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writingmysanity · 2 years ago

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Sanctuary Part Five

A/N" this one is a tad longer than the others- oops. Unbeta'd, as usual. As they say in my family "Weird hill to die on, but at least you're dead." xD

TW: ummmm jealously? sibling relationships

Word count: 3556

< previous Master list next >

Take the day

The note plastered to the lab door is left ambiguous, though, eyeing his best friend’s signature, he is all too aware that he is the intended target. He can almost feel the weight of Jayce’s hand on his shoulder from months ago, mandatory days off.

He had not enforced them.

He had not needed to, Viktor realized.

His thoughts wander to you, striking him with an almost uncomfortable dull thud of his heart hitting his ribs by simple memories alone. The way you laugh, the way your smile falls on him, the way your eyes stay on him the moment you are aware of his presence and never seem to sway.

The attention is almost too much.

Almost.

Tapping the sign with his finger, he smiles before turning away with a nod. Fine, a day off it is. He wanted to check on you anyway. You had barely begun to pull yourself together yesterday afternoon before council business had pulled you away, much to his chagrin.

Before he even realized where he was walking, he was already at the steps of the old council building, staring up at the brilliance of the blooms that had struck him the first time he visited- the scent almost dizzying, even part way through the summer, now. The once almost neon green vines darkening with the season, new leaves branching out to soak up as much of the sun as it can, greedily trying to encompass as much of the area as possible, speckled blooms wiggling through the stem. Petals seem to bend to his touch, lifting at his caresses as he runs his fingertips over them in passing. He could hardly even see the cracks of the foundation anymore, large elephant ears lifting nearly to that of the railings above, the hurling of tiny bodies passing in a blur at his approach with a simple squeak.

Chuckling to himself, he glides up the rest of the stairs, finding himself in a much better state once he reaches the top than when he climbed them the first time. He isn't struggling to catch his breath anymore. Grinning at his own little milestone, he pauses to run his fingers over the carvings before pushing forward. The click of his cane echoes in the empty halls surrounding him, the murals seeming to whisper the sound back to him as he walks.

It is still early, he half expects you to be running around, but you are nowhere to be seen. Humming, he notes the oddity, but assures himself that if you aren't yet moving about, that he will simply go back to his room and come back at a more appropriate time, like lunch.

Reaching the other set of double doors, he looks out, sighing happily at the familiarity he already seems to have with the place, the trees and the leaves seeming more of a home to him than his own lifeless room on most days. Leaning out of the doors, resting most of his weight onto his cane, he scans the area, hoping to find some sort of sign that you are indeed awake and running around somewhere. The sun is shining down, filtering through the canopy above glowing like torches as butterflies linger around the bushes resting at the base of the trees. Closing his eyes, he listens- nothing.

Sighing, he nods to himself as he turns to leave- lunch time then.

Just as he is stepping away, a squeal ringing out across the court yard catches his attention. nearly leaping through the open doors to make sure that you are okay, his eyes falling to the shadow of a figure standing at the halfway point between the building he is in, and the greenhouse, and subsequently your figure as you all but hurl yourself into his arms, laughter ringing out in the mess of the trees.

His heart drops like lead as you are spun, watching as the smile gracing the man's lips grows as he places you down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Swallowing, he can't help the wince, nor the way his hands tremble, when you beam up at him, hands on his chest. He is taller than Viktor, he notices. But that isn't what catches his attention most- he is both able and healthy.

Light headed, he sways, memories spinning around around him like a childs ride, making him nauseous. Shadows of bodies passing over your figure, hiding you from his sight.

Laughter rings out around him as he sits on the edge of the pier, legs swaying in the breeze. One by one, children file past him, barely sparing him a glance.

“Did you have fun?” his mother asks, well meaning, but she knows better. He just shrugs.

“No one played with me.” in true motherly fashion, she clicks her tongue, looking down at him with all the love someone could possibly muster for another.

“They missed out,” she assures him. Shaking his head, he stays off the tears.

“I can not run,” he mutters dejectedly. “Why would any of them include a cripple?” bitterness drips from his words, making her sigh.

“What of that girl? She sat with you a few times.” sadly, he shakes his head again.

“She said that she couldn't anymore- her mother was afraid i am contagious.” this time she stops all together, fury burning behind her eyes.

“I will talk to her,” shaking his head quickly, he wills the tears away.

“No,” he rasps, sniffling. “It will only make it worse.”

Struggling for breath, he fumbles back, shoulders hitting the door with a soft thump, his cane the only thing lifting him to keep him upright, tears clouding his vision no matter how much he wills them away, shaking his head.

I should have known, he nearly snarls at himself. No one wants a poor cripple from the undercity. He thinks bitterly, anguish squeezing at his lungs, making it hard to breathe, head lulling to look at you both- laughing, chatting. The man seems enrapt in you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders lightly.

Leave, his brain screams at him, but he can’t will his body to listen, eyes transfixed on you and he- Nyal, you called him. Why does the name sound familiar? Shaking his head, he shakes away his thoughts. He will come back later- tomorrow, give you time with… him. You deserve it, he can agree. He seems to be a good fit- able to keep up with your way of life. Flexing his fingers around his cane, he pushes himself up with effort, wincing at the creak of the door behind him, the sound catching your attention.

Suspicion crosses Nyal’s face as he seems to place himself between the two of you on instinct. but you beam, your face lighting up once your eyes fall on him, his name falling from your lips with a happiness that he has always hoped was just for him. No, he chastises himself.

Caught before he is able to leave– shoulders turning to do so– you are already halfway across the arboretum, Nyal in tow- much to his chagrin. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself before lifting himself to his feet properly, schooling his expression. As you get closer he allows himself a smile. No matter in which way you care for him, you still light up when you see him. He can live with that. If nothing else.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you stop yourself from launching at him the same way you did Nyal, dropping his hand to find Viktor’s, hands wrapping around his arm excitedly, bright eyes melting in the sun, softening his expression further.

“Nym,” he hums, hand dropping to rest on your hip lightly to help stabilize you as you tilt backwards past him in your hurry, a childish grin over taking your features, giggling as you squeeze his arm in thanks.

“Viktor,” you bounce, one hand flourishing towards Nyal standing a few steps down and still nearly as tall as Viktor, eyeing him, lingering on his cane with a scoff. You glare at the man, nostrils flaring a bit before you turn back to viktor. “I want you to meet someone,” he nods, smiling down at you, natural in spite of how tight his chest is, and how it seems to squeeze tighter every moment your eyes fall on him with that all too familiar happiness dancing there. Just for him.

“Of course,” shuffling the hand he holds his cane with, he extends his hand offering it to him, which he takes immediately. A single shake, and as Viktor is about to drop his hand, he winces, words dying on his lips as nyal forcefully squeezes his hand, eyes narrowing up at him. Huffing in agitation, you whack Nyal’s arm, glaring at him with a venom he's never seen before.

“You stop that,” you nearly growl. “I wont have you being a jerk.” lifting his hands in defense, he huffs back at you, muttering under his breath, earning another whack from you. Whining a bit, he scrunches his nose up at you, almost pouting as you turn back to Viktor, looking apologetic.

“I am so sorry,” you sigh, hand lifting to keep him from refuting the apology. “Little brother’s,” you offer, looking equally as exasperated and amused, realization washing over Viktor as shame settles in his chest, yet he smiles, a lightness in his tone that he didn't recognize.

“A pain,” he offers, making you laugh and Nyal pouts.

“I am right here, you know,” he huffs, shaking his head to hide his own smile. You just nod up at Viktor, grinning.

“Always,” you hum, pushing against your brother’s shoulder, earning a chuckle from both men. “And late.” you state decidedly, eyeing him playfully. Nyal throws his hands up in the air, groaning.

“A day late,” he exclaims, scrunching his nose at you. You huff, but soften. He had meant to be here yesterday, to mourn with you, to sit with you. Melting into Viktor’s side, you rest your head against his shoulder lightly, smiling when his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt lightly, careful not to touch your skin.

“We are going to go for an early lunch, would you like to come with us?” you offer gently, frowning a bit when he shakes his head at first.

“You should spend time with your brother,” he states, eyes flicking to nyal, a neutral look crossing his features as he watches you both. “You don't see him that often, I'll be here after.” he assures you. He watches you chew on the offer, sighing, your own words startled to a stop when nyal’s hand claps down on Viktor’s shoulder, shaking you both.

“Come now,” he insists with a smile. “I owe you.” His tone is serious, nodding down at you both, softening when he meets your eyes. “You've been here for Nymmie” you groan at the nickname making them both laugh a bit. “Especially yesterday.” Considering it, Viktor nods slowly, smiling when you squeeze his arm happily.

“Okay,” he hums, leaning against you for a moment, nudging your shoulder with his, his smile matching yours. “If you are sure.”

—-

Laughter echoes around your office, the three of you pouring over your old chess board, eyeing it. Nyal and Viktor are on a team, trying their best to communicate quietly enough that you don't catch wind of their plans, both seeming frustrated that they do not yet know each other well enough to share silent cues.

And yet, you are two moves ahead of them, taking yet another one of their pieces, snickering.

“Come now boys,” you muse, head falling back in laughter. “I thought for sure that you both would have me beat.” you tease. Nyal huffs.

“Boasting is unbecoming of a young lady,” he gripes, glaring down at the pieces. Your laughter only seems to increase.

“I was not raised a lady,” you snark back, raising an eyebrow. Viktor can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, shaking his head. Another move, another piece lost to you.

“Check,” you sing, making them both grumble.

“I thought you were a genius!” Nyal acusess, narrowing his eyes at Viktor. Lifting his hands in defense, he glares down at the board, huffing.

“I am a scientist, I invent things to make people's lives better! Do I look like I know how to read minds?” he scoffs. “I am no psychologist.” playfully glaring back at Nyal, Viktor points at him. “I thought your father taught you both how to play.” sighing, Nyal’s shoulders slump a bit.

“It was boring, okay? I could never pay attention long enough to finish a game.”

Tapping against the board, you don't even bother trying to hide your shit eating grin, eyes sparkling in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Boys,” you sing, leaning forward to eye them both with unrestricted glee. “It's your move.” motioning helplessly to Viktor, Nyal leans back, eyeing the board.

“Win this for us, Mr. Scientist,” groaning, Viktor looks over the board again. You had cornered them- there was nowhere to move, their queen sorely left in the open. Sighing, he resigns himself to your brother’s, albeit playful, frustration, and your gloating- he moves. Laughing again, you steal their queen, throwing your arms up in victory.

“Three for three- pay up boys!” Nyal gaps at her.

“We aren't playing for money!” you just grin.

“We're playing for food,” you state, rolling your eyes. Viktor eyes you, mulling over his choices.

“I will… take you to your favorite cafe- I am afraid that cooking is another one of my weak points.” Nyal nods.

“Same.” tapping your chin, you consider them both, tilting your head slightly.

“I'll feed you,” you hum. “Today.” you nod, grinning at their relief.

“I can't believe you lost this for us,” Nyal sighs, gently shoving Viktor’s shoulder.

“I cant believe youre worse than I am,” VIktor sasses, raising an eyebrow at him while you bounce to the back of the room to collect the food, setting plates before you all. Gapping at Viktor, pride shining in his eyes, he tries his best to pout up at you.

“He's mean to me,” snorting, you shake your head.

“You deserve it.” winking at Viktor, you take your seat next to him since you've had to add a chair, smiling up at him. He smiles back, shoulders relaxed. When he looks up, Nyal is watching you both, smiling slightly before shaking his head before bending to take a bite. The rest of lunch is quiet, sharing a few comments here and there- Nyal purposely pulling some embarrassing stories out to tell him, grinning at your blush. Attempting to kick Nyal under the table, you accidentally kick Viktor instead. Hissing a bit for a moment, you realize too late, eyes rounding out, comically large.

“Oh! I am so sorry, Vik,” blinking down at you, he nods, his smile soft.

“I assume that was meant for Nyal then,” he muses, chuckling. You nod.

“Pay back,” you grumble. He laughs.

“Ah, well perhaps you will aim better next time.”

There are a few moments of quiet while you collect the plates, moving back to stand by Viktor, shifting on your feet.

“Do you have much more time?” you ask gently, recognizing that he has spent much longer with you than he normally would. Taking a moment to comprehend, he just nods, softening.

“Yes,” he assures you. “I have no other obligations today.” frowning, you tilt your head, your hair falling in your face a bit.

“Jayce?” he just shakes his head, ignoring the way your brother leans against the door, watching.

“I took the day off- eh, I was not needed.” you snort,

“You’re always needed, Viktor.” raising an eyebrow at him, you sit, eyeing him. “Progress never sleeps.” you quote, making him laugh.

“Ah yes, so they say,” he nods, leaning back. “But I have decided to use one of my mandatory days off.” you glare away at your brother's look, the wiggle of his eyebrows and his all too excited knowing smile.

“So… you’re-”

“Free?” he states with a smile. “Yes. I am yours, Miss Nym.” he can't help the warmth that fills his chest when you beam up at him, eyes trained only on him. Like he is your sunlight.

“Stay?” you ask meekly, eyes flicking between him and your brother. Your brother just shrugs a bit, coughing to hide his smile muttering something under his breath that only you caught, eyes narrowing at him. Viktor just nods, thumb brushing over your wrist lightly.

“Of course.”

—-

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, you all three joked– Nyal in the back ground mimicking the way you react to Viktor, exaggerating your motions, pretending to faint when his back is turned from you both– expertly wiggling his eyebrows over Viktor’s shoulder when he is too preoccupied with you to notice.

He gets kicked twice- and this time… you don't miss.

You spend most of the time giving your brother the tour– the green house, the arboretum, and the council building, hand flicking towards the stairs.

“The rooms are up there, so whenever you are done for the night.” he just nods, but Viktor's eyes follow your motion up the stairs, eyebrows furrowed.

“You stay in this building?” you just nod.

“Where did you think I stayed?” he shrugged.

“I did not think about it, to be honest. I figured you were afforded an apartment– like most of the other staff here at the academy.” grinning slightly, you nod.

“I have been. Mel gave me complete access to this whole building, all to myself. There are several accommodations in the building and I get blissful peace.`` Both men laugh a bit, nodding. It made sense.

“Alright,” Nyal calls a bit louder than he meant, all of you wincing at how his voice carried- echoing back at you all rather harshly. “I think i will retire for the night” you nod, stepping up to hug him tightly.

“If you need anything,” you promise, he nods, muttering against your hair.

“I need you to seal the deal already,” he snorts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before starting for the stairs but not before sending a very clear look from you to Viktor with a motion of the hand hurry up.

Halfway up the stairs, he shares the same look with Viktor, eyes flitting between him and you, who is already headed back outside. Raising an eyebrow, he nods to his sister, nudging his head towards you, raising an eyebrow. Go. as you turn around with a smile, tilting your head, a silent invitation to follow.

Swallowing, Viktor nods, trailing after you, stealing another glance up the stairs towards your brother. He was already gone.

When he makes it to the doors, you are already seated on your bench, looking out over the sky, smiling softly, eyes nearly closed. Quietly, he shuffles over, sliding in next to you.

“What is on your mind?” blinking up at him, you shuffle closer, leaning your head against his shoulder, watching as the last of the sun starts to drop below the horizon.

“You were jealous,” you state, grinning. It isnt an accusation, it is a fact. One you had seen written allover his face when you spotted him before he had been able to steel his emotions. Looking up at him, he watches you, gapping a bit- unable to find the words to dispute your claim when his brain stalls with the way the sunset makes your eyes glitter like the night sky.

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” he huffs finally, looking away to keep from staring. Snorting, you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“How long?” you hum, nudging your shoulder against his. Looking down at you, he adjusts his posture, your head now resting against his upper arm instead of his shoulder as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“I am sure I don't know what you are referring to.” laughing, you grip his arm gently, squeezing.

“How long were you standing there?” you ask, tilting your head up, catching his eyes again. “Before I noticed you.” he pauses, shifting in his seat, sighing.

“Long enough.” he states quietly, looking down at his lap.

“Long enough for what?” you ask pointedly, trying to coax it out of him, freezing as his fingers start to gently trail over your wrist wrapped around his arm, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

“To get jealous,” he says finally, after a few moments of silence, wincing preemptively- expecting more laughter, or even some teasing jesting. He almost jumps when you nuzzle into his arm, fingers moving to meet his. They barely brush but it is enough to make his heart flutter.

“You have no need to be,” you promise against his arm, your voice muffled by his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, slumping into your body, pressing his forehead to the crown of your head, releasing the breath slowly, nodding slightly.

“Okay,” his voice is soft, filled with emotions- a shiver running through you. You nod gently, eyes closing slowly in bliss.

“Okay,” you breathe, basking in the last of the afternoon sun together.

____

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

643 notes · View notes

s0ulm8s · 4 years ago

Text

boys like you (2.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life

✿ genre : hybrid au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, wolf!namjoon, great dane!hoseok, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, abuse, angst, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff (let me know if i’ve missed anything)

✿ word count : 3.0K

✿ taglist : @gee-nee @narcissism-iskey @anongirl007

✿ series masterlist! | 3.0

you had spent all night examining each pack member’s file, each hybrid had vastly different personalities, likes, dislikes, etc. - and you had to admit it was a lot to take in. you had also taken the time to search online and purchase all that you thought would be necessary in helping assimilate the hybrids into your home, new beds, dressers, food, utensils, etc. even scheduling reconstruction of your estate, updating the model and calculating up floor plans to change the biggest common room in the home in order to accommodate all seven of the hybrids, incase they wished to stay together in a bedroom where they could all fit comfortably. perhaps you were way too ahead of yourself, but that inheritance money needed to go somewhere.

it was now 3 hours before your scheduled time to meet the hybrids, and possibly sign their adoption papers. that is, if all parties want to be adopted by you. you scanned their files again.

birthdate: december 4, 1992

sign: sagittarius

age: 28 years

type: white-tailed dear

role: care giver, protector

(tends to be subordinate, dominant traits)

as the oldest, kim seokjin falls into role of protector and caregiver naturally within the dynamics of his pack - trusting that there is no imminent danger. but outside of pack dynamics, he can fall into prey instincts quite quickly. this explains his dependance on wolf hybrid, kim namjoon. he shows more care- giving nature, resorting to protection in that case of the younger members more than the older predators.

seokjin enjoys spring, cooking, and familiarity. though he is quite outspoken and quick to defend, he is not the natural leader of the pack. he can be skeptical of humans, as in the wild, humans can be the deer populations top predator. he is respectful, intelligent, trustworthy, and resourceful. he is family orientated and selfless, as expected.

birthdate: march 9, 1993

sign: pisces

age: 27 years

type: black panther

role: protector

(predominantly dominant traits)

as the second in age, and an apex predator, min yoongi is a fierce protector. maybe even sometimes to a fault. he doesnt shy away from threats, especially those directed toward his pack.

he is quiet, and quite reserved. he enjoys the piano, writing, and sleep. his harsh exterior is hard to break through as those within his pack are the only ones who have managed. he is quick to action. he, along with the instinctual pattern of his panther tendencies, sports an “act first, ask later” attitude. his counterpart, great dane hybrid, jung hoseok, helps balance this.

birthdate: february 18, 1994

sign: aquarius

age: 26 years

type: great dane

role: protector

(predominantly dominant traits)

jung hoseok is the level headed protector, along with that of his successor in age, kim namjoon. as a domestic predator, he still sometimes falls into that category of protectee, but not inherently. in terms of owner, this is where his loyalty lies. where his instincts decide protection is needed most, as his pack members know how to protect themselves.

his personality is very bright, and quite bubbly. he is easy to talk to and offers sensible advice. his is found to be a bit goofy, and tends to lift the packs spirits when needed. hobbies include primarily dancing, and writing. he enjoys deep thinking.

birthdate: september 12, 1994

sign: virgo

age: 26 years

type: black timber wolf

role: protector

(predominantly dominant traits)

kim namjoon is the packs natural leader. though he isn’t the oldest, he seems to be the one they look to for answers. in terms of owners, it seems he will display what’s best for his pack while keeping his own desires hidden. but much like his descendant, the domesticated hybrid, he will still put owner first when accepted as part of said pack. he is exceptionally intelligent and wise, violence isn’t his first instinct - but it is still a prominent trait.

though he is the leader, and can sport a hard and critical exterior, he has been observed to show a quite fun and loving side. as ancestor to the domesticated hybrid, he shows immense loyalty. sporting a bond for an owner that cannot be broken once trust is established. he can be very playful, he loves to read, and write music. he enjoys stimulating conversation.

birthdate: october 13, 1995

sign: libra

age: 25 years

type: calico cat

role: protectee

(both dominant and subordinate traits)

though a predator, he is domestic, and when his instincts don’t call for action - park jimin knows he is protected by his elder counterparts. with this knowledge, he falls into the role of protectee quite effortlessly. though, he does show protector qualities when it comes to their youngest, jeon jungkook.

he is feisty and argumentative, but exceptionally loving. as a domesticated hybrid, he can be quite lazy and enjoys lots of rest but displays many burst of energy that seem to stimulate the rest of the pack. he enjoys singing, and is extremely affectionate - unafraid to show his affection for those he trusts.

sign: capricorn

birthdate: december 30, 1995

age: 25 years

type: bengal tiger

role: inconclusive

(both dominant and subordinate traits)

as an apex predator, kim taehyung should fall into category of protector. over years of observation, the hybrid is willing protect but doesn’t display it prominently. as he is just as easily protected by his elders as that of counterpart, park jimin. and much like him, he will fall to defense of youngest, jeon jungkook, quickly. but his position remains inconclusive as he displays traits of both equally. the dynamic still works with the pack seamlessly.

he can seem quiet upon first meetings, but the hybrid is quite playful and excitable - especially with his agemate and younger counterpart. he likes to protect and be protected. he is an art connoisseur and seems to always be collecting new knowledge where he can find it.

sign: virgo

birthdate: september 1, 1997

age: 23 years

type: rabbit

role: protectee

(predominantly subordinate traits, does occasionally show dominant qualities)

youngest, jeon jungkook, falls into category of protectee quite easily. as prey, and categorically falling so low on the tree, it makes sense that his predator pack members would shield him. but he also shows fervent attachment to prey, kim seokjin.

the youngest can be rather shy when it comes to those who may or may not pose a threat, the ambiguity alone is enough to trigger is prey instincts. though, within his pack, those he trusts, he is extremely impulsive and affectionate. he also enjoys music, and singing, along with drawing and creating art. he is very lovable and fun.

* all pack members have experienced past neglect, abuse, and trauma.

each file was as meticulous as you could expect it to be, giving you the rundown of their diets, habits, personalities, etc. you heart stung at the last sentence and the realization that they had been observed for years, meaning they had been in the shelter for years.

though the idea was a bit overwhelming, you had to admit reading about them felt like a little glimpse into who they were - and you were suddenly very hopeful you’d be able to adopt them all.

though that didn’t come without nerves, you skimmed over each file, realizing then that even the youngest was a year older than you. you hoped your age wouldn’t pose a problem to seeing you in the light of owner, as someone they could look to for help or protection. you wiped away the thought, saving it for when it happened instead of creating a problem that didn’t exist yet.

looking up at the clock, you decided you should get ready. putting the files away into your bag neatly, you climbed up the stairs to the room you had made you own. wearing your hair down and applying a light layer of make up, you decided you should look somewhat presentable.

you didn’t know why you were so nervous suddenly, discarding outfit after outfit before realizing you were about to be late and finally deciding on a pair of loose jeans and a fitted sage green top. you hoped you looked as friendly as possible.

finally, you made it to the shelter, letting out a heavy breath and turning your car off - you tried to ease your nerves. you greeted yeosang at the front desk once again, along with dr. park as they directed you to the “interview deck.” there you found mingi, waiting for you with a stack of papers.

“y/n!” he called happily as he wrapped you in a firm embrace and you paid him a sweet smile. seven sets of ears perked up on the other side of the door, growing anxious as the seven boys paid each other glances. their skin buzzing wildly. “they’re all inside now. knowing you, i’m sure you did extensive research... i’m confident they’ll love you.” mingi reassured, as you stayed quiet. “whenever you’re ready.” he finally spoke, moving out of the way as you finally let out the breath you were holding.

you gripped the handle before thinking fuck it, and twisting it completely, stepping inside almost silently.

you can’t say you had expected the hybrids to look the way they did as you started at them wide-eyed, the moment seeming to move in slow motion as the tingling feeling you felt the day before returned, except it was incredibly more intense.

“hi -” you tried to speak before a large body came crashing into yours, almost knocking the wind of out you as you stumbled slightly. the tall boy wrapped his long arms over you shoulders, burying his face into your neck. you could feel him smiling against you skin.

“i’m so glad you came back for us.” the small voice rang out muffled against your hot skin. heartbeat thumping rapidly, and you know they could all hear it with their heightened senses. as you scanned the group, six set of eyes watching you intently, you noticed the only pair of ears missing were those of the bunny you met the day prior

“of course i came back.” you muttered softly, returning his embrace as he exhaled into you at the contact of your arms joining around his toned waist. you can’t say you figured the bunny would be so tall and broad, he clearly worked out to maintain his figure, perhaps to make up for being prey.

“jungkookie, let her breathe.” a deep voice echoed. the tone so deep and domineering you almost shook.

“right.” the younger boy laughed, pulling away with a deep blush that matched your own. “sorry.” he breathed out.

“that’s okay...” you whispered softly. “it’s nice to finally meet you properly, jungkook.” you finish, genuinely, giving him a happy smile and watching the tension fall out of his broad shoulders.

the owner of the deeper voice had now stood and was approaching confidently. gaze trained and focused on your much smaller frame, as you looked up at him towering about you, tall and strong.

his eyes raked your figure, petite and short, even shorter than jimin - and his instincts were screaming at him to protect you and usher you even further into the room, away from any possible danger. he ignored it, for now.

you observed his ashy black ears and tail, the traits matching his shaggy hair perfectly. “you must be, namjoon.” you concurred, as he tilted his head, just like a wolf would. his gaze made you squirm a bit.

“yes, that’s me.” he nodded, gesturing toward the chair sat directly in front of the couch that seven of them were sat on. “please.” he said firmly, as you nodded. finally, taking a seat and feeling a bit more at ease. “this is seokjin, our oldest” he spoke for the group, gesturing to the broad shouldered man on the far side of the couch, closest to the door. there was an empty spot next to him from where namjoon had just stood.

his skin was fair and spotless, and his clean cut dark hair was adorned with a pair of clean antlers. his plump lips formed in a small u-shaped smile as he bid you a polite nod that you returned.

“hoseok,” he introduced next. referring now to the honey-skinned great dane hybrid. he seemed to be bursting at the seems with energy but hid it well, despite his tail wagging quickly - grey/brown ears perking upward.

“hello!” he cheered happily, taking all of his energy and focussing it on not wrapping you in a tight embrace, much like jungkook had. he could smell you so vividly, they all could.

“hi!” you giggled a bit, his ears turning toward the noise. “it’s nice to meet you.” you both beam. you think maybe he was made by the sun itself, at how much warmth and happiness he radiates.

“yoongi.” he spoke next, just as the man next to hobi swatted the great dane’s wagging tail with a small snarl. he barely tilted his head back at you, seemingly uninterested in the whole encounter.

“jimin.” he said next, sending yoongi a death glare that the panther pointedly ignored. you smiled genuinely at the panther, before looking to jimin.

“ah, yes! we met yesterday as well.” you cheer softly as jimin cracked a proud smile at your acknowledgement, leaning forward to shake your free hand and place a quick kiss to it.

“i’m glad you’re here.” jimin spoke hushed, before letting your hand go and smirking at your blush, only nodding your head to him.

“and you’ve met jungkook,” he spoke next as the bunny waved at you again, one ear flopping down, long hair falling into his eyes. you waved back and he smiled brightly.

“and then finally, taehyung.” namjoon introduced last, as you face the last hybrid. his skin was tanned and soft, and his dark hair parted down the middle in soft waves. you could see his bengal features in his eyes. he paid you a respectful smile, reaching forward to shake your hand formally.

“it’s lovely to meet you.” he said, voice just as deep as namjoon’s, laced with a low purr. you gave another small smile, face tense.

“and you, taehyung.” you replied, as his soft hand let go of your own. namjoon let out a breath and sat down in his previous place as you met all of their gaze once more, only yoongi’s was trained on the floor. they looked expectant.

“i take it mingi has told you most of it, but my name’s y/n. i own an estate off the countryside, it’s quiet there. and, to be entirely honest with you, i never saw myself adopting a hybrid in general.. let alone seven but... i want to give you a proper home, and the freedom you deserve. if you’ll let me.” you spoke softly, but loud enough for each hybrid to hear. they studied your features, and the growing heat of their skin, staring quizzically.

“if you -“ you started speaking just as namjoon did. you chuckled lightly. “go ahead.” you gesture.

“would it be alright if we asked you some questions?” namjoon asked respectful, as you immediately nod your head in approval.

“of course. anything at all.” you encourage as you met seokjin’s trained gaze.

“not to be.. abrupt or rude, but, how old are you, y/n?” seokjin asked, voice melodic and pretty.

“oh, i-i’m 22... i know i’m younger than you all, but i can confidently say i can provide for you. i had to grow up pretty quickly.” you admit, and the boy take note of that last thought. namjoon wonder’s why but chooses not to pry. fore now.

“i trust you.” seokjin spoke, ceasing your explanation as the two of you held a piercing gaze until you nodded to him - silently thanking him.

“what do you do?” hoseok asked next, leaning forward a bit and smiling. they watch your expression beam a bit at the question.

“i’m an artist! i - i work from home so i’ll be able to devote as much time to each of you as possible, if that’s what you want, of course.” you tell him happily, reflecting on your work as he takes note of every expression you make.

“an artist? kookie likes to draw a lot, too!” jimin explained, wrapping an arm around jungkook’s shoulders and ruffling his hair as the boys laughed.

“i’d love to see your work sometime.” you admit sweetly as jungkook blushes. the rest of the boys ask you basic questions abbot your life, why you’re here, all except yoongi.

the conversation dwindles quite naturally before yoongi finally speaks up, “so why would a 22 year old girl want to adopt seven hybrids? what are your intentions?” yoongi’s voice is laced with venom, his question makes you sit straight as your gazes finally meet.

the two of you stare at one another, studying the other’s gaze, trying to read them. both parties becoming inwardly frustrated when they fail.

though hoseok gives yoongi’s thigh a squeeze in quiet warning, he also looks at you expectantly. along with the five other boys. you take in a deep breath.

“just like you, i have to gain your trust just as much as you have to gain mine. if you give me a chance, let me get to know you and in turn get to know me - i think i can give you what the seven of you need. a home... a safe haven... i want to be that for you, if you’ll let me. i’ve been blessed with the resources to do so. my heart aches at the thought of the seven of you being here for so long, and there is no string of words that i can say to even begin to ease the burden of what you’ve been through, but i want to try. i want to understand. and i want the seven of you... if you want me, too.” you answered honestly, voice lower as you start at the floor, rolling your hands together.

you finally look back up at yoongi whose dark gaze has now softened. previous potentials who had even considered meeting all seven of the hybrids would give up on them at yoongi’s harsh tone and hot attitude - using it as an excuse to decline their adoption. but you didn’t. you met his words with sincerity and kindness, and it’s not something any of them had experienced. and the fact that you hadn’t given up yet, spoke wonders to the seven of them.

they all shared a knowing glance, “okay... we want you, too.” namjoon finally spoke, as you broke into a happy smile.

✿ author’s note : thank you so much for all the love on the first part so far, I really wasn’t expecting it. i’m posting part one and two tonight as to get the story rolling and will hopefully have part three out tomorrow night! i can’t have a set schedule as my work and school schedules fluctuate but i’ll be as consistent as possible as i’m just as invested! thank you!

#hybrid au #hybrid bts #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 bts #poly au #poly bts #soulmate au #bts #bts imagines #bts smut #smut #bts drabble

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

Text

The Sacrifice Part 10: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: death isn't always the final stop.

wc: 1.2k

tw: none

masterlist

You can breathe here.

Your eyes wink open and you’re no longer on the mountain.

There’s an echo of slats falling into place and clicking neatly as a wooden bridge forms beneath you and spans across a starry sky, like the ones you used to lie under when you were on your own.

You look down at your hands and find that they’re translucent, just like the rest of your body.

“Y/n,” a voice calls out to you from somewhere far away, and you look around you, trying to find the source. You locate the voice on the other side of the bridge, where two figures float toward you slowly. “You grew into such a beautiful woman.”

“Mom. Dad.” The figures stop in front of you, smiling and reaching out to you. They’re outlined in a blue glow, but they look the same as when they left you, still youthful and brimming with pride.

“You did the right thing. You were brave until the end. Now, come. Join us.” You hesitate at their words, thinking about--

“Don’t think about that now,” your mother interrupts. “They will all make it without you. You did what you were destined to do.” You consider the possibility of joining your family and being in the underworld together. But what if...

You glance back to the other end of the bridge, the other side of this earth. It’s just an empty expanse, but it’s something other than the emptiness of the underworld. You turn away, the voices of your mother and father gaining volume the more you think about those you left behind.

But you’d finally found something to live for.

Would you accept the fate Toji dealt you or--

“You do have one other option.”

The voice comes from a blonde man who appears on the bridge, leaning on air and reading a book. When he looks up, his spectacles catch the light of the stars, obscuring his eyes from sight. “But you would never be able to see your family again.”

“Immortality,” you breathe, and the man shuts the book.

“Bright girl.”

“How did I--” The man sighs, removing his glasses.

“Toji’s rage reached beyond and interfered with the way of things. You have a choice, and you must pick wisely. There is no path back from either side.” You look back to your parents and think again. Would you forgive yourself if you never got to see them again? Would you regret choosing them over your future with Geto? “I must tell you this, though. You were with child when you departed from the mortal realm. As the god of transformation, I have the power to grant you life… and your child’s life as well.” With child? Your hand flies to your translucent stomach, and you inhale deeply. There’s someone else to think of now.

“What must I do?” The man swings his arm to the opposite side of the bridge, then looks at you.

“Keep walking.”

You nod, then begin your trek to the other side of the bridge. “I hope you’re happy with your choice,” is all the man says before disappearing behind you along with your parents.

The first few steps are silent, and nothing occurs. But five steps in, the bridge behind you begins to disappear and you feel yourself speeding toward a yellow light, loud sounds and smells rushing at you. It’s more than overwhelming, and part of you longs for the silence you had before.

The light engulfs you entirely, and sensations rush at you like never before. You can see all of time in a flash, memories rushing between your hands and body, and wrapping you in ribbons of gold. “All of time is accessible to you here,” you hear the man echo. “All of the world is yours now. You are afforded any time and all of time, and you are allowed to go as far back and or as far forward as you please. Where will you go?”

“Back home,” you whisper, and think of Suguru, Gojo, the girls, everyone you left behind in the world of the living. And when you feel your fingers, your toes, the dry clothes on your body, and hear the sounds of Suguru and Gojo speaking quickly, you rest in the feeling of being back in your body… your old body.

You rise from the bed and feel for the cut at your neck. But there’s nothing there. No one is in the room - your room - when you sit up. But the sounds of arguing and fury reach you from the outside of the room, and you hear Geto roar,

“Find him and bring him to me!”

“Your Holiness, it’s been three days. Toji has not appeared anywhere, and he’s not in his realm right now.”

“Find Nanami, then. He knows where everyone is.” You contemplate opening the door. You’ve been dead for three days? But it’s only been a few minutes… When you finally decide to open the door, you find Gojo pacing frantically, hands running through his messy hair. He’s mumbling to himself, and it takes a moment before he realizes someone is standing behind him.

“Gojo?” The man flinches at the sound of your voice, not turning around.

“You’re not actually here. You’re not real. She’s not real, Satoru. She’s gone. Just… just… it’s Toji. He’s playing a trick on your mind again.” Gojo slaps his hands to his ears, grunting as you try to pull him away from his delusion, from his fear.

“It’s me, Gojo, I’m really here, I--” Clymenestra appears, first to try and comfort Gojo, then backing up in terror at your visage.

“Y-y/n…” As you approach her, her hands fly up, stopping you in your tracks. “Come no closer, evil spirit. You must return to where Toji sent you from. Haunt us no longer.”

“Cly, it’s really me! I haven’t been haunting you, I swear. I was dead, but now I’m immortal and I--” Cly moves to push you away, but when she touches your hands, she snatches them back.

“Gojo,” Cly hisses and grabs his shoulders. “Snap out of it! Toji’s sending his worst. This one we can touch, so we need to get this thing away from Geto before he tears this temple apart.”

“Wait, Cly, but I--”

“The room.” Gojo murmurs and Cly grabs your arm, dragging you behind her and Gojo. You go down a dark hallway to where there’s no one around, and you look around, noticing the shredded tapestries, the doors that are torn apart, and the massive gaping hole in what you assume used to be your bedroom shared with Suguru. “Put her in the room.”

The door you never opened is standing in front of you, looming large in your fear. You try to yank away from Cly but she holds onto you with a death grip as she unlocks the room and then pulls you down the stairs.

“Geto!” you shout, fear latching onto your bones. “Geto, please come and help me, oh god-- Geto!” Clymentestra shoves you into the dank room without care and spits at your feet.

“You had the chance to leave, apparition. Now you will be confined to the darkness until your master calls you back to his side.” Before you can clamor up to your feet and catch up to Clymenestra, the door shuts and seals you in darkness yet again.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @wack0-genius @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious@missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sasahime @ggotgame @just4readingfics

#geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #jjk geto #getou x reader #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years ago

Text

The Dark Team (part 2)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>> Join the taglist in here

Spotify playlist of the whole series.

Next morning you walked into the kitchen to be surprised by the presence of that God, but looking much less like one would imagine a God would look like. He was sort of pathetic, in almost an adorable way. Had a childish look on his face, but seemed wiser than anyone on the compound. His tall silhouette hovering over the coffee machine, trying to serve himself a cup with his hands still cuffed, now tied on the front of his body. They probably changed it so he could sleep (Result of sentiment? So Thor wouldn’t trust him but he would still care? Sounds like a weird relationship). You walked over and helped him mindlessly, without saying anything, and served another two cups. With the steaming coffee burning the tips of your fingers, you finally sat by Bucky’s side on the long breakfast table, gave him his cup and joined his conversation.

“What do you mean?”, asked Peter, lowering his tone of voice.

“He’s just… a bad spine, you know? I don’t remember anything about the New York incident, and I’m sure I was around, somewhere”.

“Dude, you were all brainwashed”.

“Ah, right”.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked.

“Loki’s weird vibe. Why does he appear out of nowhere? Thor never said he had a brother, and he always talks about his family. Besides, he looks nothing like his brother”.

“You look nothing like my brother either, yet here we are. Maybe he’s adopted”, you pointed out to Peter. He wasn’t exactly your brother, but you two basically grew up together and made yourselves a family in the least conventional way possible. If anyone asked, he was your closest family. “But you mean Loki as in, you know, that handcuffed Nordic God over there?”.

“Yeah. That one. I’m surprised you didn’t hack into the web to know everything about him, or something like that”, Bucky mocked.

“Wow, I’m offended you thought I’d do something like that. Besides, you can’t have Asgardian information on a Midgardian web, I’d have to check Asgard’s internet and I’m pretty sure they don’t have one”.

“So you tried”.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?”.

“Of course you did”.

You sipped through your coffee and glanced over Loki. He was actively trying to avoid any contact with anyone on the compound. Peter made a good point. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be there, and Tony was not one to trust blindly in the team. If his history was that he tried to take over the planet, why would he help you all out now? Was he being threatened? Held against his own will, a God? That didn’t seem possible, not even by Tony Stark.

“Alright”, said Tony as he made his way through the kitchen to refill his mug. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night, wearing long eyebags and his hoodie backwards. “You three ready for the mission? You’re leaving this noon”.

“Oh, so you’re on the super secret and dangerous mission, after all?" asked Peter, slightly offended.

“Yeah”.

“Why can't I go, then?” he complained as Tony rolled his eyes.

“It’s too dangerous for you, kid”.

“But y/n’s going”.

“Yeah, but y/n can stab you without blinking, and you cry if you step on an ant”.

“Hey, don’t diminish my little brother’s superpowers”, you defended him carelessly, and then added “but Stark’s right, you stay”.

“I was kidding, though, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you, kid”, he patted him in the back “but this mission will imply a certain... Darkness, maybe, that can only be found in these guys. That’s why I’m calling it the Dark Team, not the Softies team”.

“What do you mean ‘darkness’? I thought you chose us for our combat abilities”.

“Well… Not very legal ways to obtain not very legal objects, you know, and a bit of gray morale, anti heroes this, villains that…” he said ambiguously, and you three rolled your eyes. You swore Loki, who was watching silently from the other side of the room, did it too. “You see? That’s the attitude. Good, you’re already getting it”.

“Do I need to remind you of my current deal with the law, Stark?” asked Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it”, he cut him shortly “you won’t even be there. That’s why we have an illusioner in the team”. Bucky and Peter glanced at you, as to say ‘illusioner; you see what we mean?’.

“What about me? What darkness do you think I can provide?”, you asked with innocence in your eyes. Everyone laughed at you, even Loki, who didn’t even know you.

“Wow, so you actually see me as that kind of an outsider, don’t you?”.

“Not an outsider, but you certainly are mean”.

“Define mean”.

“When I first met you you punched me in the stomach to steal my knives”.

“Well, you shouldn’t have had knives in the first place, you know how I am. And I didn't even steal them, I was being defensive”.

“I’d describe you more as a paranoid”, added Sam, entering the room. He wasn’t listening to what they were talking about, yet he agreed.

“Wow, you all seem to have a very formed opinion on me. I’m flattered”.

“Our formed opinions are that you’re a savage, don’t be so flattered”.

“Hey, I worked hard for that title, thank you very much”.

“That’s exactly why you’re on the team, though,” added Tony, who was equally paranoid as you (if not even more).

“Fine. Point made”.

“There’s two people better at body combat than you, but not better at planning. You’re here for your strategies, kid, as you always have. You’ll be making the plans and directing the mission”.

“Wait, are you telling me I’m in charge?”, you asked in awe.

“Are you telling us you’re letting them in charge of the two of us? What kind of a parent are you, Stark?” scoffed Bucky sarcastically.

“You can handle them”.

“Handle us?” inquired Loki, finally talking.

“Parent?”, you added.

“Quit the jokes, and get working. You’re leaving this afternoon”.

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki headcanon #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki fic #mcu #loki x avenger!reader

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ditttiii · 4 years ago

Text

Brothers Conflict || 03.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER THREE

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: Language (sfw)

Masterlist

"How about this?"

"Nah, it's too sideways," you reply from where you are standing near the doorway of your bedroom.

"Right or left?" Sunmi asks, as she grips the frame and distances her torso from the wall, trying to see for herself where she should shift the frame. From the looks of it, she's failing spectacularly at it.

Suppressing a snort, you answer ‘left’ and hum when she tilts the frame and you are finally satisfied with its position on the wall. Walking back in, you marvel at the sheer grandness of your room for the umpteenth time as you take in all the space around you. Roughly four times the size of your old bedroom, it was huge.

Floor to ceiling windows on the side opposite the bedroom door, before which was your queen-sized bed. A decent size, intricately designed bedside table beside it, with the floor underneath covered with a soft, plush rosy white carpet. A walk-in closet the size of your old bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, curtains heavy enough to suffocate and kill you if they were to ever fall upon your body; your new bedroom screams rich.

It would be a lie to say that you don't feel intimidated. Raised in a middle-class, humble neighbourhood, you hadn't in your wildest dreams ever imagined living in a room like this. But here you are, soaking in the reality of the moment; and realising that it feels like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Nearly four hours since you first started unpacking, and five since you had first met your new family, most of your room was organised. All boxes untaped and emptied as you and Sunmi worked hard to make the unnecessarily large, empty room less of a hotel room and more like the bedroom of a 19-year-old girl.

Sighing, you push the last book of your novel collection into the bookshelf. Made from some sort of whitewood, much like everything else, it was designed intricately and looming large over your small shadow.

"This is it."

Slouching, you fall onto your back, eyes straying to the ceiling above and the textures carved onto it, refusing to reply to Sunmi’s statement. Agreeing would mean that you'd have to let her go and you don't think you can, the isolation and abnormality of the situation already sinking in and scaring you.

"Mmn," you reply noncommittally instead.

A long sigh, and then your best friend is curling on the floor beside you, her hand snaking around yours, fingers intertwining, as she silently lets you know that she is here for you. Repressing the tears you can already feel trying to escape your eyes, you squeeze her hand back.

The clammy, ice-cold touch of your skin against hers goes unmentioned as you both lay there in silence.

"I'll call you every day," you whisper, your voice choked as your death grip around Sunmi's waist tightens, and she lets out a strangled moan before pushing you away.

"Woman, stop being so dramatic! You'll see me back in college every freaking day once summer ends and you know I'll come to see you whenever you want me to, the hour-long ride be damned," Sunmi chides. There’s no bite in her words, and her voice wobbles despite her trying to act tough, but you don't call her out on it and only nod.

"You better, you airhead, lord knows you'll probably sob your body dry without seeing me every day."

A giggle comes out of your best friend's tall, lean body, one you are entirely too envious of, and her eyes soften, your smile softening with it.

"Take care, will ya?"

"Always," you whisper back, and with one last kiss thrown over her shoulder, she leaves. Her figure grows smaller and farther with every step she takes, and you bite your lip to prevent a call from tumbling out. Not moving an inch until you hear the distant roar of her car driving away, you finally shut the door when you no longer hear or see her car.

Suddenly you feel scarily small. Like a tiny, irrelevant existence born in a world too large and glamorous; a world where you evidently do not belong.

Meandering through the floor, you gaze at the picture frames on the wall as though you are the actress of some old seventies cinema, bemoaning the absence of a long lost lover.

Dramatic, yes, but you have always been more on the theatrical spectrum of humankind, and it isn't like there is much you can do right now anyway. Not unless you want to hole up in your room and stew in your sadness alone. And even though that might sound appealing to most (considering what your room now looks like), it wasn't something you felt like doing at the moment.

So you mindlessly gaze at the pictures, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow in the darkening hallway as you try to find some semblance of familiarity, a speck of comfort or intimacy.

"Y/n?" a soft voice calls out to you, and you twist on your heels, your eyes meeting with those of Yoongi.

"Yoongi-oppa." Voice coming out soft, your words fade at the end as your eyes track the way Yoongi's face glows when the rays of the setting sun hit his skin. Long messy dark blonde hair makes space for his glittering curvy eyes to shine through, and your breath gets caught somewhere in your chest when you look at the vision that was Min Yoongi.

"Exploring?" he asks casually, but even without knowing him for all that long, you can detect the underlying layer of concern in his voice. You don't know if he is being open with you right now, or if you can just read him well, but the concern makes your heart feel a little warmer.

"Something like that." Your answer is ambiguous, but Yoongi doesn't ask you to elaborate, so you don't add anything more, turning back and looking at the pictures again instead.

"This something you enjoy?" Yoongi asks as he moves beside you, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pants, and leans; making himself comfortable against the wall.

Your eyes stray to him. "Sounds like you don't."

"Not really my forte, I can appreciate it from a distance, sure, but not an enthusiast," he replies, the back of his head hitting the wall behind as he looks up at you.

Humming, you shrug. "Same, I guess, it's just fascinating to me. I wish I was smart enough to understand what half of these actually mean, but I am not, so I just appreciate the beauty and move on."

"Fair enough."

You nod and let the silence reign again, but it's a comfortable silence, the kind of quiet where you are both lost in your own thoughts but at the same time appreciate the company of the other.

Slowly the sun sets behind you, and the glassed walls shimmer one last time before the ceiling lights are switched on, bathing the entire floor in warm but bright light.

Yoongi had been silent the entire time as you explored the floor like a child in a zoo, poking and prodding the potted plants, oo-ing and aah-ing over the art around you, fascinated and occupied with the attractions around.

But when the lights switch on, he clears his throat and gets up from the couch he had taken a seat on some time ago, head tilting as he wordlessly asks you a question. You nod back and smile, making your way to him as you finally get ready to spend some time with the rest of your newly acquired family.

As you both make your way to the main hall, you don't miss how your heart is feeling much lighter now. The silent company that Yoongi had provided you with seems to have put you at ease and calmed your racing thoughts.

Walking into the kitchen alone, you try your best to make as little noise as possible. Yoongi, much to your displeasure, had promised that he'd meet you out in a few minutes only to disappear inside of his bedroom and leave you to your own devices.

The sudden bout of bravado from earlier had left your body too, in its place leaving raring, gut-twisting anxiety.

Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, you take out a bottle and pour yourself a glass. The chilled water slides down your throat, quenching your thirst, and you let out a satisfied sigh, smacking your lips in contentment after.

"That thirsty, huh?"

You jump, startled, heart racing and in your throat, as your gaze snaps to the doorway and finds Seokjin standing there. Suit coat hung over his left arm, and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, he was clearly returning back home after a workday.

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit outta me!"

Your brain to mouth filter is seemingly not working after being startled. Feeling anxious was a problem enough, but being scared after was evidently enough to send your last two brain cells out the window. Your common sense and the knowledge that Kim Seokjin was now your stepbrother, eldest stepbrother, flying out the window along with them.

You hear crickets chirping in the distance as an awkward silence blankets the room, and in that moment you want to die. Spontaneously combust and float away into thin air, disappear, dissolve, vanish—die.

"I am so sorry, can we pretend I didn't say that, “you voice out meekly, your eyes avoiding Seokjin’s and instead finding purchase on the wall behind him, seemingly fascinated by the utter whiteness of it.

Hearing a chuckle ring and break the awkwardness in the air, you shift your gaze to the source of said chuckle and catch your eldest brother's gaze. "It's alright Y/n, I get that this is a big adjustment. Please don't feel like you need to rush on anybody's accord, take your time."

And then Kim Seokjin smiles—his pouty, full lips stretched into a small but ridiculously warm smile, and something in your chest clenches at the sight of it. Warning bells ring in the back of your mind, and you squash the thoughts threatening to come forward, their not-so-appropriate nature resulting in an immediate rejection from your end.

Mumbling a thank you, you let him know you'll be down soon and then dash to your bedroom, slamming the door closed once you're inside and sinking down onto the floor.

What the hell was that!?

Raking a hand through your hair, you groan in annoyance, wincing when said hand gets stuck in a tangle and pulls a few strands loose.

Looking back at your impression so far in front of Seokjin, one of your seven step brothers, it had been nothing but absolutely marvellous. So you can't imagine what could possibly go wrong when you sit down at the dinner table and are surrounded by all seven of them.

Nothing, nothing at all, nope-nada-zilch!

Frustrated, you slide a hand down your face, hoping to calm down, but the move only ends up irritating your skin under. The day has been long, and all that you pray for now is that it ends soon. Your bed, which from the looks of it was fit for royalty, was beckoning you over too.

With one last huff, you are pushing yourself up onto your feet and to the bathroom to splash some water, before you go and join the rest of your new family.

Pulling the chair in, you wring your hands nervously under the table, away from any prying eyes. One by one, the rest of your family filters in and takes a seat; Seokjin and Yoongi both pick their seats at the two heads of the table. Hoseok and Namjoon sit on either side of you, with Jimin plopping himself down opposite you, and getting flanked by Jungkook and Taehyugn on either side.

Not much conversation had taken place as they picked their seats, everyone sufficiently tired enough after a long day, but they had smiled or nodded at you when they first entered the dining room.

'Well most of them at least,' you think, eyeing the two youngest, who had both refused to give you even a cursory glance, resulting in your smile going unseen and unreciprocated. Their attitude, however, doesn't bother you too much at this point; as it was, they were virtually nothing more than strangers to you.

Conversations pick up around you, and you feel slightly out of place, as though you are a guest over for dinner rather than their new stepsister, but the feeling doesn't last long, because both Namjoon and Hoseok soon pull you into a conversation. Inquiries come forth about your day, and how your unpacking had gone.

The conversation is mostly superficial, nothing too emotionally challenging; neither of them ask how it feels being a part of their family or something like that, and you are relieved. Grateful, because you don't know if you'd be able to answer those questions anyway. The whole situation is still very odd no matter how many minutes of the day pass.

Someone clears their throat, and your eyes snap to Seokjin, who was pushing his chair back and picking up his glass, the red wine inside sloshing with the movement.

"I've done this before, and yet it never gets any less nerve-wracking," Seokjin starts, and your eyes furrow in confusion, but he continues before you can think about it any more. "Y/n," he says and tips his head in your direction, "I know this must feel a little scary—actually, scratch that, you're probably terrified right now, and that's okay.” he pauses, and takes a breath before continuing, “I'm sure it feels crazy suddenly being thrust into an already established family and being told that now you're one of them, and I just want you to know that I get it. We get it, and we are here for you. If you don’t want to accept us as family, that’s okay too; all of us would understand and support whatever decision you make. I just...” Sighing, he locks eyes with you.

“...I just hope you can let us in eventually, family or not."

Seokjin's eyes bore into yours as he says this, stressing the 'us', and you gulp, feeling the back of your throat tighten at his words. Sensing the fine thread of control that you had over your emotions loosening, you swivel your gaze to the table instead, nodding, your vision growing blurry as you try to blink back the burn in your eyes.

The room goes quiet, as the boys give you time to collect yourself—or sob, you don't know, but you appreciate the consideration nonetheless.

It was going good, it really was. You were holding on, no matter how precarious the hold was, you were holding on. Grasping onto that last string of control and restraint you had with all of your might.

But then Hoseok is wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, letting you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, and the string snaps, his neck growing wet as tears streamed down your face and slid down his skin.

For a few minutes, you forget that you were now surrounded by strangers who you had to accept and call your family. For a few false, delusional minutes you forget that they don't know you, that the care they were showing was genuine and not something they were obligated to. That the one whose hands were drawing circles across your back, the one whose voice was whispering reassurances in your ear—stupid sweet-nothings that you would tell a small child to make them feel better, actually gave a shit about you.

You forget the reality and slip into a safe headspace, letting the warmth of another human encircle you, hold you, wrap you in its cocoon as you weep.

A/N: dedicating this chapter to @mel-gonzalez07, one of my oldest, most loyal readers, and more than anything else an amazing friend. ily angel 💖

Y/n is going through some shitt here. Imagine being thrust into a dynamic that has been established for years, and then having to act like you are meant to be a part of it.

The taglist for the story can be found:- here. A kind reminder that tumblr sometimes doesn’t give an alert for a tag notification, but you’ll find the notification in your notification dash. So, check it once a week as I usually update weekly.

Feedback means the world to me, so tell me what you thought. What would you do if you were in oc’s shoes?

Until next time! Take care you sweet soul and Oo! Go stream folklore 💖

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07 @favsssxx @imluckybitches @nomimits7 @alex4243 @calling-dips-on-j-hope @joonsinnerchild @iconicgguk @untamedfaith @kaheryn @nottodayjjk @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey @beautyyounggirl @blossoming-cherrytrees @seoul9711 @btsismybiass @toochie-too @sugakookie0698 @maboiisuga @kurohas-world @namseokiesmoonv @kerikaaria @chiidbits @girlyyzzyz @loveyoongles @btsfeelzies @knjkitten @honeyspillings @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @starrykook97 @xanny91 @leilalago @jiminie-08 @voguejoonie @lovelikeyouwant

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mrs-hatake · 5 years ago

Text

i guess i’m just a playdate to you

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

Genre: angst

Warning: mentions of character deaths, open and ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2825

A/N: aaaanndd i’m back with more angst! this is inspired by a kakashi edit on tiktok by alyez_ and i LEGIT got all teary eyed after watching so i just HAD to make you guys sad as well lmao.

p.s: Y/E/C = Your/Eye/Color

p.s.s: not proof read

They say that time heals scars but the person who came up with that obviously never lost the person he loved and cherished the most for if they had, then they wouldn’t have said such a careless thing.

You were strongly reminded by that quote as you stood amongst hundreds of Konoha villagers in anticipation for Kakashi’s coronation as Konohakagure’s sixth Hokage.

Everyone had been surprised by the news but they were happy to have such a strong and responsible man as a leader, to no longer feel weak and unprotected but safe and even feared by other villages. Everyone was excited for this day.

But not you.

You were saddened by this.

Suddenly, those around you cheered and applauded as loudly as they can as Tsunade, the former Hokage, stepped onto the podium to address the villagers with a formal goodbye.

Your heart squeezed tightly once your eyes spotted Kakashi standing in the distance, face hidden behind his mask but his eye held no emotion in them.

There was a lump in your throat and you tried to swallow it away but your throat was as dry as sand paper, making it painful for you to swallow.

Tsunade’s words fell on deaf ears as tears filled the corner of your eyes and, without even knowing it, you were pushing yourself out of the crowed and somewhere far away from the coronation. The last thing you heard was the crowed screaming and cheering as Kakashi stepped onto the podium next to Tsunade.

You’ve been walking for hours. How much exactly, you weren’t sure. All that you knew was that your feet were moving for a very long time and soon you found yourself along the outskirts of the Naka River and the sun setting into the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of red and oranges, reminding you of that special day you don’t think you’d ever forget.

It was the day of Rin’s funeral and everyone had gathered to bid the young Kunoichi goodbye.

Although you were a regular civilain and didn’t understand the severity of the loss or the sacrifice she had made, you understood the tragedy the village was facing, especially your childhood neighbor Hatake Kakashi.

Kakashi had wandered off towards the end of the funeral and didn’t bother to stick around for the aftermath of the event.

Knowing how much Kakashi had suffered and the people he had lost in his younger days, you bit your lip in worry as you set off to find him.

Eventually, you found him sitting on a cliff overlooking Konoha, the sun was setting in the distance and it cast the village in an orange hue.

The young boy had his knees pulled up and pressed to his chest while his chin rested on his arms atop of them.

You were positive that there were no words that would comfort the boy so you did the next best thing, you sat next to him with your arm around him and listened to Kakashi as he silently cried.

A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek at the memory but you quickly wiped it away and continued in your aimless walk.

There were rustling sounds coming from one of the bushes in the distance that made you stop in your tracks, your heart beating loudly in your ears in anticipation. Holding your breath, you slowly inched forward and was startled when a small white rabbit jumped from within the bushes.

Your shoulders sagged and a shaky exhale escaped your lips. The small white rabbit stared at you in curiosity, it’s small red eyes blinking up at you.

You offered the harmless creature a small smile but it jumped off deeper into the forest. You watched after it and remembered an early morning similar to this encounter.

When Minato and Kushina died, the entirety of Konoha were in mourn. But no one experienced such a great loss like Kakashi. Right when things were finally starting to get normal and Kakashi had the opportunity to experience what having a loving family was like, his parental figures die, one in battle while the other after giving birth.

Your eyes never wandered off of Kakashi as you followed him through the woods. You knew that Kakashi would run off faster than the speed of light if he wanted to but you were glad that he was allowing you to be close to him. Though, that didn’t mean you didn’t worry over the boy.

He had just returned from evacuating the villagers into safety after the sudden attack of the Kyuubi when the former Hokage had informed Kakashi of Minato and Kushina’s deaths.

Kakashi had no reaction. His eyes didn’t well up with tears, he didn’t let out a cry of anguish, not even questioning the Hokage. He just accepted their deaths and walked out of the office.

You had run into him as you were helping your father clean up your mini market when the silver haired teenager walked by. Your eyes lit up and you were about to greet him with a bright smile but when you noticed his hunched form and his hands buried deep into his pockets, you knew there was something wrong.

You quickly ran off to catch up with Kakashi and when you were within reach, you griped his shoulder and turned him around to face you. The sight that greeted you shook you to your core. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears and his cheeks flushed a deep red color. His mask was soaking wet at the never ending tears cascading down his cheeks.

“They’re gone.”

Harshly, you rubbed your eyes to will the memory away.

You’ve known Kakashi since you were a little girl and for as long as you’ve known the silver haired man, he had always been stalked by tragedy. Wherever he went, whomever he had cherished and valued, tragedy would clutch its greedy fingers on them and snatch them away from Kakashi. It happened with his biological parents, his best friends and then with his parental figures.

It was too much for the teenager and it made perfect sense why he ended up joining ANBU.

“You can’t be serious.”

It had been two weeks since Minato and Kushina’s deaths. The village of Konoha continued on with their lives while the third Hokage returned to his rule.

It was early morning and you were manning the cashier at your father’s mini market. It was a slow and boring day with nothing to entertain you other than a trashy Shinobi magazine with a ‘Top 10 list of the Hottest Shinobi in Konoha.” clutched between your fingers.

It was so quiet that you were about to fall asleep when the door opened and the bells signaled the arrival of a new costumer. Your sleepy expression turned into one of joy as Kakashi walked in and stopped in front of you.

“Kakashi!” Your lips turned upwards into a bright smile, “What can I do for you?”

The teenager said nothing, his hands deep in his pockets, as his eyes scanned the shelves of chewing gum and cigarettes behind you.

“I’m joining ANBU.” He said simply. His voice so quiet that you were certain you misheard him.

You were a civilian and you didn’t know much about the Shinobi world but everyone knew of ANBU. Knew the excruciating and intense training Shinobi went through in order to be masterful and be higher in ranks.

Your smile faltered, “I’m sorry?”

Kakashi’s visible brown eye met yours, “Danzo recruited me to join ANBU.”

Before you could say anything else, Kakashi had turned around and exited the market, leaving you in a stunned daze.

Quickly, you snapped out it and followed after Kakashi.

“Oi, Kakashi! Wait!”

But the boy continued on walking.

Angered, you ran up to him and took hold of his shoulder and forced him around to face you, “What are you doing?”

Kakashi avoided eye contact and said nothing. Your angry aura and the hurt in your eyes ineffective to him.

“Are you seriously joining ANBU or are you playing some mean joke because it isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious.” His eye met yours and you were surprised by the harshness in it. Never in your life had Kakashi looked at you that way. It was so sudden and unfamiliar that you dropped your hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

“It’s dangerous.” You whispered and all that Kakashi could do was shrug his shoulders at you.

“I can handle it.” He said in his quiet, monotone voice.

“You could die!” Your voice grew louder, as if it could somehow explain to Kakashi how stupid joining ANBU was.

He said nothing though and slowly blinked at you.

When you had nothing else to say, Kakashi turned around and walked away.

Tears rapidly filled your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks as you watched Kakashi walk away from you and, possibly, never coming back.

You hadn’t seen nor spoken to Kakashi for the next twelve years after that day. Your entire routine was thrown out of loop as you lost sleep worrying over Kakashi and fearing for his life. You became so depressed that you couldn’t continue working in your father’s mini market and almost dropped out of school had it not been for Gai who visited you one night to inform you about Kakashi’s well-being. You remember breaking down in his arms, relief suffocating you at knowing that Kakashi was alive and well.

You didn’t get to see Kakashi until your second year as an elementary school teacher for the civilian children of Konoha. It happened by accident really. You were tidying up the class and preparing for the day’s lesson plan when you had spotted the taller and stronger looking man through the window.

His face was still hidden behind his mask and his right eye was still hidden from sight. He was followed by three children who all had different hair colors; one girl had long pink hair while the two other boys had blonde and black hairs respectively.

His appearance stunned you into silence and you would’ve left the classroom to follow after the man had it not been for your students walking in and announcing their presence.

The second time you saw Kakashi was another coincidence. School had been let out early and you didn’t feel like going home just eat. Instead, you went to Ichiraku’s Ramen shop for lunch.

“I’ll be sure to drop by again!” You called over your shoulders, a melodic chuckle escaping your lips, when you suddenly bumped into someone.

Large hands strongly gripped onto your shoulders to balance your footing and to prevent you from falling, “I’m sorry! I should’ve wa-”

Brown eye met Y/E/C in a startled yet dumfounded expression.

“-tch where I’m going.” You trailed off.

Seeing Kakashi up close was messing up with your head and your heart was beating so loud you feared that it would stop.

“It’s fine.” His voice was deeper but it still had the quietness in it. Vaguely, you remembered Kakashi’s father having a similar tone of voice.

“Hurry up, Kakashi! You’re paying!” The shouts of a blonde boy sitting on the barstool interrupted your thoughts and the two of you jumped back.

“I should go.” Kakashi stated and rubbed the back his neck.

All you could do was nod your head and watch him walk into the ramen shop. Something deep inside of you told you that won’t be the last time you’d run into the most powerful Shinobi and you could feel a small smile crawl its way across your lips in anticipation.

Things between you and Kakashi were great. Your friendship rekindled and your bond grew stronger than ever. However, Kakashi still kept his distance. And, as an adult and having heard of the risks of the Shinobi lifestyle, you understood and accepted Kakashi’s cautions, especially knowing what kind of childhood he suffered.

And when tragedy struck again with one of his students (you eventually learn as Sasuke) took off with a dangerous rouge Shinobi, you were there for Kakashi.

You were even there when Naruto left Konoha to train with his mentor and Sakura interning for Tsunade, and comforted Kakashi during his loneliness.

And right before the beginning of the Fourth Great War where Kakashi had snuck into your apartment and begged for you to stay safe and wait for him, his brown eye wet with unshed tears, you did as your told and sealed the promise with a kiss to the cheek.

So it made no sense for Kakashi to return to apartment one day after the Great War with his expression resembling the very same one when he had told you he was joining ANBU.

You already knew Kakashi was going to say something you weren’t going to like by that expression alone and you were already shaking your head ‘no’ before he could even say anything else.

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“No!” You shut your eyes tight, not wanting for whatever it was Kakashi was going to say to come true.

You heard him deeply sigh through his nose and soon felt his strong arms wrap around you, “I’m sorry.” He whispered softly into your ears, in hopes to calm you down, “But I’ve been chosen and they need m-”

But you didn’t want to hear what Kakashi was saying so you walked away from his embrace, “I need you!” You spat harshly, tear streaks on your cheeks.

“I was there for you. During everything, not out of obligation but out of love and you left me to join ANBU. That broke my heart, Kakashi, did you know that?”

The silver haired man didn’t. He said nothing as he watched you run your hand through your locks of hair, making it appear messier than its usual kept style.

“I was alone and depressed. I was scared that i would never see you again.” Teary Y/E/C met his briefly before looking away, “And when I finally moved on and things became normal, you’re back in my life as if nothing happened.” You chuckled humorously.

“And I was there for you when your kids left, I was there for you when literally died, even if only for a couple of minutes, and I waited for you during the war. And when it was finally over, when I thought that we’d finally live our lives like everyone else and finally be together, you want to throw all of that to be a Hokage!”

You were panting and your eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. The tears stopped falling but your cheeks were still wet. “I would be fine if you said you’re going to be Hokage and I could be there for you a-as a friend - maybe something even more if you’ve ever felt that way towards me - but you tell me that you can no longer see me.”

It wasn’t meant as a question, though Kakashi answered nonetheless, “To keep you saf-”

“I don’t give a shit!”

Silence met your ears and once you were able to calm down, You had asked Kakashi to leave.

That was a week ago and you haven’t seen Kakashi until earlier today.

When your feet halted their movements, blood staining the soles of your feet and your toes in pain, you finally stopped walking at the end of Naka river.

The sun had completely set and the forest was eerily quiet. You weren’t sure how far away from home you were though, you didn’t care. You just wanted to be as far away from the ceremony as possible.

Sitting down on the grass, you wondered how differently your life could’ve been if you had run into Kakashi outside of the ramen shop. Would you have fallen in love with a civilian that you’d eventually marry? You’d probably have at least two of his kids by now running around your tiny little home. Would you have let them join the Academy if they had asked you to? Probably not.

Maybe you and Kakashi were never meant to be. Your love from your childhood well into your adulthood could’ve been one sided after all. Though, there were moments where you believed Kakashi loved you as much as you did. Maybe not during his childhood but you’ve seen it in his adulthood. The way he’d look at you when you thought you weren’t looking, those brief touches and him always visiting you after returning from a dangerous mission. You were positive that he loved you when Kakashi had been to your apartment and told you to stay safe before the Great War all those months ago.

Exhaustion settled into you and your eyes soon grew droopy. Resting against a tree, you entertained your mind of thoughts of Kakashi retiring from the Shinobi life and spending the rest of his days with you as you welcomed the cold embrace of sleep.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi scenario #hatake kakashi scenario

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agerefandom · 4 years ago

Text

Safe and Sound

Fandom: Steven Universe

Characters: Regressor!Steven, featuring Amethyst, Pearl, and Garnet as caregivers.

Words: 2,000

Summary: Steven decides to give up regression when he becomes part of the Crystal Gems, but one morning he finds himself physically stuck as a young child until he’s willing to accept the help he needs.

Warnings: ‘Little’ terminology used. Rose is mentioned in this fanfiction, Steven regresses from stress, and there is a mention of panic attacks, as well as a fair amount of described anxiety. Also, Steven physically regresses as well as mentally, because it’s canon that his body shifts to fit the age that he feels like? Cartoons are odd.

Note: This is set somewhere in season two, I think, but it’s a bit ambiguous. I haven’t seen Steven Universe Future yet, so excuse any contradictions, and the canon fact that the Gems are absolute disaster caregivers.

Steven loved the beach house that he shared with the Gems. He loved the constant sound of the waves, and the calm glow of the warp pad at night. He loved the short and familiar walk to town, his comfortable bed, and the bathtub deep enough that he could submerge his whole body.

The only thing that Steven hated about his home was the lack of privacy.

Even when the Gems were away on a mission, they could warp back in at any given moment. At night, Amethyst often wandered in to get a midnight snack, and Steven was sure that Pearl still watched him sleep, even if he hadn’t caught her recently.

So when Steven wanted to regress, he had to plan ahead.

At first, he had retreated into his mother’s room, knowing that no one could access it while he was inside. But as soon as he stopped being careful about what he wished for, Rose was always there, stepping off a nearby cloud to collect her son into her arms. Steven was happy to see his mother when he was little, playing and laughing and sharing his favourite stories. But at some point, he always aged up, and Rose would change into a figure who was silent, and looming, and distant. Steven would retreat from the room feeling more exhausted than before, promising himself that he wouldn’t go in again.

Lion became Steven’s source of escape. He would pack a bag, hop on Lion’s back, and tell the Gems that he was spending the afternoon with Connie, or Ronaldo, or even Sadie. He had enough friends that the Gems never checked first, and then he had a whole day to spend in a field in Alberta, or Texas, or even France.

Lion would pace around the area while Steven played, rumbling warnings at anyone who tried to approach. Steven would run, and explore, and eventually sit down and cry until his throat hurt too much to continue. Often, Lion would come and curl against him while he cried, turning his head away to feign indifference as his tail wrapped around Steven’s wrist.

Regression was only fun for a while, for Steven. Eventually, reality came crashing back in, harsher and bleaker in contrast to the bright innocent world he had inhabited for a few too-brief minutes.

Yet he came back to it again and again, not knowing a better way to escape the constant anxiety of his everyday life. He needed to forget about the most current threat to planet Earth, needed to forget about Pearl and Amethyst’s most recent fight. Needed to forget the guilt of walking in on his father crying over a picture of Rose.

Regression was a safe space like nothing else in his life was, ruled by uncertainty and continual attacks from outside and inside his family.

Eventually, it fell apart.

As Steven was expected on more missions, the Gems might need him at any moment. If Steven wasn’t where he said he’d be, then all hell would break loose as the Gems searched for him. He was scared that if it happened too many times, then the Gems would stop letting him leave with Lion at all.

So there was only one thing to do. Steven had to give up regression. There was no time or space for it in his life, he always needed to be available for Crystal Gem missions. It was alright that the others forgot he needed to sleep, needed to eat, needed to rest between missions spent running after corrupted gems.

Steven was a Crystal Gem now, and he needed to act like it. That meant no more running away to be a kid every so often.

Steven was going cold-turkey.

But of course, things didn’t really work out like that. Steven managed to hang on for two full months, hiding his panic attacks in the bathroom and trying not to fall asleep on the couch whenever he sat down.

At the start of the second month, he woke up to the morning sun with tears already running down his face. His clothes were too big on him, and his arms felt weak when he tried to move them.

Trying not to panic, Steven looked down at himself and saw a young child’s body, twisted in the sheets and teenage-sized clothes that he’d slept in. He needed to shift back to normal-Steven before the Gems came out to see him!

But Steven couldn’t stop sobbing, and however hard he concentrated, he couldn’t calm down enough to shift back to his usual size. His failed attempts made him cry harder. What was he going to do? No one could see him like this!

Just as he was getting ready to truly panic, he heard the warp pad activate. Hurriedly throwing the covers over himself, Steven tried to cry as quietly as possible.

The Gem’s voices were bright as they spread out across the house, Amethyst’s voice drifting towards the fridge as the others settled on the couch. Their mission must have gone well. Pearl sounded especially enthused, but Steven couldn’t make out the words through the pounding panic in his head. Any minute they would notice him, unless he kept absolutely still. He had to keep absolutely quiet, despite the way that his chest was spasming, and he couldn’t breathe, and he just wanted his paci-

“Steven.” Garnet’s voice drifted up from below him, low and calm. “We’re home.”

Steven twisted his fists into the blankets, making a renewed effort to calm his breathing. If Garnet thought something was wrong, she would know everything as soon as she thought to look. Steven tried to make his voice sound normal, even though his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh, cool. I’m just having a n-nap.” His voice hitched on the last word, and he froze under the covers. There was silence for a beat, and then Pearl’s voice murmured a question to Garnet, too quiet for Steven to hear.

“What’s wrong, dude?” Amethyst broke right to the point, and Steven could hear her coming towards the stairs. He curled tighter into the blankets, prepared to wrestle them away from Amethyst’s grasping hands. But she stopped at the bottom and called up to him again. “Steven? Are you sick? If you’re gonna throw up, I wanna see!”

“Amethyst!” Pearl’s voice was sharp until she turned her attention to Steven. “Steven, are you alright? Do you need some food?” Steven had snapped at her about needing to eat breakfast a few weeks ago, and she had taken to offering snacks at the first sign of Steven’s distress.

“Steven is fine,” Garnet said calmly, and the other two made questioning noises at her. Steven curled tighter into the blanket, confused. He wasn’t fine! What was Garnet saying? Was she lying, or did she somehow not know what was happening? “Steven, you can come out and see us. No one will be mad.” Steven whimpered. Garnet was definitely lying. She wanted him to come out so that they could fix him.

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Pearl was saying.

“Come on, Steven.” Garnet’s voice was familiar, soft and certain. She always knew what was best, didn’t she? “You know we love to play with you. We always want to be with you, and spend time with you.”

“Of course we do!” Pearl’s voice was shrill. “We love Steven, he knows that!”

“Yeah, duh!” Amethyst added. “Steven is the best.”

Steven couldn’t stifle the tears as they spoke. They didn’t know who he was, didn’t know what he was hiding. They would see that he was just a stupid kid, that he couldn’t handle being a Crystal Gem. Why did they have to love him? It wasn’t fair. They would have just left him alone if they cared less, and then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Steven?” Pearl was the one to climb the stairs, her voice alarmed. “Steven, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” She scooped Steven off the bed, blankets and all, to hold him tight. “Come on, Steven, stop crying. We’re all here.” She started to unwrap the blankets from around him, and Steven panicked.

“No!” he shouted, trying to push her away. “No, no, no!” Pearl gasped, and then Steven was on the floor. The blankets were in his face, wrapped around his neck, and all of a sudden Steven felt trapped. He pushed at them, rolling on the floor, kicking arms and legs that were too small and too weak. He couldn’t breathe, but then the next second the blankets were gone and he was drawing in a breath to cry out again, the wailing cry of an overwhelmed toddler. “Leave me alone!” Steven shouted, slamming his hands into the wood of the floor. “Leave me alone!”

Hands wrapped around him and he was lifted off the floor. Steven wriggled against them, but they held strong, and suddenly he was cradled against the side of Garnet’s hip, held stable and safe against her. Garnet bounced Steven lightly, practised and easy.

“Hush, little one,” Garnet murmured. “We carried you for years, you know that.” Steven hid his face in her shoulder, sniffling. He was exposed, yet protected. He was vulnerable, yet safe. He didn’t know how to feel or what he should do. He was starting to calm down now, so surely he should shift back to normal as soon as possible? Being big-Steven seemed so far away and impossible, even as the tears and panic subsided. Garnet’s arms were so nice, so familiar.

“Do humans do that?” Pearl asked from somewhere over Garnet’s shoulder. “I thought they were linear time-beings and rather bitter about it.”

“Steven’s only half-human,” Garnet reminded her. “He’s special.”

“Can I hold him? Can I hold him?” Amethyst’s voice was as excited as ever. “Is he young enough for a bottle? I still have some of them in my room!”

“Nothing from your room is going into Steven’s mouth without a good wash first,” Pearl said sharply. “But I do have a clean bottle or two stored in my gem, if it would help,” she added to Garnet.

“Steven gets to make the decision,” Garnet said simply, shifting her hold on Steven so that he was sitting on her lap, on the edge of his bed, looking outwards. Once his hands were free, Steven put his fingers into his mouth and bit down anxiously, trying not to meet the eyes of the three Gems watching him.

“Oh, those are filthy,” Pearl admonished, and the next second Steven felt his fingers being pulled away, replaced smoothly by a pacifier. The familiar pressure on his tongue made him relax, and he finally looked up. Pearl was smiling at him, her gem still sparkling from when she had summoned the pacifier. Was she not angry?

“What’d’you say, Steven?” Amethyst’s face was suddenly right in front of him, her eyes big and hopeful. “Do you want a bottle from your big sis Amethyst?”

“Amethyst,” Steven tried to say, but around the pacifier it sounded like babbling. He felt himself go red, and bobbed his head in a nod.

Amethyst pumped a fist in the air and said something enthusiastically, but Steven didn’t hear it because Garnet had put her hands over his ears. Pearl looked angry about Amethyst’s outburst, wagging her finger and pointing to Steven. Steven could feel Garnet laughing against his back.

“You have a silly family, Steven,” Garnet murmured when she took her hands back. “But they all love you very much.”

“Sorry, Steven,” said Amethyst, looking contrite. “I forgot you were little for a second.”

“Baba!” Steven managed around his paci, making grabby hands. Wasn’t Amethyst going to feed him?

“Coming right up!” Pearl sing-songed, dropping a kiss on Steven’s forehead before summoning a shiny bottle out of her gem with a wave of her hand. She passed the bottle to Amethyst, who did a front-flip off the bed, landed on the couch, and bounced all the way to the kitchen with one more jump.

“Oooh!” Steven clapped for her, laughing.

“Amethyst, use the stairs!” Pearl sighed, before kneeling down in front of Steven. “Hello, Steven,” she said gently. “Do you remember me?”

“Pearl!” Steven tried around his paci, and Pearl beamed at him.

“That’s right!” She tapped the end of his nose, and Steven giggled. “Now, what did you eat for breakfast yesterday?”

Steven let the paci fall from his mouth, barely noticing Garnet catch it. “Donuts!” he told Pearl proudly. “Walk all the way!”

“You do eat a lot of donuts! Who gives you the donuts?”

“Sadie!” Steven was bouncing on Garnet’s lap, giggling. “And Lars!”

“Good job!” Pearl produced a star sticker from what seemed like nowhere and pressed it to the front of Steven’s too-big shirt. “You’re a very smart little human.”

“Uh-huh!” Steven looked around for his paci, but Garnet was already putting it back in his mouth. He settled back against her chest, humming happily. He had the best Gems ever.

“I told you he was fine,” Garnet said without reproach. Her fingers scratched gently at Steven’s scalp, making him melt even further. “You remember his last birthday, he was even younger then.”

“We don’t know how a Rejuvenator would affect a half-human,” Pearl murmured. Her words washed over Steven as he hummed, wriggling closer to Garnet’s wonderful hands. “You know I like to be careful. You know who he is.”

“Yes.” Garnet sighed, trailing one hand down to tickle under Steven’s chin, making him giggle. “I understand. But I think this is part of our wonderful Steven. A little bit of the past, every now and then.”

“I got the bottle!” Amethyst burst back into the conversation, stomping up the stairs two at a time. “Where’s the Steven?”

“Baba!” Steven reached out for his food-bringer, grinning so wide that his paci slipped out again. He frowned, reaching for it, but Garnet had it in one hand.

“You’ll get it back after your bottle,” she told him, and handed him over to Amethyst.

Amethyst hoisted him up in the air, and Steven sniffled, feeling unsafe with all the air under his feet. “Oh, sorry.” Amethyst put Steven down before he started to cry again, sitting down with him on her lap. She cradled him like a baby, which Steven wasn’t, but he was pretty comfy so he relaxed into her arms. “Okay, little dude, open wide!” Amethyst made lots of funny faces and noses while Steven drank the warm milk inside the bottle, making him giggle and spill milk down the front of his chin. That made Amethyst laugh out loud, jostling Steven in her lap. Garnet and Pearl sat on the end of the bed, watching them both with fond smiles.

By the end of the bottle, Steven’s eyelids were as heavy as big huge rocks. He was trying to stay awake, but he was yawning to much to even keep in his paci.

“We’ll still be here when you wake up,” Garnet said, laying Steven carefully on a pillow as Pearl untangled the sheet from the ground and laid it over him, tucking it in carefully on all sides.

“Yeah! We can play little Steven tag!” Amethyst said, shape-shifting into the same size as Steven was.

“Lil’ Steven tag,” Steven yawned. That sounded like lots of fun, he wanted to play now but his eyelids were so heavy…

“We love you,” Garnet murmured, and that was the last thing Steven heard as he fell asleep.

#steven universe agere #su agere #agere fanfiction #agere fic #agere fics #sfw agere #cglre #fandom agere #cglre terminology #steven universe #my fics

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renfricrey · 4 years ago

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I saw your call for asks and I answer: please feed me with Eskel x reader content if you write it, or just Eskel stuff in general. Maybe like modern college au? Maybe... they were roommates??

*squeal* My first ask!!! Okay so I never before thought about a character x reader stuff so please tell me if there is a better way to go around it! Sooo with Eskel in modern setting, I think he’d of course keep his scars, but it wouldn’t have been a feral child surprise that mauls him but instead... hmm... well, probably a dog attacked him when he was a kid and that kind of left him disfigured in his face. So he’d arrive to college insecure about his looks, because that stuff is extremely hard to get over, but also used to the stares and similar. He probably grew up a loner besides his brothers with whom he feels comfortable; I don’t see him as having his friend group but more like he’s “adopted” by Geralt’s friends. (Seriously, for such a grumpy man in the books he sure as fuck has a loyal bunch of friends :P ) So when he arrives to college, possibly the same one as Geralt, he ends up having to room with a stranger because Geralt actually moved in with his girlfriend, Yennefer, who has her own place in the city. They offered Eskel to live with them too but he wasn’t keen on playing a third wheel, and he didn’t want to stay home because it is not only a very long drive every day but also the house is a complete chaos with Lambert being in his rebellious teen phase. So, he applies for dorms, and in enters Y/N (Are they male or female? I automatically went with female up to this point but now I realize most dorms aren’t coed- okay, I’ll leave it ambiguous now but feel free to send me a clarification for more content, because the gender norms could influence how the story progresses and characters act. Eskel is bi in his AU I think) Eskel is a very polite roommate, but also closed off, unused to sharing personal space with strangers and naturally shy about his scaring. (he has a habit of wearing hoods and sunglasses to hide it as much as he can) however, Y/N barely acts like they notice the scaring. Eskel thinks they are being polite, but it first and foremost is because they are distracted by those gorgeous amber eyes. Eskel likes Y/N too but is of course not about to make a move because he feels they aren’t into him. Yes he’s blind and stupid but poor man has never been in a relationship before. I think it would be a very slow burn romance with them first building a solid ass friendship. Hell, imagine if they only got together in their second year? I was thinking about them being snowed in or maybe having had a little liquid courage before they confess, but imagine if it was just a most natural, casual thing? They say goodbye after the first year, end up not seeing each other during the summer, maybe Y/N is dragged of on a family holiday right after they leave the dorm for the summer, and once they are back, Eskel is perhaps very busy at home with his little brother because Lambert has been acting a bloody murder the whole time his big brothers were at college so there is family drama there, and by the end of summer he is busy helping Geralt and Yen move Lambert’s stuff in her place because the little shit threw enough of a tantrum to have him moved to the city where he’s close his brothers. Soooo they haven’t seen each other the whole summer, but they have been texting and video calling all the time, and have even shortly introduced each other to various members of their families when someone would pass by as they talk. Lambert has already decided that Y/N is Eskel’s “boo” which makes the older blush, but he stopped denying it early on because he DID fall in love somewhere along the way. And once they reunite at the beginning of the school year, they meet at the parking lot as they arrive at the same time. Y/N runs over to Eskel, and without missing a beat, Eskel picks them up and kisses them. He freezes for a moment, worrying he fucked up, he misread the signals, but then Y/N hugs him tighter and kisses him back and he knows everything is okay. Over the course of the next year, Eskel ends up invited to Y/N’s summer family holiday, and Y/N ends up helping several times with Lambert related issues, realizing quickly that there is some family drama in Eskel’s household but loving him enough for that not to deter them. The same way Yen accepted it for Geralt, Y/N makes sure Eskel knows she’s there not just for him but for his family too- and Eskel extends the same courtesy to them. It is over a really healthy relationship. Now, I do want this to culminate in a marriage, but do you think it is weird if it just smoothly moves into that? Should they have a break after college or at least a squabble? Because on one hand, Eskel could need time to understand that yes, it is okay if his first partner is the love of his life, but on the other hand, why not just have it be a fairy tale? Our boy deserves good things!

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project-ohagi · 5 years ago

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Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

His confession was incredibly unexpected. This professional hero - someone you should have never even met, apparently wanted to be with you. The notion made you chuckle; he was suave and charming, yet childish and playful. You could have said or done something with your quirk - force his mouth, so that he would spill his deepest, darkest secrets, giving you a clear advantage, plus blackmail material. It was possible for you to persuade his legs to move, twist his arms, will him to choke himself. You wouldn't have to make a sound; you would simply just watch and wait.

"We'd make a great pair, y'know?" He stated, breaking the comfortable silence.

You were always scheming, so instantly, you recognised this for what it was: a farce. Your bewitching, (e/c) irises sparkled with mischief. Surely, this man knew better than to trick you - a mastermind with extraordinary mental fortitude, and a power so intense, so unchallenged, that you became acquaintances with all types of people, without actually risking danger to yourself. Your contacts included the League of Villains and the Yakuza, alongside top-ranking heroes such as Hawks and Best Jeanist. The former was on record as wanting to join the League, but for some reason, he seemed to think that going through you was the smartest option, as though he assumed you would immediately fall for his radiance, forgetting everything about him quite obviously being an undercover agent. You never mentioned this catastrophic knowledge to Shigaraki or his minions, because pondering over the outcome of a successful infiltration was far too alluring. You might even help him.

"Pardon?" You questioned politely, batting your eyelashes. "Would it kill you to be a little less ambiguous?"

He laughed. "What d'ya mean?"

Placing a hand on your hip, you locked eyes with the slightly smaller male. "'Pair' could mean practically anything. Do you want me to go into the light? Elope with you? Help you conspicuously plant a body in a remote ditch off the crossroads, six meters below ground, then pat it down with concrete?"

Hawks' lustrous wings twitched, nerves shooting through them.

"Eh...you put waaay too much thought into that last one."

Your lips tugged upwards. "That was definitely not based on past experiences, but just to be safe, don't go looking. You won't find anything now, anyway."

"Well...okay. I kinda meant the second one. Like, seriously; you're really pretty and -please don't hurt me- I'd really like to date you." His cheeky grin returned, and he finished, "Aaand, I think you like me too, amIright?"

That was the extent of what you bothered to remember. Since then, he made a habit of intruding on your private life, more so than previously. He started turning up at your house, either obnoxiously knocking on your door, or flying up to one of the many windows and hauling himself through. From there, he would venture to your chambers, or wherever else he desired to be. He often searched your house, in an effort to find anything about the people you worked with. However, you kept that sort of information well hidden, and he never managed to find it. Instead, he learned more about you in general - bits and pieces regarding your estranged family. You were certain that, somewhere down the line, a member of your family was currently studying at the prestigious hero school, known as UA. You wagered that, if and when they became a hero, they would likely hunt you down, although you might be significantly older by then. The moment you abandoned that stifling household, you vowed to never have anything to do with it. You weren't completely sure if they mourned the loss, but, this new addition certainly would.

You realised a short while before him, that he was unintentionally falling for you. Those brown, beady eyes followed you all the time, even when his mind was elsewhere. You thoroughly enjoyed lifting up his chin and gazing at his pale features, while small strands of stubble tickled your skin. Rather than showing confusion, he would wiggle his eyebrows and make provocative expressions, that usually resulted in a heated make-out session, despite your heart not really being in the relationship. You knew his game, but he was failing.

Fast.

Keeping him close was a priority, not only for his utmost protection, but also because he was very amusing. You found yourself smiling and laughing more often, instead of looking at him - at everything - with disdain. He was drawing out the tendrils of your cheerful personality, and accentuating them a hundredfold. You lay in his embrace at night, listening to the loud snoring, feeling his wings flapping against your bare flesh. You noticed a pounding in your chest, so loud you feared it might wake him. Gently poking his cheeks, gaining a sweet satisfaction from the way his nose scrunched up, you shuffled further into his hold. It felt safe - you had spent so long acting as his sanctuary, but perhaps he was yours? Something else that you observed - he wore those stud earrings to bed. You reached out a hand, tracing his earlobe. He shivered, pulling you impossibly closer. His body heat was not to be underestimated, for he was always your heater on winter nights. A timid blush wormed its way on to your face.

Some nights, when neither of you fell to the seduction of sleep, you would wander aimlessly around the streets, clinging to each other and whispering about trivial things. If you passed someone who recognised him, a wave of jealousy would overtake you, until he came back and teased you for avoiding his gaze. You flushed with embarrassment.

"I really do love you, (Y/n). You knew that all along, huh?" He was grinning, but there was an underlying insecurity that you might have missed, had you not wiled away so many hours in his company, picking up on his habits and learning to see through his façades.

He wasn't confident in your feelings.

"I did." You nodded. "But the past doesn't matter now - you won me over, hero. Now you have to deal with me forever."

His cheeky smile returned, white teeth visible.

"Forever sounds perfect."

[Word Count: 1038]

#bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x reader #bnha hawks #bnha hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #fluff

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gaylotusthatexists · 5 years ago

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at fourteen years old

pairing: logicality, background dukexiety

summary: At fourteen years old, Patton met Logan, and the two fell in love.

trigger warnings: sympathetic remus, kinda a bittersweet/ambiguous ending? idk. if you don’t want to be super aware of the passage of time maybe don’t read this. please let me know i need to add anything tho.

word count: 1142

a/n: day fifteen :0 we are half way through y’all!!! today’s prompt was ‘growing old together’ and anyway i got emotional writing this, hope y’all enjoy <3

ao3

At fourteen years old, Patton met Logan. Logan was quiet, didn't like people, and didn't seem to want anything to do with Patton - but he didn't want anything to do with anyone else, either. So Patton talked to him, every day, asking for help with maths or seeing if he wanted to sit with him and his friends for lunch. Logan never initiated the conversation, but after a while he began to speak back, and, one day, he smiled.

At fifteen years old, Logan finally took Patton up on his offer to sit with him at lunch. Patton's friends weren't sure what to make of Logan at first, and Logan was still quiet, so, so quiet, but he continued to sit with Patton the whole year, and Patton couldn't have been happier. Logan began to hang out with Patton more, even going round to his house after school. They were friends.

At sixteen years old, Logan came out to Patton. That was the first time that Patton had seen Logan cry - both with sad tears, at first, frustrated tears and anxious tears as he was unsure how to tell Patton the truth, but then happy tears when Patton told him he accepted him, and that it didn't change a thing. Patton came out to him, as well, even though he thought that Logan already knew, that everyone already knew. Still, Logan was comforted by the fact that he wasn't alone.

At seventeen years old, Logan and Patton attended the school dance together, hand in hand. Logan had worn a suit and tie, and slicked his hair back after a fresh cut (even though Patton knew for a fact that Logan had been wanting to grow it out - he'd get there eventually). Patton had worn a flowery skirt, that twirled around his body when he spun. Logan had told him that he looked beautiful and Patton had blushed. They said they went as friends, but perhaps they both wanted more.

At eighteen years old, they started dating, finally stopping that awkward game they'd been playing for years, trying to ignore their feelings for one another. Patton had told his friends and family, Logan had told no one. After school, Logan went away to university, and Patton went straight into work in his hometown.

At nineteen years old, Patton moved away to Logan's city. He didn't attend the university, but rent was cheaper there, and he wanted to be around Logan as much as possible. Plus, it was getting a little awkward around his parents, and he wanted somewhere he could be free. He'd visit Logan's apartment every other night, or Logan would visit his, and every morning Patton would walk Logan to his classes before work. It was rare that they were ever seen apart.

At twenty one years old, Patton and Logan moved into an apartment together. Patton was beginning to struggle with rent by himself, and Logan wanted to move away from campus. He would be finished with school soon - after that, he would move on to a good paying job, but he'd never leave Patton's side.

At twenty seven years old, Logan got a better paying job across the country, and the two moved into a bigger house together. They brought a dog, and Patton worked hard to decorate their forever home properly. Logan's hair reached half way down his back now, and he wore it in plaits. One night, Logan proposed.

At twenty nine years old, Logan and Patton got married. Patton had always wanted to get married in a church, but he knew that Logan didn't believe in that kind of stuff, and that was fine. The wedding was hosted in their garden - their friends from school came up to attend, as well as Logan's friends from work and Patton's friends from the animal shelter he volunteered at. Patton's parents came, but Logan's didn't. After the wedding, they spent a week together in Spain, away from everyone else. It was just them.

At thirty five years old, they adopted a kid - Virgil, at eleven years old. He was scared, at first, not quite sure what to make of the two of them, but he quickly warmed up to Patton. Logan was a little harder, always out at work, but eventually they figured out they both had an interest in astronomy, with led to them growing closer.

At thirty eight years old, Virgil came out as nonbinary. The first thing that Patton did was take his child out to buy some skirts, after they had expressed interest in dressing more feminine - he even told them that he used to do the same thing, and even today liked to wear a dress every now and then. Logan helped to inform the school and ensure that everyone respected his child's choices, and as a frequent donor to the school, they had no choice but to comply.

At forty two years old, Virgil left for university, and Logan and Patton were alone in the house again. Patton felt satisfied with his life - he'd graduated school with alright grades, he'd married the love of his life, and he'd raised a brilliant child, going on to do great things. Logan still wanted more - he always had, always needed to be better. Logan quit his job and returned to a community collage, taking some courses on astronomy. He got a job at NASA soon after.

At forty nine years old, Patton and Logan attended Virgil's wedding, to his boyfriend, Remus, of four years. At first, Patton hadn't been so sure of Remus - the two hadn't been together long before they got married, and Remus was a little... much, at times. But he made Virgil happy, and Patton supposed he was a little biased on the time they'd spent together, as he had known Logan for years before they even got together. Logan never had a problem with Remus - he just wanted to support his child (well, not exactly a child anymore, Logan supposed) as best he could.

At seventy years old, Logan retired. He was getting tired, and they had enough money between them that neither would have to work. They spent a lot of time together at home, eventually fostering some other kids. Their first dog had died years ago, but they'd had several others since. They didn't get any more past seventy five, and stopped fostering past eighty.

At eighty five years old, Logan and Patton sat out on their front porch together, looking out across the sunset. Patton remembered how he'd met Logan, and how he'd had the best life possible with Logan by his side. They reached out and took one another's hand, smiling at each other, satisfied with everything they had done.

Ever since fourteen years old, Logan and Patton had loved each other, and that wonderful feeling never ended.

#prideprompts2020 #sanders sides #thomas sanders #logicality #dukexiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #enby!virgil #remus sanders #my fanfic #my writing

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harryandmeghansussex · 4 years ago

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Day 18 of @defendingtheduchesses 's Meghan memories challenge.

Meghan's writing has always been one of my favourite strengths of hers. And I thought I would share one for day 18, so I picked this important one.

'What are you?' A question I get asked every week of my life, often every day. 'Well,' I say, as I begin the verbal dance I know all too well. 'I'm an actress, a writer, the Editor-in-Chief of my lifestyle brand The Tig, a pretty good cook and a firm believer in handwritten notes.' A mouthful, yes, but one that I feel paints a pretty solid picture of who I am. But here's what happens: they smile and nod politely, maybe even chuckle, before getting to their point, 'Right, but what are you? Where are your parents from?' I knew it was coming, I always do. While I could say Pennsylvania and Ohio, and continue this proverbial two-step, I instead give them what they're after: 'My dad is Caucasian and my mom is African American. I'm half black and half white.

To describe something as being black and white means it is clearly defined. Yet when your ethnicity is black and white, the dichotomy is not that clear. In fact, it creates a grey area. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating. When I was asked by ELLE to share my story, I'll be honest, I was scared. It's easy to talk about which make-up I prefer, my favourite scene I've filmed, the rigmarole of 'a day in the life' and how much green juice I consume before a requisite Pilates class. And while I have dipped my toes into this on thetig.com, sharing small vignettes of my experiences as a biracial woman, today I am choosing to be braver, to go a bit deeper, and to share a much larger picture of that with you.

It was the late Seventies when my parents met, my dad was a lighting director for a soap opera and my mom was a temp at the studio. I like to think he was drawn to her sweet eyes and her Afro, plus their shared love of antiques. Whatever it was, they married and had me. They moved into a house in The Valley in LA, to a neighbourhood that was leafy and affordable. What it was not, however, was diverse. And there was my mom, caramel in complexion with her light-skinned baby in tow, being asked where my mother was since they assumed she was the nanny.

I was too young at the time to know what it was like for my parents, but I can tell you what it was like for me – how they crafted the world around me to make me feel like I wasn't different but special. When I was about seven, I had been fawning over a boxed set of Barbie dolls. It was called The Heart Family and included a mom doll, a dad doll, and two children. This perfect nuclear family was only sold in sets of white dolls or black dolls. I don't remember coveting one over the other, I just wanted one. On Christmas morning, swathed in glitter-flecked wrapping paper, there I found my Heart Family: a black mom doll, a white dad doll, and a child in each colour. My dad had taken the sets apart and customised my family.

Fast-forward to the seventh grade and my parents couldn't protect me as much as they could when I was younger. There was a mandatory census I had to complete in my English class – you had to check one of the boxes to indicate your ethnicity: white, black, Hispanic or Asian. There I was (my curly hair, my freckled face, my pale skin, my mixed race) looking down at these boxes, not wanting to mess up, but not knowing what to do. You could only choose one, but that would be to choose one parent over the other – and one half of myself over the other. My teacher told me to check the box for Caucasian. 'Because that's how you look, Meghan,' she said. I put down my pen. Not as an act of defiance, but rather a symptom of my confusion. I couldn't bring myself to do that, to picture the pit-in-her-belly sadness my mother would feel if she were to find out. So, I didn't tick a box. I left my identity blank – a question mark, an absolute incomplete – much like how I felt.

When I went home that night, I told my dad what had happened. He said the words that have always stayed with me: 'If that happens again, you draw your own box.'

I never saw my father angry, but in that moment I could see the blotchiness of his skin crawling from pink to red. It made the green of his eyes pop and his brow was weighted at the thought of his daughter being prey to ignorance. Growing up in a homogeneous community in Pennsylvania, the concept of marrying an African-American woman was not on the cards for my dad. But he saw beyond what was put in front of him in that small-sized (and, perhaps, small-minded) town, and he wanted me to see beyond that census placed in front of me. He wanted me to find my own truth.

And I tried. Navigating closed-mindedness to the tune of a dorm mate I met my first week at university who asked if my parents were still together. 'You said your mom is black and your dad is white, right?' she said. I smiled meekly, waiting for what could possibly come out of her pursed lips next. 'And they're divorced?' I nodded. 'Oh, well that makes sense.' To this day, I still don't fully understand what she meant by that, but I understood the implication. And I drew back: I was scared to open this Pandora's box of discrimination, so I sat stifled, swallowing my voice.

I was home in LA on a college break when my mom was called the 'N' word. We were leaving a concert and she wasn't pulling out of a parking space quickly enough for another driver. My skin rushed with heat as I looked to my mom. Her eyes welling with hateful tears, I could only breathe out a whisper of words, so hushed they were barely audible: 'It's OK, Mommy.' I was trying to temper the rage-filled air permeating our small silver Volvo. Los Angeles had been plagued with the racially charged Rodney King and Reginald Denny cases just years before, when riots had flooded our streets, filling the sky with ash that flaked down like apocalyptic snow; I shared my mom's heartache, but I wanted us to be safe. We drove home in deafening silence, her chocolate knuckles pale from gripping the wheel so tightly.

It's either ironic or apropos that in this world of not fitting in, and of harbouring my emotions so tightly under my ethnically nondescript (and not so thick) skin, that I would decide to become an actress. There couldn't possibly be a more label-driven industry than acting, seeing as every audition comes with a character breakdown: 'Beautiful, sassy, Latina, 20s'; 'African American, urban, pretty, early 30s'; 'Caucasian, blonde, modern girl next door'. Every role has a label; every casting is for something specific. But perhaps it is through this craft that I found my voice.

Being 'ethnically ambiguous', as I was pegged in the industry, meant I could audition for virtually any role. Morphing from Latina when I was dressed in red, to African American when in mustard yellow; my closet filled with fashionable frocks to make me look as racially varied as an Eighties Benetton poster. Sadly, it didn't matter: I wasn't black enough for the black roles and I wasn't white enough for the white ones, leaving me somewhere in the middle as the ethnic chameleon who couldn't book a job.

This is precisely why Suits stole my heart. It's the Goldilocks of my acting career – where finally I was just right. The series was initially conceived as a dramedy about a NY law firm flanked by two partners, one of whom navigates this glitzy world with his fraudulent degree. Enter Rachel Zane, one of the female leads and the dream girl – beautiful and confident with an encyclopedic knowledge of the law. 'Dream girl' in Hollywood terms had always been that quintessential blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty – that was the face that launched a thousand ships, not the mixed one. But the show's producers weren't looking for someone mixed, nor someone white or black for that matter. They were simply looking for Rachel. In making a choice like that, the Suits producers helped shift the way pop culture defines beauty. The choices made in these rooms trickle into how viewers see the world, whether they're aware of it or not. Some households may never have had a black person in their house as a guest, or someone biracial. Well, now there are a lot of us on your TV and in your home with you. And with Suits, specifically, you have Rachel Zane. I couldn't be prouder of that.

At the end of season two, the producers went a step further and cast the role of Rachel's father as a dark-skinned African-American man, played by the brilliant Wendell Pierce. I remember the tweets when that first episode of the Zane family aired, they ran the gamut from: 'Why would they make her dad black? She's not black' to 'Ew, she's black? I used to think she was hot.' The latter was blocked and reported. The reaction was unexpected, but speaks of the undercurrent of racism that is so prevalent, especially within America. On the heels of the racial unrest in Ferguson and Baltimore, the tensions that have long been percolating under the surface in the US have boiled over in the most deeply saddening way. And as a biracial woman, I watch in horror as both sides of a culture I define as my own become victims of spin in the media, perpetuating stereotypes and reminding us that the States has perhaps only placed bandages over the problems that have never healed at the root.

I, on the other hand, have healed from the base. While my mixed heritage may have created a grey area surrounding my self-identification, keeping me with a foot on both sides of the fence, I have come to embrace that. To say who I am, to share where I'm from, to voice my pride in being a strong, confident mixed-race woman. That when asked to choose my ethnicity in a questionnaire as in my seventh grade class, or these days to check 'Other', I simply say: 'Sorry, world, this is not Lost and I am not one of The Others. I am enough exactly as I am.'

Just as black and white, when mixed, make grey, in many ways that's what it did to my self-identity: it created a murky area of who I was, a haze around howpeople connected with me. I was grey. And who wants to be this indifferent colour, devoid of depth and stuck in the middle? I certainly didn't. So you make a choice: continue living your life feeling muddled in this abyss of self-misunderstanding, or you find your identity independent of it. You push for colour-blind casting, you draw your own box. You introduce yourself as who you are, not what colour your parents happen to be. You cultivate your life with people who don't lead with ethnic descriptions such as, 'that black guy Tom', but rather friends who say: 'You know? Tom, who works at [blah blah] and dates [fill in the blank] girl.' You create the identity you want for yourself, just as my ancestors did when they were given their freedom. Because in 1865 (which is so shatteringly recent), when slavery was abolished in the United States, former slaves had to choose a name. A surname, to be exact.

Perhaps the closest thing to connecting me to my ever-complex family tree, my longing to know where I come from, and the commonality that links me to my bloodline, is the choice that my great-great-great grandfather made to start anew. He chose the last name Wisdom. He drew his own box.

#meg39 #meghan markle #duchess of sussex #meghan's writing

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svpernatvralis · 4 years ago

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NERISSA MONTEVERDE is a 537 year old cis female fae. people say they have a striking resemblance to fahriye evcen. they work as the owner of royal jelly flowers and are part of the syndicate ( fae right hand ). people say they’re really coquettish, imaginative, & meticulous, but unfortunately also fickle, manipulative, & reticent. why are they in invictus? well, they simply wish to protect their kind.

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! this is my precious bby nerissa who is honestly quite curt sometimes tbh lmao still, she’s got a good heart deep down and is pretty much what you might say away with the fairies 99.9% of the time hsjakgkjf no pun intended tehe. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

name. nerissa angelique monteverde.

age. 537, but appears around 29.

d.o.b. december 17th.

gender. cisgender female.

pronouns. she / her.

orientation. pansexual.

affiliation. the syndicate.

rank. fae right hand.

job. owner of royal jelly flowers.

connections.

birth mother. enya. †

birth father. caliban. †

step-mother. nyx. †

siblings. unknown.

significant other. n/a.

child/ren. n/a.

pet/s. n/a.

proficiencies.

spoken languages. english, turkish, german, italian, french, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. brusque, calculating, distant, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. dedicated, strong-willed, direct, honest, loyal, patient, reliable, enjoys creating order, & excellent organiser.

weaknesses. inflexible, stubborn, judgemental, uncomfortable with unconventional situations, too focused on social status, finds it difficult to relax, & has difficulty expressing emotion.

appearance.

eye colour. hazel.

hair colour. brown / auburn.

height. five feet, eight inches.

weight. 59 kg.

miscellaneous.

zodiac. sagittarius.

element. fire.

house. slytherin.

meyers briggs type. estj-a.

alignment. true neutral.

enneagram. type one.

temperament. choleric.

intelligence type. interpersonal.

background.

NERISSA ANGELIQUE MONTEVERDE — five hundred and thirty-seven, fae, owner of royal jelly flowers, + fae right hand for the syndicate !

possible triggers : adultery, infertility, execution, beheading, murder, death.

tl;dr. alrighty, where do we start with this lil spitfire? she uhhh ... has a lot of issues and is quite distant bc of it. nerissa was the product of an affair between an esteemed fae ( caliban ) and a fire faerie ( enya ). though nerissa never had the chance to meet her birth mother as her step-mother ( nyx ) banished enya shortly after she gave birth. enya’s banishment was a result of the rage nyx held toward her. in part, due to her inability to conceive a child of her own and also due to her anger for her husband’s affair. thus, nerissa grew up under the impression that her biological mother was nyx; neither of her parents divulging the truth behind her parentage. although nerissa was not biologically nyx’s daughter, nyx adored the young fae as if she were her own blood. in truth, nerissa spent more time with her ‘mother’ than with her father. in part, caliban felt the loss of his mistress even though he refused to acknowledge her part in his daughter’s birth. basically, he never had any time for nerissa and excluded her from everything. still, she remained upbeat about it, thinking that one day she'd win his love. she did not. shocker. growing up, life was mostly positive for nerissa. her father’s guards protected her, and his warlock friends aided her with her abilities and taught her the fae ways as well as those of the human beliefs. as the years passed by, nerissa grew stronger and smarter; becoming an adored figure among her fellow fae, yet, in the background, tensions rose between nyx and caliban when their family dynamic became endangered by nyx’s threat of revealing the truth behind nerissa’s heritage. in fear of their secret becoming common knowledge ( and most importantly, ariela finding out ), caliban ordered for his wife to be executed for ‘treason.’ of course, nerissa tried to protest this due to her love for the woman she believed to be her mother but her attempts to prevent her father’s ruling were futile. days later, nyx was publicly beheaded by one of caliban’s most loyal guards. this act served to place a wedge further between nerissa and her father and as the years ticked by, until his untimely demise which was when nerissa left her home behind. soon after, she joined the syndicate where she now sits as the right hand for the fae. to this day, she remains unaware of her true parentage and continues to struggle with the haunting nightmares of her childhood. so yah, nerissa had a pretty rough childhood but she's bounced back. well, about as much as you'd expect from someone who grew up feeling unwanted and unloved. really, she just always tries her best and is a perfectionist and wants to protect her kind.

random extras.

her signature scent is chanel N°5.

she’s fearless af. throwback to her upbringing, most likely.

she’s all sweet smiles and charming words until her expression turns sharp and deadly. it’s her tactic to entice then pounce, if you will.

she loves to surprise people. most assume she’s a pretty girl but oh, she loves the look of shock on their faces when she unleashes her inner bish.

in a way, her words are like her weaponry.

an angel of vengeance in a pair of designer sunglasses tbh.

owns waaay too many pairs of heels.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

often wears suits and totally rocks them.

when it comes to whether or not she is morally decent or an extremely bad person, she is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum—she isn’t heartless but she isn’t compassionate either.

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be pretty deadly if you piss her off enough.

is truly an independent woman who don’t need no man.

loyalty means a lot to her. if you betray her trust, then she’ll freeze you out.

while she’s a major ice queen on the outside, she has the potential to melt with the right people.

may seem like she has a superiority complex and acts as if she’s better than you, but it’s just because she knows her worth and her value.

she knows her strengths and isn’t afraid to assert them.

she’s v confident. not in a cocky way, but she is definitely self-assured in her looks and abilities.

avoids violence when possible.

prefers blackmail and taking advantage of people’s pressure points.

she’s her own biggest fan tbh.

#invictusintro #aloha!#this took me forever dsjhdjs #but pls hmu for plots etc : )

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whoishisaribi · 5 years ago

Text

Neon witch

@stetermonthlyprompts July 2019, witch

Work Title: Neon witch

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Slash, gen

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski; Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Peter Hale; Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Witch Stiles Stilinski, Dream Sex, Ambiguous Slash, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Lawyer Peter Hale, The Steter Network Monthly Prompts

Language: English

Words: 2573

Summary: The neon lighting and the darkness of the night made a lot of things apparent. There was something disturbingly wrong with Sheriff's son.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773526

The neon lighting and the darkness of the night made a lot of things apparent. It may seem weird for some people because one may think only the light of the sun on a clear day could expose evil and wrongness. Unfortunately, it left way too much of halftones to see clearly.

It was bright blue and pink lighting of this rundown ‘motel California’ signboard, that really made Peter pause that one time. He was up for some kinky sex with Corinne, she felt dangerous, edgy, just the person Peter wanted at his seventeen. But in that lighting she felt just outright monstrous, so Peter stepped back and run.

He wasn't the one to be scared of the danger, but his guts told him, he might not survive the consequences of that one night.

Next time it was a bar almost on the edge of Beacon Hills, it had neon lighting inside. It tried to fit some sort of eighteenth feeling, even though this hole of the town would do great with anything. Peter was here with his friends when he overheard some blonde woman talking to completely drunk Harris. This idiot was happily telling all the things you shouldn't really use the chemistry for if you didn’t want to end up in jail.

The woman was outright murderous and psychopathic in this green and blue light. So Peter did his research and it prevented his family from being burnt alive by Kate Argent.

This time it happened in the middle of the town. There was this diner, right in front of the administration. For whatever reason, its name was misspelled as 'dinner', and both 'n' and 'r' always stopped working at some point. So the red lighting coming off the signboard hugged rare silhouettes with the burning intensity.

Neon lighting didn't leave any halftones. There were only red light and the darkness of the night. Everything became eerie and lucid.

There was something disturbingly wrong with Sheriff's son, Peter couldn’t put a name on before. The guy stood still, even though he was all motion and flailing in the day. His eyes seemed to be pitch black, they didn't even reflect the light. Like he was dead.

The worst thing was that he looked directly at Peter, and his gaze seemed just empty. It was kind of ironic, that Peter worked with sheriff department and criminals and never felt anything akin to anxiety next to them, but the kid in the bright hoodie gave him chills.

He was the prey in the middle of the empty main street, and nobody would rescue him.

The door to the diner opened, some clumsy teen looked at Stiles and asked what took him so long. Even the small amount of more natural lighting brought halftones back, and so Stiles once again became the usual – the lanky young adult just off the college with a lot of movement and the loud voice. He went inside, and his lively voice drowned in the music.

Peter felt like he could finally breathe again.

Even though the air felt way too cold and wet. The mist would hug the town in less than an hour, and Peter preferred to be back home by that time.

He would close all windows, shutters, and doors. Maybe, he would drink, just to forget the emptiness he felt.

The lack of something scared him more than the presence of anything concrete. He didn’t have clearance on the topic of how Stiles could be dangerous to him, his pack or the city, but there was something. Something they could possibly not survive this time.

Neon lighting never lied.

***

Night dreams were cold and filthy. It was full of neon. The lithe male body on top of Peter, moving with the broken music. It sounded from everywhere outside the room, humming noise with something else. Peter couldn’t listen to it for too long, it hurt his ears.

Slim fingers creased along his chest, down and down. They left black goo and Peter couldn’t see the face of a guy. Neon lighting from the window and half-open door didn’t show anything certain. Maybe he didn’t have a face at all. Just a formless mass, dripping down his shoulders and chest.

But it never felt so good with anyone else in his life.

Peter woke up in a cold sweat on a spine and wet pants. He was too old for these.

***

Whatever supernatural Stiles had, he definitely got it from Stilinskis bloodline. Peter wasn’t sure what exactly – the umbrella term for all creatures like him was ‘supernatural humans’. Witches, voids, banshees, druids, et alii, sometimes boundaries between one another were too blurry to distinguish.

Sheriff Stilinski didn’t really smell of anything, but something told Peter – he was just old and knew how to hide marks. Stiles’s scent was of magic and nothingness. It seemed to be mutually exclusive, and somehow it fit what Peter saw in neon lighting along with what he saw in the daylight.

“Mr. Hale,” the voice made him stop on his track when he almost left the sheriff station.

It was late evening, so the darkness outside hugged streets. It seemed like even lights were a bit dimmed, like the world outside the station didn’t exist. It felt like something was coming, and this time it would be hard to save his skin.

Stiles called him, that shouldn’t be surprising. He leant over the reception desk. Deputy Parrish, who was supposed to sit here, was absent for whatever reason. Peter had a feeling, it was somehow staged.

“Stiles,” Peter said and smiled. He seemed completely normal in the light of a lamp, maybe a bit pale. Plaid shirt made him a bit off in this place. Eyes still too dark for the comfort. “Do you need anything, or just want to be the delight in my otherwise deadly boring day?”

Stiles huffed and tapped his fingers on the reception desk. Uneven rhythm sent chills down Peter’s spine. “Flattery won’t get you far, wolf.”

Ah, right, that’s what Stiles saw in the neon light. Or maybe it was this perceptiveness that he showed a lot, just with the supernatural knowledge. Peter only smiled.

“Well, then,” once over. Stiles didn’t pose a threat, but the scent was too ambiguous to get right, “not becoming the delight of the day, that’s a shame. You are finally not a minor anymore, and only want to talk business, aren’t you?”

“I doubt I’ll ever become the delight of anyone’s life.” He was serious and his heart didn’t miss a beat. Ouch. “But you are right, I’m an adult now, and so I’ll deal with my coven’s problems from now on.”

Coven. Of course, supernatural humans tended to stuck together at some point in their life, like packs. But they had it easier, it happened naturally, they just gravitated toward each other. They weren’t territorial like werewolf packs were, easily let people in and let them go. They probably had some sort of an alpha, and now Stiles became the one.

“Do you want to meet my alpha?”

He probably already knew it was Talia. So Peter wondered why he came to him.

“That’s useless, your emissary,” the amount of bitterness in Stiles’ voice was astonishing, “won’t allow us to do anything. I came to propose a deal. We kill both him and your alpha, you become one, and we take care of the clusterfuck they left behind.”

Peter had amazing self-control, so his face didn’t even flinch. They were under the cameras, so it must be staged. Peter didn’t know if this one had the sound, probably, it didn’t. The light flickered, and Peter got a glimpse of that person, he saw in the neon lighting. Cold, calculating and a bit amused.

“Aren’t you too cocky to talk murders in sheriff station?”

“You didn’t answer,” he shrugged. “I’ll find you tomorrow, you just need to decide.” Stiles took the manila folder laid on the reception desk and gave it to Peter. “There is an answer to why we want to do it. We may just take the Hale alpha spark and give it back to the void.”

Coven, but not a witch coven. That’s interesting. Though, Peter didn’t really know a lot about witches. He also needed to research this void thing. There was a rumor, some supernaturals believed all magic came from nothingness and would go there again. He took the folder and waved it. It felt heavy but didn’t smell of any magic.

“Aren’t you afraid I tell my alpha?”

Stiles made this ridiculous thing with his face and body, either asking ‘will you’, ‘go for it’ and ‘do I look sane enough to be afraid of something like that’. Deputy Parrish came back and Stiles began talking to him, obviously fond of him.

Peter came to his car and looked through the folder. On the surface level, it was neatly organized – obviously not what Stiles would do, he seemed to be too messy – divided by date and severity of Hale pack misdoings. It also had a few paragraphs on why they are willing to leave alpha spark in the Hale bloodline and also how they are planning to make everything work once it’s over. The last page was more interesting. It was certainly signed by Stiles with some message like ‘still wanna expose us to your alpha?’ and a freaking smiley face.

Peter rolled his eyes and ignited the car. He would read at home. Somewhere, where it wasn’t that dark.

***

Dreams were bright. Neon lighting was everywhere. That night it didn’t just come from the window or the door, it just was. At the same time, there was the darkness that couldn’t let go of the room’s corners. It was some run-down motel, too low for current Peter’s standards.

The sound. Stiles tapped this rhythm earlier.

The guy sat on his knees in front of him, licking and sucking him. This time the lithe body also had a lower part of his face. Cupid bow lips and moles.

Peter blinked, and when he looked up, the black goo was flowing down the walls, resonating with his bones. Something was very wrong, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

Once again, he woke up in a cold sweat and wet pants. The open manila folder was on the bed next to him.

***

Stiles did find him the very next morning. The coffee-shop next to the court, where Peter usually bought his coffee. Now he was pretty sure Theo, the usual barista, was some sort of supernatural human.

“So, what’s your decision?” Stiles sat next to Peter, lulling the cup.

“Not even a good morning?” Just to tease.

“Good morning. What did you decide?” He seemed sleepy and groggy. Well, he was what, twenty-one? And so not the morning person. It seemed amusing how the lack of darkness and neon along with a soft light changed him.

“Why act now?”

Stiles didn’t answer for some time, thoughtfully looking ahead. The morning was misty and grey, the lighting inside almost nonexistent as well. Dimmed would be the right word.

“When my father moved here, he couldn’t find or create a coven, because of how your emissary acted. Every nemeton needs a healthy supernatural society. Werewolf pack and righteous druid aren’t enough to sustain it.”

“That’s what you or whoever wrote in the folder.”

“And that’s the only reason we have,” Stiles huffed and waved his hands.

“Why now, Stiles.”

“And why not?” He half-smiled.

“Right,” Peter shook his head and took a sip. “The pack wouldn’t be happy, though.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Stiles tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Cora, who practically run away as soon as she could? Or Derek, who just wanted to date this darach girl? All other pack-members, who run away? Do I need to remind you of the Paige situation?”

Well, the coven did their homework. Peter watched over Stiles, also not leaving his eyes from Theo who leaned toward red hair girl about their age. She gave off the vibe of a person, who wasn’t exactly human as well.

“In court, you are more self-confident, Mr. Hale.”

“That’s not the lack of my ego that makes me reluctant to say yes right away, Stiles.” Now that he thought of it, he had no idea what’s his real name was. “But more like my self-preservation instincts.”

“Do you still believe the alpha who messed with your memory?”

And yet, Stiles somehow made his way in Peter’s dream. They were too short sequences, but looking at his moles and lips now Peter became quite sure. Probably because the memory of those lips on him was too fresh.

The redhead girl started tapping the same rhythm he heard in dreams. Certainly one of the coven. Peter wondered how many supernatural humans he missed out. And how did they affect him to get their way.

“We are against the idea of emissaries, by the way,” Stiles said. “Whatever the pack does, that’s only their business. We will provide any necessary information, though.”

Deaton certainly was an eyesore. He changed Talia, and also affected Laura. Peter also knew the coven couldn’t just remove him, and leave the vacant place.

“Do you plan to hurt Laura?” She was too much of mother’s daughter to let it go so easily. She would fight, and probably would try and hurt Peter for the alpha spark.

“Only if she attacks us. If she attacks you – she’s your problem. But I doubt she will.” Stiles sounded way too sure. Peter wondered if that had something to do with Deputy Parrish scent on her lately. Maybe he also was the part of a coven.

“Deal.”

Stiles smiled coldly. “You won’t regret it. You also won’t have to do anything, we’ll take care of it.”

“Sounds too good to be true.”

Stiles didn’t answer and went directly to the redhead. Peter finally put down what she was: a banshee. And Theo smelled somehow like a wolf, but not a werewolf. Warlock, probably. Peter would have to do his own homework eventually and learn just how many supernatural humans lived in Beacon Hills.

***

This was the first dream they weren’t in the room. Peter laid on the great stump. The Nemeton. The song was humming with power and danger. The rhythm was resonating in the core of Peter’s being.

This time he saw Stiles’ face clearly. He was on top of them, naked, black veins and red marks. His mouth was half-open, fingers slowly making its way down his cheeks, neck, and torso. The neon halo of the red moon seemed to circle around his head.

They weren’t alone. About a dozen people were around. Naked. Both old and young. Faces – a mere black mass that was waiving like they were underwater. Trees a few steps behind colored in red and covered in black human figures were muddy, barely there.

Peter raised his hand and tried to touch Stiles. For the first time in a very long time, he had a chance to move before he woke up. Slim and bloody fingers intertwined his own.

Stiles looked at him, and his eyes reflected the neon circle, that was supposed to be behind his head, high in the sky.

Neon lighting never lied. And Stiles held neon lighting inside.

Peter woke up alone, wet and cold. He knew his eyes burned red.

#Steter #Peter Hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #fanfiction

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