Good to see there is a lot of work going on in here.”

Amie laughed turning to see Seto leaning the door frame, “Are you the only one who ever stays late?”

“I would say yes but you are here.”

“I’m here too!” Mokuba said scooting his chair next to Amie reminding her that he was, in fact, also there.

“Yeah, but you don’t work here, just make everything better.”

Mokuba laughed flipping his thick black hair, “I do don’t I.”

“Well, It’s time to go,” Seto said nodding toward this brother. Mokuba nodded getting up pushing his chair back to its rightful desk. “And Amie.”

Dear God, he knew her name… did the world just stop spinning or was that her heart? Amie wasn’t sure if it was that annoying crush on his pretty blue eyes or the fact that he was basically her boss and had the power to ruin her animator dreams.

“Go home, the project will be there tomorrow.”

Ok, the world really had stopped, had she somehow entered some paralleled universe? Had THE Seto Kaiba just told one of his employees to STOP working? “Uhhhh, Yes sir.”

Mentally she kicked herself as she slowly rolled back to her desk feeling her cheeks heat up. Mokuba watching her as she quickly saved the project before closing down her computer. Shit girl, could you get any weirder?

-Monday 10:17pm-

Nothing had changed yet everything had changed.

Amie had quit last week. Jeff had blamed her on the whole project crumbling and when she stood there in front of a angry Seto she broke. She didn’t deserve this. She worked harder than anyone else at this fucking editing lab and had covered that dick weed’s back so many times and he just threw her to the flipping wolves.

I mean SURE Seto Kaiba’s rage was probably the most frighting thing Amie had EVER seen in her life but even facing his dragon size temper she wouldn’t have thrown a teammate under the bus like that.

She didn’t deserve this.

Which is what she told Seto.

He had stood there wide-eyed in pure shock. No one had EVER quit Kaiba corp before. With the best pay and benefits, there was a reason people put up with the companies CEO.

But not her.

She had been done.

Until the famous CEO showed up at her apartment door telling her that he needed more people like her on his team. People who cared about their craft and did this because they loved it not because of the money or prestige of it all.

So goodbye Jeff and hello personal editing lab.

This didn’t mean she still didn’t have late night because… well, nights seemed to be her magic time.

A cup of coffee slid into her peripheral. Glancing over Amie almost had a heart attack seeing Seto standing over her desk.

“You just jumped almost a mile.”

“Well, you just scared the hell out of me.”

“Mokuba will literally rip your headphones out of your ear and you will not flinch.”

“But I’m expecting him…” Amie bit her lip trying to find the right words as she took the coffee taking a sip her dark brown eyes not leaving Setos, “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” he said taking a chair and sitting down next to her.

Well fuck, there was NO way she could work with those blue eyes watching her. And at this close range, he smelled good too. Of course, he would smell good, he’s a rich CEO he probably bathed in Versace. She, on the other hand, probably smelled like coffee and insecurity.

They both sat in silence for a moment then Amie turned to him, “Do you want me to like explain where I am or something?”

“If you want.”

“Helpful”

“Pardon?”

Shit, did she just say that out loud? Whoooops. Maybe she could quit again?

“Uhhh I mean… well at the moment I am coming up with color pallets for each character. Like what shades we want for them so that regardless of who is animating the character they will always look the same.”

Seto nodded as he watched her click through the files copy and pasting the code into a document before going back to the Coral Dragon she had been working on adjusting the shades trying to brighten up his wings just a little bit more.

“I would add more undertones of red”

You can’t say no to the boss, so she pulled up the color wheel moving it, “Like that,”

“Just a bit more… yeah there.”

“Ohhh I like that. Guess you’re the boss for a reason.” Amie could feel his eyes on her but for the first time, she didn’t feel so tense like maybe they had just had a breakthrough. Bonded? Maybe just a little.

Mokuba found his brother and Amie a few hours later still in Amie’s new office going over characters. Seto pointing out changes and Amie suggesting ways to make it work. Both of them seemed to relax and just working in harmony that Mokuba didn’t want to bother them.

It was nice to see his brother actually enjoying himself.

-Friday 11:11pm-

“No stop touching!” Amie snapped swatting away Seto’s hand as he tried to direct her on the computer. It was already very late and everyone else had left for the day but Amie had stayed trying to fix the editing issues they kept running into. Her pink hair pulled up in a messy bun several pencils lost inside the mess. Must like her mood at the moment.

“You are doing it wrong”

“No, you are just messing me up being this close”

“I don’t see how me being close would mess you up, just do your job.”

“It’s the blue eyes.”

“What?”

“They need to be at least 5 feet away from me,” Amie said turning to look at her boss who was only a few inches from her looking over her shoulder trying to direct her work on the new dueling virtual game. This seemed to be happening a lot more. Seto popping in and not leaving. Normally Amie didn’t hate it but today… today something was just bothering her about how close the CEO was to her.

Seto turned slightly as if he finally realized how close he was to her. Something she had been feeling all night.

“Then again they are pretty nice this close up.” Amie snickered coffee brain kicking in. Words she was thinking seeming like a good idea said aloud.

“Are… you flirting with me right now?”

“Wait you haven't been?” Amie laughed deciding to call him out, “You had your arm on my shoulder for like 20 minutes telling me how to do my job while we worked on the graphic for the points counter.”

This caused Seto to pull away. Amie felt her stomach clunch. Shit, shit she had just made things super awkward. Deciding to just play it cool she turned back to her screen, pushed some loose strands of her hair away from her face.

She continued her work trying to ignore the mess of butterflies in her stomach until they all lept and died at the feeling of a hand on hers. She turned, confused about to ask what Seto was doing only to have him kiss her.

Soft and sweet. A little clumsy as if he really didn’t know what he was doing but he was confident in it. She found it funny how confident he was really. It was one of the things she liked about him. How confident he was. That and how dorky he was. Her confident dork.

Leaning forward she kissed him back trying to fight back the smile that was on her lips.

They were never going to get this project done in time.

Yep, Amie was a night person. How could she not be when all the best things happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#seto kaiba #Seto Kaiba oc #Seto Kaiba fanfic #Seto Kaiba reader #Seto Kaiba x oc #Seto Kaiba x reader #Amie #manic pixie bitch girl #my writing #my fic #Yugioh fanfic #yugioh oc

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