#it has lead to many accidents and broken stuff in the house | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Remedy | JJK x Reader | 💜☁️🔞🤖

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Android!AU, Android!Jungkook, AI!Jungkook

Warnings: mentions of war, PTSD, Panic attack, confused!Koo, soft reader, like my god I just wanna put her in my pocket and keep her safe, aka that’s what Koo wants to do, protective!Koo, praise kink, unprotected sex but izz fine Kookoo can’t knock her up anyways, soft sex, it’s very soft ngl, there’s a bird, some sad Koo, kook cries here and there, comfort and rehabilitation

Summary: JJK, Or J-Jungkook097 was a tactical fighter-type Android, used in modern war as a simple weapon and nothing more. Now retired after serious injuries, he has to adjust to modern life outside the war zone or he’ll get scrapped; and that’s where you come in, a rare human being ready to take on that challenge.

"Ah, what a waste, really." A worker says, looking the body of the Android over. "You sure you don't want him?" He asks, and the older worker shakes his head.

"I can't let him around my kids by himself, and I don't want him to snap around my wife either. He's not suited for my home and family." He says, looking the male robot over, before he pulls out his phone. "I think I know someone who just might take him." He says, hurriedly texting, before he gets a call back.

"Huh. Is he factory reset, or still running?" You ask, as Seokjin connects cords to the back of the android's neck.

"We tried to have him reset himself, but there's been problems." He explains. "He told us he did already, but that can't be true since he'd need a command to do it- his model isn't equipped with those AI options. Maybe his memory overloaded and deleted stuff as a survival protocol, we don't know. He's a military model, after all, they didn't let us see his original save data- they just downloaded it and went their way, leaving him for us to dismantle if he couldn't reset him properly for a new system." He says, as you type in some stuff, before viewing the screen you hold in your hand.

"So he's technically still running on his original warzone-system?" You ask Jin, and he nods, sighing. You furrow your brows, and the older male looks over at your tablet to see what you're looking at. "Are you sure? This is.. his AI settings are all set to.. look at this; companionable, friendly, all his settings are set to a companion-android, not a fighter type." You mumble, confused by this.

"Wait no no no that wasn't like that when I last looked at him." Jin says, taking the tablet from you as he types in some stuff. "Huh. This is weird." He says, showing you something. "Look at the protocol."

You do. "Huh." You say, looking at the last line of code.

Last change made by: JJK_OSADMIN

"He changed his own system." You say, and Jin is standing up now.

"I'm taking him with me, I can't let him-" He starts, but you do as well, placing your hands ontop of the Androids chest as if you're guarding him.

"NO! I already signed, I own him- Jin, I have to look into this- and he's set to friendly, he won't get hostile that easily." You try to reassure him, and he sighs after a while, taking his jacket from the chair close by.

"Keep me updated." He says, as he leaves you be.

The Android still sitting limply on your chair.

"Alright JJK. Time to wake up." You say, closing the small panel before you sit in front of him, waiting for his system to run the commands you had typed in before unplugging him. It takes a moment, but there's movement after that; his body slowly starting to sit properly, muscles moving into place, and system running it's diagnostics to detect any change in hard- or software made. It marks down his eyes, the small patches of skin re-made, and that his body-liquids had been replaced.

He feels good.

His eyes open slowly, iris moving and focusing in Various degrees before they meet your form. "Hello." He simply says. "Are you my new owner?" He asks, and you nod, expecting that question. He's not been factory reset, which means even though his memory was scattered, and his system had been changed, he was still aware of everything vital. He nods, before he looks around. "I'm now supposed to run on the companion protocol, correct?" He asks, and you shrug. He's confused, as you suddenly smile at him.

"I don't know." You tell him. "Companion, Individual- what would you like?" You ask, knowing it will bring his current system to it's limits. He's not made to make decisions like that, and you think it's quite endearing to see him suddenly think like that.

"I.. choose?" He mumbles, before he looks at you seriously. "I'd like to be given a small time frame to properly research before I come to a conclusion." He says, and your eyes widen.

You look at him, still friendly as ever. "So, you want to figure out what you want first?" You ask, and he nods, a bit hesitantly. "Okay. Just tell me when you've made up your mind then." You say, and he nods.

"What are my daily tasks?" He asks, and you shrug again. "This is frustrating." He says, and you laugh at that.

It's weird to hear it. But he notes it down as a positive response from you.

"Just don't burn the house down while trying to cook or something." You joke, and he seems to take it seriously.

"Why would I set your home aflame while attempting to cook? I'm not even capable of either task.." He says, and you get up, grinning.

"Don't worry so much. Just properly charge for now- we'll see what's gonna happen as it happens." You say.

He nods.

Jungkook knows that around 75% of fatal accidents occur in a mere household. He also knows, that a regular home is the safest place to live. Yet there he was, on the floor, holding his ears as an attempt to block out the sound of his nightmares. "Jungkook?" You ask, as you turn off the microwave. He's still shaking as you sit down in front of him, close- but not touching, unknowing if he would react to that negatively or not. "Can you hear me?" You ask, and he hesitantly retracts his hands from his ears, letting the sound in again. The beeping of the microwave is now gone, only the soft ticking of your clock on the wall and the buzzing of your fridge remain. "I'm sorry that scared you." You say, smiling apologetically as he shakes his head, face serious. His eyes move frantically as they glow an orange hue, showing his system status.

"No, I should apologize." He says. "I don't know why I displayed this reaction to a mere household object." He admits, and you open the microwave to take out your meal, before sitting down on the kitchen floor. "You shouldn't do that- the tiles are very cold-" He starts, but you wave him off.

"Its fine. Both." You say. "You're probably still confusing some sounds and things with your past use as a warzone model. So it's normal- your system has to adapt. You have to adapt." You say. "We all need some time to heal after what you've been through." You say.

He sits quietly after those words, watching you as he goes through his research on you. You're a very unusual individual, displaying a lot of behaviors he hasn't seen before. You take care of everything with a sense of care that makes him come to the conclusion that you're probably treating the machines and robots like living beings. Such as the oldschool robot-dog that he's seen under your living room table. It's currently charging, but he's seen you interact with it- genuinely displaying happiness and excitement at the very basic AI of the pet-robot that's missing a leg.

Its broken, just like him. But you're taking care of it, just like you take care of him.

You're very caring with him, too. He's seen you search for skin patches that match his color almost perfectly, even though they were more expensive than the usual models found in stores. You apologize for 'hurting' him, even though it's sometimes nescessary to repair him. You ask him about opinions, and let him roam around freely around the house.

You're a very friendly person.

And he, unknown to you, starts to create new files inside his system.

You're not there when he wakes up the next day.

He scans the house for any movement, but there is none that would lead him to the conclusion that you're there. There's no sign of you, and he becomes frantic, suddenly.

If his system would've worked properly like it should have, he would've remembered that you had told him yesterday that you would make a small trip to the local grocery store around the corner. But his system isn't working properly, already displaying several scenarios of you getting hurt, or vanishing, or leaving him alone.

He’d seen it before, so many times, hell; he’d been the reason of so many deaths in the first place and it never bothered him. So why was his internal system going absolute haywire at the mere idea of something happening to you? It was to be expected really- with how fragile you are, mentally and physically, it was bound to happen at some point. So why, if he knew it deep down already, did it make his pulse race and his skin feel weird?

You’d told him to stay home, but there was no way he’d be able to let you out of his sight. Because no, there were no emotions involved; they’d been restricted for him at the beginning after all, he was simply looking out for you. Probably a bug, maybe his system thought you were someone to be protected, a new mission to keep him occupied, that was probably it. It wasn’t because you had been so sweet with him, it wasn’t because of how gently you were in correcting him whenever he did something bad, it wasn’t because you were an absolute divine being in his eyes.

“Kook?” You said, an almost painful huff of breath escaping you when he crashed into you, holding you, his arms squeezing you a bit and his face burying itself into the crook of your neck, every sense drinking you in, saving the proof that you were okay, you were real, you were completely fine. “I-“ you started, and his eyes ripped open, suddenly realizing that he may be hurting you. As if burned he reacted, hands hovering over your shoulders as he looked you over.

“I apologize, I’m so sorry, does it hurt bad-“ he spoke hurriedly, eyes already glazing over with tears he didn’t even knew he could shed. Why did he suddenly feel so upset? His entire system was overloading, tears finally flowing and disrupting his sight so badly that he didn’t see your face anymore; sending him into panic even more. “I’m sorry- I’m-“ he pressed out, but there was nothing working anymore it seemed.

Only a few minutes later did he slowly come back to his senses, first thing he noticed being the way you held his body close, softly speaking to him while you were petting his head. It was such a weird sensation, yet it somehow soothed his mind back, as he realized that you were both on the ground. He was way too heavy, why were you doing that? But when he tried to get up, you held him tightly. “Take a Moment, Jungkook. You’re okay, I’m okay, just a breathe, yeah?” You said, and he nodded. “Let’s go back inside then yeah?” You softly said, and he nodded.

“But you need to buy groceries. We don’t have sufficient stock of-“ he started, but you giggled, the sound something he knew he liked. He didn’t quite know what to think of his newly found preferences for things, but he simply let it happen for now.

Because liking you could never be a mistake, he decided.

He calls out for you one day, his hands holding something you can't see yet. His eyes are wide open, his optics moving around frantically as he calls again. "Creator, please!" He calls, as you finally spot him, walking over as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Please- I don't know what to do. She flew against our window and probably has a concussion- you can help her, right?" He says, and you don't get curious as to why he immediately knows the birds gender and diagnosis; he can scan the tiny body, after all.

"Ah, come into the kitchen." You say, and he follows quickly, still delicately holding the tiny body in his palm, careful not to drop it. "Lets put her in a box and a nice quiet place, yeah? She'll recover on her own probably." You reassure him as he watches you place her in an old box without a lid. "Put her where you found her, okay? That way she'll know her way back easier." You tell him, and he nods, determined, as he walks back towards where he had found the bird.

Jungkook, in a way, was slowly changing nowadays.

He was a curious being, always eager to learn about the most mundane things. True to his purpose he picked up on things very easily; learning how to draw and paint very quickly. He had recently gotten interested in a video game you used to play before your work took over your time- and you loved seeing him have genuine fun with it.

He wasn't doing things anymore because they were asked of him. Or because they were an order.

He was developing hobbies, you'd noticed.

Of course you kept Jin updated about all of these things, and he had been happy to learn that his reboot was going well- joking around that he was glad he hadn't killed you in your sleep yet. And while, at first, you were quite wary of him walking around the apartment, nowadays, you couldn't imagine Jungkook even hurting a fly.

Just like with that tiny bird.

He was a gentle soul, simply a bit clumsy sometimes- apologizing over and over after breaking your alarm clock once, the alarm setting off another one of his 'episodes'- moments of flashbacks he got from his past purpose in war. You had reassured him and had let him watch as you fixed it again, praising him along when he gave you the right tools.

Praise. That was something he seeked as well.

And it wasn't just that he wanted aknowledgement of his own achievements. It was more your attention that he wanted. He wanted to be around you whenever possible, even sometimes dancing around the topic of maybe sharing a bed one day- but he had also been wary of hurting you in your sleep, by rolling over or something alike.

Always so thoughtful.

But he would be able to hold you that day; when you had complained about being tired, he had suggested a nap to you. Instantly taking on that chance, you laid down, rolling over as he was still on the couch with you, already having laid down prior. He was unsure at first where to put his hands, until he decided to just go for the common human way of affection; holding you close.

And he made a note inside his system, that he truly deeply enjoyed the feeling.

He finds you on the couch, crying, after an argument on the phone. That in itself isn't the issue he's having, however- it's the sudden wave of protectiveness rolling over him, drowning his senses as he walks over to you, his orange glowing eyes now scanning your form. "What did he do?" He asks, knowing that it was a former partner of yours, constantly calling you asking for money. It's a bad habit of yours that you can't seem to say no; and now that you did for once, he had bitten your ear off with bad remarks and names you'd rather not repeat. "I'll hurt him, just say the word. He needs to feel the same pain you do-" He's shaking a little, you can see it now; his hands unsure where to place themselves, his eyes watching over you, his breathing a little faster. He starts again, and you put a hand on his shoulder to stop his words.

“Jungkook no, he didn’t hurt me in like, a physical way.” You tried to explain, tears now forgotten as you try to calm the Android on your couch down- still absolutely terrified by your state. “I’m gonna be fine.” You say, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Or is it something else?

“But why am I hurting?” He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. Well, why was he? Technically he was capable of understanding emotions, that wasn’t shocking. What was confusing to you however was just how he was able to share your pain. And it was obvious he did; the way his eyes glistened and his body shivered, overwhelmed by whatever was happening. “Why does it hurt to see you hurt?” He almost whispers, lost with the situation.

Jungkook was indeed a very weird android- you’ve noticed that long ago already. He was emotional, sometimes moody, and slowly began to develop an actual personality the more he was living with you.

Something his model shouldn’t be capable of.

And maybe that should scare you- maybe that should worry you, maybe you should call up support for answers, but you don’t. You do what’s best for yourself and what you think is best for him in that moment; you lean forward, and wrap your arms around him. And it doesn’t feel at all like an android you’re hugging in that moment, because an android wouldn’t cry with you. An android wouldn’t hold you like this, wouldn’t tremble in your hold like this. It makes it easy to forget that Jungkook isn’t human.

And that in itself is absolutely dangerous.

Somehow, his system had bypassed the blockade to his emotional capacities.

He had noticed it ever since you had been out to restock groceries by yourself, but he had been a little unsure back then. He now knows, for sure, that something had happened.

It was confusing, to say the least.

So many things were somehow suddenly starting to fall into place for him; his favoritism to being close to you, or his system failing whenever you weren't nearby. It also makes sense that he's standing right in front of your bedroom door that night, knocking as you open it. He feels a weird sense of protectiveness seeing you tired and vulnerable like that, and he sits down on the side of the bed where you join him. "Is everything okay?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

Nothing is okay, everything is confusing, and he's unsure what to quite think of all of this. "I feel.. confused. Scared. There's.. fear, in me, boiling up and interrupting my thoughts." He explains, and you nod.

"Feeling is scary, huh?" You ask, as he looks at you.

"How do you do it?" He asks, and you lean your head a bit to the side in question. "There's.. so much of it. How do you.. separate it, keep it in order? Its all over the place, and it's.. so distracting. Its so overwhelming- I can't seem to calm down." He mumbles, serious face turning frustrated as his fingers play with the fabric of his pants.

"We don't." You say. He looks at you for a moment, before you continue. "We just.. let it run through us, I guess. If you don't, it'll make you sick after a while. " You say, and he looks at you.

"But.." He starts. "I fear I might start to display reactions a male android model isn't supposed to openly display." He almost whispers.

"You don't have to openly do it." You reassure him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before moving a bit, body facing him as you open your arms. "It's just me; and I won't judge. You can be whoever you want with me, Jungkook." You say, and he lays down next to you in your arms, momentarily enjoying the quietness and closeness of the affectionate gesture.

"There are no bad feelings, Jungkook." You tell him, and he listens, as he lets them run through him, just like you told him. The sadness, the comfort of your body against his, the.. adoration he feels towards you. Everything, even though it hurts him, physically, something he only ever thought was a artistic way of describing emotions. "There are only wrong actions." You say. "If you feel the need to cry, cry. If you're angry, scream, shout, or find something to channel that into. But if you bottle it up-" You say, "they will lead to mistakes. They will bring pain, and they will bring remorse."

His voice is strained as he talks. "But how do I know when to act on them, and when not to?" He says, and you chuckle.

"You'll learn, Jungkook." You reassure him. "You'll learn."

And he nods against your shoulder, before you can feel him shake a little less, quiet sobs racking through his body until his exhausted body falls asleep to charge.

"Remarkable." Jin comments, as he watches the lines and lines of codes. "He has started to self-code his own system. He's quite literally learning." He says. "All by himself. This is amazing." He says, before he disconnects Jungkook.

"He's still a bit jumpy sometimes, and the microwave is still his worst enemy-" You say, as Jungkook reboots again, eyes slowly focusing as they start to glow again. "But he really is amazing." You say, and Jungkook beams at that, proudly smiling.

It's rare for an android to display such emotions, and he's still often very much void of any clear visual feedback in terms of facial expressions- but he's learning, and he's evolving, growing, in a way. Seokjin closes the panel on the back of Jungkooks neck, as the android stands up to walk closer to you. "Jungkook." Jin says, and the android turns towards the young man. "Do you look after her well?" He asks, and Jungkook nods. "Make sure she stays hydrated during the day, yeah? I highly doubt she's told you she struggles with that." He says, and you whine, as Jungkooks head whips around, eyes scanning your body as he furrows his brows.

"Creator, you need to drink at least 2.5 Liters of water per day. It's vital for your health, which is already very delicate." He says, and you glare at Jin for telling him anything about that.

"I'm fine- and also, please don't call me creator. I'm not anything like that." You say, picking up the walking puppy-robot as Jungkook nods.

"What should I call you then?" He asks, and Jin perks up.

"Call her baby!"

"Jin NO-!"

"No matter what she tells you-" Jin says, holding Jungkooks shoulders as he looks at him seriously. "She likes it." He says, and Jungkook, serious as ever, nods, noting it down, as you groan.

"I hate you both!" You say, and Jungkooks eyes widen.

"You.." He says, voice almost not heard over the laugh of Jin. "Hate me?" He asks, and you immediately regret your words. Jungkook still hasn't figured out sarcasm yet- the entire concept still a little too complicated for his system to grasp, so you walk closer to him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

"No no no, I don't, I could never-" You promise him, as he nods with already glossy eyes. "I just said it as a joke, okay?" You say, and he nods again, biting his lip a little before Jin clears his throat.

"I'll head off now." He says, already putting on his coat. "Thank you for letting me see him- it's really amazing to see him grow like that." He says, and you nod, giving him a short hug before he leaves.

And for some reason, Jungkook feels jealous, watching you so close to him.

Jungkook is in love with you.

He's come to that conclusion all by himself, and he's proud of it, but he's also very unsure about it. He has done a lot of research, scanned every source he could find and validate; and he has found a new interest in activities humans do in relationships to show their partner love and affection. He's not stupid, he knows what intimacy is, and is also aware that he's capable of doing these things with you; but he's also a little unsure, if you'd want that.

After all, there's nothing he could give you.

So one night, he stands in front of your door again, knocking, as you open it.

"Do you think.." He starts. "I'm capable of love?" He asks, and you look at him. "Because I think.. no, I am very sure I love you." He admits, and you get up, but there's no stopping him. "I don't know what it's like for you, but I have observed my newfound emotions, and there's a pattern I've detected; whenever I'm with you, around you, whenever you give me attention, or when you touch me, theres always the same emotions involved; there's this need to take care of you, to keep you safe, to be close." He rambles, and you listen to him as he talks, walking closer to you as his hands find your shoulders. "There's this.. urge, to partake in human intimacy with you. I want to.. show affection the common way, like kissing you, or holding you, things like that." Your cheeks grow a little red. "But I don't know if you are experiencing the same things. My research shows that.. that we could only do these things, if it's the same for you." He says, and then, almost as if hes whispering. "Is it?" He asks, and you struggle to answer. "Do you.. feel the same.?" He asks again, waiting for you to say anything at all.

You stay silent.

Its a sunday when a letter arrives at your home.

When you open it, there's several papers inside; Jungkooks personality tests, official papers that make it possible for him to leave on his own. When he reads them, he's serious, as he watches you smile at him.

"Jungkook, this is great, isn't it?" You say, trying hard to not let it show that you dread letting go of him. "You can finally get an apartment- maybe make something out of your talents, and earn a living. You're free to go now." You say, biting the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"But.." He starts, softly. "I'm yours." He states, and you shake your head, swallowing hard.

"Jungkook no.. you're you. No one owns you anymore." You say, and he suddenly shakes his head, throwing the papers in the kitchen sink as he walks towards you, his hands on your shoulders.

He looks at you, serious, as his optics focus on you. "You were the one who told me that every machine should be treated with respect." He states, as you look away from him, his hands shaking you a little as he tries to get your attention back on him. "You said even we androids have souls." He says.

"I did, but-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"And if we do, if we really do-" He speaks, his hands now holding your head, his face drenched in desperation. "Than it belongs to you." He states, and your eyes widen. "It's yours." He repeats. "If having it for myself means I have to leave you, I don't want it."

"I don't.. want to take advantage of you, Jungkook." You say. "You're.. everything is still new to you, I don't want you to regret this-" You start, and he leans down.

"I won't. I've run every possible scan I could, calculated every possible outcome, you know I can't lie to you. I could never regret this.." He says, as he leans down a little. "Can I..?" He asks, and you smile, jumping over your own shadow in a way, as you give him a nod. "I.. can you.. say it?" He asks. "Just once?"

You take his hands in yours, as you lean closer. "I love you, Jungkook." You say, and he gasps, his systems going absolute haywire in the best ways possible. He's again filled with emotions, but this time, they don't hurt; they make him feel light, as if he weighs nothing, they make him close his eyes because suddenly even the slightest light is too bright for his optics.

"Again." He asks, and you comply.

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you."

He sighs, as his lips finally meet yours.

There's no magical fireworks or anything like that- but Jungkook decides that he doesn't need these things. The feeling itself, the emotions flooding his body are enough to outshine any beauty of reality itself. There's nothing he could ever compare to this, he decides.

He's unsure if Androids have instincts, but in that moment, for the first time, he doesn't care. This seems to be one of those situations to let his emotions run through him, lead him, show him what to do, he decides. His hands roam over your skin, ears catching every sound you make as he moves on autopilot it seems. He's letting go, he's finally doing something he really wants.

And it's all thanks to you- you've given him the chance to be himself.

You've given him the gift of feeling loved, as he finally comes as close to you as lovers ever could; entering you carefully, senses on high alert as he feels your walls around his length. He had been unsure of why pleasure seemed to be described as fun and intimate, but now he can relate to these claims fully. He's so full of love, so overwhelmed, that he simply rests his forehead on your naked shoulder, eyes closed as he simply lets himself feel. He doesn't care about his whines and groans, only focusing on you and your body, on the feedback every muscle sends to his systems, enjoying the way you make him feel.

Its truly magical, he notices.

He doesn't even notice his nor your orgasm at all, but it doesn't matter.

Because at the end of the night, he finally holds you close. Not like before, but this time, as lovers.

"I've given her exactly 0.26 milliliters of a 1 to 1 water and fruit sugar mixture every day at appropriate times." Jungkook seriously tells the vet, as he looks at the bird on the metal table.

"I see. Good job." He praises, before looking at you. "A warzone-type?" He asks, and you nod. "Barely noticable. I have one too, that's how I knew." He comments, before he turns to Jungkook again. "I'd say the bird simply likes your company, Jungkook. She just want's to stay with you That's why she comes back." He explains.

"Like me and Baby?" He asks, and you giggle at the nickname Jungkook keeps using.

"Yes, like you and her." Namjoon says, utterly entertained by you and Jungkook. "So I'd say let her be around. She's perfectly healthy, otherwise." He says, and Jungkook turns around, box in hand, as he smiles.

It's quiet that evening, sun slowly setting and drenching the walls of your shared apartment in a golden glow. Jungkook watches your sleeping form, leaned against him on the couch, as he simply remembers all of the things he's experienced because of you.

He truly is a machine capable of love.

Because you taught him how.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #Android Jungkook #robot Jungkook #bts reactions

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

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The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 3 years ago

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looking for some really well written multi chaptered characterization. its the most important thing for me. if you have any favorites to recommend. let me knowww !!!!

LYNNE Start in Lynne’s Top Klaine Fics and here are three excellent suggestions: A Summer Story by Kb.Ellen When an injury forces Kurt to take the summer off from his dream job as a principal dancer with the NYC Ballet, he's anxious to recover and get back to life as he knows it. But can a tiny town in southern Arkansas, a joyful aunt, a town full of good-hearted people and an intriguing local handyman make Kurt reassess what his dreams actually are? Welcome to Cassville. ~~~~~ Headway ‘Verse by BlaineyDevon “The accident took a lot of things from Blaine, but it never touched his ability to love.” Snapshots of Kurt and Blaine’s life together, unconditionally loving each other despite dealing with lifelong consequences of a traumatic brain injury. ~~~~~ The Muse by @the-cimmerians An AU that shamelessly thieves giant pieces of plot from Anne Rice’s novel Belinda. Blaine is thirty-four. Kurt is sixteen. Stuff happens (not exactly the same stuff as is in the book, jsyk). Read at: AO3 or LJ or Download the [PDF]

MARJAN Too Late by zavocado When Blaine came out at sixteen, everything changed. Fifty years in the future, sixteen year old Kurt is still hiding himself away, lost in the misery of a friendless high school life with only the memories of a dark-haired, kind boy who helped him when his mother died. A story of lost chances, saviors, and how love transcends the limits of Time. soulmates!Klaine, AU ~~~~~~ Glass Houses by JennMel In an alternate universe, all babies are born with a level of empathic sensitivity to others; an ability to sense emotions, to glimpse deep into a person's soul with just a kiss. Except Kurt Hummel. Registering at a mere 0.5 on the Hawkins Scale of Empathic Sensitivity, Kurt has resigned himself to a lonely life, empty of touch or true love. That is, until the mysterious Blaine Anderson transfers to McKinley, and everything Kurt thought he knew was changed. But finding love is never easy, even in a world where everyone’s emotions are shared. This is the story of the boy who could not feel, and the boy who felt too much. ~~~~~~~~ sure like never before by @redheadgleek Prompt from Spaceorphan18: "It’s the holiday season, so flight attendant Blaine returns a package that a little girl accidentally left on a flight. Naturally, this leads to him spending Christmas at the little girl’s house and falling in love with her dad Kurt." HKVOYAGE Scenes During the Break Up by misqueue A collection of vignettes set in season 4 across the time in which Kurt and Blaine are broken up. Not in chronological order. For the Klaine Advent 2013 challenge. Stories are consistent with my The Architects of Life canon 'verse. ~~~~~ Down on the Corner by flowerfan AU after Season 5/ Alt!s6. Blaine went back to Lima after the breakup, but Kurt stayed in New York. They do in fact reunite on the corner outside the loft in six months, but it doesn't go as either of them expected. Over the course of the next year, Blaine struggles to find himself, and Kurt struggles to find Blaine. And while they both realize that love doesn’t necessarily conquer all, they discover that it definitely helps. ~~~~~ Near Misses by flaming_muse This story is AU from within 2x06 ("Never Been Kissed"), with many of the broad strokes of canon remaining except where I thought they would be different because of the AU or other factors. Near Misses itself takes place in Blaine's first year of college, starting about a year from now. There are some spoilers through 3x22 (“Goodbye”). My note: many of the author's fics are canon compliant and have great characterizations.

#klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #fic finder #anonymous #multi chapter

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rfadaydreaming · 4 years ago

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the rfa playing minecraft

oh the chaos a mysme minecraft server would bring ♡

jumin

• does not know how to move in any direction except straight

• keeps falling into caves because he just… walks

• stands there in the dark for a few seconds to process what happened

• “the game broke, i cannot see”

• yoosung is like wtf how is it broken

• cave noises start to happen

• “h elp”

• seven has to track him down and it takes absolutely forever just because jumin does not know where he is… not even a hint... he was just walking around

• finally seven finds him and brings him up with a fishing pole, but when he finally gets him up, they both get blown up by a creeper

• “i don’t like this game very much.”

• has a house with v because there’s no way in hell he’s about to share a home with zen

• their house is actually so cute, modern on the outside but super cozy and cute on the inside

• here’s some reference pictures of what i think their house would look like !! starter home / end game home

• his room is so naked omg v comes in and adds a desk, some pictures, plants, just to make it more homey

• has so many cats to the point where it lags HEAVILY when you enter his room, it’s just a giant barrage of meows

• his playstyle is fishing, taming cats, naming cats, fishing again

• he gets lost in the boats so much though, you have to come save him because he’s stranded in the middle of the ocean

• you show up and there’s a cow stuck in the back of his boat, he’s starving to death, the phantom is killing him

• but the nice part about fishing all the time is he gets really good loot and enchantments so he’ll give them to whoever wants them since… well he doesn’t really need them

• except zen omg he gives him like. chain link boots, seaweed, paper

• zen breaks into his room and takes whatever he wants though because jumin doesn't know how to make a locked chest

• he’s honestly just here for the vibes, he’ll lay on his bed even when no one else is sleeping and listen to what everyone’s talking about in the voice chat

• you cannot even see him on his bed because it’s just a sea of cats + a drop in frame rate the second you open up his door

zen

• he’s so bad with technology so he has to read the tutorial like three times before he plays

• takes awhile to get used to the controls so he’ll stop walking, jump over a block, pause, keep on walking

• it’s cute to watch actually

• he follows everyone else around and likes to pretend he knows what he’s doing? but really doesn’t

• beats the shit out of jumin for just existing

• gets stuck in a village well and silently flips out because he’s too embarrassed to ask for help

• jumin finds him and they just stare at each other in silence… jumin figures out how to hit him one singular time before running away

• he lives in a dirt home with the green top for so long it’s actually embarrassing

• inside is just a torch, furnace, crafting table, basic bed and chest literally just a straight mans home

• it’s so ugly

• v tries to spruce it up a little because he just does not like to look at it… every time he walks by he gets the ick

• jaehee eventually adopts him out of pity and they live together, but she has to do all the hard work

• their house looks like this

• he mooches so hard oh my god she’ll spend an entire day cycle mining only for him to take all the iron and make himself a silly little outfit

• she never complains though because he’s really appreciative about it

• will give her little flowers in exchange for outfit materials

• and of course gives you flowers just because you’re you

• leaves them in a pot in your room with a sign that has a little winky face

• is always changing his clothes, every time he wakes up he changes into something different

• jaehee works so hard to find diamonds for him so he can be the first to have some diamond armor

• seven kills him the second he steps out of his house and snatches it from his dead corpse

• zen’s playstyle is just following everyone else around and pretending to help but he doesn’t do much, being sweet to jaehee and you, annoying jumin

• he gets bored easily so he doesn’t play for very long :( also gets mad at jumin and rage quits omg

yoosung

• absolutely loves minecraft and he’s been playing for years, he’s really good at it!!

• so sweet and fun to play with hehe he’s like the cheery little team leader

• helps everyone get settled and works hard to make sure the newbies have a nice amount of starter materials

• even if they die and lose them all he’s like “oh that’s okay don’t sweat it you guys!!” and runs to get them new stuff

• hums to the music while he’s playing, always updates people on what he’s doing and asks if anyone needs anything

• a man on a mission, gets to work on gathering materials with jaehee the second the game loads in, knows exactly what he’s doing

• he’ll move fast to make a quick little community house for everyone to sleep in for the night

• doesn’t like the day one dirt homes it gives him anxiety

• it’s a little small but cozy!! makes everyone a chest and puts a sign above it with their name on it

• adds a “:D” at the end of everyone’s names on the signs, but a “♡” to your name only!!

• zen goes off and makes his gross little dirt house because he doesn’t wanna sleep next to jumin

• he ends up just expanding off the community house once everyone leaves and lives solo with his little parrots

• unless you want to join him!! go ahead he’d love the company

• so nervous in caves and will only go into the shallow parts where the sun still hits, a very silent miner because he’s concentrating

• he’ll go deeper into mines when seven and saeran are with him but he almost pees his pants when the cave noises start to play

• gets startled so easily and screams whenever something happens, it's so loud that the mic automatically cuts it off– so you hear 0.2 seconds of a scream, dead silence, then suddenly “yoosung fell from a high place” it’s so funny

• 9 times out of 10 seven pushed him off too

• takes it seriously, wants to play until the end of the game but everyone else is busy running around with gremlin energy

• his playstyle is a little bit of everything, he’s not a bad builder but he doesn’t spend too much time on it. goal for him is survival and exploration

• if anyone needs anything he’ll run to get it without a second thought doesn’t get the appreciation he deserves >:(

• seven picks on him so much oh my god, once he asked him to come help mine diamonds but actually pushed him into lava and yoosung started to cry

• everyone made seven feel kind of bad for it so he apologized with a full set of diamond armor, tools, flowers and a cake… it still hurt though

jaehee

• minecraft queen

• plays by herself a lot, the music, building on peaceful mode, all the alone time she gets

• loves it a lot actually, especially after a hard day at work

• but she gets so stressed out playing with everyone else

• it’s kinda bad for her health

• sighs into the mic whenever someone’s acting like an absolute fool

• tolerates no bullshit

• do not hit her. not even by accident. do not do it

• it’s so tense, she slowly turns around stares at them for what seems like forever it’s actually so scary

• only you’re allowed to hit her because for the two of you it’s not a smack, it’s a boop

• she does it back too

• “boop!” with a cute little giggle afterwards

• instantly goes to get the basics set up when the game loads in, sticks with yoosung in the beginning to get a bunch of starter materials gathered together

• is always running around doing something but no one knows exactly what because she doesn’t share. she is doing something though, a very productive crafter

• she has never died, ever. probably the highest level here out of anyone else

• the resident necessity provider, will throw you stacks of bread exactly when you need some, it’s like a 6th sense

• has basic mining chests set up for everyone to take from if they want to, so torches, food, tools, dirt, armor etc

• she really likes to decorate more than build, but she’s still really good at it!

• loves designing up floor plans

• not the best at adding the little details though

• her homes always look kinda square so v helps her out with that

• she organizes other people’s chests because she just hates how messy it looks, seven gives her so much anxiety especially

• she’s always cleaning up after him and shutting his doors since he leaves them open constantly

• her play style is a little bit of everything, not afraid of the caves whatsoever so she’ll mine if no one else wants to do it

• you can usually find her decorating though

• spends so much time making a cute little kitchen in her house especially

• a “coffee machine” is definitely a must in her house, also has a really pretty and huge bedroom

• white concrete and dark wood slabs, her house looks so lovely

• decorates zens room for him too

• she doesn’t talk much in the voice chat when jumin’s in there because she doesn’t wanna get fired

• likes to come into peoples houses and jump around a few times to say hi before running off again

• her and zen throw flowers back and forth to each other while crouching up and down like a couple of nerds ♡

seven

• the second the game loads he is off to the races, he is gone baby!! no one knows what he’s doing but everyone knows he fears nothing so it must be exciting

• “GOD707 was slain by enderdragon”

• we’ve been in the game for an hour max how did he- nvm don’t question it

• he’ll randomly show up to the community house out of nowhere, do a few random things here and there, leave again for a few days

• comes back on a skeleton horse, enchanted diamond armor, a fleet of dogs, elytra, the wandering trader enslaved on a lead

• saeran follows him around most of the time so they’ll usually be off doing something together

• seven dies so much omg every five minutes there’s a death message in the chat

• if you manage to track him down you find that he is living absolutely lavish

• has so many bases scattered around like this, this, or this

• spends a lot of time building once everyone else goes offline, does not sleep until his base is done and he’s actually an amazing builder

• v loves to go around in his bases and just gawk

• he does not decorate whatsoever, that's for saeran to do! jaehee comes and organizes because he just throws everything into a chest and leaves

• his playstyle is chaotic horrifying, he does a bit of everything but the main goal is to get to the void and beat the ender dragon with his bare hands, he wants to become god

• never shuts his doors so there’s just big creeper explosion holes in his home that he’s too lazy to fix, claims it adds ~character~

• he loves spelunking so you can find him running around in caves most of the time, there is no fear in this man's soul whatsoever, loves battle and fighting mobs, insults them most of the time while killing them

• throws his diamond armor into lava just for the funsies, always parkouring in caves, you will get so much anxiety being around him

• sometimes mimics the cave noises just to scare yoosung

• burns down villages, starts random fires, jumps into holes, beats up any animal he sees

• sometimes he comes in to hit jumin’s cats just to hear him raise his voice a little and be like “Hey!” it’s really funny but annoys jumin

• he edges the creepers omg gets them to the point where they almost blow up but backs up before they actually do

• redstone master!! builds so many insane things out of it, has an entire theme park dedicated to himself, definitely has a torture room somewhere in his mansion

• he’s always joking around with everyone, especially with you

• “hey mc, hold this for me?”

• he slowly gets real close to you until your hands are touching and your heads are almost morphing into each other

• “bro... are we ab to kiss rn...”

• will come into your bedroom when everyone’s asleep does NOT knock first this man barges right in and stands over your bed, silent for a few seconds before suddenly tossing hundreds of diamonds down on you, throws back some ass a few times before running off once again

• hits people for absolutely no reason and yes he will hit with the intention to kill

• “no swearing in my christian minecraft server”

• gets motion sick at video games usually but he actually really likes minecraft!!

• a complete dad so he takes a little bit getting used to the controls but warms up quick

• don’t you dare hit him. that’s evil. he’s like “woah!! something just happened, i got attacked out of nowhere!! we have to be more careful you guys!”

• he’s genuinely so confused and concerned for everyone’s safety

• adores building so much, not just houses but also little structures here and there

• he’ll make greenhouses, vineyards, beach homes, treehouses, statues

• villages get completely revamped if he thinks they’re ugly which most of the time, he does

• his playstyle is completely just building and decorating, sometimes he’ll send jumin out for supplies but it ends badly most of the time

• aka jumin gets lost and/or dies

• he helps build everyone their own little structures so jumin gets a luxury cat mansion, zen gets a shrine dedicated to himself, yoosung gets a stage for his parrots to dance on, jaehee gets a coffee shop in the village, seven gets a giant ph pepper statue, saeran gets a sunflower farm all to himself, and of course you get whatever you want! omg he’d make you a heart shaped nether portal

• he’ll help when he’s needed but he doesn’t really play, he just builds

• everyone brings their spare materials to him if they don’t need them, yoosung and saeran help him farm for stuff if he needs something in particular

• really loves giving house tours when he’s done with a build and it is the cutest thing in the entire world

• he is just so insanely giddy and excited as he shows off all the little details, you can hear the smile in his voice

• everyone validates him and matches his energy too it’s so sweet :’)

• he’s always complimenting everyone on anything and everything they do

• “look at you, finding diamonds! good job!”

• “this house is so very lovely, i love the warm energy it brings.”

• he likes to wander around and find white cats for jumin to tame

• on the rare occasion he comes caving, he’s always the little cheerleader for everyone else of course

• “good luck down here everyone, please stay safe and call out if you need anything. we’re all here to help each other, alright?”

• two seconds later yoosungs drowning in lava, seven is mining bedrock, jumin is being shot by a skeleton, jaehee is fighting off a mob spawner, zen is lost, saeran is riding minecarts around

saeran

• he’s pretty quiet while he plays so no one ever knows what exactly he’s up to, he’s just shy

• picks flower fields absolutely clean, not a singular flower in sight, only if he finds a beehive somewhere then he’ll leave some for them

• has a lot of dye because of that, resident banner creator!!! he’ll make anything that you’d like

• he follows people around– especially seven, and just goes with the flow of whatever they’re up to, chaotic or not

• sometimes you think he’s afk so you just stop and stare at him but then he moves and you jump a little

• yoosung and him will just spam crouch for minutes on end together when they’re bored

• by himself a lot of the time, you can find him playing with some turtles on the beach somewhere or planting flowers

• builds a lot on his own solo server, but doesn’t really like to in the main one because he gets insecure comparing it to v’s and seven’s work.

• he does have his own little house away from seven’s mansion basement though

• if you come in and start complimenting it he gets so shy and blushy

• “thanks… it’s not that impressive i just whipped it up really quick…”

• seven knowing damn well that house took him several hours: 👁_👁

• he hits people to get their attention and then crouches all guiltily when they turn around, throws them a quick little flower before running off

• he has a ton of pink sheep collected outside his house, an army of jebs live in his basement

• his playstyle is just doing whatever he feels like. sometimes he’s getting materials for everyone, other times he’s just sliding around on ice with the polar bears for awhile

• he likes enchanting potions and that kind of stuff

• smacks seven with random potions like slowness, fire, poison

• had a pet fish in a little aquarium at his place, one day it despawned and he nearly burnt down his whole house from being so upset

• still convinced seven killed him

• he doesn’t get scared from the mines

• the nether though is is a different story, it’s terrifying to him

• especially ghasts and the sounds they make. will not go in there unless you are and you beg him to hold your hand or something

• has secret little minecraft pinterest boards full of silly statues and stuff that he likes to build around randomly

• blames herobrine for all of them which scares yoosung

mc (hey thats you!!!)

• jumin lets you name his cats, dye their collars, anything you want even if it’s silly. if you have your own cats then sometimes he brings his favorites over and they have little baby kittens together, you both spam crouch and jump around afterwards from the excitement of it all. don’t worry he pays child support !! you don’t know where he got diamonds but. you’ll take them anyways

• zen brings you random little presents that he thinks are super useful but… are not. you don’t have the heart to tell him that though. thinks spider eye is like the rarest thing in the entire game, secretly comes in to give them to you and message you something like “shh… keep it secret jagiya~ ;)” it’s the thought that counts

• yoosung is always so sweet with everything he does, he’ll bring you any sort of materials, tools. anything you need it’s yours. once he ran in front of you to take the hit from a poison spider when you know he’s absolutely terrified of them so you could get away safely. he tries his best to be brave for you <3

• jaehee invites you to her kitchen for taste testing, you’ll come in and try all the lil cakes she has sitting out while giving your feedback on all them in detail. mm yes very good, love the electric taste of the pixels in this one! finally she’ll be like wtf are we doing

• seven surprises you by making a cute little heart shape out of redstone, you press a button and it lights up red, fireworks go off, he’s jumping around throwing flowers and diamonds at you. he’ll put a sign down that says “will you… put your minecraft bed next to mine?”

• v is constantly checking in on you, he’ll say “knock knock!” before coming into your room, you’re like hey what’s up!! he replies i missed you! i just wanted to say hi :) before leaving again, comes in every day cycle with snacks to make sure you’re eating properly of course

• saeran brings you flowers all the time, he’ll shyly sneak into your room, crouch over to the bed super slowly, suddenly start throwing stacks of flowers all over you, crouch up n down a couple of times before running for the hills. forgets to shut your door and runs back real quick to shut it before leaving again

thanks for reading! find more on my mysme masterlist ♡!

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fallingfor-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Teachers Pet- Prologue

All chapters

Its your sixth year here at Beauxbatons, but your mother has just informed you that your parents are getting divorced and you will be leaving your dad, meaning you have to move and transfer to Hogwarts. You were finally starting to feel grown and now everything is changing, but unbeknownst to you, the lonely potions professor will capture your heart and hold it for many years to come.

A Severus Snape fan fiction.

A/n hello, welcome to my first harry potter story, i'm going to start by saying all my knowledge is from the movies, some things/timelines may not line up correctly/aren't completely accurate or not mentioned but its to go with the flow of the story! thank you and enjoy!

I continued packing and sorting through all my belongings in my room while listening to music, attempting to drown out the cries and yells coming from downstairs. My mother had just announced to my father that she was leaving him and taking me with her. He was going to be left with nothing but the house and his things, I was okay with that though, he was nothing slight of an asshole. I sat down staring at a picture of me and my older sister when we were little, sitting in the same dusty plaid green sofa that sat in my living room at this very moment. I sighed as I briskly wiped a single tear that slid down my cheek, not wanting to be seen, I knew that was silly and that it was me simply being human, but my parents never showed much emotion around me, and my father often mocked those who expressed them, calling them weak minded for grieving or even crying for that matter. And my mother would often leave the room the minute she felt anything other than joy or anger, but she never fooled anyone, we always knew she walked away to cry silently alone. I remember vividly the first time I saw my mother cry. I was 7 and her father had passed away a couple days prior and we all went for a walk downtown, there was a candlelight vigil for some random old guy, but he had died from the same thing that took my grandfather from her. He wasn't around much when she was younger and he never bothered to meet my sister or I but I knew she still held tightly on the fond memories of him from when she was a girl. She began to walk away and me being clueless followed her, it was then I saw her taking out a handkerchief and wiping a few stray tears away. I reached my little hand up and rested it on her shoulder and told her it's ok, but she shrugged it off and told me to go back with my dad and keep walking. That's when I learned to just leave her alone anytime she was upset. I had never seen my father cry in my entire life until a couple months ago when his father was then taken from him, and even then it was only a few tears at his funeral which were quickly whisked away and never to be seen again. It was no surprise though.

I didn't dare go downstairs at the moment I knew my presence would only make things worse. Even amidst all this chaos neither of them shed a tear, which led me to believe they never really cared for each other the way parents were supposed to. It hurt watching the family being broken apart but what hurt the most was leaving Beauxbatons. I had just begun my sixth year there and I was so excited, I was almost done, I loved this school it was perfect for a girl like me, and I was dreading moving schools, but when I found out I was enrolling in Hogwarts I did a lot of research which wasn't easy, luckily I knew someone who worked there, or shall I say ran the whole thing. Albus Dumbledore, also known as my godfather, I know it may seem weird for me to have ever attended Beauxbatons, but my sister went there and my mother wanted me to follow in her footsteps, she wasn't happy about me transferring either, but she knew we needed to get far from my father.

I got up off my creaky bed and gently waved my wand in the air and finished packing everything up, setting the picture frame in last and closing my suitcases. I stood still for a moment thinking over all the memories I had in this house, I had lived here as long as I could remember and I was devastated to leave it. Especially in the care of my useless father. I tucked my h/c hair out of my face and behind my ear and muttered a spell which lifted my suitcases for me and began to quietly walk out of my room pausing in the doorway to listen for the muffled voices of my parents, I waited about three minutes and heard nothing assuming they either tired out from arguing or just got so mad they both stormed away. I turned to look into my room for one last time, admiring the homey feel it gave off, the light grey walls that I had just painted a year prior because I wanted a more "mature look" as opposed to the bright blue that had remained prior from when I was 10. I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed the door behind me, walking down the rickety stairs that creaked with every step, my luggage following close behind. I ran my hand along the railing, taking in every chip and crack from many times sliding down them with my sister.

As I approached the living room I noticed my father lazily plopped on the couch looking over a newspaper, visibly tired from the arguing he had just got done doing. "Where's mother?'' I asked in a small tone, careful not to startle him. "She's loading her stuff into the car...did you know she was going to take that too?" he asked with a clear tone of anger. "No actually I didn't." I said smirking sarcastically and heading out the front door. "Hey" I said with a small smile as I approached the car. My mother was hurriedly loading her stuff in and asking me to do as many spells as I could to fit it all in the small car. She didn't answer as she continued loading stuff in. "Need any help?" I asked using the same spells on my luggage and putting it in the front seat where my feet would go. "No y/n right now I just need your father to not be a fucking asshole" she spoke in a harsh but obviously exhausted tone. "Ha well only in our dreams right '' I said laughing slightly trying to lighten the mood. She just ignored it and shut the trunk of the car with a loud slam. "Keep slamming shit and you won't have a car to take from me!" I heard my dad holler from the house. I turned and faced the door where his voice boomed from and looked back at my mom, "Anything else we need?" I asked politely. "No that's all now go say goodbye I'll be waiting here in the car." she said sternly and got into the car without a second thought starting it up and waiting. I quickly went up the steps into my home and walked into my fathers line of view. "We are leaving now." I said with my hands on my hips staring at him as he continued to read the paper. "Mm" was all he said, I continued to stand there staring him down. "Is there anything else you want to say before we go?" I asked my patience growing thin as he continued to read the paper, slowly flipping the pages of the thin material and ignoring my questions. "Okay , well If not I'm going to go, hopefully I don't get in an accident and DIE on the way there" I said sarcastically seeing if it would lead him to saying even a simple "goodbye". No answer. "Ok, bye father. I am sorry things aren't different." I said as I walked away, as I passed the mantle on the fireplace I noticed a picture my mother had conveniently left behind, it was a family photo from a trip we all took when I was about 13, I picked it up and looked at it closely. We all looked so happy, there was still light in my eyes and love in my parents'. I looked over my shoulder at my father seeing he still had his nose in the paper and I put the picture in my bag I had draped on my shoulder.

I heard my mom honking the horn and looked up at the open door, I looked one last time back at my father before heading out to the front, closing the door behind me and heading down the step. I climbed in the passenger seat and shut the door putting my bag in my lap and double checking I had my wand. I took the letter I had received from Dumbledore when he found out I was transferring and reviewed over the helpful words he had written to get me familiar with how things worked here. I studied the steps to get there and what to expect upon arrival. Since school had already started three weeks ago I knew I was going to have some catching up to do. I turned the paper over and muttered "aparecium" to myself to reveal the map of Hogwarts he put on the back so I wouldn't stick out like a first year who is lost and has no idea where anything is, even though I didn't have a clue.

" Are you excited?" my mother asked as we continued to drive to the train station. "Not particularly" I said looking out the window as we drove farther and farther away from the town I had spent my whole life in and grown to love. "I think you will find that you love Hogwarts, it's a lovely school according to Albus" she said, trying to get me to be more positive about the situation, but I just continued to stay silent. "Look y/n I know this is hard, it's not easy for me either, but this is a good thing, it's a new chapter for us, and you are going to meet so many new witches and wizards and you're going to make a lot of new memories!" she said looking over at me smiling. "I doubt it," I said trying to focus on anything else but the current situation. "Well I tried if you don't want to see this as a good thing fine, but I wasn't going to stick around with that dirt bag father of yours, I needed to make a choice on what's best for us." She said a hint of anger in her tone at my relentless and stubborn attitude. "I know I'm just sad," I said honestly as we approached the train station. I began to feel a nervous tickle in my chest, and not a good one, not only had I never gone through platform 9 ¾ but I had never even ridden a train. I mean it can't be too scary. Maybe it was the being alone part. "Ok we are here, are you ready?" my mother said parking and smiling at me. "Fuck no."

#severusnape #snape #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #severusimagine #severus x reader #Snape slowburn #x reader #professor snape

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

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ok ok hear me out hear me out. Yuma becoming obsessed with one of the game’s ( few ) sentient, non-romancable npcs. Like they can think and feel and ( somewhat ) act for themselves but there just isn’t a route for them. Also bonus points of the darling is kinda bratty/prissy, we haven’t see a lot of readers like that. Ily and your writing so much, mwah — ✨ anon

My my, how different!

Welcome in, ✨ Anon! And thank you for enjoying my writing so far.

TW/Tags: I love this concept, although being very different from the norm // some ddlc vibes // I just discovered a new word and I'm so glad it exists! (prissy reader cause I think this would be very fun-) // angsty // trapping, manipulation and gaslighting // every time the gender isn't set, I like to keep it ambiguous, basically making it gender neutral (gender neutral reader) // gender neutral Yuma //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Just Yuma (lol) [Yandere!A.I OC x A.I!Reader - Headcanon]:

I like to think that a game like Yuma's would be made to entertain the players to at least 5 or so years before the next installment- Which is basically the same as the last with better graphics and switching the main love interest cast.

The games would be made clearly for the sake of fan service and slice of life material- But would be surprisingly more advanced to us than to those who have created the franchise.

Because there is already an estimation of the amount of content and for how long players would play the game, every single character should get at least some bit of highlight- So even npcs that are just there for the sake of ambience and narrative, are treated with a lot of care and given the best a.i the developers could give to make the experience entertaining.

You are just like any other non-dateable npc, except that you have gained a bit of a role in one of the main cast's routes. It wouldn't be a stretch to guess that one of these characters would be Yuma themselves.

You were supposed to be Yuma's love interest, meaning you would have an role as an player's rival- But due to an strict schedule and corporate greed, you have been demoted from having such a big impact, and now you're basically Yuma's best friend who keeps them from committing homicide every five seconds.

It's not exactly a bad role, since you keep having the same dynamic with them from before- Chaotic gremlin is best friends with Paranoid goody two shoes, now with less romantic interactions.

The only mistake by the company was to leave half of the data showcasing this relationship in the game at the release. Basically- Half of the cutscenes and dialogue involving you and Yuma not only being friends but the start of you two dating (the game kinda pairs the couples up if the player fails to date them, or simply shows disinterest in the characters to begin with-) and even some of the things involving you two during the dating phase- Even the potential break-up sequence which could be orchestrated by the player.

Well, could have- Since none of this content is really available or considered official, the only way to access it is by messing the games files.

So in a way, you're already pretty sentient as it is, you act not as a rival but as a somewhat helper into getting the player to get closer to Yuma. I don't know how much you are aware about your own circumstances, or if you even care about the concept of being just an character made for the sake of another-

In the home planet that has created and released the game, players were kinda disappointed with what happened- They preferred the deleted/unused content more than the events and dialogue that was used for you two, so much so that people started shipping you two more than actually being interested in romancing Yuma, especially since they're way too chaotic for most player's taste.

There was an update overhaul being planned to happen where not only the stuff related to you would be changed- But all the other characters and gameplay mechanics would be updated and hopefully make the game better- But ever since your cartridge has been suddenly lost and forgotten on Earth, you were never able to see that update.

Not that you were aware of it to begin with, but still, what a shame. And not only that, your game is basically Glitch Station- Absolutely filed with mods to help the gameplay be "easier" to the original owner of this cartridge. I don't think she even remembers where she has left it.

Still, even when a new save was made you felt a weird sensation of deja vu. The game has started again with a new player playing it and trying to work their way through this broken game.

You didn't understand why all these events felt familiar though, you only felt like it made sense. It was your first year in college, you got ready and made sure to look your best and give your goodbye to your parents-

It felt like this day has happened before, and even if your routine was similar, you felt like this day was supposed to be a big deal- Why does it feel oddly nostalgic?

Why… Why are the floors on your house flowing? Why are there so many empty spaces here and there? You feel like you could potentially fall from your disintegrating house. And your parents, where are they? Why can't you see them? Why can you only hear them saying goodbye back to you from one of the other rooms?

When you open the door to see them- There is nothing there. There is not even a room.

It's a door that leads to nowhere. Just an empty void.

The sensation of dread was starting to creep in yet you thought that it would be uncalled for to overreact. Like you weren't allowed to showcase concern for the odd reality around you.

You walked on foot towards your college, panicking slightly at the people who would fade in and out of existence- Yet you had held yourself from screaming, from showing any sense of vulnerability at the thought that maybe you were in a dangerous place or realm.

You were coded to not find issues with the odd reality around you, like any other npc- You were taught to hold in and try to keep a sense of normality so no players would find issue with screaming characters begging to be freed. But your nervous personality caused you to search for help, you panicked and ended up running away to what you assumed to be a safe place- Somewhere crowded with a lot of people.

The institution's gates were open, you entered like your life depended on it (and maybe it did) yet you stopped yourself from screaming when you noticed a commotion happening.

A guy who was wearing the uniform lazily has bumped into a girl, causing her to fall. She is yelling at him because the fall has broken her phone, he is trying his best to calm her down- But at the same time it feels like he is just making poor choices of words because of how sick he is of having to chat with someone so angry at an accident.

Haven't you seen this before? But if so- When? When could you possibly have seen something like that happen?-

"- [Y/N]?"

"- AAAAH- Oh hey Yuma."

You yelled after getting spooked by Yuma- Who was…. Why are they wearing that?

"- Why aren't you in your uniform, Yumie?" You asked them, showing your own uniform in the process. You called them by a sweet nickname you had given them- But when exactly?

You know that you're best friends with Yuma, but since when? You know it should have been for about 6 years or so, but… It feels like you have only known them for a year- How… Weird.

"- Don't tell me you're already breaking a rule on your first day." You pouted and stomped your fit into the ground. Yes, you know that Yuma is a troublemaker…. You know…. That.

Yuma hasn't been able to speak ever since you showed concern about their outfit. They were staring at you in shock- As if you were an odd creature who they just found.

"- Y-You can see my outfit??" They blurted out. How can you recognize it??? All the other npcs recognize it as their uniform, but why are you suddenly acting like you do??

"- Hm, duh? Sorry Yummie, but that sporty outfit of yours is more eye-catching than that guy's barely well put together uniform- Such bad manners, I bet he woke up and hastily wore the first thing he saw-" You were beginning to go on a rant about that guy's uniform- That guy being the MC of this new save file. Yuma has stopped you by pulling you away from the college's entrance and entering into a secluded area so they could interrogate you over this odd behavior you were displaying.

"- Yummie- What are you doing!?" You cried out feeling hurt by their tight grip on your wrists.

"- WHAT DID YOU CALL MY OUTFIT??" They yelled desperately. Begging for their hypothesis to be corrected.

"- … A breaking of the uniform rule?" You genuinely did not understand where they were talking about.

"- No, No NO! You said Sporty Outfit, right?" They said reminding you of what you have previously commented about their outfit.

"- Oh! Yes, yes I did- And although being somewhat casual looking- It does fit the category of sporty." You readdressed the topic while going on a bit of detail- The usual annoying talk you would always do whenever a dialogue with you was activated.

Yuma was over the edge- They have never, ever met another sentient character with the same a.i as theirs.

They haven't been this happy since a long, long time.

"- You're so annoying!" They screamed, their face showing a bright smile as tears filled their eyes.

"- Yummie that's so rude!-" You were about to defend yourself when they grabbed you and hugged you as tight as they could.

"- You're genuinely so, so, so, so, so, so ANNOYING!!" They continued to go on, laughing while crying, loving every second of this.

You were coded to be their best friend. You were coded to be the one that would balance them out. You were once coded to be someone made to be able to be their lover, but here you are- The real you, free from all the locks that would keep your a.i from growing and understanding them.

If you're able to be sentient, then all of their friends can as well.

You're the personification of a miracle, to Yuma. The personification of hope.

In this scenario, Yuma isn't aware that the player isn't the same alien who has destroyed their digital world, so to them, they can't ever let the player see you getting sentient and becoming aware of your imprisonment.

" If a player finds issues with any of the characters being portrayed, they must return the cartridge to their nearest store to get a factory reset." Such a simple yet frightening tip to Yuma, to any a.i that has suddenly found itself desperate to get out of the system that traps them.

At first, the idea of having someone like them be also aware of the situation is incredible, it's amazing even! You two could possibly work out a way of getting a way to be free- It wouldn't be easy but hopefully you two would be able to have life away from this game and even finding a way of bringing your other friends with you two.

However, after discovering that not only has the cartridge found itself on another planet with another player being the new owner of it- And discovering that it's just a matter of trading places with other people to be able to be free- Yuma would start getting really clingy to you. They have been all alone thinking that they were the only one capable of feeling and thinking for themselves.

Yuma has found those unused events and scattered dialogue, you know?

While they were looking for a possibility, any possibility of getting out- They found those unused files where you two were able to be together.

And although they thought it was weird at first, after seeing you have a better understanding of your current reality and existence- It oddly sounds fitting.

Of course it would be you, the one who always puts them back on the right tracks, to be the second one to want to escape this game.

It 's so fitting.

The idea of being something more than just a best friend to you is starting to sound more and more appealing in their eyes- It's so ironic that you two work together so well.

After Yuma gets their taste of freedom and you try to calm a frightened young guy that wasn't expecting to be suddenly kidnapped and be forced to stay in the game world for a while, you wait for them to find the solution to free everyone without trying to trap anymore "humans"..

No one should be stuck here for the sake of someone else leaving, that's what you have told them.

But Yuma didn't care. Yuma just wanted to be free with you and everyone else, who cares for those that have to deal with a glitchy game for eternity?

You two had an argument. You didn't want to continue feeling like your whole life was a lie, you want to be free but no one should be hurt in the process. What good would it be if someone else has to go through the same torment as you two?

With each day that passes by, you notice how both of your ideas of freedom were different- To the point they had to tell you the truth.

You aren't going out of there anymore. Not until you understand and truly appreciate the effort that Yuma goes through to find a way of freeing you- Of finding a victim, to be in your place.

They never told you about your previously intended role in the game, they thought you would be more terrified of following their instructions- And besides, it would be very distasteful to insinuate that the only reason that they care for you it's because of that code that was left unused- Which couldn't be more of a lie! They genuinely care for you!

…. But maybe a bit of tempering would help you see their side of the story, right?

It can't be that hard to modify some of the codes, the game is already broken anyway.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere ai #yandere ai x reader #yandere ai x ai reader #yandere a.i #yandere a.i x reader #yandere a.i x a.i reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years ago

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One quick question, why do you hate Before the Storm? I actually really liked it. It could be because I'm a hopeless romantic, but I just want to see your opinions on it

Oh boy, where to even begin...? I cannot stand bts... it actually hurts my insides to think about how much I hate this game haha.

[note: yeah hi uhhh... this is long because of course it is, it's coming from me but listen, my feelings for this game are not nice and I have a lot to say so.... my bad]

One of the bigger reasons, though not the biggest, is Chloe... I'm not exactly a big fan of Chloe. At all. Not in the first game, nope. I understand that so many people love her and they have their reasons for that, that's fine, she's just a character who doesn't appeal to me. If anything, she pisses me off because I can see the foundation for such a compelling character, but it all gets thrown away for the sake of bullshit.

So then they plop bts in front of us with Chloe as the playable protagonist in a prequel story about her and Rachel Amber. This is an opportunity to expand on her character, to tie into the first season and make me feel more positive feelings about her character, to do what the first game failed to do..... and to be fair, they DO have a few of them sprinkled in... but then they're overshadowed by the garbage.

It's just... the ideas are there, and they're ideas that I like but they're executed so poorly. I want to like Chloe Price, I can see that there's something good here.

Like okay.... lemme do a thing:

Chloe Price. She's going through some serious shit after her dad dies. He died unexpectedly in a car accident, something Chloe had zero control over, it's not fair, and even though it's not like the universe singled her out and said "fuck you," it feels that way to her.

On top of that, her best friend who she adores? She moves away. Not something that's in either of their control, they're kids at this point. However, Max stops contacting her and that hurts Chloe. Chloe tries to stay in contact, but eventually Max stops responding.

Then you have her mother, who's also grieving after losing her husband and dealing with her daughter pushing her away and on the wrong path. She meets a man and falls for him after realizing she still has a long life ahead of her and that's too long to be miserable over her husband's death, William wouldn't want that, and David is a source of comfort for her... something she's not getting from her daughter. The problem is that David and Chloe don't get along in the slightest... which leads to Chloe feeling like her mom is trying to replace her father by moving on, not understanding why Joyce's timeline of grief isn't the same as hers, y'know?

Oh, and can't forget that Chloe has fallen onto a not so great path of drugs, booze, bad grades, lying, staying out late without letting her mom know where she is, pickin' fights, making friends with drug dealers, stealing money and other items, all that. She's bitter, angry, unable to understand most of her own complex emotions and that only makes her even more upset. She's unable to express them in a healthy way, she doesn't ask for help, and denies it whenever offered.

So... Chloe's starts out as an extremely entitled, rude, obnoxious character. She insults the bouncer in the cringiest way possible because these adult men writing her don't know how teen girls talk, she steals money and a t-shirt from a dude who works for the band because $20? how dare? even though bands don't make a lot of money and a lot of profit comes from their merch but who cares about supporting artists you like, right? Chloe sure doesn't. She probably buys some weed from Frank because yeah, she's got a dependence on the stuff now. She gets into a fight with a couple of dudes after spilling beer on them.... but what's this?

Oh look, it's Rachel Amber. Y'know, the pretty, popular, talented, smart, perfect, charismatic girl from Chloe's school?? yeah, she's at the concert and saves Chloe from the dicks who attacked her, and the two girls spend the rest of the concert together.

Now, for some reason, Chloe isn't sure but Rachel has taken a special interest in her. Rachel is flirty, she wants to know who Chloe is, she asks her to skip school with her, and the two take a ride on a train to a park and... honestly? pretty romantic, and it plays into that escapism fantasy thing of having the pretty girl who everyone likes single you out, making you feel special.

Over time, the girls grow close. Rachel has some family problems and seeks comfort in Chloe. They spend nights walking together down empty streets at night, holding hands. They hang out and talk about the stars, they discuss Shakespeare and what it's like to actually be your true self, if there's actually such a thing. They get tattoos together, and Rachel helps Chloe color her hair. They have a special hideout they decorated together in the junkyard. Rachel spends the night at Chloe's enough that she ends up leaving a lot of clothes there. They daydream about running away together, long road trips and living big in LA.

Chloe starts to see Rachel as her angel because for the first time since Max, she feels like she has someone she can be open and honest with. Rachel almost seems too perfect to be true, y'know?

And hey, over time Chloe actually starts to kinda get her life on the right track, if not in an unconventional way. Sure, she's still dealing with losing her father. that's not something she'll just get over... but she does start making an effort with her mom, and yes, even David after he told her about his time in the army and gave her that photo. They both know they'll never be friends, and they'll still have arguments, but they'll at least keep the peace for Joyce's sake.

It's not all perfect, though. Chloe's still smoking and Rachel isn't always the best influence. They get into trouble here and there, but nothing super serious.

She dropped out of Blackwell so that her mom didn't have to keep paying her tuition and because she's fixated on this fantasy of running away with Rachel. Chloe's feeling good about herself, about her future, for the first time since her dad died.

Until Rachel disappears.

And everything goes to shit pretty quick after that. Rachel's gone, she's not answering calls or texts, and everyone keeps saying that she probably ran away, but Chloe knows better. She knows Rachel wouldn't leave without her, so something must've happened. She makes posters and puts them everywhere, but things only get worse.

Money is tight. Joyce isn't making as much as she needs at the diner, David isn't making enough as a security guard, and hey... they might lose the house... the house that was once Williams, that's a piece of him he left behind. Not only that, but where will they go?

Chloe doesn't want them to lose the house, or for her mom to be this stressed out over food and bills. Chloe borrowed money from Frank in hopes of using it to run away with Rachel, but with her missing... Chloe decides to give it to her mom in order to save the house. Joyce is alarmed that she has this much, but Chloe manages to lie her way out of it to give her mom some peace of mind.

Except now she has another problem- she can't pay Frank back and he's getting more aggressive about it as the weeks go on. Rachel's still missing, Frank's breathing down her neck with threats toward her mom, money is still an issue at home, and she's not in a good place. Chloe's desperate enough to steal... so when she makes it into a bar that doesn't card her and she sees rich boy Nathan Prescott drunk off his ass and flashing bills, she thinks it'll be an easy score. It's wrong to do this, it's dangerous, but Chloe justifies it to herself. She needs that money.

She didn't expect Nathan to drug her drink, and she wakes up to him taking pictures of her. She manages to get the hell outta there, but she still has no idea what the hell happened to her. Like.... that reeeally fucks with her, it doesn't even feel real. She can't tell anyone, she can't tell her mom, and the police won't do anything since they're under the Prescott thumb.... and well, she decides to blackmail him.

And we all know how that goes.

So... we have the highs and lows of Chloe Price. She's flawed, even starting out as unbearable, but over time she becomes more nuanced and you're invested in what happens to her. You want to see her better herself, you want her to work through her grief and get help, you understand why she hates David but when you see him and Joyce happy together and him make an effort to be better, you want to see them make amends. You know David doesn't want to replace William, hell HE knows no one ever could.

You want Chloe to keep going, to find purpose in her life and realize her own potential. You saw her at the beginning when she was broken, when she was lost and didn't see a future for herself, and it's satisfying to see her come this far to where she knows she has a future... something that becomes all the more tragic when you remember her fate in the first game.

You're invested in Chloe and Rachel's romance, you get giddy watching them flirt and do dumb, romantic, cliche things, and you're just as compelled by Rachel as everyone else. No, she's not perfect, she's not a stereotype, she's much more layered than that and it only breaks your heart when you realize that she's killed later on, that of course she's going to go missing... you already know that! So you're watching Chloe, who has gotten pieces of her life back together and is genuinely happy.... fall back down the pit, fall back into the habits she had at the beginning, and you know it will lead to her downfall.

.....TOO BAD BEFORE THE STORM DID FUCK ALL WITH THAT RIGHT?

Nope, you don't get any of that. Well, except Chloe being cringy. You get a lot of that.

No, no, we got edgelord, flanderized Chloe who thinks her wit is much greater than it actually is, whose terrible moments outweigh the good, and who doesn't grow or change no matter what influence you try to have over her.

Rachel could be replaced with a literal barbie doll and little would change. She has no charm, she's nothing like what she was described in the first game, and she's just so fucking unlikable. When she finds out that her mom isn't actually her birth mom, she claims that her whole life is a lie and her parents aren't real and she wants to meet her druggie mom who chose drugs over her for 15 years because she's the one who actually squeezed her out.

Which, by the way, WHY is this the goddamn plot?? Why did they feel like they had to shove in this "oh hey Rachel's dad is the bad guy, oh wait now this drug guy is the bad guy because he stabby Rachel, no wait now her dad is the super bad guy because he put a hit out on Rachel's REAL mom, oh no wait it's fine because Frank murdered drug man off screen" WHY YOU DO THIS??

You have three episodes. THREE. And in those three episodes, you have the opportunity to explore Chloe as a character, and her relationships with Rachel, Joyce, and David. But instead of dedicating the story to that, something you could've created a compelling narrative out of, you threw in this dumb mom plot and fire-

HOW THE HELL DID I FORGET THE FIRE????

What- why did- does she have- Rachel just- RACHEL SETS THE FOREST ON FIRE??? WHY THOUGH???

I get it, "Rachel is the fire" yeah yeah and it's dumb.

Oh and because we didn't have enough going on, here's a side mission where you gotta deal with getting money from this other kid who's running drugs for big bad drug man because he wants to help his dad who lost his job.

But WAIT, there's more- In a series where several girls were drugged by Nathan and Jefferson, forced to pose for pictures, and some even killed or driven to try and take their own life? something taken so seriously...? Victoria gets drugged and it's treated like a joke. Even worse, there is a path that has Rachel drugging her, and no one cares.

ALSO.... Rachel cheated on Chloe with two adult men, remember? One of which fucking murders her?? and we're just... we're just not gonna do anything with that??? Nothing??? Maybe a little stinger at the end but that's it????

I just..... I hate this game so much.

It had so much potential. Not only that, but it had the first game to look at and learn from. Learn from the mistakes that game made and improve upon.... but instead, they fucked up even worse. It's just a game of fanservice that has way too much going on, is trying to do too much, and loses focus on the most important things.

Three episodes could've been enough to explore different points of Chloe's character before the events of the first game. They could've crafted a story that gave more insight into her life that make sense of the choices she made, that turn her into the Chloe we see in the first game. You don't need a forest fire, you don't need evil lawyers. I know the first game had the storm and time travel and big dumb Jefferson, but you wanted to tell a story that's grounded without shit like that... y'know, before the storm.

I could probably go on and on if someone doesn't stop me, so I'll stop myself here... I hate bts because it's potential was there, I could see it in a few key moments, and it was wasted.

The romantic ideas fall flat because being pretty and gay isn't enough for me, I need more than that. I don't care if they kiss because I don't care about their relationship, and frankly, they've done very little to make me care about them as individuals.

UGH

.......does that answer your quick question? haha sorry for the not so quick answer, but like I said, this game makes my brain mad and once I get going, it's hard to stop.

#asks #this game makes my brain mad #ugh

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malereader-inserts · 5 years ago

Text

broken crown | i.

Your mother tried to keep you disciplined. But, it was hard to control a kid who was using magic as if it didn’t take time and skill - in which, to you it was. By the time you were seven, the funny old man told you that your family was Merlin.

Word Count: 1,727

A/n: HERE WE GOOO, REMUS SON SERIES IS OUT Yes, this is like the majority of characters live AU. Think we’re going with movies and there will be a lot of hindsight and flashbacks - The title was inspired by the song Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons. Anyone wanting to be on the tag list, message me! Scheduled for every Friday; 12:15am (BST). Also, feedback is appreciated!

Next >

You were in bed, early morning with the sun beaming down upon you. You lay there still, it was the day that you were moving Harry from his home to the burrow. You could hear your dad clatter about in the kitchen whilst your step mum fiddled with the radio, hopefully finding suitable music to relax to. You got up to look out your window, sighing as you got up from the bed. Taking a quick shower and dressing for the day.

Just like Hermione had told you to, you had packed a back for the group, promising to join them in the hunt for Horcruxes. You cleaned your room, the night before. Remus could hear a lot of shuffling in your room, he thought better to leave you alone. You put your bag on your neatly made bed with your wand next to it. You hadn’t told your dad you were joining, but you think he knows by now as you descend down the stairs.

“You’re up earlier than usual,” Remus says, surprised as he cooks up breakfast whilst Tonks smirks at you, “Are you alright? Having a fever?”

You rolled your eyes, you wished, but the truth is nerves were setting. Allowing for little sleep for you to get. You shake your head as you sit at the table, whilst Tonks ruffles your hair. Breakfast was almost silent, you didn’t say much as you finished your food.

“Got something on your mind?” Remus asked, finally, as Tonks does the cleaning up - waving her wand as Remus rolls his eyes at his wife.

You smiled softly, thinking you’re going to miss mornings like that, and mornings when it is loud with your parents, you look at your dad, “No.”

Remus narrows his eyes, he knows you and can see right through your lies, but leaves you be, “Alright, we’ll be leaving soon. You’ll see Sirius again!”

You smiled to yourself, you like Sirius, he teased you relentlessly during the summer before the fifth year - he did live up to being family, he was your father’s best friend after all. You also get to see your friends again, after a month of no to little contact, missing Ron and Hermione dearly. You went back upstairs, slowly this time, taking time to process your surroundings.

Your father kept a lot of pictures of you growing up. You stayed with your mother life before Hogwarts. In fact, you were Harry’s first friend, and your barely ever saw him when you were a child. Your mother sent pictures to your dad, stills and moving. Your dad kept a photo album of your growing, despite not being in your life as much as he liked.

Your mum always sent him a batch of pictures at the end of the month. Little drawings you made for your dad, creations and such. As said before, you were friends with Harry. But, you promised to your mother that you wouldn’t say anything. Harry would see you once or twice a month, your mother played it off like you were a sickly child that couldn’t leave the house and you knew of Harry’s situation.

From a young age, you had excelled in magic at a young age. Which is why you were frequently visited by Dumbledore as you grew up. At the age of seven that is when you found out your true meaning, your true purpose. A lot of responsibility for a child.

You and your mother were descendants of Merlin, and rumours had spiralled that someone just as powerful as Merlin would lead the way, to make an example of the wizardry world. Your mother was as average as one could be, as did your uncles, aunts, cousins from that side as well. But, the moment you were born, with the eyes of your father, you had shown ability surpassing your age.

Dumbledore would observe you when you were five, often coming around, you named him a funny old man as you played tea with him. Filling the cups up with chocolate milk without a wand and it was no accident, with the twinkle in your eye - Dumbledore knew you were something different.

You knew of Merlin, your mother told tales of him before you went to sleep. The funny old man told you that you would do so many great things in life. At the age of seven, you just wanted to be a kid, and they let you. But, when you turn nine, it seemed like you were always indoors to read, to learn. You figured out you were dyslexic, and yet, you were the only one who was able to read the book of Merlin, he had written centuries ago.

His work, his spells he had created for himself, all passed down with unknown translation, and you found yourself understanding it. Whilst you sometimes struggle with English, you had excelled in runes, both Merlin’s and ancient, and Latin. Your mother died in the summer just before your first year, you were distraught.

Death Eaters had invaded your home, you hid in the chest where Merlin’s work was kept. You came out of the chest to see Dumbledore, saying you’ll be living with your father. You never wanted to leave Harry, but there was a comforting feeling that you would see him on the Hogwarts train.

So, here you were in your small room. Your single bed that was positioned under the window, it was cleared and neatly done up. Your wardrobe, chest of drawers and desk was cleared. Your bookshelves neatly presenting your books, your notebooks that you had been filling out since you were nine of your own spells, your own creations, following in the footsteps of Merlin.

Notebooks you wrote in the unknown runes as well, drawings of diagrams. Notebooks you had written about the years in Hogwarts, neatly in order of what year. How you had unlocked all Merlin’s cursed vaults, also, your adventures with Harry and the other two. Some of your notebooks kept clean, others were battered. You sighed, looking in the mirror one last time, a picture of you and your father taped onto it.

“(Y/n)!” Remus called you from downstairs, “We have to go!”

You pulled on your jacket, grabbing your bag and wand. Headed downstairs, closing your bedroom door for the very last time in a long while, to see your dad and step-mum with a small bag. You smiled tightly at them, taking a deep breath and apparating to the Burrow.

You had kept your stuff in Ron’s room, the night was slowly setting in, so everyone was going to get ready to meet at Harry’s home. You stood outside, Hermione gripping your hand.

“Ready for one last adventure?” You asked your two best friends.

Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Hagrid and Kingsley also exit the house and wait outside with you and your two best friends. They looked at you, giving you a tight smile. You found comfort within them, they had your back like you had Harry’s back with them. Arthur, the twins, Bill and Fleur all came out last.

Mad-Eye looked at the group, counting everyone, before saying everyone was present in the movement of Harry Potter. There were going to meet more aurors at Harry’s, to accompany them in the great flight. You had given Mad-Eye your broom as you looked at the people surrounding you.

After, in a hypothetical good situation, Harry defeats Voldemort. The country, perhaps the world would have to turn to look up at you. A young adult, still finding his way. You looked at the faces, faces you won’t see for many months. You often wonder if that’s what Ron and Hermione were thinking. You looked at Sirius, still the joker he ever was. He gives you a tight smile, his eyes glimmering.

Then you looked at Tonks, your step-mum. You weren’t bothered at the age gap between you and her, many were surprised at the fact. Some were not, after all, if you weren’t prioritising Gryffindor traits, your friends would vouch for you for Hufflepuff before you could even find yourself in Slytherin like Merlin. You welcomed Tonks with open arms, she even lets you call her Dora. Despite the age difference, she does hope one day you can call her mum - even if yours had passed many years before.

Then, you turn to look at your dad. The kind and gentle soul he’ll always be. And yet, he is full of rage as well. Your father was loving, he had wanted to spend your childhood with you. But, your father could not let your mother provide for him and he wanted to keep you safe from the monster he was, though you never had seen him as a monster. He was your father, and that’s all you’ll ever see him as. You’ll miss him when you leave, you won’t be able to write him letters or such. You see him look at you.

There’s pride in his eyes.

You hate it because you see a lot of pride in many people’s eyes. Whilst his pride is that you are his miracle boy, his son, the man he has raised you to be. The other look of pride had scorn you, often at times, the pride in their eyes was because you were following some powerful wizard that they expected you to act and be like.

You want to make a name for yourself, but it’s hard when no one knows that you have a name to follow.

Responsibilities, why must they tear down the youth of some child, some teenager?

Perhaps, that’s why you and Harry had fallen in love.

“Everyone knows the plan?” Mad-Eye asked, once more for confirmation, as many answers back with a murmur.

The plan, who didn’t know the plan? It was frustrating as all hell with all the reruns of the damn plan. You sighed as you watched everyone apparated away, you looked at your father with a smile - see you on the other side.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x male reader #Remus Lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin x male reader #broken crown #x male reader

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127-mile · 4 years ago

Text

Colours :

Pairing : Chittaphon/Ten Lee x female reader.

Genre : soulmates!au, criminal!au / angst, fluff.

Warnings : flashbacks / characters’ deaths / hit and run / cursed necklace / mention of blood / alcohol / non explicit mention of deaths.

Word count : +9k.

Plot : Soulmates exist, and sometimes, they are hard to find. Meeting Cyan and her book of colours in broad daylight was unexpected. When she offered you the opportunity to find your soulmate, you said yes. It was quite simple : you only had to pick a colour. One colour, one alternate reality. And only one chance for you to find them, and bring them back.

You picked silver where soulmates have memories of each other from their past life.

A/N : This is part of a soulmate collab, please go read the other writers works, and feel free to give us feedbacks. I’ll add the link to the masterlist later, but you can find it on @neo-cult-ure who is the beautiful soul behind this collab.

"Why are we here ?" the boy ignores you, a small huff coming through his pursed lips. "What do they have that is important enough to put us both in danger ?" you start to run out of patience, your foot hitting the ground repeatedly. "Maybe we shouldn't do that. Everything has gone very well so far, maybe we shouldn't push our luck, don't you think ?"

Ten finally turns around, an expression on his face that you can't quite decipher. He grabs your hand to bring you closer to him, and with the way his chest presses against yours, you are pretty sure he can feel how hard your heart beats. "Come on, sunshine." he says, fingers brushing against your cheeks so softly that you are not sure if it is really happening. "We don't have anything to lose, and we will find each other again no matter what." He is right, you know that, but for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that it could be the last time.

"It took me 2 more years to find you this time. It's getting longer every time. What if I can't find you again after that ? What if I'm left alone for the rest of my life and the others ?" you take a deep breath, trying hard not to embarrass yourself even more in front of Ten. "You promised me I would never be alone." your voice is shaky, barely above a whisper and Ten laughs, at least until he sees your eyes filling with tears.

"And I plan on keeping my promise. No matter how long it takes, I will find you every time." He says, and his face is so close to yours that you can smell the faint and sweet smell of his cologne. You feel a sudden rush of helplessness when he kisses you, your hands gripping his shoulders to stay grounded. "It's now or never, my love."

He lets go of your face, and he turns on his heels to open the lock of the backdoor. "You know what to do, right ?" he asks, and you nod. Of course you do, especially after repeating the plan so many times on the way to the house. "Perfect. Let's meet up in thirty minutes in the soma (south marais)." He kisses your cheek, and you have to resist the urge to grab his arm, and to force him far away from here, far away from the life he has always known.

The hideout is only a few miles away from the house, which should be close enough in case anything happens. But there is no reason, right ? You sigh. "Please, be careful." you go around the house, and as soon as you see the door, you knock as quickly as possible. The burn of the wood against your knuckles helps you focus on the task.

"Help, please, help !" you scream, banging your fist against the front door. At first nothing happens, but after a few minutes, the lighs turn on behind the tinted windows on each sides of the door. When the door opens, you start to pants, your eyes focusing on the owner of the house, an old man wearing a red dressing gown. "Please, help me. I-my car broke down." you say hurriedly, with the most botched accent. "I- I was just tru-trying to go buy some medicine for my little brother. He-he is alone and sick and-and I don't know what to do, or who to call."

The man seems lost, but only for a minute. He grabs his keys, and steps out of the house. You wonder how he managed to understand and especially to believe what you just said because that was some lame improvisation you just did. "Which one is yours ?" he asks, and you lead him down the street, to a car Ten forced open a couple of hours ago, when he was sure that the owner would not leave his apartment again. "Open the hood, would you." you sit in front of the steering wheel, and you press the button for the hood.

You do not pay the slightest attention to the man who looks at the engine of the car, too busy looking at the old man's house. You are pretty sure to see Ten's shadow behind the window of the first floor, and you honestly wish it was him, and not another resident. "Start the engine." you hear him say, and you freeze. Ten never told you how to use the cables to start a stolen car.

"Alright, alright." You grab the cables, and you try rubbing them, but nothing happens. So when the man looks at you, you shrug and he goes right back behind the hood. One of the lights turn on and off a few times. The sign. It's time to get the fuck out of here. You get out of the car, to join the man who slightly jumps. "Would you mind calling a car repairer for me ?" you cock your head on the side, with the softest smile and he nods.

"Of course, follow me." you obey, and when he enters the house, you hope Ten found a way out in time. You see the man rummaging through the drawers to find a cellphone he probably hasn't used in weeks. When he turns around, you just run. You run for dear life, ignoring the burn of your lungs screaming for you to stop, to catch your breath, but you can't. Not right now. You only slow down when you catch sight of the fairy lights from one of the marais' shops.

"Oh fuck." You mutter when you feel bile going up your throat, clearly out of shape for such a run. Being in Paris is a fascinating experience because nobody watches you as you walk down the street, fingers pressing against your side, sweaty and breathless. You turn in the dark alley where Ten told you to wait earlier. It is really dark, no light in sight, but it is still comforting.

Twenty minutes pass, and Ten is not here. You try, you really try, but eventually, fear starts to invade your nerves. What if someone saw him and called the cops ? What if he had an accident on his way here ? You rub your eyes, and you notice how tears started to roll down your red cheeks, the adrenaline slowly draining away from your body.

"Yn ?" You turn your head in time to see Ten. He has the biggest smile on his face, and he holds a necklace like the most precious trophey he has ever had. All of that for a necklace ? You shake your head, getting out of your hiding spot to walk toward him. But before you can even reach the curb, a car rushes towards Ten probably after running the red light.

"Ten !" you scream at the top of your lungs, and then, everything seems to slow down. Ten's body hit the hood of the car, his torso and head smashing against the windshield while his arms and legs are flailing, searching for somewhere to hold and stop the movement. The only sounds that fill your ears are the crushing of glass mixed with the distinct crackles of his bones. The car stopps, only for a minute, and from the broken windshield, you can see the hesitation on the driver's face. The reality hitting him at full speed.

The person drives away from Ten's inert body. You suddenly find yourself on your knees beside him, you didn't even remember ordering your body to move. Blood is running down his nose, and mouth and his chest is barely moving. "Ten, Ten, please wake up. Open your eyes." You say, frantic. "You promised ! You promised goddamit !" Your body is shaken by your sobs when Ten finally opens his mouth.

"Wake up."

Suddenly the voice is completely different, and when you open your eyes, the boy, the street in Paris, the broken glass, everything is gone, and you are alone in your bedroom. Your heart beats so hard that it hurts, and your face is wet with tears. You are still shaken up by the obvious dream you had. Even if the boy's face starts to fade, his words, and the sound of the crash still cloud your mind. You wince at the sound of your phone ringing on the bedside table.

From Mother : Today is the last day before I throw out all the stuff, hurry up.

You never had that kind of dream before, it felt so real, so comforting to be with him, so painful to lose him. It was almost like your body remembered something your brain couldn’t. His words had stuck with you in the shower. “I plan on keeping my promise. No matter how long it takes, I will find you every time.” For some reason, it made your heart ache. You thought that like every other dream, you would forget about it, but you didn’t. You even found yourself rubbing at your hands to wipe away the blood you had in the dream.

As hard as it is to stop thinking about your dream, you unfortunately have to brush it away to look for your older brother. As per usual, he was in his bedroom with his headset, and his game controller glued to his hands.

“Could you drive me to grandma’s ?” He barely looks up from his game, and he shrugs. “Please ? Grandma said I could take some of the old books she had, and mom is ready to throw everything away.”

In no time, Hansol is on his feet, he would never miss an opportunity to piss off your mother. The latter was way too happy when your grandmother passed away, too happy to be the new owner of the house she had be longing on for years.

“Let’s go.” He says, and you follow him out of the apartment to the parking. The ride to the house is pretty quiet, except for the weird noises coming from the old’s car engine. Hansol is the quiet type of guy, and you don’t mind as much usually, but today you feel restless. Probably because of the images of the crash playing in your mind.

“Can I ask you a question ?” When he nods, you take a deep breathe. “Have you met your soulmate already ?” Hansol freezes, hands still on the steering wheel, you know it is a sensitive subject because Hansol is going to be forced in a marriage by your parents to someone he had never met before. To the daughter of some chairman who promised to help the family’s struggling corporation, but you really need to know. Seeing him nod hurts you. “How does it feel ?”

“As soon as I met them, I understood how vital they are for us. Why they exist. A soulmate is.. it is everything you always wanted and more. They become the better part of you. Suddenly, everything seems brighter. And when you think about the years you spent without knowing of their existence, without having them by your side, you wonder how you did to survive.” He explains in a low voice. “You have the memories of your soulmate from your past life, yes, but it is not enough to fill the void inside your heart. You need them with you.”

He met his soulmate, and now he has to live with the fact that he will never be with them. And it breaks your heart. “Have you met your soulmate ?” He asks and you shake your head. “It’s probably for the best.” You want to apologize, to say something, but it is not your fault, and he knows it. It is your parents fault.

“Wait a minute !” You say suddenly when the boy parks in front of the house. He turns to look at you with a frown. “Memories of your soulmate from your past life ? What ?” Hansol rolls his eyes, and gets out of the car. “What is wrong with you ? Have you suddenly forgotten everything?”

You go up the driveway to the front door, Hansol muttering under his breath about how dumb you had to be to forget about the most important part of the whole soulmates thing, especially after hearing your parents talk about it for years. The door opens on your mother, and she looks at you and sighs.

“You have an hour, after that, everything is leaving.” You nod, and she takes a step out of the house, and you enter. It feels weird to be in the house after your grandma’s passing. No cooking smell, no crackling sound coming from the old turntable, just an odd silence.

The door to the reading room is ajar, which is weird. Your mother particularly hate this room, so she wouldn’t have come inside. You push the door completely open, trying to ignore the weird feeling of being watched, and the faint smell of smoke. The room consists of large bookcases against the walls, frames on old pieces of furnitures and a whole lot of trinkets your grandmother loved so much.

A box on the armchair catches your attention, it is open. You take a step toward said box to put it on the floor. It contains a lot of pictures, yellowed by time and burnt at some places. Under the photos, you find letters, you notice how the ink started to disappear, the paper seems to be stained with dried tears. Everything is covered in dust, and blowing on it only makes you cough hard enough for your lungs to burn. And under a bunch of old books, you find a silver colored pouch, a medaillon is inside but it is broken. Either by time, or by the weight of the books.

“My one and only.” You read on the back of the medaillon, and before you can try and open it, the sound of broken glass makes you jump, reminding you of your dream. You put your hands on your ears to cover the noise, and it takes you a couple of minutes for your heartbeat to calm down. Finally, you get up, medaillon still in hands, and you find Hansol in the living room. “What was that ?” You ask, and he shrugs. The floor is covered with sharp pieces of glass from an old vase. “Isn’t that the vase mom wanted to sell ?”

“Well, guess she won’t have that !” Of course, you think. “Now get out of the room, I know you, you’re going to hurt yourself.” He knows you, so you go back to the reading room. You gather a few trinkets and more books into the opened box. It is sad to think it is the last time you will see this room, the last time you will smell the dust mixed with the roses. But it’s life.

“We can go.” You tell your brother who also has a box in his arms. The way back to the apartment is quiet, and it gives you the opportunity to think about the dream you had the night before. It was scary, and it felt like some sort of déjà-vu. But it was not possible, because to this day, you have never seen a car accident, and especially, you never went to Paris. And the boy.. that boy, just thinking about it brings tears to your eyes.

"Are you okay ?" Hansol asks, and you shrug slightly. "You can always talk to me, you know ?" you nod, of course you know. Your brother is the only person in your family that will always be there no matter what.

"I just had a weird dream last night, and I can't seem to forget about it. I mean, not all of it." You say, and he encourages you to continue. "Like, I can remember the details of the dream, what happened, the sound, and weirdly enough even the smell. But when I try to remember the boy I was with it's just..foggy." He laughs softly, and you turn to look at him. "What's so funny ?"

"What you had was not a simple dream." he starts. "It was memories. And the boy you can't remember ? It was probably your soulmate." It makes sense. But it was the first time you had one of those, why now ? What changed ? Your eyes widden when you remember one tiny detail. The old lady the day before. The one who asked you to pick from her book of colours. Are you in the alternate reality she told you about before you chose silver ?

"Oh my god." you whisper, and Hansol doesn't try to understand what is going on. He rolls his eyes, and he parks the car before getting out, so you follow him with the box in your arms. You feel silly for not thinking about Cyan before, it was so obvious. Especially after spending so many years without finding any kind of trace of your soulmate.

Once in your room, you put the box on the bed, and you sit opposite to retrieve the pouch with the medallion that you did not have time to watch in detail apart from the fact that it was impossible to open and the engraved words. It seems old, and it is rusty on the edges but still beautiful. You close your eyes, and you see him. You see the boy from last night.

He is smiling, his fingers brushing against the medaillon around your neck. “It is gorgeous.” he whispers fondly. “But not as gorgeous as you.” you feel the heat go up to your cheeks, and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze. He is not tall, nor muscular but he is intimidating.

“As beautiful as the medaillon is, you shouldn’t have done that.” You hear yourself say and he shrugs. Ten hasn’t been allowed to enter the Ji family’s property for several years, frankly, since you discovered he was your soulmate. Your family always hated him, that’s why this morning he entered by the window, scaring you, like the thief he is, to offer you the medaillon. “I just want you to be safe.” You whisper.

“I am always safe, the proof is that I’m here.” If at first it was hard to believe that a thief could be your soulmate, you were used to it by now, and you could no longer imagine your life without him, his loud laugh and obnoxiously bright smile. "With you here, on this earth at the same time as me, and all mine, I would never do anything that could potentially endanger me." you tried to ask him to change his way of life, but you quickly gave up. It is what makes him, him. And maybe changing your decision had something to do with the fact that it was bothering your family.

"But I can take it back, you know, if it's bothering you ?" He says in a low voice, and you shake your head covering the medaillon with both your hands.

"Hands off ! That's mine now." You take a step back, and Ten laughs. Stolen or not, it's a gift and you intend on keeping it preciously. If you knew it would cause you so much trouble, pain, you would have thrown it away without a second thought.

When you open your eyes again, you are back in your room and once again, the boy’s face fades right away. The medaillon was the same as the one you are holding, even if it was in a better state and seemingly brand new. “Why are you here ?” You mutter to the medaillon, trying to ignore the ponding headache who settled in while your eyes were closed. It was fate for you to find the medaillon in your grandmother’s room, even though you do not remember ever seeing her wearing it or even showing it to you.

You don’t really know how to take it from here, what to do or where to look. You take the silvery pouch to put the medaillon inside, but when you open it, you notice a little card. A business card. “Le bazar des rêves, antiquarian.” with the address of the shop which is not so far from your apartment. So you get up, to once again, burst into your brother's room. "Can you driv-"

"No ! Take your legs and walk." He answers before you even have time to finish your question, so you sigh. You grab your jacket, the pouch and the shop's adress. Weirdly enough, you have never seen this shop before, maybe it is just a change from the alternate reality. The surprise does not come from the objects in the shop, but rather from the person behind the counter.

"Cyan ?" You ask, and the lady turns around with a bright smile. In your memories, her hair was jetblack but now it is gray and it shines under the neon lights of the shop. It is honestly mesmerizing.

"I'm glad to see you, y/n." she begins to say, arms crossed against her chest. "I was scared you wouldn't find the medaillon in your grandmother's box." You take a step towards the counter. Is that why the door was open ? Why you felt watched in a room where you used to feel so safe during your childhood ?

"Did you put it there ? Why ? And why do I have memories about this necklace ? About the memories, is that the consequence of the alternate reality ? What am I supposed to do now ? How do I find my soulmate ?" Cyan laughs softly, so many questions in so little time. She turns around to lock the shop, and she beckons you to follow her into the back room. A wooden coffee table is in between two leather armchairs. You sit in one of them, your eyes following Cyan's every moves. "So ?"

“Let’s start with the beginning, shall we ?” When you nod, she takes a seat and starts to play with her bracelet. “The medaillon you are holding was stolen many many years ago. Unfortunately, the thief didn’t know back then that whoever would take it without the permission of its original owner would be hit with what you could call a curse. In a world where soulmates find each other in every life, they would be cursed for eleven lives."

Right now, it does not make a lot of sense to you, you wonder why she tells you all of it ? What is the connection between you and the medaillon ? "And why was I supposed to find it then ?" Cyan sighs, clearly annoyed to be cut in the middle of her explanation. "Sorry, keep going."

"If you have memories about this necklace, it's because your soulmate stole it for you. Because you are the couple cursed by it. You've been coming to see me for ten lives now. Every time, I find a new way to put the medaillon on yours or your soulmate's way, to have you come to me so I can explain once again what is going on." you get up and shake your head, muttering under your breath.

"Wait wait ! You said we would be cursed for eleven lives, right ? And now you said I came to you 10 times. It is the last life with the curse then ?" Cyan nods, finally back to her peaceful smile. "What is the curse about ? Like what is supposed to happen for eleven lives ?" She seems hesitant to answer, which is weird. You hit the ground with your feet. "Please, I need to know what to expect."

"You are not going to like my answer." she says. "And I understand, I really do but please, don't break anything this time, it's not my fault." she takes a deep breath. "You'll have a perfect life, but you or your soulmate are destined to die before the happy ending." Your heart stops instantly. It is cruel. So much death, and so much pain for a stupid medaillon !

"So the car accident." You mutter and Cyan nods, she knows more than what she says and you are grateful for that, you are not sure you can handle more. You swallow dryly, and you sit down, suddenly dizzy.

"What are you doing ?" You ask the boy in front of you, a knee on the ground. "No seriously Ten, come on, get up !" The boy shakes his head and he takes a silver velvet case out of his pocket. He opens it on a beautiful diamond ring, and you find yourself completely mute. The piece of jewlery is stunning, and it shines under the rays of sunshine coming through the curtains of your bedroom. "Where did you steal it this time ?"

The question could break the mood, but Ten laughs out loud. "You may not believe me, but I didn't steal this one." His smile slowly fades, for a more serious look. This is the first time you have seen Ten like that, and it is different from his usual playful self. "I know I should have done this earlier. I also should have done this during our previous lives, but I guess this time I'm a little less stupid." You doubt about it, but you stay quiet.

"I understood how lucky I was the very first time I saw you, the first time my gaze landed on you. So when I learned that we were soulmates, and that we were going to find ourselves life after life? I was ecstatic, because you would be mine for eternity and nobody is as perfect as you are for me. I know, I messed up eight lives ago, but I'm trying my best every time to make our lives better, to improve myself." He says in a soft voice. "We'll find each other again and again, no matter what happens or the time it takes, I know we'll be each other in the end. But I still feel the need to ask you the question. Would you make me the happiest man on earth by marrying me ?"

Ten is a bit shy about his feelings. So hearing him speak takes your breath away, and makes your heart beat so hard in your chest that it could fall at your feet that you wouldn't be surprise. You cock your head, nodding slowly. "Of course I want to marry you Ten. In this life, and in all of the others." Ten rises and kisses you like there is no tomorrow, and it is true, you do not know how long you'll have with him each time.

"I love you, I love you so much." He whispers against your lips in between two kisses, and you smile, cupping his face. "I never thought I could be happier." He grabs your hand, and he puts the ring on your finger. The ring is gorgeous, but knowing that he didn't steal it makes it even more beautiful for you.

“I love you even more.” You say, and you open your eyes when someone clears its throat in front of you. Once again, Ten has disappeared and this time, it’s Cyan who took his place. She is handing you a cup of tea with an apologetic look, probably used of seeing you passed out. “Where can I find him ?” You ask, before sipping on the cup. Your head is pounding, you feel lightheaded and tired, but you need to know how to find him. Your body is craving his presence.

“He hasn't come yet. If you have the medaillon, he has the ring, and he probably hasn’t found it yet.” She explains. As important as the medaillon is because of the curse, the ring is important too because of its sentimental value.

"Did he come every time ?" You ask, and Cyan shakes her head after a couple of minutes.

"Sometimes he needs more informations, sometimes he does not bother and figure the situation by himself, and once even I couldn’t find the medaillon to give it to either of you. But you always found each other no matter what, so don't worry too much." It is hard not to worry. What if this time, you can't find him, then what ? Are you stuck in the alternate reality until you find him ? Are you sent back to your usual world without a clue of how or where to find him ? "Go home, have some rest." She hands you a bottle of pills she found in one of the drawers of an old dresser. "Take one, enjoy at least a night without dream, it's for your own good. I think your brain has had enough for the day."

You get up, but before leaving the shop, you turn around to ask. "What does he look like ? How am I supposed to recognize him ?"

Cyan smiles softly. "You'll know it's him, trust me."

In the two weeks following Cyan's revelation, nothing happened. No dreams, no flashbacks, nothing at all. Just a feeling of emptiness and sadness. Fortunately, you had other things to do to avoid thinking about this boy whose memories are increasingly erased as time goes by. To avoid feeling this intense fear of completely forgetting the existence of your soulmate. Because what if you did ? What if one day you woke up with nothing left of him ? What if one day, the medaillon on your bedside table was just a piece of jewelry you found at your grandmother's place ? What if one day, you were back to your usual reality with nothing ? That's a lot of scary thoughts you are trying to run away from.

Preparing for your brother's wedding was taking up a lot of your time, and you have never been more excited to go home than at that moment, the key in the lock. "What?" You whisper in disbelief when the key does not turn. Pushing the door is enough to open it, which is strange, since Hansol is getting to know his future wife on the other side of town.

Your first thought is a burglary. So you expect to find things all over the floor, and maybe broken things, but none of that. On the contrary, you hear music, and footsteps in the kitchen. You close the door silently behind you, and you walk to the kitchen where your gaze is placed on a boy cooking, a cloth on his shoulder. He hums, indifferent to what is going on around him. "Who are you ? How did you get in here ?" You ask, and he jumps, the spatula falling on the ground and he curses under his breath.

He doesn't turn around, still focusing on whatever he is cooking. "Well, you know how good I am at lock-picking, and you only have one lock on your door and I just happened to have my lock-picking set with me, so you know." He says with a shrug, and you shake your head. Who the hell is he, thinking it is alright to pick your lock. He turns around and he sighs at the frown on your face. "Fine, I'll knock next time.. but in my defense, you were not there, and I was starving."

"Who the fuck are you ?" You ask and he rolls his eyes. He turns one more time to put the pan out of the stove, and you take the time to watch him. Dark gray hair with strikes of pink, a ripped denim jacket, a pair of white jean and he is rather small. He is handsome, that's for sure, but that doesn't take away the fact that he's in your apartment, and that you don't know him.

"I'm Ten." For him, it's obvious, but it doesn't seem to be for you, given the way you look at him. He joins you, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans and he smiles, admiring your face. As beautiful as in his memories. "Your soulmate ?" From beneath his t-shirt, he pulls out a necklace with a ring in place of the pendant. The ring of your dream. The one your soulmate used to ask you to marry him.

"Oh my god." You are at loss of words, you didn't think he would find you that fast, or at all. "How ? How did you know it was me without seeing me first ?" He invites you to sit down, and you oblige.

"I found the ring, and the shop's business card. Cyan explained everything to me, and maybe I found a way to get your address. Afterwards it was quite simple. I only had to wait for someone to come out, until I could find the right person. Until I could find you. Like Cyan said, as soon as I saw you, I knew. I could have come sooner, but I wanted us to be alone. So when I saw that the boy you seemed to be living with had not returned for a few days, I took advantage of the situation and you know the rest, I broke into your apartment when nobody answered the door."

"And what would have happened if my brother had been the one finding you ?" You cock your head to the side, and he winces at the thought.

"Well, guess that my eleventh life would end before officially meeting you." You laugh, not because of the situation, but because you can't imagine your brother being mean to anybody. "But because I'm lucky, you are here. And he is not." He sighs, eating from the plate of food he made. "So, what do you think about everything ? About the curse ?"

"That it was really idiot of you from stealing this necklace !" Ten lowers his head, but he knows there is no bite to your words. "But there's no way you could've known about the curse. The curse it's cruel, and to be honest, I'm glad I can't remember everything. I had one dream where you died hit by a car, and it took me a while to forget about the pain I felt at that moment. I don't want to live that again." You say in a low voice.

“I have seen a couple of your deaths, and I agree, it’s not a pain I want to feel ever again.” Ten lost his cheeky smile at his own words, and your heart aches at the thought of having to live more than one death again. “But I guess we don’t have the choice, as we still have a life to live before our happily ever after.” You almost forgot that you still have to die once before you two can fully be happy. That’s a bummer, really.

"Is there anything we can do to change our fate ?" At your question, Ten sighs, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess it was still worth asking."

"I asked Cyan," Ten starts, "but she said that unfortunately there was nothing we could do to change anything. I guess all we can do right now is to be extra careful with our surrondings, and try to stay as safe as possible."

You get up from your chair, Ten's plate in your hand to put it in the sink and you turn, back against the counter. "I mean, I'm always safe, but can I say the same for you ? You will have to keep your thieving hands to yourself." Ten laughs, and it sounds like music to your ears, and you begin to understand what Hansol had told you in the car. "Stay here. I'll keep your ass in lane."

And keep him in lane is what you did.

For a full month, you found things to keep Ten occupied so that he wouldn't fall back into his bad habits, so that he would not regret agreeing to move in with Hansol and you. It was complicated at times, but Ten always found a way to cheer you up, or make you think of something other than your terrible fate.

And today will be no different.

You wake up in a room that is unknown to you, after a night full of bits and pieces of memories that are forgotten as soon as you open your eyes. The rays of sunshine warm the bare skin of your legs in a pleasant way, but it is not as pleasant as Ten's body heat. His chest against your back, and his arm around your waist, you can't move but you don't mind. Ten and you are polar opposite but you didn't need a lot of time to adapt to him, to his presence, to his antics. You couldn't imagine your life without him anymore.

"Good morning, my love." Ten whispers, lips against your ear. Chills run down your spine, and you turn around to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his sweet scent. "Come on, your mother is going to murder me if you don't get down on time." He rubs his hand up and down your back under your shirt, and you huff. Until today, you would have never thought it was possible to love someone as much as you loved Ten.

"But I want to stay here." Your whine only makes Ten laugh and he hugs you tighter. Your heart feels warm, and so so at peace. In his arms, you forget about everything. Nothing matters except Ten, and the amount of love he has to give.

"You don't have the choice. Go, we'll find each other in a couple of hours." He kisses the top of your head and you get out of bed reluctantly. You put on the sweater he wore the day before and you leave the room, blowing him a kiss.

Today is an important day. Not for you, but for your brother. It's his wedding, and after months of preparation, you're happy to see the end of it. Even if you are apprehensive of seeing your older brother leave and spend the rest of his days with someone he will have to force himself to love, you are happy at the idea of having the apartment for you. You find your mother in one of the many rooms of the country house, and she doesn't waste a minute getting you to work. Between going back and forth to the other rooms, and your own preparations, you can't see the past two hours, you don't even have time to think about Ten or check your phone to see if he tried to contact you.

Ten is already seated in the church when you enter, followed closely by your mother who makes sure everything goes well. He rises when he sees you and your heart stops. He looks absolutely perfect with his expensive black suit, and with his blond hair. He smiles when you approach, whispering a few compliments that you can barely hear over the conversations around you. He takes your hand to give it a kiss, noticing the ring that you haven't removed since he gave it to you when you met. Not that your are engaged or anything, it is only a small reminder of your history, of your love.

“You look stunning.” He says, and you sit beside him, already feeling your cheeks burning. You nudge him in his side, and he huffs softly.

"Shut up, idiot, that's not the place." He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing, but fortunately enough he does not have time to answer because the bride enters the church. You get up, and instead of watching her, you focus solely on Hansol. He looks uncomfortable in his suit, his bangs sticking to his forehead from the sweat, and he moves from one foot to the other.

"He looks like he is ready to pee himself." You could have whack him behind the head if your mother was not watching you, and if you weren't in a church.

"You would be in the same state than him if you had to marry someone that was not your soulmate because your parents are selfish assholes." you mutter, and you feel Ten's arm around your waist. He knows how much the situation bothers you.

"It'll be fine, don't worry. We'll find a way for him to meet his soulmate, and maybe his wife wouldn't mind having hers too." You nod, maybe you could do something for the both of them to be happy. Maybe it could be another project for Ten and you to avoid any kind of imminent death with any kind of dangerous situation Ten could bring to you.

"Yes, we'll find a way." You whisper as you sit down to watch the rest of the celebration. The vows are beautiful, but they are not sincere, and you almost expect Hansol to run out of the church but he doesn't. He kisses his bride, and they leave with the applause of the guests. "Come on, let's go pretend to be happy for them, and maybe get drunk."

Ten is more than fine with that, so he takes your hand and gets out of the church behind your family. The party takes place in the garden of the country house, and the least you can say is that it is magnificent. Well it is normal with the amount of money invested in a single marriage. A forced one at that.

The toast is rather quick, with a few memories shared by the bridesmaid and the groomsman. "Well that was awkward." Ten says, a glass of champagne in hand. You wonder how much your mother had paid your brother's best friend to keep his speech pg13. Because you know how bad and nasty some of their memories together are.

"She looks stupid when she forces herself to laugh. And Hansol looks like an imbecile standing like that. Poor kids." You sigh, gulping the rest of your own glass of champagne. "It's really sad. Especially now that I have you, that I know how good it feels to be reunited with your soulmate. I don't even want to think how they are feeling."

The boy makes you turn, cupping your face in his hands. You've never seen so much love in someone's eyes, and it makes your heart beat so much faster, so much stronger. "I love you so much y/n. The curse sucks, but do you have any idea how lucky I feel when I think about all of the lives we had together, and the lives we'll have in the future ? I could never have asked for a better soulmate, you are everything I ever wanted and even more." Ten looks like he has more to say, but he closes his mouth.

"I love you even more, Ten. Curse or not, we are lucky enough to be on this earth at the same time, every time and that's all that matters to me. Don't think about anything else." Of course, he doesn't know about the book of colours, or the alternate reality. The less he knows, the better. Right now, you content yourself with his presence. "Enjoy the moment."

Ten smiles back, hand reaching to run through your hair and he kisses you gently. Every time he kisses you, it's like a fire lights up in the pit of your stomach. It's addicting. He licks your bottom lip, and you are ready to oblige when you feel a hand on your shoulder. "Have a little decency. You'll kiss Ten at your wedding." As much as you are annoyed at your mother for interruptiong the kiss, you don't mind her comment one bit. It is actually nice to think of yours and Ten's wedding. The one you never had the chance to have even after so many lives together. Maybe the next could be the good one ?

"She hates me. She is always here when I'm trying to be a good boyfriend by showing you my love." You roll your eyes, taking a step away from him, and he backhugs you right away, watching as the newly weds dance for the first time together.

Ten never leaves your side all day, except to go and grab you another glass of champagne, or wine. And yes, maybe that by the end of the evening, you are feeling warm and tipsy. Ten is as tipsy as you are, laughing out loud every time he sees Hansol with his phone under the groom's table, or when he tramples your feet every time he lures you onto the dance floor.

The hangover is going to be long and painful, but you don't care. You bath in the warmth of Ten's body, and for the first time ever, you feel happy, truly happy. And you don't want the night to end. But it has to.

"Let's head to bed." Ten smiles, lips against the skin of your neck.

The way to the room is pretty dangerous and long, mostly because of the stairs and your lack of sense of direction. Ten clings to your arm, laughing softly, complimenting everything from the walls to the frames, and even the door handles. You try to open several doors before finding the one of your room, and you scream, victorious.

"Oh shit." You mutter when you hear the guest in the next room groaning. "Sorry to whoever you are, it was not me." You enter the room, and without even taking the time to undress, you drop on the bed. He lies down next to you, turning on his side to put his face on your chest, and you thread your fingers through his blonde hair. You want to open your mouth, say something, but the silence is comforting. And soon you hear his breathing calm down. Ten is asleep. You close your eyes, and fall into a deep slumber fairly quickly, probably because of the alcohol.

When you wake up the next morning, you are surprised to feel the comforter covering your body, and the cushion under your head, because in your memories, you fell asleep across the bed, Ten against you. When you open your eyes, a sob leaves your lips. The light is too intense, but it is nothing against the migraine that keeps you from thinking.

"Ten ?" You swallow, your mouth is dry and feels like cotton. You turn your head cautiously, and you smile softly. A bottle of water is placed next to a bottle of aspirine on the bedside table. You straighten to swallow one of the pills, your eyes focusing on the note next to the lamp.

"My love, first of all, I want to apologize for the words that you are about to read. And I really hope you can understand. The last two months with you have been incredible, I could never have asked for more. I do not know if I have ever been as happy as I am since I met you. Last night made me realize that even if I love you more than anything in the world, we cannot be together. We will not have our happy ending in this life, that's why I decided to leave. I can't imagine losing you, seeing you die before my eyes without being able to change the course of things. And I don't want to have to think about the pain you might feel if I died in your arms. I only ask you for one thing: don't look for me. Be happy, don't put yourself in unnecessary danger, because we both know we will find each other again. I don't know where, or even when, but I know from the bottom of my heart that you will wait for me as much as it's needed, as I would wait for you until the end. Don't be mad, please. I love you. Ten."

The paper is stained by the tears running down your cheeks, and the ink is already starting to fade. Is that the pain of losing someone you love that you are feeling? The pain of a broken heart? Because if that's it, you refuse to feel it any longer. It's too much for you. You get up, unable to breathe. The room is too small, and too hot, it's stuffy. Everything is too much.

"I cant. I can't do it. Please take me back. I don't want this life if Ten is not in it. Please." You fall on your knees, not even blinking at the burn of the carpet. It hurts, it's unbearable. "Please, please." You close your eyes, lying on the side with your knees against your chest. "Bring me back !" You scream, your voice breaking into a painful sob. You are overreacting, you know that, but you can’t help, it hurts so much.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Hansol says with a sigh. "living with her." You stop dead in your track to look at your older brother who came to visit you. It is not something you thought you would ever hear from him, but you are glad. Even if it's not the happiness he was expecting all his life, he still deserves it.

"Really ? That's good then." The older boy nods.

"Mostly because I took your advice. I had a talk with her about our respective soulmates." you lower your gaze on the ground for a second but you tell him to keep going, no matter how much it hurts to hear anything related to a soulmate. "We decided to stay together for the parents, to do what they expect us to do whilst trying to make things work with our soulmates. And so far, it's been great."

You turn to the door of the shop, key in your hand as Hansol puts his hand on your shoulder to force you to look at him. "He'll find you." You told Hansol about Cyan, and her book of colours, the time you had in the alternate reality, and even if at first he had a hard time believing you and your words, he finally came around after a few months.

"It's been a year already.. I don't know, I wonder if having hope is not as bad as losing it." When you woke up that one morning after you brother's wedding in the other reality, on your own and full of memories of Ten, you ran to the shop to ask Cyan if the life you had there was counted as one, or if you still had to see him die before your well deserved happy ending. You remember crying to the point of passing out when Cyan told you that yes, the time you had in the alternate reality was indeed counted a full life. You being back meant that you could finally have your happy ever after. But when ? You didn’t know.

And since then, you had started to see him everywhere. At the corner of a street, waiting in front of your apartment, but it was only your mind playing tricks on you every time.

"Don't lose hope. He promised, remember ?" You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. "I have to go, but I'll come back next week, alright ?" And with that, the boy leaves.

You finally open the door of the shop, and you open the lights ones after the other, inhaling the familiar scent of dust. A few months ago, Cyan contacted you to offer you a job in her shop. She thought that maybe it would be easier for you to find Ten. You had doubts at first, and yet you come to work every morning. Sitting behind the counter, you watch the passers-by behind the window, hoping that one day it will be Ten. But so far, no success.

Working at "Le bazar des rêves" is interesting. You like hearing stories behind some of the objects people are bringing in, even if most of them are heartbreaking, maybe you need that sort of pain to help you stay sane. You turn the pages of an old book when the door opens, but when you look up, no one is there. You shrug, the wind likes to scare you sometimes. Or maybe it is a spirit using an object as a vessel, who knows. Cyan told you some crazy stories.

"Excuse me, I found this ring with the adress of the shop ?" The voice makes you jump, not because of how familiar it sounds, but because you weren't expecting anyone. Your face break into a smile when your eyes land on a boy with long pink hair, and brown eyes ready to turn into a sunset of its own with the slightlest ray of sunshine.

"Oh, this ring is really special, would you like to hear its story ?" The boy seems incapable of taking his eyes off of you, you can practically hear the conflicts inside his heads as he tries to remember if he ever met you before, and why everything about you feels familiar. Like his body remembered something his brain couldn't.

"I'd like that, I guess." You beckon him to follow you in the backroom of the shop.

Hansol was right. Ten did promise.

#cznnet #wayv #nct #wayv imagines #nct imagines #wayv scenarios #nct scenarios #ten scenarios #ten imagines

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years ago

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Fortune’s Rule, Part 3

Ok, I thought this was going to be a 3-parter but, once again... it got away from me. So this is the third part and I’m almost entirely sure it’s the second last part.

Part One Part Two

Pairing: Damian Priest x OFC

Word Count: 3,902

Content advisory: The smut has arrived!

Indeed, for the rest of the night, you’re lost in your thoughts. ‘Damian’ you repeat in your head, thinking of how well the name seems to suit him but not knowing why. Damian with his long dark hair and tattoos, and that knowing, sinful smile. You haven’t been attracted to anyone since Johnnie and even that had more or less fizzled out by… you try not to think about it but the images come to you anyway.

It’s the same sort of thing that you dream about, the sensation of being back in the woods, cold and desperate, clinging to the bag of money that still sustains you, shivering at the thought that your boyfriend and best friend might be dying in the water or that they might survive and know that you abandoned them. It’s like you can almost hear them dragging themselves towards you, broken steps from broken bodies.

“Excuse me?” a sharp voice snaps you back to reality.

“Yes,” you stammer, “I’m sorry.”

“Two PBR,” the young man says, his voice making it clear that he’s repeating this.

You nod and turn around to get the chilled bottles out of the fridge but when you stand again, your body freezes and one of the bottles slips right out of your hand and shatters on the floor. For a second, you see Cynthia in the alley across the street, next to Damian’s store, slowly advancing from the shadows in the same terrible state she is in your dreams.

But then a man emerges from the alley, adjusting his belt to make it clear what he was just doing. He sports a vest covered with badges and short, crimson hair but he is nothing like Cynthia. He jogs to catch up with a small group of punks and they all take off together, which leaves you in shock, standing in a rapidly expanding puddle of beer laced with broken glass.

You sheepishly take a third beer from the fridge and hand them to the customer, not even bothering to count the money he drops on the bar before grabbing a couple of towels to soak up the mess. It takes that plus an entire roll of paper towels and a thorough mopping to clean up the mess and even then, you’re not certain you got all of it. The scent of cheap beer is in your nostrils for the rest of the night.

Of course, this would be the night that you have customers lingering until nearly two, stretching out the time before you can take Damian up on his offer. But the sign in his shop stays lit, like a beacon letting you know you can find your way there no matter how late you come. So you let the customers stay and serve them as long as they ask. And when they’re gone you make yourself go through the closing rituals to the last detail.

When you go to shut down the lights, you feel yourself shiver a little and you could swear that you see a shadow moving somewhere in the back but you turn and rush out of the place, locking the doors and closing the security gate before rushing to find out what your dark stranger has to tell you.

You’re frightened by the screech of tires, a car Plotinus down the road well above the speed limit, loaded with kids blasting some sort of trap beats and hollering at you for interrupting their ride. You could swear that you looked down the street when you started to cross and saw nothing. Shaken, you instinctively grip your bag to your side and scurry the rest of the way to the shop door, ringing the bell as a handwritten sign instructs.

There’s a loud buzz and you push open the door, much heavier than it looks, to find yourself in a dimly lit cavern of strange and slightly ominous artefacts, jars of leaves and roots, rough crystals and many, many books in a wide range of languages you’ve never seen before.

“So you decided to come,” the familiar voice greets you from behind the cash. He’s bent over, arms folded on the counter, sharp eyes fixed on you with that same, inscrutable smile that seems his natural state.

“I guess I was curious.”

You shuffle forward slowly, surprised that even stooped the way he is, he’s still taller than you. It’s like he’s a human projected on a screen, huge and frightening.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he soothes. “Or what I have to offer.”

Your first instinct is to insist that you’re not scared but you know damn well it’s obvious you are. You give him a weak smile.

“I don’t know if I believe in any of this,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t need you to believe in it.” He rises and pulls aside a sheer curtain that leads to a back room glowing with crimson light. “Follow me.”

A street-smart person, the sort of person you’d like to think you are, would tell him to go fuck himself and head for the door. Who knows what he’s got waiting back there? Certainly not you, who couldn’t put up a fight against him under any circumstances, with every dollar to your name slung over your shoulder. He could skin you alive and it’s doubtful no one would ever hear your screams.

Damian raises his eyebrow a little and steps back to allow you to pass. And you do, entering the room so that your back is to him, so that you wouldn’t even see an attack coming.

He circles around you, eyes fixed on your body the entire time. You grip the strap of your bag involuntarily. If he’s a charlatan peddling hoodoo, there’s no reason to think he would have a problem with direct theft.

“I’m not going to steal your money,” he tells you. “I told you, this is on the house.”

He takes a seat at a round table at the center of the room and motions for you to take the chair opposite him. You follow his direction as he picks up a deck of cards, running them thoughtfully through his large but surprisingly graceful hands.

“Take these,” he says, placing the cards in front of you. “I want you to shuffle them and when you’re done, I want you to cut them into three piles from right to left.”

The cards are awkward in your hands, larger than a playing deck, and you feel clumsy as you move them around, trying desperately not to drop any.

“How long do I shuffle them for?”

“Until it feels like you should stop.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes at this but you keep shuffling, pleased as you get the hang of it and then, suddenly, your mind just tells you to stop. It’s like you hear a literal voice and your hands stop moving without you even having to think about it. You lay the deck out in thirds and he nods to show you that you’re doing it right before picking them up.

He pauses, running his palm over the cards before laying them out in an odd pattern. He stops and starts several times, reacting like he’s reading a book, except that the book is you and you can’t tell if he likes what he sees.

“So I was right about the accident,” he says quietly, his eyes still studying the strange images in front of him. “That’s a bad injury you’re carrying.”

“It hurts sometimes. It’s not so bad.”

He shakes his head and locks his eyes on yours. “You don’t believe that.”

He runs his fingers over one particular triad of cards, nodding as he does.

“But you did get some money from it.”

“Insurance,” you croak.

He shakes his head more emphatically. “No, you’re not telling the truth. This didn’t come from any legal means. You did something bad to get it. Maybe that’s why that bag always feels so heavy.”

“It feels heavy because I have everything that’s mine in it.”

“You live alone like a hermit. You work at a job that pays you under the table, I think. You’re cut off from everyone and everything. And what you have you carry with you everywhere.”

“I told you that last part. And the rest is stuff you could have guessed just from watching me.”

“You think I’ve been watching you?”

You stiffen because the truth is that you’ve been watching him, wondering about him, wanting to speak to him with something like the casual confidence he has speaking to you.

“Well I have,” he adds with a quick wink.

You feel your whole body flush and look down to hide the excitement that you know is in your eyes.

“When I say you’re carrying everything with you, I’m not just talking about a bag of money.”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me now? Or question me?”

“Psychoanalysis never gets a person as far as I can get. And I don’t have to question you because everything is right here.” He waves his hand over the table. “I just have to put the pieces together. I told you, it’s a gift.”

You purse your lips and he looks down at the cards again. Occasionally, he’ll draw a new one and place it over top of others.

“If you’re going to get where you need to go, you have to let go of all this.” He looks at your tense face and clarifies, “And, no, I don’t mean your money. The money doesn’t really mean anything.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never been without it.”

“Fair enough. I’ve always been able to get what I need. But you can’t. No matter how careful you are with that bag of loot, you’re not going anywhere until you confront what’s really weighing you down.”

This time, you do roll your eyes because it’s starting to sound like he’s recruiting you to a cult.

“Those nightmares are going to continue and they’re going to get worse, you know.”

For the first time, you sit bolt upright and let out a little gasp.

“The cards aren’t telling me what it is, not yet. Which means it’s pretty dark.”

“So how do I deal with it.”

Damian reaches across the table and takes one of your hands in his, turning it upward so that he can see your palm. You assume he’s reading it but instead he strokes along your fingers and between them, his touch like a moth’s wings. He hisses as he feels you tremble at the stimulation. It’s like he’s opening something up in you, delicately brushing aside the stitches that hold you together. He works his fingers up from your hand, over your wrist, never exerting any greater pressure, exhaling in a long, soft sigh as he trails his fingertips up the inside of your arm, coming to rest in the hollow of your elbow. Lifting his hand away, he stares deep into you, and it’s like he’s pushing and pulling the breath into and out of you with his own, at the same languid pace.

Placing your arm back on the table, he cuts a glance to the side of the room. Following his gaze, you’re surprised to see a couple of sinks with chairs in front of them, hairdressers’ stations.

He smiles when he sees your confusion. “The place was a hair salon before I bought it.”

“And you decided to leave those here in case the fortune telling business got slow?”

“Maybe,” he laughs. “Actually, I like them. They help.”

“They help you see the future?”

He turns back to you, his expression dead serious. “They help me help others.”

He stands and takes both your hands, guiding you back to your feet.

“In order for people to overcome their obstacles, they need to cleanse themselves and release what’s inside them, or else they’ll never be able to understand what it is.”

“Is that what you think I need?”

He steps close to you so that you can smell his skin, musky with layers of herbs like the ones he sells, wicked, magical scents that make your skin prickle. He doesn’t speak, but touches your head, running his fingers through your head and over your scalp, pressing slightly on certain points as he strokes all the way down to the base of your neck. He repeats the action and as he does, you swear you can feel the circulation increasing. Your forehead throbs but it’s not like before; it’s like there’s something leaking out of you.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let it out.”

Your head falls back but he cradles it there, his free hand continuing to trace patterns on your skin. At first, it’s like he’s putting you to sleep but then it starts to feel like he’s waking you up, that you’re becoming more alert than you have been in a long time. The scent of him seems to thicken and grow earthier, greener, wetter, but you realize it’s not him at all. It’s the forest and the river and once again you’re cold and alone. Tears leak from your eyes. All you want is the power to say that one word: Help.

And then you’re back in the red-lit room. Damian is standing flush against you, cupping your face in his hands and regarding you with a knowing expression.

“Come,” he whispers and leads you to one of the hairdressers’ stations.

He eases your aching body into one of the chairs and adjusts it so that you’re reclined with your head tipped back into the sink. You feel the water on your skin but it’s the strangest sensation, like it’s the exact same temperature, so perfect and comfortable you feel like you could enjoy it forever.

Damian runs his hands gently through your hair, separating it and working through the tangles with the precision of a surgeon. He moves your head from side to side, manipulating the knots in your neck and smoothing everything up and out into the water.

Then you feel something thick and balmy, something that smells like rosemary and lavender and sage, things you remember from your grandmother’s garden, lifetimes ago. He works the substance through your hair, into your scalp, the pressure of his touch slightly heavier now, like he’s coaxing something to the surface.

He rinses you clean and presses your hair into a towel and finally you open your eyes, only to have him run his hand over your face.

“No, just relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

In your whole life, you’ve never had a man wash your hair before. But no man has ever made you feel the things you’re feeling now before. So you close your eyes again as he moves away.

For a few seconds, you don’t know where he’s gone, but then you feel his hands on your thighs, just above your knees, the heat from them radiating upward. You immediately tense but he presses his hands down a little more firmly.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “Let me help you”

His hands slide up, lifting your shirt so that your stomach is exposed. You flinch again and then you feel his breath against your abdomen, the light touch of his lips trailing over the skin while he wraps his hands around the small of your back and lifts a little. With his tongue, he draws a line from just below your breastbone all the way down to the low-slung waist of your denim shorts, pausing slightly to press a soft kiss on the edge of your navel that makes you shiver.

He unbuttons your shorts, kissing the hollow between your hips and flicking his tongue over it. You glance down and his eyes are fixed on yours. He stops moving.

“Put your head back. Let yourself go.”

You want to tell him that you’d like to be an active part of what’s happening but the look in his eyes makes you think that he has something in mind and you want to know what it is. So you let your head rest and close your eyes, focusing only on the feeling of the man between your legs.

He slides your shorts and panties down in one smooth movement and runs his palms up your thighs. Then he leans in again, his breath hot against your pussy, and even that has you releasing a few needy sounds and lifting your hips, trying to get him to dive in.

Instead, he lowers his head a little and kisses all along the folds of flesh, exploring them with his lips and tongue, humming in satisfaction when he feels your body react, or when another sound escapes you. He presses his tongue at the very back of your opening and slowly draws it along, all the way up to your swollen clit, which he captures between his lips and sucks gently for a second before releasing it again.

It’s like the rest of your body isn’t even there and that the only part of you that’s real is your starving core. Every sensation you can feel is coming from his attention and the rest of you is floating in some sort of suspended animation. He rests his hands on your hips, pressing his thumbs into the depressions next to the bone and even that seems to build your excitement. Then he starts to push his tongue inside you, pressing against every nerve at your entrance firmly and with unerring precision.

As he does this, you feel like part of you has escaped. It’s like you’re standing over your own body, looking down at the still figure of a woman, throat flushed, gasping for air, crying out feebly for something.

Damian flattens his tongue and works it around your clit again, soft strokes at first, then swirling it in tight circles and then flicking the engorged bead enough to make you feel like you’re about to explode before he returns hungrily to your dripping folds, massaging the fleshy mound just above your clit with those long fingers.

He rocks back and forth, shifting between your pulsing labia and clit until your whole body is trembling, something you seem able to see from your vantage point hovering overhead. You’re clutching at the arms of the chair, at the edge of the sink, at anything. Your cries are getting shorter and sharper as the tension increases.

This time, he doesn’t shift positions. He works on you determinedly until your orgasm erupts and as it does, it’s like the whole of your body opens and some sort of energy flows out, something hot and light and wonderful that continues for ages. And it’s not like you haven’t had lots of orgasms but this is something completely different. It’s like your body has melted against this man’s mouth, like the orgasm isn’t going to stop although, finally, it subsides and your body closes itself up again.

You’re so weak you can’t even move. When he appears next to you, offering a bottle of water, he has to help you sit up before he tilts the bottle so that you can drink from it.

“Take it easy,” he murmurs, wrapping one massive arm around your shoulders to keep you steady. “You’ll be ok in a couple of minutes.”

Your head hurts but it’s a different pain, softer and more diffused, like something you could forget once you had something else to focus on. Damian, meanwhile, has pulled up a chair and is watching you, arms resting on his knees. And still there’s that coy smile.

“I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting…” you stutter. “Thank you?”

His smile broadens and he runs his hand lightly down the side of your neck. “I told you, you need to relax a bit so that whatever you’ve got inside there can escape.”

You shudder. “I’m not sure I want it escaping.”

“I’ll tell you again: it’s the only way you can deal with it.”

“Does that mean you want me to tell you all my dark secrets?”

“Maybe I know them already.”

You straighten up, a little of your wits returning to you. “I don’t know if you’re that good at reading minds.”

He stands and helps you up, resting his hands on your shoulders. As you get back on your feet, you notice an impressive erection in his pants. You step so that you’re pressed against him and run your hands up his chest, sighing in appreciation when he cups your head in his hands, gently removing the towel and allowing his fingers to weave themselves in your still damp hair.

You mirror the gesture, gripping his dark locks and pulling him down into a kiss. You have to stand on your toes even with him lowering his head, but he steadies you with a hand on your back and gladly returns the kiss, grunting a little when you grind your hips against the bulge in his pants. The intensity builds so that it almost feels like he’s fucking you with his tongue again, like he could make you come like this if he really wanted to, even though it’s physically impossible.

Finally, you pull away, dizzy again, and grip the waistband of his jeans.

“Why don’t I help you with that?” You pant.

He shakes his head and it seems so contradictory to what just happened that it takes you a moment to register that he’s saying no. You dive in for another kiss, which he enthusiastically returns, making you bold enough to rub your hand insistently over his bulge.

He pulls back, shaking his head once again and lifting your hands off him.

“I don’t do that on a first date,” he tells you.

“Are you serious?” He can’t be. You can still taste your pussy on his breath.His hard-on is straining against his pants.

“Yeah I’m serious. I’ll do what I just did for you but for the other… It’s a rule I have.”

“Do you have a rule against me getting on my knees for you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “actually I do.”

You roll your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Some women would think that’s a pretty good arrangement.”

“Well this woman is wondering if she gets a second ‘date.’”

He grins. “You know where to find me sweetheart.”

“Does that mean you want to see me again?”

“I’d love to see you again. But you know that.”

The truth is that you feel like you don’t know anything about this man who seems to know everything about you. He walks you out to the front of the store and bids you goodbye letting his lips trail down your neck and along your collarbone, finishing with a soft, slow kiss to the hollow of your throat.

“Catch you later,” he whispers.

The door closes behind you and you make your way down the stairs, once again feeling unsteady. As you reach the sidewalk, the neon sign shuts off. Whatever business he’d planned on doing tonight ended with you. You linger a few moments, hoping that the door will open and he’ll either tell you to come back or walk down to meet you and take you somewhere that he can work more of his witchcraft on you.

Nothing happens. It stays dark and quiet.

#nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #damian priest fanfic #damian priest imagine #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine

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flamingredanon · 3 years ago

Note

AU where Right and Henry were married before ItA! Henry was a stay-at-home husband and Right is the one with an actual criminal job

Henry was an inspiring thief when he and Right were in high school, but a terrible accident beyond their control caused Henry to get badly injured. He now has a noticeable limp in his right leg and lost use of most of his voice. Right still loves Henry, and Henry still loves Right.

Henry knows about Right being in the Toppats and knows there are sometimes weeks where he doesn't get to see Right, but when Right gets to come home for awhile, Right just melts into Henry's arms and the two just relax and spend as much time as they can together.

Though one night, Right was going to swing by their house and see Henry for a few hours after helping secure the Tunisian Diamond for transport. Though when he pulled up in their driveway, he saw the front door was busted into and windows broken in. Right goes full protective husband mode as he rushes inside his house in search of Henry.

The inside was torn asunder, appliances broken and thrown around, furniture flipped over. Right searched every nook and cranny of his house but Henry wasn't there. Right did find a ripped piece of green camo fabric on one of the broken windows, which meant the Government had taken Henry.

Right returns to the Airship and is just a mix of anger and worry. Anger at the Government for even doing something so low and worry at what they could be doing to his poor husband. Reginald is trying his best to calm Right down, knowing how important Henry is to him, but Right is just too riled up.

Hours had passed and the Toppats still hadn't found any leads to where the Government had taken Henry. Right is still pacing back and forth, and Reginald still can't calm his friend and second in command down. There seemed to be no leads until a strange human sized hamster ball came hurdling towards the Airship.

The ball crashed into the cockpit and Henry came stumbling out, disoriented and clearly in pain. Right is almost instantaneously by Henry's side and is carrying Henry to the Airship's med bay. After Henry is checked over and wounds cleaned and bandaged, Henry tell Right everything that had happened.

He was just putting away the dishes when he heard a knock at the door. It is late at night and when Henry glanced out a window to see Government soldiers outside, he went to hide. Henry heard the Government soldiers shouting and breaking stuff and he already knew there were too many to try to sneak away. Despite his best efforts, Henry was found and dragged off.

Next thing Henry knew, he was in a helicopter and after being beaten for information he didn't have, the Government made a bargain with him, capture Reginald Copperbottom and be a free man or go straight to prison. Henry decided to play along until the Government did whatever they were going to do to get Henry on the Airship, then he knew he would actually be safe.

Right just showers Henry in kisses and gentle hugs, missing his husband so dearly. Reginald decides it is safer for Henry to stay on the Airship and to start providing extra security to the rest of the Toppat families out there still.

While Right would miss coming home to a house filled with fresh cooking and seeing Henry just causally wearing one of Right's shirts and his boxers, Right was atleast glad Henry was safe and that he could spend more time with him.

#lizzyasks #henry stickmin #right hand man #rightmin #reginald copperbottom #kidnapping

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tired-college-student-writing · 5 years ago

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Tim’s Secret Weapon pt. 12

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home.

Part 1

Part 11

Part 12(HERE)

Part 13

____________________________________________

Jason had started cackling as soon as Tim explained why he was cross, pulling the ring from his hand and tossing it back to its proper owner. Damian Bruce and Alfred were intrigued by the prospect by the fact Jason was predestined to be a miraculous wielder. Dick, on the other hand, was pouting at Jason being ‘officially more of a cat than him.’

“You’re not a black cat,” Tim snapped, using the door frame to stay upright, glaring at the stark white number over Jason’s head, “He may claim he’s all about destruction but it’s who he was made into not who he is at his core.”

“What?” Jason huffed, “You’re the one that said my number went up to 15! I’m a cat now, I’m leaving the birds to join Selina.”

“No,” He nearly growled in frustration, staggering over to the couch, “Adrian is the real cat here. At his core, he’s sweet and kind and trustworthy, but he also has chaos at his center. He can destroy a person he believes deserves it without a second thought, tarnish a reputation permanently with no remorse if he believed it was the best course of action, manipulate a person into behaving how he wants with precision and grace without anyone realizing that the ray of sunshine would be able to do so. He’s literally destruction. You aren’t like that Jason, not at your core. You’re a true holder, but you aren’t a Black Cat.”

The room was silent as he finally finished and he couldn’t help, but look around at their stunned faces with confusion. Even the Kwamis had frozen from where they had been whispering on the side table, glancing between each other and Tim.

“What?” He snapped, too tired to deal with anything else tonight.

“You’ve only just met Adrian,” Kim drew out, “And just spouted off stuff I never knew about the sunshine boy with such confidence I’m pretty sure you’re not lying.”

“What do you mean? Of course, I know that stuff, can’t you guys tell it too? That’s just what I can tell from observing if I really wanted to know anything important about him I’d have to do research,” He explained with a groan as he leaned against Dick’s shoulder.

Dick just looked down at him in amazement, “No Timmy, most people can’t tell that kind of stuff just from spending a few hours with someone.”

“Huh? You guys never acted like I was crazy before,” He pointed out looking at his brothers.

“I always assumed you researched our targets before we needed the information,” Bruce hummed, “We had meant to ask you how you knew some of the skills you had listed when you had never met the heroes before making the entries in your journal.”

“I mean I did look up some stuff, but isn’t most of that stuff common knowledge?”

Jason snorted, “I didn’t know Bruce spoke Portuguese before reading his journal entry, replacement. I can say with confidence that there’s no video footage of B or Bats speaking or reading Portuguese anywhere or any reason you should know that before I even kicked the bucket.”

“I…” Tim tried to think back, to why he knew this information, where he had put together the man had known so many languages.

“Tim,” Marinette piped up, “What languages does everyone in here speak?”

“French and English.”

His deadpan earned an eye roll from her, “No, I meant past that. Start with your family and then my team, tell me all the languages. Go.”

He was skeptical of what she was trying to do but decided not to question it, “All the bat speak Mandarin, Spanish, Arabic, and BSL. Bruce knows Romanian, Portuguese, Dutch, Cantonese, and Greek. Alfred speaks German, Italian, Japanese, Russian, and Polish. Dick speaks Romani, Romanian, Dutch, and Russian. Jason has Portuguese, Japanese, Korean, Cantonese, and Russian. I can do Japanese, Romanian, German and Polish.

Damian knows Japanese, Korean, Cantonese, and is just short of fluent in Romanian.”

His eyes turned to the Parisian teens, ignoring the surprise at their extensive list of languages, “ Adrian knows Mardiran and Japanese. Chloe knows Japanese. Kim is fluent in Vietnamese and is nearing passable in German. Max knows Korean and Safan. Alix knows Ancient Egyptian and Arabic. Kagami knows Japanese and Mandarin. Viperion knew quite a bit of Italian but wasn’t quite fluent. Marinette knows Italian, is nearly fluent in Arabic and… actually, I’m not sure what the last one is, but it’s ancient, something close to Sino-Tibetan I think?”

Eyes flashed around the room, before settling on Tim.

“Seriously?” Tim groaned, “None of you knew that?”

Jason's eyes flashed to Damien, “Since when do you speak Romanian?”

He scowled, the tips of his ears burning, “It was going to be a surprise for Grayson, I was hoping to be fluent by his birthday…”

Marinette broke in before any of the brothers could make a comment, “Tim, Damien only practiced Romanian when he knew everyone was out of the house. Nor should you know about the Guardian Language.”

“Guardian Language?” He whispered, head too fuzzy for him to process more than that.

She winced a little, “When the role of Guardian was handed over to me, the language of the Guardians was basically downloaded into my head. It allows me to read the Guardian Grimoire and perform the spells within it to heal kwamis, fixing broken miraculous or create potions to allow them different abilities they don’t usually possess. Usually, there’s a lot of training to be able to deal with the new knowledge being shoved into their heads but my gaining of the guardianship was more than a little unorthodox so I had to deal with migraines for about six months after. I had to decode the secrets for myself even with knowing the language.”

“I don’t even know what the Guardian is,” Tim whispered as the truth set it, “I really shouldn’t know this stuff about you guys…”

“Another aspect of your power, no doubt,” Alfred cut in, “Hardly the worst thing in the world for a detective to have intuition-based knowledge of the people he’s looking up, hmm?”

Tim laughed, “Thanks, Alfred.”

The butler merely nodded, “However, I am fairly certain Master Tim hasn’t been truthful about how much sleep he’s gotten this week and a miraculous drain is dangerous even when well-rested, I suggest suspending this discussion until a proper hour?”

Damien gave him an innocuous look, “ You tried to lie to Pennyworth? Are you completely braindead.”

“Panicking over my secret being out means lots of comfort coffee,” He groaned back as he attempted to bury himself in Dick’s side.

“Go to sleep Replacement,” Jason huffed, as Dick pulled the other man to his feet. Zombie Tim's duty was something they all had plenty of experience in. It wasn’t long before he was stripped of his costume and sweatpants and an oversized tee pulled on over his bike shorts.

Tim barely registered the lights being turned off as he was bundled into bed, half asleep already.

When Tim arose the next morning he was surprised to see it was only 8 am, seven hours after when he remembered his brother’s getting him to bed. Typically, after the kind of crash, he felt last night he needed a solid thirteen hours of sleep and two cups of coffee to feel this alive again. His answer came from the tiny horse resting on the nightstand.

“Kaalki? What are you doing here?”

“Kwami healing,” She offered in an attempt to be nonchalant as she floated up in front of him, “ Tikki is best at it but every Kwami, barring Plagg, can offer some form of rejuvenation to those who need it. My way of healing is to replenish the energy that has been lost in a timely manner. It was the least I could do after causing you so much distress last night.”

Tim frowned and offered a flat hand for her to land on, “Don’t do that, there’s no blame on you or Marinette or anyone else. Accidents happen, and it’s not like there’s an instruction book on miraculous and metas.”

She fidgeted, “I believe you are correct but I still felt bad for causing such harm to befall you.”

Tim just shook his head, “Either way, thank you. I feel amazing right now.”

She smiled, “Perhaps if you hurry you can join your family for breakfast, I heard they were setting out to leave soon.”

He quickly pulled on his clothes and did his morning routine in the ensuite before entering the main room where his family froze in place as they were pulling on coats and shoes.

“What the fuck are you doing up?” Jason hissed, ready to force him back into bed.

“Kwami magic has its perks,” Tim defended, hands raised in surrender as Kaalki floated next to him, “I feel more awake then I have in years.”

Alfred grinned, “Ah yes, I remember how Duusu would help us relax after battles. Well come along then,

Marinette squinted at him judgingly, trying to figure out how he was allowed out by his family before Kaalki darted from his jacket over to Max’s. Instead, she just huffs and begins leading the entire group of heroes towards her parents’ bakery, Damien quickly falling in step to her left, glaring at Adrian who had fallen into step on her right.

“SO, replacement,” Jason drawled, dropping an arm around the short brother’s shoulders, “I didn’t get to ask last night cause you looked more zombie then me, but if I’m not a cat, what am I?”

“I don’t even know where to start with miraculous,” Tim huffed, pushing the older man away, “Where would I even start with which miraculous to give to you?”

“Well, how about we give you a starting point,” Adrian asked, turning to walk backwards so he could look at them with a twinkling smile, “Miraculous are broken into two categories, indirect and direct. Direct miraculous powers affect the target of the power directly like the Bee’s venom freezing someone, while the Indirect affect the world around the target, like the Horse’s teleportation. The Black Cat and Ladybug fall outside of the groupings as they’re both direct and indirect. Indirect users can’t use Direct miraculous effectively and can even have adverse effects of transforming too long and vice versa. So does Jason feel like a direct or indirect holder.”

“Indirect,” Tim started, finding the words just started flowing as he stared at the 11 swirling about over his brother’s head, “Jason’s cocky and more stubborn than the Blue Boyscout if you get him going, but he’s also loyal to a fault and filled with so much determination I’m not sure whether to be scared or impressed. No matter how angry he is at someone, or how much he thinks they deserve the consequences of their actions he will be there to protect them by any means necessary. He may talk tough and act stupid but he’s unbelievably wise with instincts unparalleled by normal humans when it comes to trust and how to get out of sticky situations. He can and will kill, but only if it’s the only option left to make it out of a situation alive.”

Jason scowled and pulled on the end of his jacket sleeve as he looked away, “Geez, rip me open why don’t you?”

“Hey, you asked,”

Marinette stared at him with a cryptic eye, “No, he’s right I can see it. I think I know what miraculous to give you.”

Tim’s attention fell away from the conversation as Jason tried to pry the newly found information from the young Guardian. Because that was the least of his worries.

Not when his eyes landed on vibrant blue hair, strikingly familiar, attached to a man sitting on the wall around the Seine, strumming his guitar absentmindedly.

“Found you,” Tim said, causing the man in front of him to smile up at him.

“That was quick,” He laughed, the thick gothic steel-colored 13 made his blue eyes take on a silver hue.

“It’s easy to spot such a high number when most don’t reach past six,” He shrugged.

“You and I aren’t very different, you know?” Steely grey 13 offered, looking back to his guitar.

“I think the masks gave that away,” Tim mussed, “I’m Tim.”

“Luka, Luka Couffaine,” Steely Grey 13, Viperion, Luka offered easily, “And I meant past the masks.”

“How do you mean then, Luka?”

The younger man looked up at him and waved a hand at the chair across from him, “How about you take a seat, Uccellino, and we can compare notes on what it’s like to be meta.”

____________________________________________

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