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abiiors · 1 year

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Small Comforts

Hello and welcome aboard the self-indulgence train

cw: blood, reader (and the writer) being a bit pathetic

The second your alarm rings in the morning you know something’s wrong.

The wetness between your legs feels sticky and uncomfortable, already running down your thighs. The wheels in your head begin to turn, doing mental calculations hoping against hope that this is not what you think it is. But then the first stab of pain hits and you know you’re doomed. You know once you peel back the duvet, what you will see will be carnage.

And oh god, Ross’s pristine white bedsheets…

You close your eyes tightly as a flush of shame and mortification creeps up your neck. This is the third time you’ve stayed over at his place, the third time you’ve woken up in his bed right next to him. It’s supposed to be romantic and butterfly-inducing, yet here you are, frantically searching for a plan of action.

He turns around, still half-asleep and puts his arm around you, about to pull you close. And you feel yourself flinch away abruptly.

‘Good morning?’ Ross cracks an eye open, still sleepy and clearly confused. On any other day, you would have swooned at how beautiful his morning voice is, deep and scratchy from disuse, how cute he looks with his eyes all soft and sleepy. But the panic in your chest compounds.

What if he’s really squeamish about blood? What if he’s easily disgusted by it? What if he’s mad about the bedsheets?

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, ‘it completely slipped my mind, I'm so sorry. I—’

‘Hold on,’ he interrupts, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide open, ‘baby, I have no idea what’s going on.’

Because of course, you gave him no context before launching into your apologies. So you scrunch your eyes tightly and wince as another cramp hits. This doesn’t help matters, not one bit but there’s no time to scramble as he goes the push the duvet off both of you.

‘No, no, no, wait—’ but it’s already too late.

Ross’s eyebrows fly up into his hairline in surprise and it’s almost comical until his face softens in realisation. ‘Oh, love…’ he sighs and smiles sweetly, ‘come on, let's get you cleaned up.’

So this is not the reaction you were expecting. You thought there would be mild disgust, maybe even some annoyance that he would try to quickly cover up, not…concern.

‘You’re not mad?’ you ask tentatively, still fully prepared for him to say something snide or even roll his eyes but all he does is tilt his head slightly.

‘Why would I be mad?’

‘Well,’ you point vaguely at the general area, still unable to directly look at the damage, ‘...this.’

He laughs a bit, then gathers his hair up in a bun. ‘It’s just some blood, baby. I do own a washing machine,’ he tries to joke.

‘I think I got some on your t-shirt too,’ you bite your lip to stop it from wobbling. Pain, embarrassment and hormones is clearly not a fun combination. Your eyes well up slightly, which adds to the humiliation because oh god why is your body betraying you like this today?

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ he moves quickly to pull you into his chest, ‘it’s okay, it’s alright.’ His voice is hushed and soothing, his words quick as he tries to calm you down.

‘Alright how about this,’ Ross speaks gently, ‘how about you get in the shower and I’ll clean this up, okay? And then we can do whatever you want.’

The fact that he’s being so fucking sweet about it chokes you up even more. You nod into his chest, gathering yourself up a bit. ‘Okay, yes.’

‘Check under the sink, okay? I bought some pads and tampons in case you ever needed them,’ he admits shyly, ‘looks like I was right.’

You hug him tighter as you feel your heart melt in your chest. How is this man real? He stays like that for a few moments, giving you as much time as you need, rubbing your back.

‘Come here,’ you mumble and pull his mouth to yours. He sighs happily into the kiss, caressing your cheek with his calloused thumb. The warmth radiating off of him soothes the pain in your stomach, still the cramps are now hitting you full force. You whimper slightly just as a particularly bad one hits and he draws back immediately.

‘Are you in pain?’

‘A little,’ you confess, ‘I think the shower would help.’

And the shower does help. The warm water and being surrounded by the smell of mint and lavender makes the pain dissipate a little. Still, you’re in dire need of a heating pad and some painkillers. By the time you walk back into his room, he’s changed the bedsheets and laid out a fresh, soft t-shirt for you. But Ross is nowhere to be seen. Even as you get changed and get back into bed once again.

You curl up on the bed, desperately willing the pain and nausea away. Ross is somewhere in the house, you can hear him moving but all you need at the moment is to cling to him like a koala and let him baby you. For now, you hug his pillow tightly and groan into it.

‘Oh, no,’ he coos in sympathy as soon as he opens the door and although just his presence is enough to calm you down, it’s the things in his hands that really bring a smile to your face.

He starts setting them down one by one; ginger tea because somehow he guessed you might be nauseous, a heating pad that looks simply perfect, a few books and DVDs and lastly, multiple bars of chocolate.

‘So you just have chocolate stashed around the house?’ you tease weakly and he raises an eyebrow.

‘Of course, I do, love. I’m not a heathen!’

His tone is so matter-of-fact that you can’t stop the sharp, surprised laugh that tumbles out of you. ‘I should start staying over more often then.’

He laughs and gets in bed next to you. ‘So this is what gets you to stay over more? Not me?’ he makes an exaggerated pouty face and begins placing small kisses on your face until you tug him towards you and give him a proper kiss. It’s a slow, sweet kiss. There’s no urgency to it, no sense of desperate need yet it’s intense in its own right. A kiss full of pure indulgence. His hand comes to rest on your stomach, fingers gently kneading and massaging. Even in the middle of an almost makeout, his first instinct is to provide comfort.

‘Come on,’ he says eventually, pulls away with much effort, ‘I don’t want the tea to get cold. And I brought us some books if you feel like reading together, or some movies if that’s what you would rather do.’ Then his hands move to his pockets and he produces a small silver rectangle, ‘and painkillers.’

‘You are so perfect!’ you sigh, on the verge of tears once again, because how did you get lucky enough to deserve this man?

Ross smiles bashfully, turns around to grab the cup of tea but you suspect it’s also to hide the small, adorable blush creeping up on his face.

‘Come on, now,’ he holds the mug in front of you, ‘flirt with me later. Right now, let’s focus on you.’

#ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #♡: ross blurbs #minors dni

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disasterofastory · 1 year

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I know you're taking a break right now, you do you <3 when you get the chance can you write a Bucky Barnes x little reader story about them play fighting/tickles?

Trouble Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: a hint of dd/lg

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I hope you will enjoy it. :)

The sunlight spills over the horizon, covering the garden in an orange hue. It's still early in the morning. The streets are quiet and calm, except for a few dogs barking in the distance. Their ruckus echoes in the air. You recognize one of them. He is a sweetheart with a voice of a beast. You always meet him when you and Bucky walk to the nearby coffee shop before breakfast.

Your gaze swipes over the fresh, green grass with a swing and a smaller pool in the back. The tall tree at the corner casts a shadow over them. Small, white petals fall all over the place as the branches rock back and forth. A warm breeze rushes through your open window, caressing your face and pushing your hair back from your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you enjoy the soft touch for a second before your attention narrows on Bucky, standing at the fence.

The man is tall and broad. He is still in his pajamas. The gray sweatpants hug his thighs and ass snugly, and the white shirt stretches on his upper body. He leans on the wooden fence with one arm, and you can see every curve of his muscles as he laughs while talking with your neighbor, Steve. The blonde man smiles, too, glancing back at his house for a second before turning back to his friend.

Your gaze moves back to Bucky as you bite onto our lower lip and adjust your new weapon in your hold. The thing is heavy with the sloshing water in it. Your finger slips onto the trigger as you straighten your arms and lift it to aim at your clueless boyfriend. Giddiness and excitement bubble in your chest as you adjust your hold on the plastic one more time.

A bit to the left.

Higher.

Your eyes meet with Steve's blue ones.

But it's too late.

Bucky barely has time to turn around when the water launches out of the gun, landing on the white shirt covering his chest. A shocked grunt leaves his throat, his lips fall open, and his eyes scan his surrounding to find his assassin.

Your eyes widen when he looks up at your window on the second floor and finds you with the water gun still in your hands, pointing at him. You don't hear his voice, but you know he says your name with a frown on his face.

There is no going back now.

You shoot at him again. His t-shirt is soaked, and you can see his nipples through the thin fabric. Steve laughs behind him, taking a few steps back away from the fence. "We will talk later, Steve," Bucky says, not taking his eyes away from you.

You are in trouble.

You shoot again. In the face. A few strands of his dark brown hair fall out of the bun at the back of his head, sticking to his skin.

Before you know it, Bucky is a few steps away from the glass door of the house, and your heart jumps up into your throat. You let the gun fall to the ground with a thud, and you are out of the room in a blink of an eye.

You didn't think this through when you woke up with the empty bed beside you. Bucky's place was cold, and when you got up to search for him, you found the gun sooner than the man. So, it's Bucky's fault, to be honest. You don't think it will make your situation better, though. The brunette is after you. You hear his steps in the house. "Y/N," his voice booms through the walls. "Come here!" Running out of your shared room, you slip into your room with pink walls, cute decors, and a bunch of toys all over the place. The door shuts close behind you too loudly. You jump at the sudden sound, and a grimace contorts your face with displeasure. "Y/N!" The knocks on the door rattle the wood in its place. "Open the door!" "No!" You shout. There is no reason for you to keep quiet. Bucky already knows you are there. "Little girl!" You can feel the change in his voice in an answer to yours. Your tone is higher, and his instincts kick in immediately. "Promise I won't get punished!" The only reply you get is a deep laugh. "Open the door, Y/N," he says instead. A stressed mewl leaves your mouth as you walk back and forth in front of the closed door. You know you get yourself in more trouble with each passing second. "But I really don't want to," you tell him. "Y/N," he says. "Don't get me to start counting to three." "Daddy," you cry out, stressed. "One." Shitshitshit "Two." A second passes. Your hand is on the doorknob. Unmoving. "Th-" "Nonono," you shout, opening the door hurriedly. "Not the three!"

He says nothing, and you don't even have time to do anything else. As soon as the door opens in front of him, you are over his shoulder. His grip on your legs is tight and steady. Blood rushes to your head. "Daddy!" You scream, grabbing the back of his shirt. "Put me down!" "No way, little girl," he scoffs, making his way down the stairs. "You were bad." "It was just a joke!" "In front of Steve?" "He laughed too!" You reason. "And I will laugh soon, too." "What?" You ask, looking up to see the glass door to the garden slide close as Bucky steps out of the house. Your eyes widen. Pushing yourself up just to look back over your shoulder, you see the pool getting closer and closer. "Nononono," you gasp, trying to get out of his hold, but you earn only smacks on your ass. His large palm burns even through the thin fabric of your pajamas. "Take a deep breath, baby," he warns you when he stops at the edge of the pool. His hands slip to your hips, grabbing you there to push you off of himself. A loud scream leaves your mouth as you curl your arms around his neck, even though your legs are already hanging above the water. "Y/N!"

The water is pleasant and refreshing since the nights are still warm. It plashes out onto the grass when both of you land in the pool. Your arms are still around his neck.

"Y/N?" You don't even look at him as you push your legs around his waist. Your whole body is pressed against his. "Yes?" "You are in so much trouble!"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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bts-hyperfixation · 2 years

Text

Outside of the Fox

OT7 x Reader - BTS (3017 words)

Chapter 1/30

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

The house is a small cottage, rather tiny really compared to the three-story Victorian homes surrounding it. Most people shrugged their shoulders and called it cute when they came to visit, quaint even. The inhabitants begged to differ. They would call it shabby, run-down, and desperately in need of bulldozing, but above all else, they would call it home

“Hyuuung, it’s too cold” Jungkook whined from where he is cuddled into the arm of their shabby leather sofa.

A draft blew in around the gaps in the window ledge, the panes in desperate need of double glazing and sealant. The young bunny’s tail twitched in discomfort as he attempted to burrow himself into the overstuffed cushions, a blanket pulled suffocatingly tight around his shoulders. His large brown eyes were the only thing that could be seen poking out from under the worn plaid fabric. The younger man glared at his partner across the room, trying to convince the older man to come to him.

The bear hybrid shook his head but saved his work and closed the browser before moving away from his corner desk to the other side of the small sofa. Jungkook wasted no time jumping across into the large man’s lap, dragging his blanket with him to cover the two of them. Namjoon reached out to pet the rabbit between his ears, earning a satisfied purr.

“You know we will never be able to afford to heat the hovel this winter if you won’t let me finish any of my work Bun…” Namjoon pointed out, but his arms encircled his youngest lover anyway.

Jungkook leant back long enough to get a good look at Namjoon. His stubble had grown much thicker as the cold weather drew closer. The dark circles under his eyes were also becoming more pronounced as he lost more and more sleep trying to keep their little family afloat. He rubbed the end of his cold nose against the older man’s, making them both laugh.He nestled back into the crook of Namjoon’s neck and made himself comfortable in the embrace.

That’s how they'd fallen asleep, and that’s how Yoongi found them when he walked through their front door. He dropped his bags and removed his shoes before he traipsed across the thread-bare carpet, curled into Joon’s side and pulled a little part of the blanket for himself.

Subconsciously, Namjoon’s arm reached over Yoongi’s shoulder and pulled him close, an innate instinct to protect the small jackal from the cold world. Before long Yoongi's breathing matched the others and he too fell asleep.

They remained like that together for the majority of the afternoon, drifting in and out of naps and hushed conversations, the perfect picture of domestic intimacy. Right until they'd been abruptly awoken by their fourth and final packmate screeching as he opened the door.

“Goooooodd Evening family,” Jimin called, sweeping dramatically through the front door and into the living room.

Groggily, the others unfolded themselves from each other to look at the man before them. Jungkook hissed, annoyed as Namjoon released him in his attempt to turn and see Jimin. Large arms encircled him again, squeezing him too tightly for just a moment, calming him instantly.

“You’re awfully chipper, Chim.” Yoongi said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jungkook reached out to pull Jimin into his lap, earning a soft groan from the bear beneath him who hadn’t been expecting the sudden weight change. Still, he'd accepted the fourth man happily, nuzzling into his neck. Namjoon blew a raspberry onto the red panda's exposed skin, making him squirm. Jimin swatted at their largest packmate and launched back into his theatrical attitude,

“Wouldn’t you be chipper if you’d just met the love of your life?” The redhead sighed dramatically, falling back against Joon’s chest with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

Each of the men around him released varying growls of displeasure at the new announcement,

"Relax," Jimin holds his hands up in surrender. "I meant the fourth love of my life, potentially the love of our lives." He paused for effect, taking in the various expressions of bemusement around him.

None of the men seemed particularly thrilled at the idea. Yoongi glanced at Joon, already weary of how much the leader was going through just to keep their little family from going under. Namjoon's brows knitted together as his brain tried to calculate how he could make it work, willing to do anything for his family. Jungkook whined, Namjoon's fingers had gone still, no longer playing absently with his hair, far less concerned with the thought of another pack mate, if Jiminie loved them of course he'd love them.

The redhead allows each of them to digest his news, eyes flitting between each member, trying to measure how he should proceed. He knew it wouldn't go down well. Namjoon's editor had refused every amendment he'd tried to make, and he wouldn't see a penny until the preorders could be made. Yoongi hadn't had a hit in a while, everyone was going through a phase of self-production and he just wasn't able to flow creatively. Jungkook hadn't been able to work since they'd found him. He was getting better every day, and maybe he would be ready soon, but not yet. And Jimin knew his volunteer work wasn't helping in the slightest but he couldn't leave behind all those that had helped him when he needed it most.

"Look, I know it's not ideal... I really didn't expect it, I swear.... And I don't even know if she'd be interested in me, let alone a full pack. She is pretty and funny though, and she seems so nice, and I just... I don't know, I just want to know her." Jimin rushed to try and explain.

"She?" Yoongi fixed, eyes narrowing "I've never considered a female...." He shrugged and reached out to pat Jimin lovingly. "I suppose there is no harm in meeting her if you feel so strongly, love," He conceded immediately after meeting Jimin's eyes, never able to refuse him a thing.

Namjoon shook his head, fingers starting to scratch at Jungkook's ear again as he unfroze.

"There is definitely no harm in making a new friend at the very least, but we can't make any promises Chim,.."

The bear's free hand pinched at Jimin's cheek. "Where did you meet her anyway? I thought you were at the shelter today?"

"Well you see... that's the thing." The red panda replied sheepishly before launching into a high-energy reenactment of his day.

_________________________________

It started off as any other, he clocked into volunteer at the hybrid shelter, the same one he had stayed at when he had nowhere else to go. He grabbed a coffee and headed into the main room, playing with some of the cubs as their parents prepared for job interviews and university courses.

The centre catered for a wide variety of hybrids: some escaped abusive humans or illegal syndicates, some had been abandoned as kids or orphaned, and others had just wanted a change and moved into town without any plans of their own. Jimin was one of the latter. He'd grown up in the mountains with his mother and a couple of siblings but he'd never enjoyed the reclusive life that had allowed them, he longed for something with more people, and more excitement. So with no plan, and less money, he made his way into town performing odd jobs in exchange for meals and small fares to pay his way, eventually stumbling upon the shelter.

He'd met Namjoon there, long after the bear had already settled down with Yoongi. Namjoon had been researching shelters for an article and Jimin showed him around. Then after the article was published the older man found himself lingering around the shelter in the evenings just to catch a glimpse of the other's bright hair in the distance, right up until Yoongi marched past him and into the building one day demanding that Jimin move in with them so his lover would stop going out to pine over other men. Namjoon's face had gone as red as Jimin's hair that day, especially seeing as Yoongi had never met Jimin before that.

You'd walked in around noon, just as Jimin managed to get the youngest down for a nap. He'd placed the cub into a bassinet and rushed to meet you before any of the other volunteers could steal his chance. Jimin had nearly knocked down poor Wonho as he zoomed past to get to you first. He tried desperately to be charming as he took you through the protocols of the building, explaining the rules and regulations you would need to follow in order to stay with them at the shelter.

You nodded along graciously as he showed you to a cot with a lockable box where you could leave your things. He wanted to ask you about how you'd managed to find your way to the shelter. A hybrid as pretty as you was very rarely alone in a town like this. Still, even in his excitement, Jimin knew better than to pry, you would tell them in your own time if you wanted to.

He left you to settle in for a little while and tried to focus on a game of chess with one of the old timers that had just stopped by for some company, but he couldn't help wondering how you were getting on with unpacking. You hadn't arrived with much, a backpack and some electronics. He thought about maybe taking you shopping but there was very limited funding in the budget at the moment. The elder hybrid checked him just as you walked into the rec room.

It's like he could sense the exact moment you walked into the room. His gaze met yours instantly and he smiled, what he hoped was an easy, confident, maybe even reassuring smile, but you didn't look convinced. His chess partner had laughed at him, and shooed him away as soon as he figured out where the boy's true attention lay.

Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against. Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against.

You'd seemed a little unsure of yourself, wanting to introduce yourself but obviously overwhelmed. The same way Jimin had felt when he first arrived. The shelter was a large facility, filled with all manner of people from different walks of life, predators and prey alike. He watched you try to introduce yourself to a few people and quickly retreat, shaking your head and muttering to yourself each time. There was a rule in place that if you needed help you should ask for it, otherwise the volunteers would let you settle in on your own terms... but Jimin really couldn't help himself.

He allowed you to try twice more, but you were picking the wrong people. He cringed as you were brushed off by the reclusive and nervous prey and ignored by some of the more brash predators. He couldn't allow the truly defeated look to stay on your face. He glanced around the room trying to find a friendly face to introduce you to or maybe even send your way so he wasn't directly involved, but today didn't seem like it was going in your favour. The room was mostly filled with newer residents that were yet to find their own feet, probably lovely people, but of no use to him at this moment.

He crossed the room to you and interrupted your next attempt before it even had a chance to fail. At least it seemed you weren't disheartened easily.

"Can I take you for lunch? Show you the area?" He asked brightly.

"What makes you think I don't know the area?" You responded defensively.

"Sorry I didn't mean to assume, just most people here are from out of town..."

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, not quite expecting the icy tone in your voice. Maybe that's the real reason you were struggling to make friends. He starts to rethink his plan when you soften.

"I grew up here... I've just had some changes lately that have left me... displaced" Your answer was careful, not letting on to your past, not yet.

"Well then, where do you like to go for lunch? Maybe we could go there and you could show me around? I haven't explored as much as I'd like to have done in the last few years"

He offers you his arm but you must not have noticed. Instead, you walk ahead of him expecting him to follow along obediently.

You leave the shelter and turn left, heading for a ramen bar about a half mile away, a choice Jimin is thankful for given how cheap the options were. It takes a little while for the conversation to flow. Jimin found it terribly awkward to get any conversation out of you, even light small talk seemed difficult for you. Not that you weren't making an obvious effort, more like you didn't know how to reciprocate appropriately when asking questions, and you clearly weren't ready to share about yourself yet.

Jimin was never one to shy away from a challenge though. He stopped trying to lead you into questions, instead focusing on his own life. Revelling in each laugh that slipped past your lips as he relayed the antics of his packmates, not missing the wistful look in your eyes. He tried not to dwell on the moments that made you shy away.

The walk back to the shelter was spent in an almost comfortable silence. The threat of another question was always on the tip of Jimin's tongue as he tried not to overwhelm you more than he already had. As the shelter came into view your pace slowed, dragging your feet against the pavement as if you didn't want to return. Jimin almost asked you why, but you beat him to it.

"It's strange... such a busy place shouldn't feel so lonely should it?" You asked, glancing sideways at him.

"I don't think you'll stay lonely," Jimin responds optimistically.

"I'm not sure I've ever not been lonely…." You muse more to yourself than to him.

It's the first real bit of information you've given him, outside of your name and he takes a moment to digest it, not really sure how to answer that. One thing Jimin had never felt was true loneliness. He liked being alone sometimes, but there had always been someone there when he needed them.

"I hope I can help you feel a little less alone." He stops looking at you properly to try to convey the sincerity of his words.

You just nod wordlessly and kick at a pebble on the ground. He reaches out to move some hair away from your face, hand lingering a little longer than it maybe should've done. You just looked so sweet, a defeated look in your eyes similar to the one Jungkook had had when they met. A look he desperately wanted to make go away. Briefly, you loiter in the touch before your expression becomes stoic and you continue with the walk back to the shelter.

"Thank you for lunch." You say and then head back into the rooms at the back of the building.

Jimin watches until you are through the door, his heart aching as your figure disappears. He has always found himself getting a little too invested in people too quickly, he couldn't help it, and it seemed you'd be no different. He spent the rest of his shift thinking of things he could do to cheer you up. Every time the door opened he looked up trying to catch a glimpse of you again before he had to leave for the day.

Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, the clock finally struck 5 and Jimin had to make it home for dinner.

__________________________

"Right... So what point of that day makes you think she is the love of your life exactly?" Yoongi raised his eyebrow in bemusement.

It wasn't exactly a whirlwind romantic story like they'd each been expecting. If anything it sounded like she had shown no interest in Jimin in the slightest.

"I'm sure what Yoongi means, is that it seems like you've not really had the opportunity to get to know her yet Chim." Namjoon softens the delivery.

Jimin still pouts, a little deterred by their reaction to the first day of the rest of his life, they just didn't get it, they hadn't met you.

"I know I don't know her properly yet, but I will. There's something about her. It feels like I did when I first met Kookie." Jimin assures them. "You'll meet her and you'll get exactly what I mean!"

Jungkook frowns at that, his and Jimin's relationship is one of a kind and he wasn't going to take a comment like that lightly. He nips at Jimin's fingers when the older man reaches to pet his ears. Keen to defuse the sudden tension in air Yoongi unburies himself from the pile and makes an excuse about needing to make dinner. The jackal drags the young bunny up with him to help.

"If you feel so strongly Jimin, maybe you should spend some more time with her and see where it leads." Namjoon pulls Jimin closer and nuzzles into his neck leaving little kisses. "Just don't forget where home is in the process."

"I want you to meet her Hyung."

"And we will, but maybe not right away?"

"No, you need to meet her, soon. Come with me to work tomorrow, pretty please." Jimin's eyes are wide and hopeful, something he knows Namjoon would never say no to, and he doesn't.

So the next day each of them get up and ready to follow Jimin to work at the shelter.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: Jin, Hobi, and Tae will not be appearing in the first few chapters of this fic. The original packmates are Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook, in that order. Originally this fic was supposed to be a tiny OT4 drabble for kinktober so that's why...

Chapter 2 will be released next Sunday and so forth until the fic is finished!

Hope you enjoy it :)

#bts #bts hybrids #bts polyamory #bts fic #bts fanfic #eventual smut #slow burn ish #namjoon fic #yoongi fic #seokjin fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #kpop fic #kpop smut

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bechloesupercorp · 1 year

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“Oof-” Ava slammed straight into the grass, sending plumes of dust up in her wake. Her muscles ached in protest as she dragged herself off the ground. Nope, not as young as she used to be. Reya’s realm had felt like centuries. To her, it literally had been, slowly aging her as she fought God herself to go back. What didn’t make sense though was Michael. Maybe he’d just taken the term “growth spurt” a bit too literally and just ran headfirst into adulthood. Nevermind that. Ava shook herself off, a jumble of emotions climbing up her throat at the sight of Cat’s Cradle. She was almost home.

The sisters were nice, but wholly unfamiliar. No Cam, no Lilith, not even Mother. And definitely no Bea. A trill of joy ran up her spine – maybe Bea had listened, and actually went to live her life. A spike of fear wedged even deeper at the same time – what if Bea didn’t want her in her life anymore? What if she had gone and done all these amazing things while Ava was stuck in another realm. What if Bea had outgrown her, like plenty of roommates had before, being adopted out or leaving for school and bigger things than Ava and witty banter.

She still had to try. Beatrice had left almost nothing. No phone number, no email, just a P.O. box in familiar writing, paper aged with the tendrils of time. Even then, Ava could see that the strokes were sure, certain, like the Bea she’s always known. But they were lighter too, the ends of her letters lifting up just a bit, like even she didn’t know exactly what was coming next.

So Ava thanked the sisters and rushed on out.

She didn’t move as fast as she used to anymore, even with the halo thrumming in her back. But she trudged along, feet drawing her closer and closer to her final destination. The sunrise broke over the horizon as she plowed up the mountains. Of course, Bea would go back to the one place they’d shared. Not Ava-the-Halo-Bearer and Sister Beatrice, but simply Ava and Bea.

The sun glowed against her cheeks and she felt like she was nineteen-just-turned-twenty again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she realised that this could all be gone. Bea’s, but not hers. Who wouldn’t love Beatrice? She probably had a whole new life, new family, new love, just conveniently in the same place they’d learned to love each other. She planted herself on a park bench, just across from the pool she’d spent almost every free second she’d had at, and the doubt wormed into her chest, shredding at her heart til she could barely breathe.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A young voice drifted in in German, accompanied by someone settling on the bench next to her.

It took her a second to respond, “I’m fine, thanks!” The language felt odd on her tongue. Thirty years had passed, but her mouth still moved, falling into a routine that was natural, but a bit misshapen, like clearing the cobwebs of an old hangout.

The young man had looked straight through her, with a funky little mustache and mischievous eyes. Ava wasn’t quite sure why, but in seconds she was pouring out her life’s story to this random stranger. She could almost hear the music in the background, like she had done hundreds of times to Hans before.

“It’s been years, and I don’t even know if she’d wait for this long. It feels selfish to want it but–” The boy stopped, glancing as another figure settled near the pool, “Sorry, my father sends me each morning to watch–” Ava followed his line of sight and everything faded. Bea. Streaks of grey laid where the blond used to be. Hair still up in a bun, a few strands hanging loose and framing her face perfectly. Ava’s hand itched to tuck it back behind her ear. To trace the soft smile lines at the edge of her eyes. Good. All Ava had wanted was for Bea to be happy.

She couldn’t help but launch herself at Bea, Halo giving her a little boost. Bea’s head shot up at the movement, cycling from alarm to immediate recognition as Ava’s feet pounded against the grass. Bea shot to her feet, arms reaching forward, crashing together in a tangle of limbs.

“Ava?” Bea’s voice cracked, a slight tinge of disbelief, as she clutched at Ava’s spine, drawing them together as close as she could.

“Bea,” she whispered, gripping at anything she could. She buried her nose in the crook of Bea’s neck – she smelled exactly the same. A flood of relief washed down her muscles as Bea pressed her lips against the side of her head, tears dripping against Ava’s face and mixing with her own. It took a few seconds of stunned relief, multitudes being said without any sound. “You came home,” Bea sniffled, voice thick with emotion.

Ava drew back, hand gently tilting Bea’s chin, eyes searching for the truth she already knew. “I’m home.”

#i was just thinking of ava looking at bea with grey hair and going “fuck im so lucky”#neither of them ever even thought they'd live long enough to ever get old #nonetheless together #and sure #it might take them a (long) while to find each other again #they will #over and over again #anyways #someone pls drag me to bed bc i need to wake up in 3 hours #warrior nun #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #boink scribbles #also the marks of age are beautiful!!#and no one ever wants to acknowledge or points them out #it makes me sad #bc they tell so many amazing stories in the loudest most understated ways #those smile lines arent there bc you smiled once!#you did it over and over again #and those joys were so important that they literally etched their way onto your face #an ever-present reminder of the happiness that you've held #and will carry for the rest of your days #welp #thats enough for tonight #:p

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askstevella · 7 months

Text

—This Day Aria / 💍💒👰‍♀️🤵

The man huffed and puffed punching a wall after wall so hard some completely collapsed, grunting loudly then gasped seeing the bitch who fucked up his best friend wedding. His so called bride! He tackled her onto the ground, causing both of to go tumbling and hitting a wall.

“Bucky stop!”

His fist was curled hovering over her as his chest began to tighten sending daggers her way. His face looked straight at her brown eyes, scared face, bruised body and knotted hair. He thought it was a trick and yelled, “Why should I?”

She gulps tiredly, “Because I know you..your mother was named Winifred but everyone called her Winnie, you’re a night owl and your favorite music is 40s Jazz, the classic kind.”

“True again. Anyone could know that, Steve must’ve told you about that.”

“You have a secret crush on Sam. You won’t admit it but you care about him dearly, you only ever told me that information.”

That caused the man who shake his head and uncurl his fist sighing as he repeatedly apologized for what he done. Stella smiled softly and tiredly rubbed her face explaining what happened, how she ended up here in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~💍~~~💍~~~

The bride to be grinned staring at the mirror in her long blushing white gown, tied up curls already pulled back into a high positioned bun and makeup done just right. She turned around and hummed walking around the room and then turned over her shoulder.

“This day is going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was small.” She said in a singing voice smirking as she walked around grabbing the face of the mannequin.

“Everybody will gather 'round. Say I look lovely in my gown.” She continued and yelled, “What they don't know is that I have fooled them all!”

~~💍~~~

The two were racing looking for a way out, Bucky helping Stella stand up in support despite them being surrounded by rock and dust from the caves. He gave her a soft smile, repeatedly apologizing and wondering how he is gonna explain to his best friend he tackled his bride to the ground.

He shrugged muttering, “Ah he’ll be fine.”

“This day was going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was small.” She hummed looking at him with tears in her eyes, “ But instead of having cake. With all my friends to celebrate.”

 He sighed keeping the soft smile as he’s hearing her sing the words, “My wedding bells, they may not ring for me at all..”

~~~~💍✨~~~

“I could care less about the dress. I won't partake in any cake! Vows, well I'll be lying when I say.” She sing smirking with pride, pushing the female mannequin out her way, staring straight up at the one of the groom, “That through any kind of weather. I'll want us to be together.”

 Her smirk only grew as she cupped the face of the mannequin that was shaped like a groom as she continued, “The truth is I don't care for him at all! No, I do not love the groom. In my heart there is no room! But I still want him to be all mine!”

~~💍🎵~~~

Bucky and Stella raced for their lives, using their strength and endurance to make a big impact into the walls of the cave.”

“We must escape before it's too late. Find a way to save the day! Hope, I'll be lying if I say..” Stella sings running and climbing up the rocks, following Bucky in between the narrow halls.

 She glanced at him, “I don't fear that I may lose him. To one who wants to use him.” She grabbed his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her secure position as they jumped and landed on steady ground as she hummed, “Not care for, love and cherish him each day!” 

Bucky smirked finding an old abandoned cart down the mines into the river that will allow them to probably. The two of them pushed as Stella smiled at her friend and promptly sang, “For I oh so love the groom. All my thoughts he does consume.”  

He returned the smiled helping her into the cart, launching himself inside as the pair rolled down the tracks into the river. As they did, Bucky swiftly turned around and sang, “Oh, Steve! We’ll be there very soon!”

~~💍✨🎵~~

The wedding marches were held high and mighty. The crowd gathered around dressed in plenty of glamour outfits, bridesmaids were wearing their best all designed by Liane and Amelia. The Avengers, The Young Avengers, Fantastic 4, X-Men and many others surrounded the place in glorious colors.

Steve was standing there smiling having recently seen nursing a headache with Nat and Sam beside him. A few faces looked indifferent while others were more than pleased with the outcome of the event.

The doors opened as the bride sung proudly, “Finally, the moment has arrived! For me to be one lucky bride!”

She dressed trailing behind her in glory, her headdress perfectly matched and the whole thing was all set in motion. With help from Leo and Cassie, she stood above the steps looking at the groom who’s eyes were more blue than before, with a hint of green in the middle being mind controlled to look like a mild headache. His blonde hair was swept back and his tux was fitted to match the theme of the wedding.

~~💍🎵✨~~

They were almost there as Stella looked at the broken clock with tears filling her eyes. She gasped as she sing, “Oh, the wedding we won't make! He'll end up marrying a fake!” 

Bucky sing the continued line rubbing her shoulder and huff, “Steve will be...” 

~~🎵💍✨~~~

 “Mine, all mine.” Sang the bride, her eyes flashed a deep green for a second before returning back to normal brown.

——————

Soo tell me what do you think? 💒 hehe I was listening to the song and decided why not.

Did you guess who the other Stella is? 💍😏

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

#mlp #this day aria #favorite songs #song lyrics #stevella #ask the super spouses #askstevella #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #stella #mcu x oc #anne hathaway #liane felton #sam wilson #bucky fanfic #sambucky #the avengers #fantastic four #x men

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 5 months

Text

The Holy Crusaders

The sole fan in the room wheezed and squealed as it twirled, stirring the sluggish air into lazy motion. It did nothing to dissipate the heat, only shift it around.

Nadia stood at attention nervously, sweat dripping down her face. Her lustrous dark hair hung in limp strands. The recruiter leaned close, until she could smell the whiskey on his breath. "This is your bed. You will place your stuff here, then you will report at the foyer. Understand?" He pointed to a bunk bed. Its metal frame was rusting, and the mattress had a suspicious brown stain on it.

Nadia nodded dumbly. It had taken all of five minutes for her to realise this was a terrible idea. The recruiter gave her a glare, then left.

Standing alone in the musty, dilapidated barracks, Nadia cried. Her eyes were wide open, and her mouth made no sound, but the tears streamed down her face. She stayed like that for a moment, then wiped her face and left. She had no possessions, nothing except her sword and armour. Everything had been left behind.

There was nothing left at home for her, she reminded herself. Her family, if she even had a family left back there, would never take her back in, not after the Incident. She had to start a new life, even if it was here.

She strode to the foyer, where a dozen armoured Crusaders stood waiting for her. They seemed to know each other, chattering blithely amongst themselves. She braced herself to approach them. It was her first day, after all, and she needed companions to show her around. "Good day?" Her voice cracked, and she winced as they turned to scrutinise her. She knew what they saw.

A young woman, dark of hair and blue of eyes. Tall, olive-skinned, and well muscled. Or perhaps they were eyeing the armour. She had made it herself, spending months practising on the breastplate alone. It was a labour of love, but love was no substitute for skill. It was, to be frank, a sham.

She studied them in turn, pushing aside her embarrassment. Most of them were at least two shades darker than her, with the exotic features of the Northern People. Refugees, she realised. It made sense. The necromancers did not discriminate, and the revenants killed all.

They stood there in hostile silence, until a heavily scarred woman stepped forward. She had fiery hair, tucked into a bun, and brilliant green eyes. "Let's see whatcha got, kid," she drawled, grinning lazily. A blond man passed her a longsword, and she took a combat stance, gesturing for Nadia to come at her.

Shocked, Nadia fumbled for her broadsword, falling into position. She gave the woman a nod. Was this truly how they judged new recruits? It was a far cry from the garrisons posted near her village, who were, by and large, old, kindly and indisposed to attacking young women at random.

The woman charged at her. Nadia blocked her clumsily, nearly getting the sword knocked out of her hands. Something was off. She was not normally so unbalanced. Perhaps it was merely surprise, or the shock of a new environment. But it felt more… Sinister.

Planting herself firmly into the ground, Nadia extended her senses towards her opponent. She could smell the adrenaline, the sweat and excitement, hear the thumping of their heartbeats and the soft, panting breaths. And the whirring of magic. Dark magic.

Nadia stepped backwards, out of range of whatever spell the woman had put on her. Instantly, the confusion dissipated. Her head was clear of the influence, whatever it was.

The woman tried to get close, but Nadia dodged her, making sure to keep out of the spell's radius. She had to bide her time, then knock out the woman in a single blow. Anything else would leave her vulnerable to the spell.

The other crusaders crowded around her, forcing her closer to the mind mage. She had to act fast.

Nadia took a deep breath. Forming a mental block, she waited for the woman to try again. When no attack came, she launched herself forward, pouncing on the woman.

From there, it was a simple matter of physics. Nadia was larger, and her armour weighed more. By dint of sheer mass, she overpowered the woman, getting her into a chokehold. Breathing heavily, Nadia smiled. "I win," she said quietly, and looked up at the assembled audience.

They were wide-eyed with shock. The blond man shook his head. "Zich," he cursed. "How did you do that? I've not seen someone get the better of Ruth."

Nadia laughed, ignoring the sudden thrill of fear that ran through her. "Trade secrets," she said. With luck, none of them would work out how she did it. Magic was not tolerated in the Crusaders, not even when put to good use. Which raised the question: How was her opponent a mage, and clearly a user of forbidden magic besides?

Her little secret. Remembering it brought a bitter taste in her mouth. The secret that caused the Incident. She brushed off her unease, and stood up. "My name is Nadia Smith. What is yours?" She offered her hand to the woman, who took it.

"Ruth ka-Valranis. From the Valranis province in Losaras," the woman said, smiling. "You aren't half bad, kid. Let me get you a drink for your trouble. Besides, you look like you could use it."

Nadia nodded, sheathing her sword. "Certainly, I could," she allowed. "I am new here, and I do not know the area." It was an opportunity to unravel the woman's secret, and find a way to protect her own.

"Ah! So you're another refugee?" The blonde man exclaimed. "Forgive my manners. The name's Josiah, but everyone calls me Josh. Ruth here came from the same village as me. We were the only survivors of the Revenant invasion," he added. "So… You're alone?"

Nadia shrugged, and said, "I ran away from home, snuck the last train out of town before the Necromancer struck. Not sure if anyone else managed to get out on time." It was a half-lie. She had run away from home. But she knew nobody else had escaped in time.

“Come, let us show you around,” Ruth said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I shall treat you to a drink." She leaned in closer, and Nadia caught a whiff of tobacco on her breath. "Listen, Nadia," she murmured. "You're like me, aren't ya?"

Nadia nodded infinitesimally, praying she was not in danger. "Our kind stick together, eh? Come talk to me tomorrow morning. The Crusaders turn a blind eye to discreet mages," Ruth whispered to her. "Old Ruthie here will make sure they do."

Nadia looked at her with shock. "Tha- Thank you," she said, sotto voce. "I am grateful for your mentorship."

Ruth gave her a final nod of encouragement, then slapped her back roughly. Turning to her friends, she grinned. "Well, let's give our new recruit a welcome, eh? Onwards to the Sheep's Beard!"

A ragged cheer set off in search of a drink, Nadia in tow.

#writeblr #my writing #writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #short story #fantasy #spilled ink #writing community #This is an old one that I never got around to finishing #But it's pretty complete as is

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because-she-goes · 2 years

Text

studio day

warnings: think only some swearing, other than that just some fluff! Enjoy!

A soft breeze rips through the studio. Birds chirp melodically from the woods outside of the secluded London home. Nora loved days like these, she never pictured it for herself being from New York and all, but here she is. Hair up in a messy bun, jean shorts allowing her legs to feel the warm air and smock over her chest. A brush sticks out from behind her ear as she tries to find her phone among the messy pile of paints, brushes, charcoals, pencils and markers. She finally finds it and puts on her home playlist. The one that makes her feel most relaxed and helps her whenever she is homesick. “Reelin’ In the Years” by Steely Dan blares over the professional grade overhead speakers Matty insisted on putting in every room, finally getting her to agree by using the “I’m a musician, I can’t stand shitty speakers. I know what’s good quality, honey” card. Nevertheless, she was thankful for the 360 sound system as she felt herself drift back to her beloved big apple. Swaying lightly with the music as she splattered some paint on a cavas to create the effect of rain drops against a window, she begins to lose herself.

“Have ya had enough of mine!!” she sings loudly, feeling comfortable in her skin. Now having the guitar surround her, she quite embarrassingly begins to air-guitar the end of the song.

The next song launches and it’s her new favorite. “One more tear to cry” by Mac Demarco. She makes a mental note to show it Matty later, he might like it. Now grabbing another brush, she continues her masterpiece. Today, she is going for a Willem De Koonig vibe. Her favorite artist in New York from the 60s. She remembers seeing a piece of his work in the Guggenheim one time and being absolutely floored by his use of color and abstract linework.

“Here come the lonely nights…” She sings the end of the chorus, now dancing to the guitar solos. God, she misses New York. “Back in Massachusetts, walking by the old high school. Its just the way I left it, except this time it’s not with you.” She sings sadly, mirroring DeMarco’s tone.

She especially loves Koonig’s works of women, making it a life goal of hers to hopefully have one in her possession that she could stare at and study all day. She could only hope to be as good as him one day. Maybe even one day having a gallery or exhibition of her own. She sighs, getting lost in the dream and in the music.

Song switches again. “Resonance” by Home plays over the speaker, she remembers being in college when this came out and everyone going insane over it at parties. The song was practically the soundtrack to her summer that year. Well, that and an album that was released the year prior. She never in her wildest dreams thought she would end up marrying the man who wrote the lyrics from that album. How was this all real? She laughs, now stepping back from her work and admiring it. Seeing where it has empty spots and deciding to leave them as is. Less is more, right?

Song switches once more. “Deceptacon” by Le Tigre. Her favorite hometown band. She fucking loves Kathleen Hanna and Bikini Kill. Their energy embodying female punk and Nora’s whole ethos for her work. That band basically picked her up as a kid and gave her the confidence and self-assurance to own her talent and be open about it. Why sugar coat or minimize her success? To be more palatable to men? Please! Now screaming, “Everything you think and everything you feel is alright, alright, alright, alright, alright!!” Fully dancing now, she is at her happiest. Not giving a shit about the painting now, she feels like a kid again. She feels 16 again. Before the drugs, before the alcohol, before fucking Derek, before everything. She doesn’t notice the gravel crunching in the driveway, doesn’t notice the main door opening, doesn’t even notice the stairs creaking as someone walks up them.

Song now on “Kilby Girl” by the Backseat Lovers. Matty would definitely love this song, or at-least the guitar of it. “I overheard that she was nineteen, with a fake ID and a nose ring. Those kind of girls tend to know things, better than I do. And I’m dying to figure out what she’s hiding she’s playing it cool, but she’s lying better than I do!!” Letting the outro sweep her away, she dances and dances until her feet hurt. Her skin screaming in joy. Every inch of her body feeling electric.

Matty watches his girl from the doorway, grin a mile wide. He rarely gets to see her like this, so free and so her. Normally, while listening to music she’s more bashful leaving the singing to the professional. He can’t believe how much he loves her in this moment. It is like his heart has come out of his body and manifested itself in her. He couldn’t ask for more in life than to see her happy. He couldn’t ask for more in life than to come home to her.

Her bun now practically undone from all the dancing, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, eyes sparkling in the natural light. He then notices the painting, recognizing it as being influenced by the Koenig- no Koonig guy she mentions from time to time when talking about art. He loves when she talks about her art, he has no idea about it so to hear it from her - someone so knowledgeable - is like listening to a textbook in his favorite person’s voice. It also helps him relax whenever she talks about it, since it has nothing to do with the band or label or Jamie or emails about their tour, he can just unplug from all of that and hear his honey speak about her passions. She said a couple times early on that her ex hated when she talked art, so Matty swore to himself that he would never do that to her. Never disrespect her like that, never put down what she got so much happiness from, never minimize her. He loved her, in every facet and aspect of her life. All of those pieces of her making her more beautiful and interesting to him, the more he learned about her the more he loved.

Matty only realizing now that the song switched and she is still dancing infront of him - how is she not tired out yet? “The Less I Know The Better” by Tame Impala plays above him. He refocusses his eyes to her. She still hasn’t noticed him but, is resuming her artwork while singing sweetly.

“Oh my love, can't you see yourself by my side, No surprise when you're on his shoulder like every night. Oh my love, can't you see that you're on my mind, don't suppose we could convince your lover to change his mind. So goodbye” She continues. Matty now deciding to reveal himself.

He swift grabs her and wraps his arms around her waist, swinging her around the room as he now sings “She said, It's not now or never wait ten years, we'll be together. I said, Better late than never just don't make me wait forever. Don't make me wait forever” He hears her giggle, the greatest sound in the world. Domestic bliss at it’s finest.

“Matty!! What are you doing home so early? How long have you been standing there ya creep?” She jokingly asks him between giggles.

“Been home since Kilby Girl, honey. Heard your sweet voice from the door, had to run up here to see what you were up to on the lovely afternoon.” He answered, looking down at her now. He sets her in front of him and grabs her face between his hands, kissing her cheeks over and over. Trying to express his joy and love as best as he can.

“L.E.S Artistes” by Santigold plays as they talk. His favorite song she’s showed him.

“Oh god, that means you saw me dancing like an idiot oh god!!” She shrieks, hiding her face in his shoulder. She feels his chest vibrate as he laughs at how cute she is. For the record, he loved her dancing no matter how bad at it she thought she was. He found it endearing and pure - untouched by any social pressure to tone it down or make it more ladylike. He loved that about her. Most girls he ran into molded themselves to fit him and what he found sexy or whatever, but not Nora. She is herself always, never muted or unsaturated. She is Nora in full living color, he could only hope to be the same one day through osmosis or something.

“I love your dancing, you know that Sweet. It’s adorable. And don’t even get me started on your singing voice…” he trails off thinking of how off pitch she sometimes is, but finding it cute instead of annoying like other people might.

“Well, thank you for that, Handsome. I love you. I’ll be down in a second to help make some lunch for us. What are ya feeling today?” She asks him curiously as she grabs a washcloth and cleans herself up a little from the wet paint brush swiping at her skin a few times while dancing.

“How about some burgers? Think its nice enough to grill today, love!” He answers excitedly. Finally being able to wear his “Kiss the Cook” apron he bought forever ago for the warm days.

“Sounds good, cutie! I’ll meet you down there.” She kisses him on his forehead and leaves to go wash up more in their bathroom. He runs to grab everything and spend the afternoon with his love.

Could life be any better? He doesn’t think so.

#drew’s writing :)#matty x nora #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #Spotify #an encounter

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novankenn · 9 months

Text

J/C - the Idols of Beacon

--==(Table of Contents) ==--

(Chapter Eleven - Agony is Life)

It had been two weeks since Joan and Carla’s training regimen had started. The first week had been pure hell, as their bodies slowly adapted to the brutal schedule. It was late into the second week that the pair, started to notice that things were not as hard as they used to be. They both shivered at the thought that once it became easy, the intensity would increase. The pair were intimidated… especially with the physical conditioning. Nora had decided to support Pyrrha, as apparently Nora, in Pyrrha’s own words, had “Adopted” them.

Watching Pyrrha and Nora doing their normal work out was scary. Joan and Carla were getting stronger, and their cardio was improving, but just watching the intensity of those two while doing light jogging on a treadmill made the pair of gender-swapped men sweat… with fear.

The voice and dance instruction was their preferred sessions. It was easy for them. Carla’s voice when she sang was angelic, while Joan’s speed and rhythm was infectious. Then of course as both had been trained in dance for multiple year… was child’s play.

There was one more day of training before the pair could have their cheat day. Joan was exiting her room when she saw Carla twisting and posing, while looking at her reflection in the full wall mirror. Both were in their workout clothes… or more specifically, the workout clothes they wore under their sweats.

“Stop checking out your ass, and get ready. Pyrrha will be her soon.” Joan commented as she finished pulling on her sweats.

“You’re just jealous, that I have the better ass.” Carla suddenly stopped, and her face went slack, as she just realized what she said.

“Says you.” Joan retorted. “I’m the full package… tits, ass, thighs.”

“Oh really?” Carla quickly forgot her shock and gave Joan a glare. When they had been… altered, Carla kept most of her height, only losing a couple inches. Joan on the other hand was a good seven inches shorter than she had originally been. “It’s just because you’re short. It makes everything look… bigger.”

“You trying to say my ass looks fat?” Joan yanks down her sweatpants and gym shorts to be just standing in her panties and sweatshirt. She arches her back and then slaps her panty clade cheeks. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoing slightly. “Just the hint of a jiggle. Pure toned Rank S cheeks, dude!”

“Oh no, you didn’t!”

“I already did!” Joan stuck her tongue out at Carla, and wiggled it in a slightly suggestive manner. “Suck it!”

“Ha… you wish!” Carla proceeds to yank her own shorts off, and angled her own body to show off her own assets. “This is a grade AA set of buns, Hun.”

Joan stepped out of the pile of clothes at her feet, stalked over. Carla gave her a puzzled look, as she wondered what her roommate was up to.

“EEP!” Carla screeched and jumped as Joan had just hauled off and slapped her ass as hard as she could. “Ow! Ow! Ow!’

“Nothing but jiggling fat!” Joan snapped, before twisting and slapping her own posterior for the second time that night. “Hard, toned and soft.”

“Oh, you…” Carla snarled as she rubbed her backside. “This means war.”

“Oh yeah? What are you…” Jaune was taken by how fast Carla could and did move. “EEP!”

“How’s the butt floss?” Carla sneered as she used both her hands to yank up on Joan’s panties, giving her a wedgie. Twisting the stretching fabric in one hand, Carla freed one of her hands and grabbed Joan’s ample rear. “Tight, but nothing to grab! A

Man likes to have his fingers sink in a little!”

Joan was dancing on her tip toe, trying to ease the pressure. Carla gave Joan’s butt a final squeeze before release her hold and allowing Joan to drop to her knees. Carla dusted her hands as she turned to head back to her discarded shorts.

“Ah! Let go!” Carla shrieked as Joan launched a counter-attack, grabbing hold of the back of Carla’s sports bra and yanking back, painfully compressing her chest.

“Don’t you EVER suggest… OW!” Joan let go of Carla, and grabbed her right tit. The pain was smarting, and caused her a dull ache in her chest. The reason, Carla, had landed a back elbow to Joan’s chest.

“What the hell is your problem?” Carla growled as she held her hands to her own sore chest.

“A guy is NEVER going to touch me.” Jaune snapped back as she gently rubbed the breast Carla had struck.

“Whatever. Like you have a chance with anybody.” Carla retorted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. A loser like you has NO chance of catching anyone’s attention.” Carla sneered, looking down at Joan, while crossing her arms over her ample chest. “Face it. You’re just eye candy… no one is ever going to take a blond bimbo like you seriously.”

“Bimbo?” Joan was more than a little angry now. “I could too find people who would take me seriously… who would be happy to be with me!”

“Really? Name two.”

“Pyrrha and Coco!” Joan snapped.

“Um… hello?” Pyrrha called out, her face bright red. Carla and Joan froze. They had never heard the door open due to their little argument. “I… ahem… seeing as you both have so much energy.”

“I… I…” Joan finally started to stammer, while wishing she could melt into the floor and vanish. “How much did you hear?”

“Most of it… anyway, as I was saying.” Pyrrha took a deep breath, “Seeing as you both have so much energy, I think it is time we increase the intensity of your work-out. How does a 3km run sound?”

“Perfect. Just perfect.” Carla groaned.

“Excellent!” Pyrrha slapped on a smile as she clapped her hands together. “Get dressed and let’s go. Nora is waiting at the gym for us.”

#rwby #jaune arc #cardin winchester #fem!jaune #fem!cardin #henshin #genderswap #Beacon PR Campaign #theme inspired by back street girls

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purplelupins · 2 years

Text

My Bunny

Albert Shaw (The Grabber) x reader

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: angst, depictions of death, manipulation, possessiveness (come on it’s Albert)

If you’re a minor DO NOT INTERACT

Note: This is a commissioned 1000 word part 2 to the little idea I had for Albert.

If you are interested in commissioning work from me, I will be posting about it soon, or you can message me.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been three days since you last saw the young man you once called your boyfriend. Now, with your knees tucked up under your chin and eyes wide and searching, you felt dazed.

The police didn’t shown you pictures, that had been saved for his family; instead, you received the explicit explanation of how he had died.

You remembered the frustration you had felt when he left you mid shift with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be there for you after work. Pure shame and horror was set into your bones now as you ignored phone calls and knocks on your door from friends.

You were fucked by your boss, then nineteen hours later a stray baseball was launched from the new automatic launcher and smashed your late boyfriend’s head in. He had died alone.

When a soft knock came from your door, you barely even looked to the sound. It wasn’t until it continued three more times that you glanced over.

“Y/n? Sweetie? Can you let me in?”

Albert.

Your stomach churned as guilt rose up inside you.

It had been agreed between you two that night when you did what you did that you were going to end things with your boyfriend the following evening when he got home from practice…but it seemed fate would put things differently.

“I want to be alone, Albert.” You called back- throat rough from not speaking for a day.

Your eyes glazed over, and the world around you disappeared; you didn’t even hear the key in the lock or his footsteps as he entered. Hell you didn’t even dwell on how he had a spare key when you had lost yours months ago. The obvious two and two were not making four in your mind.

You flinched when his arm wrapped around your shoulders, but you didn’t ask any questions as his scent enveloped you. Albert had come by three or four times a day, for the past two days. While the attentiveness was beyond what you could ask for, you felt a lack of air; you wanted to be alone, or so you thought.

But he was truly relentless, and always had something to say when you told him your want for solitude.

That wasn’t the worst part, however. The worst was that something about having him near you after being a comfort for so long was calming. He would whisper how it wasn’t your fault and that he would take care of everything; he even cooked for you…well, he brought take out. But it was something. He made you feel reassured, even though you knew you should be sorrowful.

“How’s my girl?” He cooed to you, holding you to his side and kissing your hair.

You sucked in a shuttered breath.

“…I don’t know anymore…” you croaked, “I don’t…I don’t even know what I’m doing…I don’t have anything to show for my life- if I died tomorrow nothing would happen-“

The older man tsked you and shook his head, “That’s not true, bun…I’d miss you. You’re my girl, remember?” He murmured, aiming to be comforting. Ultimately, however, his words only made your guts flip uncomfortably.

Your heart was pounding unbearably; you knew you couldn’t continue as you both were, but he had been so kind to you, even before…before he fucked you senseless.

“…Albert?” You shoved those thoughts away that made your mind weak.

He snapped his gaze back to your sweet, wide eyes as you looked up at him; so lost and vulnerable.

God he wanted you.

“Yeah, bunny?” He asked, brushing some hair from your face; eyes sharp.

It’s now or never y/n.

“I…I don’t know if I can do this.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“Do what?” He asked patiently, even though he was indeed losing exactly that.

“…Us. It just feels wrong. I don’t know…I feel like I need to grieve alone and…respect him at least in death…” you choked on the last word.

But regardless of your words, you buried your face in Albert’s chest, and cried. And it was a good thing you did because the older man’s face was devoid of emotion, and would have terrified you.

Inside his head was a pandemonium; while Albert was fairly sure of himself, he did doubt himself too. His age, and looks…especially with you, he wondered if you truly liked him or if you just felt bad for him. That thought alone made his jaw tight and blood scorching.

She’s mine. I’m the one who fucking looks after her, I worked for her. Mine.

Albert sucked in a breath as he focused on that mantra. “You don’t want me around?” He asked- his best ‘kicked puppy’ tone in play.

You sighed and pulled away from his embrace, but he kept his hand on your thigh firmly; you weren’t going anywhere.

“You’ve been beyond good to me…but-“

“But?” He cut you off. His fists were tightening, and his grip on your thigh was almost painful.

“But…I…” you huffed, squirming, “I just think I need to be alone…maybe get out of Denver?” You said quietly.

Four seconds.

That was all it took.

Albert had you pinned beneath him, and your shocked expression only made him grin, “You’re telling me out want to leave? Hm?” He rasped. His breath fanned across your face as you stared up at him; his hair tickled your cheeks.

You lost your words.

Albert smirked to himself at how easy you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, “Haven’t I helped make the pain go away, bunny?” He whispered, trailing a hand down to your thighs.

You tried to push him off, attempting to keep your resolve.

“Albert I’m serious-“

“Do I look like I’m laughing at you?” He mocked you, tracing the elastic of your panties. Albert watched all that stubbornness in your face melt away as he touched you everywhere but where he knew you wanted it, even if you didn’t say it. “If you left, daddy would miss you bunny…you don’t want me to miss you too much, right? And you’d miss me too, right?” He purred, his hips rutting against your thigh absentmindedly.

You hated yourself, but you couldn’t even think anymore. Your state of numbness was now overtaken by the feeling of your older boss’s hands on you, and the harsh rub of his pants on your skin as his cock throbbed.

“Come on, little bunny…tell me you’d miss me too much. Tell me you’ll stay.” He rasped, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties, “Pretty please?”

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

He had you.

“I’d miss you…I’ll stay.”

#nora speaks #albert shaw #the grabber thirst #the grabber x reader #comission #Albert Shaw x Reader

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the-lonelybarricade · 2 years

Note

Num 12 for feysand please 😊

Sorry this took me so long to get to!! Enjoy some Feysand fluff <33

Every time I look at you, it’s like the first time - Feysand (718 words)

Rhys didn’t know what changed that morning. In reality, nothing did.

He and Feyre had woken up slowly, as they often do on the weekend. A tangle of limbs, warm skin pressed together, sharing breath, sharing heartbeats. They moved together, haloed in the morning light where it poured through the crack in their curtains.

And it wasn’t the sex that did it. It wasn’t Feyre’s lazy smile as she shrugged on one of his shirts and left to go make them each a coffee. It wasn’t the way he admired her ass while she walked away.

It was when he strolled through the kitchen door after having made the bed and cleared up the room. He found Feyre perched against his kitchen counter, coffee in hand with one cup set aside for him. She was staring at something on her phone and hadn’t noticed he’d come in.

It was something about the way her hair spilled into her face, regardless of the bun she’d spun atop her head. Rhys found himself immediately turning around, hurrying back to his bedroom. Maybe it was the routine, the intimacy of living together so seamlessly that he couldn’t remember the first time they'd woken up this way. They had always fallen into a natural rhythm together, so effortless he’d hardly thought to question it. If this was the kind of thing he could see himself doing for the rest of his life.

When he came back to the kitchen, this time Feyre did hear him. And she turned, offering him a smile so beautiful he felt his soul leave his body. Rhys had always imagined roses, music, a crowd of people to witness his love, to immortalize it in video. He’d be wearing a suit.

Instead he dropped to his bare knee on the tile of his kitchen floor, wearing nothing but his boxers. Feyre’s eyes had gone wide, fixed on the velvet box in his hand.

Rhys cleared his throat. “I know it’s not exactly romantic, proposing to you on my kitchen floor. You deserved a grand gesture, and I had always intended on giving you one, but I…” he looked up, into those stunning blue-gray eyes that were now shimmering with tears. “I saw you just now and I couldn’t breathe. That’s what it felt like the very first moment I saw you, and that’s how it’s felt every moment after. And I couldn’t bear another second without you knowing that you are the woman I envision spending my life beside. If you wanted something more elegant, you can say no, and I’ll try again somewhere better. I just wanted you to know that one day this ring will be yours.”

With a shaky breath, Rhys opened the box to show her the sapphire ring nestled inside. It had belonged to his mother, and he knew somewhere she was scolding him for such an improvised proposal.

Feyre slowly sunk to her knees in front of him, tear tracks staining the soft, rosy slopes of her cheeks. She sniffed, recovering her composure enough to choke out, “Are you going to ask?”

His heart pounded a thunderous beat in his chest. Rhysand smiled, hoping Feyre could feel every ounce of his adoration as he asked, “Feyre Archeron, will you marry me?”

“I’m keeping my last name,” she said with another sniff, holding out her hand to him.

They could both see the way Rhysand’s hands shook as he pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto Feyre’s finger. It was a little loose, and they’d need to get it resized, but—

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, seconds before she launched her arms around him. Rhys fell backwards with a strangled laugh, the weight of Feyre a comfort above him as she peppered his face with kisses. He only realized he’d been crying too when she swiped her thumb beneath his eyes to catch the stray tears.

“And here I took you for a lavish man,” she teased. “I thought you'd fly me to Paris and propose beneath the Eifell tower, or something equally pretentious.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, feeling a stab of guilt for being so impulsive.

“No,” Feyre whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his lips. “No, this was perfect.”

#today has been A DAY #this fic is responsible for so much chaos #please enjoy it because it came at the sake of my sanity #feysand #feysand fanfic #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhys

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS

So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.

It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.

Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing. (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?” The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”

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