#please ignore me and the awful things that come out of my brain XD

[makeyoumine69]

Omg I wrote an ask but then my app crashed, I’m not sure if it sent ☠️ um. Okay if you got this ask already, please feel free to ignore this… lets see if I can remember what I wrote hahaha rip

Like the recent anon you got, I may also need some reassurance about something. What do you do if you really like a character, but then they do something highly triggering, and then it changes your entire perspective of them? And yet, you still want to be with them? I just watched AP a week ago and I was starting to hyperfixate on it. I really like Patrick a lot, probably the first time I’ve ever shipped with a villain who is THIS ruthless, and I’d see him murder ppl on screen and I’d think “oh teehee he wouldn’t hurt my OC though :)” sjfhkshdjg it also helps that I skipped almost all of the murder scenes except the Paul one (my friend who LOVES this movie watched it with me, told me to look away while they fast forwarded through the scary parts) I really cannot handle horror at all, but I wanted to try seeing this movie because I love Christian Bale. So I suppose you can say I technically only watched 30 minutes of this movie XD

I was having a real good time coming up with fluffy stories for my OC and Patrick for a full week now. But then I foolishly watched the deleted scenes yesterday without asking my friend to check the video to see if it had any triggering content… and I liked the scenes very much, except the one with Courtney. That scared the shit out of me. I have had a personal experience of being sexually assaulted and hit in the bedroom without consent, so seeing Patrick kind of yank Courtney around and yell at her, and roughly pull out, hurting her, it definitely triggered me and I was stress vomiting afterwards for a few hours. And today I woke up and I still cannot stop thinking about it. I felt really, really good with Patrick up until I watched that yesterday, and I am so shaky and nauseous just remembering it. It just keeps replaying in my head, despite me trying to stop thinking about it. I believe the director commented that they deleted that scene and replaced it instead with the scene where Patrick and Courtney are simply talking after they had slept together, where she’s just feeling depressed and saying “if you don’t call before Easter, have a nice one” or something like that, I am paraphrasing. But it didn’t imply any violence had occurred beforehand, at least I really hope not

I know Patrick is awful. I know he’s horrible. I know he is the worst, I did this to myself by liking him in the first place. I feel very stupid when I vent about this to my friends, they’re like “well… just don’t ship your OC with him if it bothers you. He’s literally a serial killer, it shouldn’t surprise you that he would also hurt women sexually. Just stop thinking about it.” but it doesn’t feel that simple, I can’t just… stop, you know? I spent an entire week *obsessing* over this character. I got serotonin out of this, it was a habit to think of him; my brain cannot simply just say “oh whatever I’ll drop him then, move on to something else”. I have absolutely tried distracting myself with other interests in the last 24 hours. I have watched other movies that aren’t scary, I have looked at different characters from romantic comedies that don’t involve murder, I have binged SpongeBob episodes lmao, but my brain is very much attached to Bateman. I want to feel comfortable with him, I like him. I wanted to ship my OC with him very badly, and I still do! I know he’s fictional, I shouldn’t be overthinking this, but I feel so shaky and unsafe when I think about him now. I feel heartbroken like I’m going through a breakup, as silly as that sounds, because I have been really looking forward to making this character someone fun to write about. I keep reminding myself it was just a deleted scene, he didn’t really hurt Courtney in bed, but god… it was jarring to see it happening regardless. I know he does these things in the book, I know he’s despicable, but I really wanted to hope that movie!patrick could be someone I could potentially try testing the waters with. Like the anon you answered recently, I have also had a poor experience shipping with villains and I am trying to reclaim that for myself. It feels scary knowing he has the potential to be physically or sexually abusive, when I am trying to practice the whole “I am the exception with villains” thing. I’m so sorry, I am writing so much omg I promise I’m almost done

So I guess I’m just asking for you to lie to me and say he’d be gentle with people in the bedroom, or that he wouldn’t bother hitting somebody or hurting them because it doesn’t bring him satisfaction...? Or even just… he didn’t hurt Courtney… *wouldn’t* hurt Courtney. Or Evelyn. Or Jean. Or whomever else. Like, if he’s ruthless, I’d rather he just murder people, not assault them, does that make sense? Oh my god I know that sounds completely out of character but I need somebody who knows him very well to try to reassure me, if you were okay with that of course. You’ve been writing him for a long time so I think you’d know him best and i know if anyone can convince me that Patrick has a gentle side to him, it would be you. And if anybody else wanted to write reassurances in the replies as well, by all means, I need all the help I can get lol. If you wanted to respond to this, of course. Please don’t feel pressured to respond if you don’t want to! Forgive me for sending such a lengthy ask. I feel very silly. Have a lovely day, I very much enjoy your blog btw you seem like a very kindhearted person :) sending you hugs. Again, please don’t worry about responding if you don’t wish to.

Hello dear!

Jesus, it's such an honor to hear people say that I know Patrick very well, it literally makes me cry! 😭

I would tell you this - when it comes to having crushes and just interacting with different characters, we all have our own visions of them. Speaking for myself, as much as I try to write Patrick canonically, I don't really write any gore or him committing murders because my psyche blocks those aspects of his personality, but I don't judge people who write him really violent and brutal - that's just not my cup of tea. I can't say that I tried to find some good traits in his personality, no, I just accepted the fact that I fell in love with a narcistic, arrogant man who has mental problems and loves to manipulate people. All those "I can fix him" things never worked for me and I never really tried to imagine him changing in a good way for me. Actually, I just let him live rent free in my head, and as for the way I write him - sometimes I feel like I want to write him being gentle and loving - I really have a thing for sweet and affectionate Patty, sometimes (most of the time lmao) I'm into some really angsty shit, so probably most people don't like my writing because in my stories Patrick appears to be a dickhead and a total bastard. But like I said, we all look at characters from our own perspective and we have the right to imagine our crushes the way we want them to be. After all, only Bret Ellis can present Patrick's character the way he is supposed to be, since Ellis created him.

Speaking of the deleted scene with Courtney, it was a little different in the book, but yeah, I wouldn't recommend reading the book because it's much more triggering and disturbing than the movie. Honestly, when I read the book for the first time, I had a big breakdown because I felt disgusted by the things Patrick did in the novel and Bret did a great job of making Bateman a real monster, so I can say that the movie version of Patrick is less off-putting. Even now I try to avoid reading the book too often because some chapters make me really depressed. But I can confess that I'm one of those people who believe in the theory that Bateman didn't commit all those murders and that they were all in his head. In Lunar Park, Bret Ellis' other book, he hinted that all the murders were actually not real. So I can recommend you to read this book because it has a lot of interesting facts about Patrick Bateman as a character from the novel.

I hope I made you feel a little bit better, and my DM is always open to talk! Thanks for sharing this with me! 💕💕💕

*sending my love and hugs!*

[reliquiicis-a]

What’s a good way to start talking to you if people are scared to? Does knowing the other mun make writing threads easier or harder? How much anxious internal screaming goes on with you on a regular basis?

ooc — I don't know if any of this is going to make sense because for some reason my brain is still asleep, but here we go:

(under the cut because it got long...)

If people are afraid to talk to me, they could easily just either initiate a conversation by liking or commenting on a post of mine whether it be me gushing about something I'm watching, reading, or playing or a starter/inbox call. That will usually get me coming to your blog or messaging you in tumblr ims. Or if you do better making a post instead of coming to me - which I feel that on a spiritual level XD - then by all means. looks at Gem who straight up just made a post about wanting to like the inbox calls she kept seeing on the dash... But all in all, please don't be afraid to approach me, I promise I don't bite and if I do, that's a good sign that I like you.

I think for me, it all depends. When it comes to shipping and smut, I find it easier if I know at least a little about the other so I can either feel comfortable enough to go to them to be like "hey, this is what I want to do, but I'm not sure if you'd be okay with it" or feel comfortable enough to know that if something happens between our characters and they argue that I can be like "okay, this is in character and my muse is overstepping boundaries, but the mun isn't like that" like as long as I have at least shared a few messages with the other mun and we both have an understanding that hey, if we don't like the way the thread is going, we can talk about it. But I think most of that stems from making friends with my writing partners. I can write without talking to someone out of character, but it's more fun if there's conversation outside of it and there's obviously less worry and confusion there. Even if we don't talk ooc and there's a problem with how my character is or how the thread is going, please don't hesitate to bring it to my attention. If I'm doing something wrong, LET ME KNOW. Educate me or help me to understand how "hey this thing you said or did is not okay and here's why". Don't just move on and ignore it. I don't intentionally hurt people and I feel awful when I do, but I absolutely feel worse when I've been hurting someone and they keep quiet for months without telling me. Like, please talk to me and tell me what I'm doing wrong when you see it.

Ah, anxious internal screaming. My favorite pastime! Honestly, a lot. I would say at least once a day, maybe more. It usually comes with the territory of seeing people on my dash I want to interact with and don't know how to approach. looks at a lot of you. It even happens with people I've talked to ooc and written with in the past. It also happens ic, too. We're all just a mess over here.

[fortune-maiden]

Well that was quite the cliffhanger to end on!

Season 1 of El Internado is done! :D

It’s a fun show with some great characters and intriguing mystery even if it kinda throws everything and the kitchen sink at you at once and apparently takes place over a week? I’m choosing to ignore that and pretend it’s a month.

The show effectively follows three groups: the teachers, the teens, and the 5 year olds, the latter of whom are objectively the best characters and deserve the world. I love Paula & Evelyn and their friendship and innocent 5 year old view of the world, and how caring the adults around them are. Amelia really does seem like a great teacher, and just the way Jacinta and others all melt when it comes to the kids and cheering them up and going along with their games. They are so good even if Paula’s friendship with Gnome gives me many heart attacks because we know nothing about him.

But if Jacinta knows about him and isn’t hostile to him, I can believe he’s a good guy! He also saved Paula from the “Taxi Driver” and that’s the most important thing. That “Taxi” scene still haunts me.

Speaking of Jacinta, the trio of Jacinta, Maria, and Fermin is my favorite trio! I love all of their interactions and and relationships, and how much Jacinta & Fermin try to help Maria. Maria deserves the world.

Hector’s a pretty cool dude too, even if he really needs to get his personal life sorted out. Elsa’s a cheater so I’m definitely not rooting for this relationship but I do still feel a little bad for her and at the very least I don’t think she’s evil evil. Just an awful person but one who takes her job seriously. Given what I’ve heard about this show, I can’t discount that.

Pedro sucks though. No sympathy for him at all. Please run Amelia.

And Camilo................................................ I trust him as far as I can throw him right now. The teenagers should too if someone can find the brain cell among them.

And speaking of the teens... they are probably the weakest part of the show tbh. Not in terms of plot - the mystery is great and intriguing and I do like how active they are in finding answers rather than waiting for the plot to come to them. But as characters?

Marcos & Ivan are really the only ones with any depth and development, and a lot of that comes out with their interactions with more interesting characters outside of the friend group. Ivan’s two friends are just kinda there, and while it’s great the Carol and Vicky and so active in finding their missing teacher and largely moving things forward.... who are they and why should we care again?

Vicky seemed to be set up as the student with the closest relationship to Alfonso so it was weird that Carol ended up as the one most determined to solve the mystery. And while her determination is admirable... Carol herself kinda sucks.

We barely know anything about her. Why is she so obsessed with solving this mystery? What was her relationship with Alfonso? Why are her friends following her... why are they all even friends? This goes for the group in general. We get a lot of great scenes of Paula & Evelyn, and the adults and their social lives but we barely get anything for the teens. They’re a friend group because the show says they are and we never really get any fun, sweet moments between them.

I feel like the show would have been stronger if all the kids got sucked into the mystery for their own reasons like Marcos and grew closer together rather than starting off as an alleged friend group.

Also Carol’s actress is..... not good as whispering. Everyone is bad at this but I feel it’s especially bad with her. The sheer number of times a scene really looks like it should have the characters whispering between each other but instead has them talking at normal volume (or loud in Carol’s case) is laughable. How have the adults not caught on to what they’re doing yet? They talk about it out in the open! xD

Also...how is this school’s security so bad (beyond Hector refusing to hire a private firm) Kids are getting lost in the woods every night apparently - the woods that are repeatedly said to be dangerous and off-limits, yet the 5 year olds have regular field trips there, doors are never locked and the one time they are it’s used for attempted murder. And somehow Gnome is able to sneak into the school pretty regularly to see Paula and never gets caught.

Hector.... please get your school and your life in order. You may choose the order.

[dzpenumbra]

12/10/22

I'm still eating food, I've been grazing for like 2-3 hours now. I guess. I have such little perception of time, I swear. Hard to gauge because cooking took a long time. I made buffalo chicken crunchwraps, and good lord was it worth the effort!

Today was a much better day. Super productive, high energy. I got the meds for my cat sorted, we have them now, she gets them with her food at 11PM tomorrow. I am putting a notification in my phone now. I did it! I did the normal adult thing! Yay.

I decided to get groceries while I was out. I had to piss real bad the whole time, so it was pretty stressful, but I got it done. $200 for 3 bags of groceries. Like... what the fuck. Like... I'm not even buying meat anymore and this shit is just ridiculously expensive. Please tell me I'm not the only one noticing this. In my "I am barely functioning mid-20's" I was living off of like... frozen meals, energy drinks and gatorade and shit, and I could get like 3-4 bags full of that for like... less than $150. The shit I'm getting now is way cheaper, cooking it all myself, and it's more expensive. Dark times, man.

Anyway, I got home, threw some laundry in - it's super easy and the laundry is like... right below my place, so really conveniently located too. I had like an almost 3 hour conversation with my mom. A really good one. I legit had no idea how long the conversation went on for, I was planning a short one just to check in. We talked Christmas gifts, catching her up on the vet drama, and... my impostor syndrome. My struggle with accepting that I have ADHD. Which, coincidentally, happened to come at the same exact time as my struggle to accept that it's possible for me to be a successful professional artist. And that I even have artistic talent. What a fucking coincidence, huh? Probably just random chance, I'd bet. XD

She helped reassure me, and we talked through the implications, pros and cons of all outcomes. It really helped, I mean that. Just having another perspective on it, and one that has logged a ton of hours around my brain is just... invaluable, honestly. I'm sure any artist reading this could relate, when you work on a super detailed piece for like 30+ hours and even after stepping away and coming back... you still see every little mistake and it doesn't... awe you. Not the way someone else's piece would. But when you see the genuine reaction of someone seeing it for the first time and their jaw hits the floor... Yeah, dude. That can help pull those jaded blinders down a bit. Now take that experience and apply it to... your personality, the way you think, the way you experience life. That's a really tough one to like... get perspective on, especially when you've dedicated a big chunk of your life to trying to "play the game" and fit in. To not draw attention. To be "normal". To function by standards expected of you.

There are a few reasons I've been pushing back against this ADHD thing.

1) I have been misdiagnosed before - with epilepsy. I took it very seriously. I went through tons of med trials. I joined the Epilepsy Foundation. I wore a medical alert necklace every day. I did a 48 hour EEG with an electrode cap that I wore the whole time. Like, I remember vividly standing on my porch smoking cigarettes with gauze wrapped around my head, must've freaked out the neighbors. It was very shameful, very embarrassing, humiliating. And I still feel, even though it was completely naïve and not even my fault, like my actions were like... offensive to people who actually have epilepsy. Even in my ignorance. Yeah, I'm hard on myself, but like 5 years later I still feel that way. And I don't want to do that again.

2) I don't want to feel like I'm looking for an excuse to get me out of responsibilities in life. I have been treated this way constantly. Like I'm lazy or "not motivated" or slow, or dumb, or something. Mostly lazy though. Like "what the fuck, clean your dishes", "just clean your house, you'll feel much better". "Get a job." "Successful people make their bed in the morning." Shit like that. I'm adopting the suspicion of bitter people who hate their lives, people I haven't spoken to in years, and weaponizing that suspicion against myself as a way of talking myself out of a diagnosis I have confirmed at least 3 times. At different stages of my life, too. For fuck's sake, I even got a brain scan that confirmed this. But nope, enough people drilled this into my head at extremely vulnerable times... so... I must be actually lazy. And I must be so desperate to stay lazy and to cheat at life that I'm going to dig up a 20 year old diagnosis and point at it and go "look, look, this means it's okay for dishes to be difficult for me". Again, this overlaps with the impostor thing, because I am saying that. I am saying that dishes are significantly harder for me than neurotypical people, especially consistently doing dishes and staying ahead of them. The only catch here is whether the reason is because of ADHD, and for some reason... I feel like I need a more concrete or more recent diagnosis to really claim that.

I'm sure there are more reasons, but I feel like I'm just ranting and bitching and I'm actually getting bored of hearing myself complain about this. XD

I have been waiting all day to fire up a game of Rimworld, since like 2 days ago, actually. Because I've had so much going on that I haven't had any time to like... chill and unwind until after midnight. Guess what? It's after midnight. -_- Do I unwind with a game for a bit? (which will likely turn into 4AM really quick) Or do I start getting ready for bed?

Gonna say fuck it and roll the dice tonight, see what chance has in store for me.

[citrus-cactus]

Wallace Appreciation, Day 3

Prompt: Return

Not what I had originally intended to post today… but @shihalyfie made a comment about Wallace and Menoa yesterday that I could NOT stop thinking about, so here is a hastily-written & edited fic which I am super rusty at producing in general orz

Title: Tithonus in the Arms of Rosy-Fingered Dawn

Summary: Takes place just before the events of Last Evolution Kizuna. Wallace bonds wi— is seduced by Menoa Bellucci, earning him a one way, all-expenses-paid trip to Neverland.

Length: ~1200 words

Warnings: Kizuna spoilers, vague acts of passion between two consenting adults.

Rating: T (just to be safe)

A/N: I honestly need to rewatch Kizuna and finish the novel, so I might end up revisiting this to make minor word adjustments or larger changes if I find I accidentally contradicted canon :P

"Dr. Bellucci, are you trying to seduce me?" Wallace asked, raising an eyebrow in equal amounts of intrigue and amusement at the older woman sitting across the table from him.

"I'd prefer it if you just called me Menoa," she said. "And what if I were?" Her tone was as casual as if she had just commented on the weather, but her eyes were gleaming, even mirthful, he noted, and fixed steadily on his. "What would you do about it?"

Wallace considered this for a moment. It had been a strange couple of days already: a phone handed to him by the concierge, an appointment made, a morning spent in the name of digimon research with a gorgeous college professor and her stone-faced colleague, followed by an afternoon of casual conversation and a late lunch at the beachfront restaurant that had now nearly taken them into the evening. Menoa Bellucci was like no academic he had ever met: smart, of course, but also young, passionate, witty—and most of all, interested in him. The two of them had a surprising number of things in common... not to mention, he'd always had a thing for redheads.

"If I'm being honest," he said, keeping his tone light and trying to match the glint in her eyes with one of his own, "I'd let you. Being seduced by a beautiful woman is not something I mind in the slightest."

Menoa took a long draw of the sunset-colored drink in front of her, her lips wrapped around the brightly-colored straw. Wallace's hand tightened unconsciously around his own virgin cocktail, the condensation on the glass already saturating the flimsy cardboard coaster beneath it.

"Your, um… boyfriend. He doesn't mind, though?" he asked.

She laughed at this, a melodic, ringing sound that somehow reminded him of a windchime. "Kyotaro? He's my assistant, nothing more. I'm sure he's locked up in his room already, processing the data we collected on your partners. I wouldn't worry about him."

"Just making sure." He chanced a look down at the beach, where he knew Chocomon and Gummymon were napping peacefully beneath the arching palm trees, still worn out from the morning's interview and subsequent data collection.

"You're sure you're comfortable leaving them out there?" Menoa asked, as if she could tell what he was thinking.

He waved away her concern, grinning as if he wasn't starting to become unnerved by the increasing intensity of her stare. "It's fine. The hotel staff all know me, and the guests never seem to notice things like digimon dozing in beach chairs. They've all seen a dozen stranger things before breakfast. That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye."

"I see." She removed the butterfly-shaped tie from her braid and shook out her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders and back, a firey, flaming red against the navy blue of her swimsuit. In one smooth movement she stood, clasped his hand in hers, and pulled him to his feet.

"You have very pretty hair, Menoa," he said. He knew it sounded childish, but he couldn’t help himself—not around her, it seemed.

She considered him for a moment. “Not the most original line I've ever heard,” she said with a smirk. “But I can see how it would be effective. I’ll bet you’ve used it on everyone you’ve been interested in since you were eleven.”

He chuckled, still impressed by her no-nonsense honesty. "Maybe."

***

The edge of the sun was still visible over the horizon, turning the sea to indigo and painting the sky in broad strokes of orange and yellow. Wallace and Menoa walked side-by-side on the beach, his hand hovering near the small of her back, following wherever she might lead. He was oblivious to where she might be taking him, but as the crowds of beachgoers became more and more sparse it became obvious she was looking for someplace a little more private. His heart began to flutter like a butterfly in his chest.

"Aspens," she murmured suddenly.

"Pardon?"

Her head was turned away from him out to sea, the halo of her hair illuminated in brilliant gold. "Sorry. Don't ask me why, but seeing the ocean always makes me miss the mountains. The aspens in particular." She turned, and now he could see her face in profile, her jawline set in a harder line he'd seen at any other point during the day. "Did you know that a stand of aspen trees are considered a single organism? Each tree is the offshoot of a rhiziomatic root structure, essentially a clone of those around it."

"I... guess I didn't know that," he shrugged. "I just thought they were pretty."

"That's why aspen forests all change color together... why they often die together. All of them are the children of that single shared root, linked together underground. They share the exact same strengths, and the exact same weaknesses." She turned to face him then, her tone still serious. "You're sure you don't have any more contact information for human-digimon pairs you've met over the years? Anyone from childhood you've kept in touch with?"

He shook his head, puzzled at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I'm... sorry, I already told you everything I know. You already had the information on Mimi and Daisuke. I don't keep in touch with many people, much less people with digimon."

Her shoulders twitched in a sort of shrug and she gave him an enigmatic half-smile, but she seemed to return to herself after that. "It really is a pity." He could feel her fingers trace up the fabric of his shirt, her arms envelop his shoulders, her hands caress the nape of his neck through his hair as she leaned in ever closer. His eyes were drawn inexorably to her lips, until they eclipsed even the fading light of the sun. She tasted like sea spray, peaches, and vodka, mixed with something odd and sharply metallic.

"Wallace," he heard her whisper close to his ear, "Would you say I'm beautiful?"

"Of course."

"Would you say I'm a goddess?"

"Absolutely."

He felt her lips carve a smile in the hollow of his cheek. "Good." He heard the percussive snap of her fingers, and suddenly everything became blurred by a howl of rushing wind. He hadn't even had time to cry out before his knees hit the sand. The last thing he remembered was what had sounded like the crinkling of a thousand sheets of paper-thin metal, and a child's laugh echoing in his mind, as sharp and thin as a razor cutting through glass.

Menoa brushed a few grains of sand from her arms and readjusted the sarong around her waist. It hadn't been the ideal extraction, but at least it had been amusing in its way, while it lasted. Boys like this one really did all think alike, and now there were three more errant lambs saved, getting a new lease on life as members of her flock. She glanced around to make sure the noise hadn't attracted any undue attention, smiling in spite of herself. Despite the lack of any new leads she had been able to glean from him, she had accomplished everything she had set out to do today. Someone would find his consciousness-robbed body in the morning, at which point she and Kyotaro would already be on their way to Tokyo, Kyotaro none the wiser. And in the meantime, she would make her way back to the hotel, maybe treat herself to a bath or late-night swim.

At least her target had been right about one thing.

That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye.

~Fin.

[chibiwritesstuff]

Could you do a headcanon for how the dorm leaders and their S/O would react if their kid(s) from the future magically appeared on campus?

I might have gone overboard with this... but at the same time, I feel like I rushed this. I’m so occupied by work that I have to slowly work on this from midnight to six am before heading to bed then go to work around 10 am for two weeks now... I hope it turned out the way you like it. Yes, the ones with unique magic is inspired with FGO’s Noble Phantasms... I’m still stuck in that hellhole of a gacha game. I think you can tell who my faves are by the length I’ve written for them XD

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

“Queen’s Rose Maze!” All five of the Heartslabyul main guys heard. “Traverse in the twisting maze of the Queen of Roses!”

All of them rushed towards the location of the voice only to see a tiny Riddle with (h/c) hair instead.

“What did I do?!” Heartslabyul A-kun whimpered as he seemed to be stuck in a rose maze.

“As stated by the Queen of Hearts’ Rule #186: Never eat hamburg steak on Tuesdays. You just broke a rule and you must be punished.” The kid scolded. “To think this is what my esteemed father deals with everyday…”

“By father, I assume that would be me?”

Surprisingly, Riddle seems to take this information in stride. The kid will turn around and his suspicions were confirmed.

The kid will run and hug him asking if he’s doing a good job. He introduces himself and everything Riddle asked, (s/n) answered perfectly.

Well, until you showed up that is.

“Mother!” He’ll call out in joy as he bounced towards you.

And there goes Riddle’s composure.

Oh great seven, you two have children?! Is his first thought followed by, We will get married, have children, and be together forever!

While initial surprise caught you off guard, you slowly accepted the fact that you and Riddle are now interacting with your future child.

When he can finally go back to his time his final words made both of you blush.

“Farewell, mother and father!” He’ll wave happily as he disappears. “I have to watch over the twins you two just have after all!”

Wanna try betting who’s redder? (It’s Riddle)

Someone – more like two – that is not him or you is on his bed.

Who dares occupy my bed?!

The little girl stirred from her sleep and upon making eye contact with you two she’ll screech in joy.

“(s/n)! Wake up! Mom and Dad are here!”

Both of you flinched both from the high pitch voice and the statement she just made.

The young boy will wake up as well and greets you two in a much calmer way.

They’ll tell you that someone’s unique magic transported a bunch of kids to the past and now they’re here.

Slowly but surely, you both can tell that (d/n) is a daddy’s girl and (s/n) is a mommy’s boy.

You all decided to take a siesta together, with the children in between.

When you both stirred in your sleep, the kids are gone. There’s a note stuck on Leona’s chest saying that they have to return to their time and they enjoy the siesta as always.

“Can’t wait to have you two soon.” Leona will mutter as he pulled you to him before going back to sleep.

A girl is crying in the lounge and it's disturbing the customers causing a bunch of complaints, forcing the twins to abandon current tasks to find the girl.

As soon as the girl spotted the twins, she grabs on them. “Uncle Jade, where’s daddy?”

Oh, Jade and Floyd are gonna have a field day with this. They kept questioning the poor girl about everything about her time to the point of scaring her.

“Aw, what a cute girl.” You’ll end up cooing.

“Mommy!” Tears are forming in her eyes as she hugs your legs tightly. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“(y/n), I wasn’t aware you have a child…” You hear Azul trail off at the news.

He’s crestfallen on the fact that you have a child already. He will start doubting himself, thinking, of course, your relationship wouldn’t last, he’s not good enough, that he didn’t realize the kid is running towards him.

“Daddy! Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd are scaring me again!”

“D-Daddy?!” He’s so taken aback he fell on his bum.

Jade and Floyd are laughing at his reaction while you just stared back and forth towards the child and Azul.

Ironically this is the time one of Azul’s customers decided to eat and run. Just as he asked the twins to deal with it the kid waved her magical pen.

“Everlasting Summer Spree!” And the guy is now over buying almost everything in the lounge. “Splurge in the joys of summer and shop to the fullest!”

Azul is so proud and started babying her with the very money she earned from one customer alone.

When it's time for her to leave he’s crying… which made her cry as well.

Looks like I’m going to be stuck with crybabies… is the only thing you thought of as you smile.

“Papa!” Echoed in the middle of the party that Kalim assembled.

When a young boy tackled him, Jamil was ready to grab the said kid until he noticed their features, and boy did he paled up upon the sudden realization.

“Oya, do I remind you of your papa?” Kalim smiled and hugged the kid. “That’s flattering, kiddo!”

“Uh, Kalim you might want to take a real good look on that kid,” Jamil said as he readied to call you on his phone.

When you arrived at the Scarabia dorm, you see Kalim pampering a young boy that has your eyes and complexion. A table full of food, toys, and jewelry scattered around to make the kid happy.

“Mama!” The boy called out to you while your brain is trying to process everything.

“Isn't (s/n) so cute! He’s really smart too!” Your lover kept on praising the kid as he played with Jamil, who looks like he wants to disappear.

Your mom mode instincts kicked in and scolded the two for overdoing things.

They kept saying sorry as Jamil finally got out of the predicament.

When the kid can finally return to their original timeline, he’ll give one last hug to the entire Scarabia dorm’s students before leaving.

“I’m so excited!” Kalim will tell you with a blinding smile. “Arent you excited as well?”

Vil was looking for Rook when he saw the said man playing with a little blonde girl. The archer noticed his presence so he beckoned the girl to come with him.

“Roi de Poison looks like your beauty runs in the family.”

The little girl did a curtsy as she greeted him. “Greetings, father. I’m (d/n), your daughter from the future.”

He’s amused, seeing as the girl acts gracefully by greeting alone. After doing his usual 5-second head to toe judgment, he nods and beckons her to follow to Pomefiore for a spa day.

No surprise but as they walk the premises of the campus, lots of stares and gossip started spreading.

Before either Vil or Rook can do anything, she once again spoke. “Father, may I ask for permission to use my unique magic?”

This piqued his interest, “Very well, show me what you got.”

“Smile of the Princess~” With an elegant smile flashed to everyone, “Hark, for the fairest’s daughter has graced you her smile~”

You just happened to walk by when you saw the commotion. Color yourself surprised when you saw a girl with Vil’s beauty and grace but with your eyes and preference of hairstyle cast her magic.

You might not have magic but you are quite good at noticing the quirks of everyone’s unique magic. A smile crept on your lips as you realized what her magic really does and who she might be.

They all got enamored with her and waited for her command. “Do get lost and focus on your duties, you pitiful potatoes.”

“As you wish, princess.” Everybody affected by her magic responded and went on their merry way.

“Oh my, so your magic is similar to Monsieur Multi.” Rook happily commented after the display.

“That’s incorrect.” (y/n) responded, already figuring out the true nature of her magic. “Smile of the Princess merely makes her target pay their fullest attention to her. It's her charisma that made them follow her orders.”

“So you noticed as well,” Vil confirmed which you happily nodded.

“Greetings, mother.” She curtsied and introduced herself once more. “We’re currently heading to father’s dormitory to treat our skin. Would you like to join us?”

Ah, so your hunch was right…

“She is going whether she likes it or not,” Vil answered for you as he smirked at your flushed face. “We do need a family bonding after all, don’t we, my dear sweet potato?”

“Yeah… what he said.” You sweatdropped as you unwillingly got dragged to their spa day. “Are we seriously ignoring the fact that she just said we’re her parents?”

“Are you opposed to having children with me?” He raised an eyebrow before facing your kid. “How many siblings do you have?”

“My older brother remains in my timeline with his acting job, father.”

You all end up doing the said spa day and enjoyed getting to know your daughter. You can't help but sigh in relief when she told you that she choose following Vil’s lifestyle of her own will rather than being forced to.

When she has to leave, rather than curtsying, she went and hug both of you instead.

“I know father’s at work and barely spend time with you but please don’t leave him…” She looks away with a sad smile. “He doesn’t mean to make you lonely.”

Against Vil’s protests, you grabbed his hand and raised it with a huge smile. “I promise I won’t let him go until he tells me to.”

Cue to Vil blushing, Rook laughing, and (d/n) smiling as she waves goodbye.

“You better keep that promise, you stupid sweet potato…” Vil mutters under his breath with a small smile.

The one rare time he leaves his room is when he visits you or he’s out to get his pre-orders. Today’s reason is visiting you.

He hears giggling from his brother and what sounds to be another child. He’s so curious if Ortho made a new friend that he didn’t even process the fact that there’s another person in your dorm.

“Big brother! Your son is here!” Ortho happily announced as he pointed at the giggling boy on your lap.

“AAAHHHH!!!!” Idia.exe has crashed. Please restart your system to continue.

“Ahaha, dad is still so jumpy as always.” (s/n) stood up and walked towards him. “Hi, dad! I’m (s/n), your son from the future.”

He’s the main suspect from all these time-traveling shenanigans. Creating a time machine wanting to meet you two which led to all the children wanting to go as well.

He explains the mechanics of the time machine along with its timer-based setting to return them to their timeline with no fail.

Idia is now just so invested in how this creation works that he sat down on the couch with his holographic computer typing notes and giving his ideas to the kid.

You’re just happy that Idia is finally interacting with someone else even if it's his son.

Truth be told when he randomly showed up in your dorm, (s/n) geeked out so much on how he unlocked the secret episode on his life story. He immediately bombarding you with questions about your current relationship with Idia.

It was overwhelming… thank god for Ortho’s random visits that you managed to calm the kid down.

In the end you four played video games – constantly yelling hacks when someone else wins – and had a great time.

When the timer started beeping, he gave you three a hug. “I love you guys! Please don’t forget the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow, Dad.”

“I believe that something you should say to future us…” You sweatdropped as Idia held back a nervous laugh.

“I-I’ll try.”

Le gasp from all three of you.

When (s/n) disappeared, Ortho starts chattering on how he can’t wait to be an uncle. Leaving so he can make lots of detailed plans for the future hangouts he’ll have with your son.

“(y/n),” He caught your attention as his face and hair slowly turns to fiery red. “I may be the biggest introvert in the world but I promise I’ll do anything that I can to make you happy.”

“Huh, I guess this is how Hades wooed Persephone to marry him…” You smirked as he covered his face to muffle his screaming. “Should we start planning for our wedding now?”

You two were having a peaceful picnic by the school grounds when a young boy appeared on top of the tree. He lost his balance though and leave it to Malleus’ fast reflexes to catch the boy with no sweat.

“Thank you, father.” The boy with a striking resemblance of your lover spoke as he regained his footing. “This isn’t how I planned to meet you two…”

“Father?” You two both asked.

“Okay, I’m aware that you are god knows how old but I wasn’t aware you have a child?” You can't help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Neither do I.” He calmly answers, confusion evident on his face. “I haven’t bed anyone in my whole life.”

“My apologies! I’m (s/n) Draconia, your fifth son from the future.”

Cue to you doing a spit-take. “Fifth?!”

Malleus is just beaming in joy from this news, he does love a big family. Oh, he can't wait for the future to come, get married to you and have children… five children!

“There’s eight of us, actually…” He whispered but you both heard it anyways.

Spit-take part two with a bonus of your face being redder than any tomato in existence and Malleus just vibrating in happiness. “EIGHT?!”

He goes on and telling their names and current accomplishments, all to how the youngest sister is about to be born in a few months.

“So, I guess that actually makes it nine.” (s/n) corrects himself one last time.

You passed out while mumbling “Nine… nine kids…”

As much as Malleus wants to keep talking, he chose to care for you first, chuckling at how you passed out from said information.

He brings you and his kid to his room to make sure you have a better mattress to lay on. The two Draconia’s will keep talking about how the future of the family works.

Oh, imagine the horror on his face when tend to always be at doors death every delivery time. Now he knows that it's quite common for humans to die when giving birth.  He second-guesses the idea of having so many children if your life is at stake.

(s/n) have to remind him that they all live, so everything's fine.

After that reassurance, you stirred awake and saw the kid once more. He now wants to snuggle with you on the bed, which Malleus followed suit.

“Mother, please sing me that lullaby again.” He yawns as the older fae encases you two in a hug. “We all love your song…”

You can’t help but smile seeing how adorable your son is being that you hummed the first lullaby your mother has sung to you in your younger days.

You two noticed he’s fading, assuming that he is going back to his timeline once again.

You both placed a kiss on his forehead, saying “We love you, (s/n).”

Malleus chuckles and pulls you close as he peppers your head with kisses. He’s so excited for the future that he’ll share with you and you can't help but feel the same way.

“So… who’s going back to clean up the mess we left at the school grounds?”

[aimee-maroux]

Plato-nic Love (Part I)

I sadly didn’t finish the whole story in time but this is part one of Seren and Plato’s epic love story for the ages XD

Illustrations were done by the wonderful @sigeel​ 😍😍😍

So this submission is by the two of us!

Plato-nic Love

Seren poured a libation of wine and started working on the grapevine that had been growing in the family garden for a while. At first, her mother had tried to get rid of it but it had proven the essence of indestructable life and so they had accepted its presence much like Seren had come to accept the presence of its patron god. She was about to cut off a branch to use for making a crown later on when she heard a familiar voice. "How is my favourite bacchae?" She sighed. It had been about a year since she had agreed to become his faithful follower and needless to say she was still the only one. "Do you know what day it is?" Seren started frantically going through all the calendars she had studied, from the reconstructed Attic calendar to the Roman calendar before and after the Julian reform -what moon phase were they in again? "You always think we don't care about these things but I have a sursprise for you." Dionysos flashed her a bright smile. "What?" she said flatly. A surprise from a god couldn't possibly mean anything good.

"I SAID: I have a SURPRISE for you!" Confetti and flower petals started raining down on them and from above sounded a rustic melody played on pan pipes. Seren looked up to see Hermes sitting on a treebranch, grinning as he played the instrument his son invented. "Ha ha, very funny, Hermes." Dionysos took Seren by the shoulders. "He was supposed to play the Time Warp. Because it's exactly ONE YEAR TODAY that you became my bacchae and do I have a surprise for you!" "Yeah, you said so. But maybe it would be better if-" "Nonsense! As your patron god I am exceedingly generous. You see, I have noticed your infatuation with Plato." "You don't say." "Yes. Anyway, Hermes was so nice to pay grandfather Kronos a visit and relieve him of a little artef- well, details, it doesn't matter! What is important is that you will get to meet Plato!" "Really?!" There was a nagging voice in Seren's head that told her to be careful but Dionysos had just told her she'd get to meet Plato! "Really. All you have to do is take my hand. But I have another gift for you. Hermes, come down here!" The messenger god swung himself lazily from the tree and floated down until his winged sandals touched the ground. "My brother pointed out that you might have difficulties speaking ancient Greek fluently so he will grant you the ability to speak it like a native for as long as you give up your native English." Seren gaped. "That... is surprisingly thoughtful of you." "Hermes, do it! And no nonsense like giving her a lisp or a foreign accent!" "Of course not. Why would I do that?" Hermes grinned at Seren. "I'd not even be there to see it." "What? Now? Wait!" Seren cried out as divine magic rearranged the synapses in her speech centre. "I did not agree-" "She'll speak fluently once you arrive in Greece," Hermes said, "Once you return, the magic wears off." Dionysos gave his brother a suspicious look. Then he beamed. "Perfect!" Dionysos clapped enthusiastically. "Hold on tight!" He pulled her into his embrace and Seren instinctively hugged him. The world around them began to blur and the heavens seemed to turn back as they sped through time and space. There was a sudden jolt and the world was clear once again. Only, it looked strange. But not strange enough for Seren not to recognise her patron god had spoken the truth. This was ancient Athens! She felt a nasty queasiness but she was much too excited to care about that just now. She had known about polychromy but the sheer explosion of colours in the city made her heart sing. The reconstructions were mere shadows of the vibrant paint on the statues, buildings, and clothes. And the Akropolis! It looked majestic even now but the ruins were nothing compared to the magnificence of colour and architecture. Seren stood in awe, even though they were miles away down in a sidestreet. Potters had laid out their painted vases and other works as they created new ones. Seren couldn't decide what to see first, jumping this way and that until the unsavoury sound of regurgitation briefly diverted her attention. Dionysos leaned against the mudbrick wall of a house and puked his guts out. "How can you be so chipper?" Dionysos groaned, wiping his mouth. "You're mortal!" We travelled both time AND space. You should be barfing like a youth at his first symposion." But Seren just ignored him in her euphoria. "It's Athens!" she cried. "ANCIENT Athens!" "That fleet-foorted son of a-" "What? What is it?!" "Nothing, nothing. Everything is fine. I just..." Dionysos leaned against the mudbrick house. "Hermes could have said something about the inconvenience of travelling." Seren shrugged. Who cared, they were already there. "I want to see EVERYTHING!!! The sculptures! The pottery! The architecture! The clothes..." "Speaking of which..." Dionysos grinned. "We should get you something less 2020. If you want to meet Plato, we need a certain disguise. And you want to look your best for him, right?" Seren screwed up her face. "Plato isn't about looks. He's about the beauty of the soul." "Well, if you want to go dressed in that tasteless pink sweater and leggings combination. But let me tell you, nothing looks better on a woman than a finely woven chiton." "Yeah, you're not at all biased." "It's one of the few things even Apollo and I agree on, so it must be true." Seren would have been happy just roaming the streets of ancient Athens for a couple of days. Or for however long this time thingy would allow. The prospect of meeting Plato both exhilarated and terrified her.

Dionysos bought her an elegant chiton in the extremely crowded agora. Seren hardly suppressed a squeal when he paid with real ancient drachmae. Only they didn't look ancient at all. "Why is nobody staring?" she asked, as another group of people walked past them without paying them any mind. "Did you put glamour over my modern clothes?" Dionysos laughed. "No need, honeybee. This is Athens. At a time like this they get tourists from all over the world. One strange, foreign costume is not going to turn any heads." He pulled her away from the merchants and splendour of the agora into the entrance of a seemingly abandoned house. "Put it on," he said, handing her the chiton. "Don't peek!" she reminded him before she changed into her new garment. It felt cool and pleasant on her skin and the quality of the linen was indeed fantastic. Despite the loose fit the fabric was so delicate it hugged her figure in an almost revealing way, making her feel exposed. "Is this really acceptable dress?" she asked. "Only with this worn over it." Dionysos came up behind her, closing another layer of cloth over her shoulders with simple dress pins. "You look great, honeybee," he said sincerely. "Plato can consider himself lucky. You got the brains, you got the looks, and even that austere, joyless personality to match." "I get the impression you don't like Plato much." Dionysos slung the belt around her waist and fastened it. "What gave it away? My graffiti, my groaning everytime you bring him up, or the charming way I speak about him?" "The graffiti was a pretty obvious hint." "I hope you appreciate my gift all the more, honeybee." "I do." She smiled. "But I don't think I could appreciate it any more than I already do. This is a dream come true. The most exciting day of my life. More exciting even than Delphi." "Be careful not to tell Apollo," Dionysos warned but he looked pleased. "Sure. If I ever run into him I'll remember it." As they stepped outside, the streets were empty. "Where is everybody?" "Oh, it must be time to crown the victors." "Victors? Of what? It's too cold to be July, isn't it?" "Not the Panathenaic Games." Dionysos smiled broadly. "It's not an athletic contest. Today..." He made a dramatic pause. "Is the last day of the Great Dionysia!" "Oh." Seren was disappointed. "So we can't go and watch any of the plays?" "I'm afraid it is too late for that. But I can show you my theatre and the temple with my cult image if you want."

Seren politely admired the simple wooden log that was supposed to be a representation of Dionysos and genuinely marvelled at the masks that had been dedicated below it. She patiently listened to Dionysos as he recounted the story of the very first Dionysia in Athens and how he used to mingle among the crowd every year to watch what the people of Athens had put on the stage in his honour. Once they arrived at the theatre it was already empty but it was a stunning sight all the same. Seeing everything intact and in its full glory filled Seren with unknown joy. The decorations, both permanent and temporary, were as colourful and flamboyant as the god they honoured. When they made it back to the streets of Athens, there were already groups of shouty drunk people roaming about. "Victory parties," Dionysos explained when he saw Seren's face. "In fact, we are about to attend one too. But first..." A purple mist shrouded the god's body and when it dispelled, his simple chiton had given way to a slutty ankle-length skirt that hung low enough to expose part of his bum cheeks, his arms, wrists, and ankles adorned with golden jewellery. "I know you practiced with the aulos. You're gonna be a flute girl." Seren startled. "What? No! I'm not nearly good enough!" Dionysos shrugged, making his golden bracelets clink. "I don't think I need to tell you that other kinds of women are not allowed at symposia. Unless you want to play the role of a hetaira..." "F-Flute girl is fine."

They arrived at a house that obviously belonged to someone well-to-do. "A group of revellers is about to show up here any minute. We'll join them to enter the symposion. Trust me, they're too drunk to realise we don't belong." Seren nodded nervously. "Now would be the time to ditch that respectable dress." Reluctantly, Seren freed herself of the protective extra layer of clothing and received the aulos flutes Dionysos handed her. The revellers did indeed show up. Loud and obnoxious, it was impossible not to notice them. A man in his late 20s or early 30s led the group. Half-naked and well into his cups, crowned with a wreath of ivy and violets, he was all but carried by two sturdy lads who looked like they were half-naked professionally. "Come!" Dionysos tugged on her arm and they danced along, she awkwardly, he with a grace and confidence she envied. The leader of the group pounded against the door and yelled for "Agathon". Seren's heart skipped a beat. "Is that... Alkibiades?!" she whispered to Dionysos. "The very same." "We are at THAT Symposium?!!" "We most certainly are." Seren gaped at the man who would eventually be the ruin of Athens by defecting to Sparta and then to Persia. He rattled the door, shouting "Agathon!" and dropped his single piece of clothing in the process, quickly picked up by his lads. Seren shrieked when the man suddenly leaned heavily on her, his arms reeling for support. Dionysos was quick to jump to his other side, taking most of the load off his bacchae. "AGATHON!" Alkibiades yelled once more, in the manner drunks yelled on their way home from the pub after closing hours. He kept demanding to see Agathon with a heavy tongue until a servant boy finally opened up and led them to the andron. Alkibiades managed to stand on his own, stumbling towards the host of the party while announcing how completely and utterly wasted he was. "Let's bring the bacchic spirit to this lame party!" Dionysos cheered. Seren gazed around with stars in her eyes. The room was bright with torches and the klinai were populated by men both young and old but all shirtless and all with crowns of ivy on their heads. She looked more closely at the guests while Alkibiades spoke to Agathon, probably congratulating him for his victory. But none of the symposiasts looked like any of the artworks she had seen of Plato. They were most likely created after his death anyway. "Soooo..." She leaned on Dionysos' shoulder. "Where is Plato?" Dionysos gestured at the kline at the very end of the room, occupied by two young men. "The dark-haired one."

"THAT is Plato?! I thought he'd be at least in his 30s!" Dionysos grinned a smug grin. "He wrote the Symposion in his late 30s. But this, honeybee, is the year the titular symposion actually took place. The first year of the 91st Olympiad. Or, as you would say, 416 BCE." Seren gaped at the young man seated on a couch with a blond youth. He had long, curly hair crowned with a wreath of ivy like all the symposiasts, young and old. A strong, Greek nose gave his face a distinct personality. Who would have thought the man Seren knew only from his words and artwork showing him as an old man could be so... hot. The blonde guy leaned over, whispering something to him. Maybe they were flirting. It wasn't anything unusual back in the day, Seren knew that. But they seemed to be about the same age. Shouldn't- "Play, flute girl," Dionysos nudged her with his elbow, "I'll clear the kline for you."

Seren watched him shimmy over to the pair and tried to remember how to play the aulos. She had practiced so much but right now it felt as if she knew nothing at all. Her idol, Plato, might be listening! Her cheeks burned as she blew into the wooden instrument, the tune an embarrassing version of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Despite playing the role of a dancer, Dionysos sat down with the two no doubt aristocratic young men in his usual impudent manner. The blond youth's face turned sour. "What is the meaning of this?" "I came for the entertainment." "We are very well entertained by each other's company, thank you." Dionysos gave the blonde guy a cheeky grin. "Does your company agree?" He crawled on the kline until he basically sat on Plato's lap, prompting the young philosopher to blush. How cute! "Some people can be such a dull affair, talking about nothing but themselves all the time." The angry blond yanked Dionysos off Plato. "This was a philosophical symposion before you arrived!" "Yes. And to shame! You are celebrating a victory at the Dionysia. Where is the revelry?" "There are countless symposia all over Athens. Why did you have to come and ruin this one?" "You know exactly that I didn't ruin anything. But please, if you have any grievances take it up with my master. Alkibiades." "You know what? I will!" The blond aristocrat got up from the kline and grabbed Dionysos by the wrist, effectively pulling him off the kline. He dragged the god behind him as he made for the door, leaving Plato all alone on his bed of colourful cushions. Dionysos winked at her as they passed and it was at that moment that Seren noticed that his "friend" was the only one wearing laurel instead of ivy. Did they just... cock-block Apollon? But not all is lost, she reasoned, if Plato likes Apollon, he likes blondes, right? Right?

Shyly, Seren sat down next to the man whose teachings she still hadn't figured out. And maybe neither did he. He was so young and handsome. She was close enough to smell his heavy perfume and either oil or sweat or both made his chest gleam in the firelight. It really was quite hot in here. He didn't fit the stereotype of the philosopher at all, being so young and handsome and quite brawny. But no matter how hot he was, his physical appearance was dwarfed by the beauty of his brain and thoughts. His intelligence was that much hotter. That being said, Seren liked to think she would be less flustered if the man were old enough to be her father. But he was not. He must be about her own age. "We got rid of the other flute girl." "Wa-What?" "You must know there were already celebrations with heavy drinking last night. Surely you played at Alkibiades' place or some other house?" Seren nodded timidly. "So Pausanias suggested we refrain from drinking tonight and we ended up sending away the flute girl as well. A shame, because before you came in, it was all boring speeches of the old men assembled here. I enjoy the delightful harmony of music much, much more." "You don't like philosophy?" "Of course I do, but not at a drinking party celebrating the Dionysia. You're not from here, are you?" "Ahm, no?" "I don't think I've met a Spartan flute girl. Most of them come from Peiraieús." Seren laughed nervously. What the fuck, Hermes?! "I hope it's not a problem?" she mumbled. "No, no. I'm just surprised. Do you have a name, dear?" "I... I am Seren." "Seiren? What a fitting nickname! My name is-" "I know who you are!" Seren gushed, "I-I-I admire you greatly, Plato!" "Oh?" To Seren's great relief he smiled. "So you have seen me compete?" "Uh, yes, of course!" Seren would be thrilled to see him at any competition, really. "It's just a silly name my wrestling coach gave me. To intimidate my rivals, he says." "I like it!" "You like my broad shoulders, Seiren?" Seren blushed. "No, that's not what I, uh..." "It's all right. Lots of women admire them." "Ahahaha." Was he flirting with her? Or just bragging? "You may be an outstanding athlete," she said, "But I admire your words even more." "My poetry?" Now it was his time to blush. "Did you play it?" "Not yet." Seren decided to be bold, "People want to hear the same songs, Sappho, Pindar and the like. But... But maybe you can teach me how to play yours?" "No I... I burned them all." "Why would you do that?" "I wanted to focus better on my studies. Maybe I made the wrong call. Mousaios, the guy who just left? He said music is like medicine and can create harmony between opposites, that a musical education is helpful in the study of philosophy. Ah, I don't know. I don't want to bore you, flute girl." "You're not boring me, Plato. Please, tell me your thoughts!" And then, all of a sudden, a large drunken group walked into the room and joined the party, Dionysos among them. There was noise everywhere, and Plato leaned in very close and asked: "What do you say, Seiren. Shall we make our excuses and leave?"

to be continued...

[tothemeadow]

You're awesome :3 keep up the lovely creations :D !! Errr soo I have been having this really angst and sad scenario where senjuro is a demona slayer and he accompanies kyoujuro to the train mission... and he dies instead XD protecting him and all *hides face* I just thought of giving you this idea, and you're free to decline... heh as if I need more sadness now XD

First of all, thank you so much! Second of all, I made myself fucking cry while writing this.

warnings: ANGST, death, mentions of blood

words: 2,700

The sound of shrieking fills the air.

He doesn’t know where it’s coming from. All he can see are giant flames, brilliant hues of orange and red reaching up towards the star-spangled sky. Its crackling is almost deafening to his ears; Senjuro presses his palms against his ears, trying to block out the sound. After the night he’s had so far, he wants nothing more to do with fire and trains.

To his side, he can barely make out Kyojuro’s words to Tanjiro. The boy made it out alive, thank the gods. He and that funny pig-headed guy successfully took down Lower Rank One, thus saving the day. In all honesty, Senjuro only wants to lie down and clock out. The passengers are safe. The demon is dead. Everyone can go home now.

A gentle tug at his haori grabs his attention. Dropping his hands, Senjuro looks down at his elder brother’s smiling face. Although he’s positively beaming, he looks incredibly tired. Senjuro can’t blame him; this night has been trying on everybody.

“Are you alright?” Kyojuro asks him.

Senjuro wants to tell him yes, he’s fine, but he can’t really bring himself to do so. He’s still relatively new at this whole “demon slayer” thing, and a battle this huge has sucked all energy out of him. “I’m not sure,” Senjuro says truthfully.

Kyojuro merely nods his head. “You’re not injured?”

At that, Senjuro shakes his head. If anything, he managed to get away with a couple bruises and scratches. He’s nowhere near Tanjiro’s fragile state. His eyes shift to the other, and he swallows hard. The front of Tanjiro’s uniform is drenched with blood, but it seems to be slowing. His breathing is steady, just like how Kyojuro’s is.

“I’m glad to know you’re safe,” Kyojuro tells him.

Senjuro joins him at his side, dropping down to his knees. The two brothers promptly give each other a hug; Senjuro begins to laugh in relief, his entire body shaking from the adrenaline leaking through his pores. Even Tanjiro flashes him a smile. He looks incredibly pained as he does, but Senjuro appreciates the notion nonetheless.

“Can we go home now?” Senjuro asks Kyojuro. With a laugh, Kyojuro ruffles the messy strands of Senjuro’s hair.

“Yeah,” Kyojuro says, his eyes turning soft. “We can.”

Things should have ended there. Everyone would’ve been safe, happy, alive. But, as fate likes to have it, it wasn’t.

A short distance away from where the three sit, something crashes into the surface, kicking up dust. The cloud dissipates into the night sky, revealing a tattooed demon. Senjuro’s throat goes dry. It happens all too fast – the demon, coming after Tanjiro and attempting to smash his skull in; Kyojuro, sweeping his blade in a graceful arc and successfully slicing the demon’s arm in half.

Normally, Senjuro would be in awe of his brother’s incredible reflexes, but this man – this demon… Fear clutches onto Senjuro, squeezes the breath from his lungs. He grabs the hilt of his blade and draws himself to a stand. So, the fight isn’t over after all.

“Nice blade,” the demon says, nodding his head towards Kyojuro.

Kyojuro ignores the so-called compliment. “To target a wounded person… I cannot understand why.”

Rolling his shoulders, the demon cocks his head. “These two would only get between us. They’re in the way.”

At the comment, Senjuro’s blood runs cold. So, the demon’s here for Kyojuro. He doesn’t necessarily know why, but he has the inkling it has to do with Kyojuro’s status as a Pillar.

Kyojuro scoffs. “Do we have something to talk about? It’s only our first time meeting, but I already hate you.”

The demon smirks. “Really? Well, I hate weak humans, too. It’s disgusting to see them roam about in this world.”

“Then our moral values differ greatly,” Kyojuro responds, not missing a beat. His voice is dangerously level; Senjuro’s not sure he’s ever heard his brother speak in such a way before.

“I see.” The demon snaps his tongue, almost as if he’s lost in thought.  “Then I have a proposal for you: why don’t you become a demon?”

Senjuro’s eyes immediately fly to Kyojuro. What kind of question is that? Oh, gods, please don’t let him even think about it.

Still, Kyojuro’s voice still holds that cool, devoid tone. Wherever this conversation is heading, it’s not going to end pretty. “Not a chance.”

The demon presses on. “You’re a Pillar, right? I can tell by your strength. You’re battle spirit… It’s impressive. You’re get close to supreme territory, you know that?”

He should move, dammit. He should get Tanjiro out of here. He should swing his blade at the demon’s neck. But why – why isn’t Senjuro doing anything? His legs won’t move. He’s shaking so bad, so furiously, yet the others are deadly calm.

“I am the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyojuro,” Kyojuro says simply. He should be proud of wearing the title, just like how Senjuro is proud of him.

“Akaza,” the demon introduces himself. “Kyojuro, I’m going to tell you why you can’t cross into supreme territory; you’re a human. You’ll grow old, you’ll die. It’s that simple. But, if you become a demon… You can live for hundreds of years, become stronger.”

Senjuro does not like where this Akaza guy is getting at. If he thinks he can persuade Kyojuro this easily, and for something like becoming a demon, he’s got another thing coming. He notices Tanjiro stirring around on the ground, seemingly trying to get up. No, don’t do it, Senjuro thinks. He can’t stand the thought of Tanjiro putting himself in danger again.

“You’re wrong,” Kyojuro pipes up. “Growing old and dying…  That’s the fleeting beauty of being a human being. Because they can grow old. They can die. They’re astounding, lovable, and precious. Strength isn’t a word they use about the body. These boys here, they aren’t weak. Don’t you dare insult them.

“And I’ll say it again: you and I have different morals. No matter how hard life gets, how hard I fight to survive, I will never become a demon.”

“Aniki,” Senjuro murmurs. Hot tears prick his eyes, threaten to roll down his cheeks. Kyojuro is such a wonderful person. It’s no wonder Senjuro looks up to him. To be like his older brother, so kind and passionate about the simplest things, it’s incredible. Senjuro wants nothing more in life. As long as Kyojuro continues to smile at him, to guide him along his life’s path, he is at peace with his life.

Akaza releases a sigh, disappointed with Kyojuro’s decision. “I see.” Senjuro’s heart thumps as Akaza abruptly takes on an offensive stance. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

This can’t be happening.

A sob rips itself from Senjuro’s throat as the two spring into action. All he can do is stand dumbly to the side, blade quivering in his unsteady hands. The two move too fast for his eyes to follow; swirls of color and dust fill his vision, leave his mind reeling. Where’s Kyojuro? Where’s Akaza?

Fire floods Kyojuro’s body, his full strength coming to light. Despite his fearful crying, Senjuro’s in awe of his brother’s wondrous abilities. To be strong, to be on fire, to be so damned amazing – this is the way of the Fire Pillar. The name has been carried by the Rengoku clan for generations, and Kyojuro is doing a superb job of upholding it.

The shouting filling Senjuro’s ears is undecipherable. He knows Akaza’s yelling, going on about how Kyojuro should just give up and give in to becoming a demon. But Kyojuro wouldn’t do that. No, not with the life he’s living now. Being alive is a gift in itself. It’s beautiful and fleeting, just like he said.

Again, Tanjiro struggles to move. Like Senjuro, he wants to get up and fight, but his body won’t allow it.

“Don’t move!” Kyojuro’s voice booms over the sound of fighting. “Tanjiro, if your wound opens, it’ll be fatal! Standby!”

Tanjiro is stunned silent. His jaw drops, but no sound comes out. He looks up to Senjuro with frantic eyes.

“Don’t focus on the weaklings, Kyojuro!” Akaza screeches. “Give me all you got! Focus on me! Fight me!”

The sound of footsteps and puffing breath reach Senjuro’s ears. Turning his head, the pig-headed guy, Inosuke, runs up to his side. “Wow,” he breathes, and he’s completely shocked to a standstill, just like the other two.

This battle, full of blood and flames, engraves itself into Senjuro’s brain. His eyes refuse to blink despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wants to jump in, to help his beloved elder brother, but everything is moving too fast. There’s simply no opening in sight.

It stays like this for five, ten, fifteen minutes. Senjuro has completely lost all track of time. Hours may have passed, maybe even seconds. It’s impossible to tell anymore.

As a cloud of smoke dissipates into the night sky, the two fighters reappear, both standing in a defensive pose. Senjuro nearly chokes at the sight of blood soaking his brother’s clothes and coloring his face. This isn’t supposed to be how it goes. Kyojuro’s the Flame Pillar for gods’ sakes.

“It’s pointless, Kyojuro,” Akaza drawls. “All the hits you’ve made on me have already healed. But you… What about you? Your left eye is smashed, your ribs are broken, and your organs are wounded. There’s no way for you to recover from this. If you were a demon, you could heal yourself in a blink of an eye. All of this would be a mere scratch. No matter how much you struggle, you can’t beat me. Humans can’t beat demons.”

Both Inosuke and Tanjiro are trembling. They have to feel this dangerous sense in the air, just like Senjuro is. It’s coming.

The end is coming.

“I will fulfill my duties!” Kyojuro exclaims, raising his blade. “I won’t let anybody die here!”

Senjuro can’t move his eyes away from Akaza. The demon seems to be mumbling to himself, an awed expression playing on his face. He has no idea what Akaza is thinking, but his gut is saying something entirely different.

“You should really become a demon, Kyojuro!” Akaza screams, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He ducks down and Senjuro can practically feel the air thrumming around him. “Let’s fight for all eternity!”

Boom.

Akaza disappears in another cloud of dust; the air screams as its split in half from his blinding speed.

“No,” Senjuro mutters. “No!”

It’s at that moment his feet kick into gear. If he doesn’t do something now, Kyojuro’s going to end up dead. His heart races inside his chest, furiously pounding against his ribcage, but he doesn’t stop. He’s running blindly towards his older brother, rivers of tears streaming down his cheeks and splattering onto the dirt below. Kyojuro’s spent his entire life looking out for Senjuro; now it’s Senjuro’s turn to do the protecting. He’s been standing on the sideline for too long.

He’s a slayer, after all.

“Senjuro!” Tanjiro screams, his voice cracking towards the end.

Blood roars in Senjuro’s ears. He refuses to stop. He presses himself to go harder. It’s all for Kyojuro.

“Aniki!” Senjuro yells.

He can’t see through the dust. For a moment, he truly believes he’s gone by, but then the dust clears away once more. Akaza stands in front of him, disbelief reflecting in his eyes. For some reason, he doesn’t meet Senjuro’s eyes. Senjuro quickly glances down and chokes on a gasp. Akaza’s arm… is completely rammed through his abdomen.

Blood bubbles to the surface, stains Akaza’s tattooed arm and his own uniform. Senjuro gulps.

Kyojuro’s good eye widens at the sight before him. His own little brother, standing in front of him, with Akaza’s arm bursting out of his back. “Senjuro…?”

His face darkens in a fit of rage. His hands grips on the hilt of his blade; electricity sparkles to the ends of his fingertips and his vision turns red. An anguished cry of pure, unadulterated rage bellows throughout the night as he brings his blade down on Akaza’s neck.

It doesn’t slice all the way through, due to the thick muscle of Akaza’s neck. Cursing under his breath, Akaza throws his left arm out in a punch, trying to drive Kyojuro away. Just as his fist is about to make contact with Kyojuro’s bloodied face, Kyojuro’s other hand quickly clenches around Akaza’s wrist.

“Fuck, let me go!” Akaza screeches.

His right arm flexes inside of Senjuro’s body, sending shocks of pain up the boy’s spine. A fresh new wave of tears spills down his face. Both he and Kyojuro scream at each other in their deathly grips; from what Senjuro can see, the blade of Kyojuro’s sword slices further into Akaza’s neck.

“Inosuke, move! Come on! Move towards Rengoku-san!” Tanjiro’s scratchy voice yells.

Out of the corner of his eye, Senjuro can see the other two slayers running towards the three of them. In the distance, the first rays of dawn begin to peek across the tops of the trees. Holding his breath, Senjuro watches as Tanjiro and Inosuke close in on Akaza.

However, it’s too late.

With a great leap, Akaza breaks himself free of Kyojuro’s grasp. Both of his arms get torn off in the process, but his wild eyes and grit teeth are more than enough to show that he doesn’t care. With Kyojuro’s blade still stuck in his neck, he makes a beeline for the trees. Tanjiro immediately takes after him, screaming with rage.

“You coward!” Tanjiro bellows. “You damn coward! Rengoku-san won! He’s amazing! He’s strong! He’ll never lose, especially not to you!”

Senjuro drops to his knees.

“Oh, gods, no, no, no,” Kyojuro rambles, hastily dropping by Senjuro’s side. His bloody hands clutch Senjuro by the shoulders, force him to stay straight up. “Senjuro-“

Senjoru openly weeps. He feels his brother’s hands stroking his hair and face, but the tears won’t stop. It hurts so much. Blood and tears pool around him, and there’s nothing that can be done about it.

“Senjuro, look at me,” Kyojuro pleads. His face is a sore sight to look at; bruises are beginning to appear on his jaw and cheekbone, plus the blood flowing down his eye and down his mouth looks more like grotesque waterfalls. It paints Senjuro to see his elder brother like this.

With trembling hands, Senjuro latches weakly onto the fabric of Kyojuro’s cape. “A-aniki,” he hiccups, “I don’t want to die.”

Tears prick the corners of Kyojuro’s eyes. “You’re not, Senjuro. I refuse to let you. Just keep breathing, okay?”

“I just wanted to protect you,” Senjuro continues. He knows he’s rambling at this point, but he has to get these words out before he never has the chance to ever again. “You- you’ve always been the one protecting others. I wanted… I didn’t want to see you die.”

“You did a great job,” Kyojuro chokes out. “I’m so proud of you. I always was.”

Senjuro’s vision blurs. Whether it’s from the tears or blood loss, he doesn’t know. “I’m… I’m going to see Mom again, aren’t I?”

This time, Kyojuro can’t hold back the sob that leaves his throat. He clutches Senjuro to his chest, buries his face in Senjuro’s hair. “My boy. My beautiful boy.”

Gorgeous streaks of pink and orange fill the morning sky. Pulling away, Kyojuro flashes Senjuro a heart wrenching smile. It’s soft, just like the sun. Kyojuro’s always been like the sun in Senjuro’s eyes: so full of life, bright, amazing. All he ever wanted was to be like his brother.

Over Kyojuro’s shoulder, a shimmering form appears in the sunlight. It’s someone Senjuro hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Mom?”

His mother smiles softly. “You protected your brother, Senjuro. Thank you.”

“Can I… Can I go home now?”

His mother nods her head. “Yes.”

With a sniffle, Senjuro looks back to Kyojuro. “Aniki… I’ll say hi to Mom for you.”

Kyojuro’s face scrunches, his shoulders shaking, but that pained smile still remains. “I look forward to meeting you again, Senjuro.”

“I do too, Aniki. I do too.”

[btswishes]

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 3)

Previous / Next (4)

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N: Ok Chapter 3 here we go, things are moving 10 000+ words later XD. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit.

Word count:  3,997

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name

Y/L/N- Your Last Name

Tag list: @vicmc624​

                                    ----------------------------

   Two men dressed in dark fancy suits helped Captain America sit on the bench next to Dr. Banner, while one more presumably, also an agent rolled in 2 stretchers. From the voices you could distinguish Natasha Romanoff and Sergeant James Barnes. Not too far, with a confidant step followed Tony Stark keeping the splint around his left hand, covered slightly by the expensive material of his jacket - throw casually over his shoulders. Poor Pepper having her husband come home almost dead all the time- must be just awful.

“What happened?” Bruce barked out intensely checking Natasha in a hastily manner, making sure there wasn’t anything too major

 “HYDRA fed us the wrong information, long story short caught the link in time and no one died.” Tony explained, pulling a squished protein bar from the inside of his pant pocket

“I almost saw the light for a second time Tony.” Captain hissed when you began disinfecting his wounds, reacting to the cold cooling yet irritating feeling of the clear liquid on the cotton ball.

“I am sure that was the explosion.” Natasha snickered at the blond man. ”Next time don’t look at it, ok?” One after the other injured agents flooded the lab making motion difficult. Most of the equipment was on the other end of the packed room. Talking and a mix of incoherent sounds filled your head, causing you to go into overdrive. You had no idea how people could work in such an environment. Hospital work was part of your curriculum, as weird as it sounded, since you were dabbling in human body functions. Even there you never had so many people on your head, there was order- obviously lacking here.

  Some were very badly injured, near-death was a correct way to say it, but for sure not 90%. Looking around you couldn’t find a shorter way towards the bandages and irrigation solution. Tables and people were placed like chess pieces in a game you were losing because of panic. Tony kept his eyes on you, biting down on the crumpling snack, waiting to see what you would do. It could have been all a test for what you knew, yet it flew over your head.

“Dr. Banner.” You yelled out patching up the Cap and moving onto one of the stretchers “Can you pass me the small bag behind you please?” he nodded and did it all without even taking a look away from Natasha’s wounds. Professional or just slightly overconfident?

  Rising your right hand you caught the bag making its way towards you. The flap flung open and you pulled out the 4 bottles of vibranium dust onto the table, right next to you. A hair tie emerged from the same place shortly after. Bucky looked up at the changing expression on your face, interested in silence maybe also in a bit of pain. Your fingers raked up your scalp, gathering as much hair as possible to imprison with the elastic. Tony ever so silent but focused, a good judge of character.

  The lids of the bottles rolled onto the desk, discarded without a thought. Your hands cupped all of them and spilling piles of metallic dust on the floor. Stark rose an eyebrow and stopped chewing for a second. Taking a deep breath the oxygen gathered all your thoughts into an anxiety suppressing pill, shooting in waves through your bloodstream. You didn’t waste any time, your eyelids swung up letting your lashes almost hit your brows. Both your elbows bent in, positioning themselves next to your waist line snugly. You could feel your back muscles clench and tighten before extending. They shot your arms to the sides, dust cloud forming two plates pushing agents to the side. 

“SILANCE!” the room granted your wish, even the atoms could be heard moving with the shock engulfing the field “This is a lab NOT a playground! If you are able to cause such ruckus you aren’t hurt enough to be here. If any of you insist on doing this, I will give you a reason to scream. If you are patched up leave! Got a paper cut or bruise- leave! Unless you crawl to me, I don’t want to see you.” hunched over your body didn’t move from its metal bending pose, arms spread like a bird in flight, eyes looking forward “Now, out.” the words vibrated fearless in your throat

  It wasn’t surprising that almost all people in black suits left in a rush, accept some that were actually getting treated from the mission. Sergeant Barnes was still laying on the stretcher waiting for his turn, taken back from the scene that unraveled above him. Almost in a Dr. Strange hand motion you pulled the vibranium back.

  The silence continued making your confidence evaporate and let the anxiety condensate back into you. Eyes roaming around the room till a loud and audible clap pulled the strings of your head towards it. Tony was doing his best not to mess his arm up more, but to him this deserved praise.

“Well done Miss inter, I am pleasantly surprised with your actions…” his footsteps creeped up, letting his body lean onto Bucky’s current bed, ignoring the man’s grunt of discomfort “…and that.” his finger made circles pointing at your arms covered with the metallic dust shaped slightly like a gauntlet

“It’s amazing isn’t it?” Banner, back still facing the rest of the room, scoffed proud like a father witnessing his child’s grades 

“You know about it?” Tony crushed up the plastic of the protein bar, tossing it in the trash in the corner of the room

“Yeah.” The doctor was finishing up with Natasha “We were actually talking about that with her before you rushed in. I was lucky enough to get a special demonstration as well.”

“So what is it Miss intern ?” his head tilted, showing a new angle of his goatee

  It didn’t take you long to notice that the sergeant couldn’t get up because he was shot pretty badly. Your desk had turned into a makeshift surgical table with all kinds of things on it - soon to be used. One of the gauntlets flew off your soft skin and pulled up the soldier like he was made of feathers. The wound seemed to be closing up fast, the super serum did give him abnormal healing. This was proof that not everything is a good thing. The bullet was still lodged inside his body, which wasn’t the optimal place for foreign matter.

“It’s vibranium dust. I am sure Mr. Stark knows about it. It was in my application papers.” You began disinfecting the area, applying a small dose of lidocaine onto the open cut, just to numb it as much as possible. Somehow you didn’t want this man to feel any more pain that he already had endured, past or present moment.

“You did, about it being inside the body not throwing it like the pissed off Sand man.” The ever so playful with words Tony ladies and gentlemen 

“I might have skipped one or two parts, but they were something I was experimenting with on the side and not on the subject I was offering.” The vibranium took the elegant shape of a sharp scalpel. With a light hand, the pressure made the blade disappear into Bucky’s skin, making a big enough incision. Tweezers fit inside snugly, pulling out the bullet that looked almost destroyed in his body. “ This batch is under my willful control.”

“Transmitter?” Tony’s eyes went over your whole body trying to find something, still consciously making a mental mark, on the little knife you manifested from basically a pile of metal “Doesn’t look like they are voice triggered .”

“The only transmitter is my brain waves.” Placing your fingers over a cup of rubbing alcohol, you dropped in the tweezers and the scalpel, now turned into the same shiny mass as it was originally in its own jar “ Quantum engineered with quarks made from my own tissues.”

“Ssss.” The hissing sound that came out from in-between Tony’s teeth as he took a sharp breath in, send chills down his own back “Masochist aren’t you. Hey, we don’t kink shame here sweetie, don’t worry.” A playful wink flew towards you “Y/N right?” your head nodded, hands putting things in their original place, trying to give the room back its original look “Nice nice. Welcome to the team, glad to have you. Seems like you chose Banner to start off your training. I am deeply offended .” a big hand grabbed onto the fabric over his heart, in the most theatrical way possible “Most people go for the playboy billionaire. I guess not everyone has good taste, don’t worry I will fix it.” 

“Excuse me?” training? Well that definitely was NOT in the list of activities for you internship “Ugh…”

“Sweet cheeks, you didn’t thought I would give access to Avengers information just like that to an intern?” he scoffed at exactly what you were thinking. The rest of the members were observing the situation from the sidelines. It wasn’t yet their time to jump in.

“Look.” His thigh went over the desk, sitting half way onto it, head crooked at you. Tony was focused on the ever so slightly changing lines of your face. He wasn’t the only one holding a breath in in expectation “I went over you application, I was taken back by your idea. It was so outside the box I am kinda jelly I didn’t come up with it. Some more digging here and there... turns out joining my university was done on a whim - second shot to the heart sweetie.” his fingers back onto his chest next to the reactor core “ Lack of history before that, no future ambitions whatsoever. Heck -” Tony’s body slid off the hard flat surface, fixing the jacket slipping off his shoulder. His back was facing you as he began walking towards the exit “ Even your professors were worried about you- gave them a lil call. I just saw a bright cookie I wanted, so I got you.” With a sideways, look he smirked almost like a cat playing with a mouse

“And I plan to keep you here one way or the other, so I offer you this.” Arms spread sideways, garment now resting on the floor, gathering the dust and dirt from all the shoes in here previously “Training, knowledge and access to tech you would never have even in university or the government. Your choice. Become someone who you used to look up to, or go back after the end of your internship.”

  Your eyes moved from the floor, slowly towards his jacket, over it and straight up his body. The breath lodged inside your throat began moving in and out unnoticeable. The two super soldiers could practically hear you inhaling a storm around yourself and Natasha read your body language. To all of them you were as simple as an open brochure. Tony knew, he was just waiting for the moment you crack under. You were but a pile of clay with astonishing properties, ready to be turned into anything.

“I did apply to Stark university as a last choice. BUT! I applied to this internship for the sole reason of doing nothing but the best to build up a reputation and secure a position in the future.” Your voice snuck out from between your soft lips as a rising in octaves whisper. As confidence began to accumulate so did the need for you to prove your qualities “Even if you didn’t tell me this Mr. Stark, I would have still whipped my success onto your face. There is something I just gotta know.”

  The loud laugh echoing from inside his voice box made your whole body flinch, a blink opening your eyes wide simultaneously. “That is my girl! Exactly what I wanted to hear from you. I knew I chose you very very well. And call me Tony, I am not that old yet for Mr.” his heels swung his body like a ballerina to face you for a bit “ First round you have with green angry guy over there. Banner seems to like you already, but I want to see how true those PE grades of yours are. I expect you to take the gym in the building as serious as the rest do, little smarty pants. I would say don’t disappoint, but that look in your eyes shows me you don’t need cheesy lines. ”

  It felt like time froze the moment the owner of the building stepped out of the lab. The heartbeat in your ears was the only thing counting down the seconds passing by you, before a big and firm arm rested onto your right shoulder. Neck cracked a bit looking up at the huge yet gentle owner. He flashed you a smile almost as bright as his blonde hair.

“He tends to mess with newcomers, don’t worry your head about it too much. Was like that with me too.” Captain America looked down at Bucky and then back at you “I leave my oldie here with you, make sure you take good care of him. “

“Thank you sir.” You blurred out, out of respect towards your childhood hero and probably one of the few people who you felt you could talk casually with out side of ‘work’

“Please, call me Steve. Even if you are a baby to the group, you are still an Avenger in training so, no need for formalities with us.”  With a gentle patting motion he pushed himself off you and in the direction of his own room. ”Don’t stay too long and forget to eat, I know how you science people get.”

  Natasha jumped off the stretcher and groaned out, trying to reposition the shoulder that once more was part of her body and not just hanging by muscles and tissues.

“See you later.” She flashed you a smile, red locks of hair dancing like fire around her “Neighbor.” The word sung out playfully, in a teasing big sister manner

“You staying behind for the usual check up?” Bruce’s voice cracked, waves directed towards the super soldier sitting on the stretcher next to you.

“Yeah.” The word bass low almost pushed his head to the side, but he stopped half way- direction opposite from you

“Y/N would you be a dear and do it for me? I have to go and get Clint his meds.” His thin figure skillfully snaked around tables, chairs and desks out of the room - door sliding closed behind him. You could hear the pressured air whistled inside from the movement.

  Pushing the screen over to the Sergeant’s body made you paused. The scanner caught easily the interference caused by his weapons, plastered over his body in bondage style belts and bags.

“Um, you will have to take those off. Sorry.” Your voice but a whisper that only his super senses could catch. With a nod he reach up to the clasp. The straps were pushing into his strong and muscular body so much, the moment he pressed the button they popped off with a jump, landing onto this pectorals seconds later. As much as you tried to stay professional, your eyes kept drifting over his body. Bucky looked huge compared to the TV version of him. Everyone knew he was experimented on by HYDRA and made into an enhanced human, but this man was a walking tank. His biceps and thighs waiting to just bust out of the fabric. Going wide, your eyes connected with your brain, realizing you were practically having weird thoughts over an injured person. Shaking out of it, you pulled back.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. ?” calling out, the interface answered practically before you could finish saying the name

Yes Miss.

“Do a standard scan and a nerve check please.”

Shall I send the results to your tablet?

“Yes, thank you.” The sound of the machine turning on led you to pull the flat screen and look at the image developing as pixels. Bucky’s body didn’t move, a bolder just sitting there and waiting. Yet his eyes caught a glimpse of your body slowly leaning onto the desk, focused on your work, unintentionally exposing your neck to him - the shapes your curves made. Somehow he couldn’t avert his gaze even if his head was empty from thoughts.

Done

“Ok...” the letters were prolonged. Biting your nail you noticed the inflamed nerve on his shoulder, pinched between his metal arm and the flesh of his body. “ Any shoulder pain?” you wanted him to say it, not you showing it

“None that I know of.” He responded, voice like thick caramel- sweet. Breathy as it was, the sigh left your mouth open, pulling your eyelids down over your irises. Your hips pushed you away from the desk and over to his left side. The cold vibranium under your touch felt refreshing. Soon as you found the spot, just the slightest pressure made him grunt.

“Hm.”an amused smirk followed the huff of air through your nose “Well I am sure this is something you know of.” Bucky kept his serious face, looking forward and not acknowledging the pain you pulled out of his extremity “Sergeant Barnes, come on.” He didn’t budge nor would he any time soon and you knew that without a verbal answer or marker

 Inhaling some air, you prepared yourself for a conversation that might just jab at more than his inflamed nerve. It could or couldn’t end up with you dead, but you weren’t getting anywhere with this. Pulling the chair on one leg, you swung it over standing directly in front of the tense man. It was time for a confrontation that no one wanted. With a push of your coat you sat down, crossing your legs and leaning onto the knee, elbow to palm.

“Look, I may not be the best person to have this conversation with or anywhere close to that, but you really need to start opening up at least to the people that care about you. Steve ‘cough cough’.”

  Bucky was still jumping from object to object but staying away from you “Keep your secrets to yourself soldier. Fighting inner demons and past trauma that you don’t even remember is hell, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer on the outside too. No one would think of you any less if you said ‘hey my shoulder hurt’.” Leaning onto the chair’s back you let your head fall towards the wood behind . Diverting your physical eye contact let him eye you comfortably.

“What would you know about that?” ok he spoke, defensive and aggressive but progress- we are making it

“I don’t, I never said I did. If I could experience what you have, I would do it to understand you.” Side to side your head rubbed over the backrest, little splints tugging on your hair “Trust me, I would make this whole situation a lot better.”

“Is this part of your internship or something?” his words pulled your teeth to your bottom lip, squeezing away gently the remark you wished to make. Maybe a bit of Tony was rubbing off onto you.

“Babysitting problematic kids?” head shot up, as your fingers found your chin, placing your whole demeanor into a thinking position “No, I don’t think so.I don’t tend to brats, not my forte.”

“You seem to let your lips lose in bad situations.” Oh now, now he was mad. “Might end up biting you in the ass later.” You didn’t need superpowers or the bp of his heart to deduce it. Since we jumped over the acceptable line by a mile, no need to turn back now. There is one way to deal with an ass and that was bite back harder.

“Sorry for not walking on eggshells around you. Sergeant Barnes.” You saluted him in a mocking way, leaning back in the chair, basically feeling the waves of anger directed towards you. If this was the Winter Soldier he would have bitten off my throat, disgraceful. - the contractions of your lungs stopped at that thought, so rude...so you? Almost like you knew him personally. Ok, ok time to cool down before something happens.

“How do you expect me to help you if you don’t throw me a bone?” you sighed, feeling still how angry Bucky was about the whole conversation and situation in general. You were in the same headspace, if not in a weird yet familiar one” If the arm hurts, let people help, heck ask Dr. Banner or Tony.” It still felt weird using their first names - energizing no doubt

“They don’t understand, never will, nor will you.” This grown man was acting like a child, like the world didn’t have people who had similar levels of stress in their life. It was slowly crawling up your nerves and igniting a fire that could, if unleashed, burn him down so fast, only the metal arm would be left. But you tried to stay cool and calm, be the adult.

“Fine, do what you want.” Your body shot up as you threw your hands even higher. The lab coat fixed itself back onto you, fingers rubbing the back of your neck. The man sat there hunched over, arm stinging with the most dumbfounded look he could plaster over his stoic façade. “You can go, but if you don’t fix it you will be a burden on the next mission.” And you threw the hook, now all good ol’Bucky had to do is bite and this would be all over in the nick of time. There was a room with your name on it, calling.

  You waited and waited till you noticed the stars pocking inside from the window. Head moving towards your clock made you realize that it was already 9pm. With a jump in your step you pulled all the vibranium back in its original comfy home and inside the space in your new desk. Whipping dust off tech and trying to organize your papers, completely ignoring the tantrum little boy pretty close by.

“Fine.” Bucky’s voice was louder and deeper than before

“What?” your neck tugged on the muscles, letting you look at him with an unbothered look swimming around in your eyes.

“I said fine.Do what you gotta do.” And the verbal consent was given on a whim. Joy filled you up knowing you wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. All happened in a blink of an eye - arms wrapping around his, a sudden loud and painful swing leading to the crack of his whole metallic prosthetic. This was probably the first time you saw such an expression on his face. His brain now activated to deference mode, reached to grab your neck. Any normal person would piss their pants, but you tried to stay calm. Tapping his wrist you played a small echoing sound, when his eyes landed on the full extension and rotation of his arm.

  The accumulating pressure left his muscles as it showed on his face. Bucky’s eyes were wide, roaming over his arm with the speed of light, pulling a light cough out of your throat.

“Sorry. “ he pulled back instantly.

“I just repositioned your arm you big brute. Next time swing gentle, no need to go through walls.” Palming your neck you pointed at the door

“Now leave me to my work.” A light jump and he was on his legs again doing as you requested, not being able to say anything. Leaning onto the door frame he mumbled something and left.

Sergeant Barnes was thankful Miss.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you, pulling a smirk from deep inside. “Yeah yeah, I know. Tough nut that James Barnes. Such a kid.” One more giggle and it was off to finishing up for you.

[bowieandqueen11]

Remember When / Hargreeves Imagine

Request: Love ur writing btw!! I have a Great idea for a Diego fic! Can u do his siblings somehow finding tapes/videos from the mental asylum Diego was in and seeing how badly he was tortured and abused. Then he has a panic attack or something at the end and they comfort him. 

I-ugh anon omg - my heart <3

Warning, some strong language, and also some descriptions of abuse, so please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable!

Comments and reblogs are so so so appreciated, as this took me honestly way to long XD! Thank you!!

‘Way to go. Real Team Zero back there.’

‘Diego, we’ve already been through this. Dad’s a stubborn prick, as he has been, all our sad lives, yada yada, we’re sorry, okay? We should have known he’d still be the same condescending asshole’, Klaus replies, waving his hands in the air as he climbs the stairs back up to Elliot’s apartment. Rubbing his left eye with his hello tattoo, he uses his right to try and fumble a blunt out of his pocket, clenching it between his teeth. As he feels Luther’s footsteps pound up the rest of the way and jog past him to the landing, he can’t quite seem to light it - his fingers are still trembling too hard from the pain of Ben stealing his body in the way he did.

Running up the stairs after him, Diego leaves behind the rest of his shell shocked siblings. Instead he focuses on tucking in the corners of his shirt back into his pants, trying to do anything to stop himself focusing on Reginald and the tears that still threaten to prick at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when he walks head first into Klaus, until he has put a hand out and gripped onto his shoulder to stop them both from tumbling back down the stairs like bowling balls and straight into Allison.

‘You, brother, are an idiot. And a fat lot of help’, he smirks, sadly, gently slapping Klaus on his cheek.

‘Rude’, Klaus shrugs, winding his way towards the kitchen and kicking off his shoes in the process, looking for some Vodka to steal.

Allison hops quickly out of the way of the incoming shoes, used to his antics by now, and instead comes to settle next to where Vanya has plodded herself down on the sofa. Fiddling with her oversized jumper, a far away look on her face, Allison places a comforting hand on her bicep and gives her a sorrowful smile.

‘What do we do now?’, Vanya murmurs out as Luther squirms uncomfortably on one of Elliott’s wooden chairs. He ignores the beeping of the machines behind his head, instead swallowing thickly.

‘We, uh... wait for Five, I guess.’

‘No no no, right now, the most important thing we can do to try and change the world, is save JFK.’

‘Ughh we’ve been through this a million times! That’s not how it works Diego!’, Klaus calls from the kitchen, only a cloud of smoke trailing out from behind the wall and filling the room with both a stagnant smell of weed, and a light fog that seems to dampen the small amount of sunlight filtering through the askew blinds, which Elliott had been taking photos through earlier this morning.

‘Look, I get that you’re on some big crusade to prove something to dad, but this is not helpful right now.’

‘We all need to stick together and stop this thing’, Allison chimes in, desperation in her voice.

Luther’s interrupted from his continuing thoughts by a small squeak out of Vanya, following her eyes from where they are trained to a spot on the rug.

‘Oh my god... is that blood? Is someone bleeding?’

‘Holy shit.’

He gets up then, following the trail, beckoning his sisters to stay behind him with his hands until he reaches the dentistry chair at the edge of the landing, grimacing slightly as he turns to swivel it towards him with a squeak. He feels Klaus bump into one side of him, and Diego hit onto his other elbow, a rusty kitchen knife raised and ready, and a look of almost determination on his face, as if he had just been waiting for something awful to happen, just another chain of bad events so he knew his life was back onto its normal tracks.

‘Oh noooo’, Klaus groans, cupping his hands over his mouth as Elliott’s body turns to face them, a knife planted firmly in his eye.

Turning away from the tortured body of his friend, Diego swallows thickly, dropping his knife to the floor and placing an arm over his stomach. None of his siblings really notice, all of them looking over the dead body aghast, wondering, pained that they were the ones who caused something like this. None of them noticed the shake in his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bile back down his throat again. 

Klaus, however, did notice something. However, sadly for Diego, it was not the right thing - not the signs of shock, anxiety, or guilt that flashed over his brother’s face - the signs of PTSD he would have been the most adapt at noticing in the room. No, instead Klaus looked past poor Elliot’s head, towards a blinking static screen that kept flashing blue and black on a nearby desk, left abandoned underneath the shutter shots of the rest of them by Five.

‘Hello there, what might you be?’

Leaving the rest of them, he fumbled with the buttons on the old TV, trying to shake it out of his head how eerily familiar this seemed to dear old dad’s surveillance system. Hitting any button he can find in vain, he throws his blunt out of his mouth and flicks it across the room, slamming the control panel with the fist of his palm, until his pointer finger somehow managed to falter and hit play on the tape left inside.

Never before had Klaus noticed how much time is like water, that it can drip by in front of his eyes so slowly, or even freeze with each new frame. The past few minutes had passed by as if he had watched a thousand frames per second, too slow to be normal, so unusual. He turns to try and point to his siblings, but his jaw is still so slack and he finds he can’t move his fingers properly. Shock, that’s what they call it, shock, he thinks to himself, fighting to get his words out so they don’t trail out.

There is a sadness in his eyes, the glass green too glossy when he finally turns to his siblings and manages only to feebly point at the screen.

For the first time, since his mouth had been wired shut as a teenager, Klaus was at a loss of words.

This grabbed the attention of his siblings, who crowded over to join him and peer intently at the screen - all except foe Diego, who stayed hovering at the edge of the group.

The screen lights up again, showing an empty room, one without proper handles, only sheets of smooth metal as makeshift windows for staff to peer through. There’s no bed, no mattress on the cold floor, just emptiness, isolation, silence, for the man who sits in the centre of the floor in pure white. They recognise from the shaggy hair and the wild beard that it’s there brother almost immediately.

'You were in an Asylum? What for?’, Vanya asks.

‘For trying to save the President’, Diego manages to mutter, unable to look any of them in the eye. ‘For doing what needed to be done.’

He’s interrupted by himself, the small version of him on the tape muttering to himself, rocking back and forth. ‘I am not enough, I can’t do it, I’m not good enough. You’ll never be number one, never.’  

The door swings open then. In his intense silence, Diego somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile as the doctor approached him with the needle.  

‘Please! Not the needle!’, he begs and cries. ‘Please!’

Luther’s the first to turn round and look at his brother. The first to finally look, to finally see him, how defeated he looks, for the first time since they all landed in that alleyway.  It's the look that he gives Diego. Those pale blue eyes, probing into his soul, desperately wanting to see what's going on in there. That look, it just tore Diego apart, piece by piece, and although it wasn’t his fault, he found himself deeply unsettled, deeply angry at him, at all of them, so suddenly.

‘W-w-what? What are you looking at a-a-ss-’

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth and stops his words from escaping, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, making it contort and expand until it feels just about ready to burst. His ribs heave uneasily, and Allison’s afraid he’s about to pass out, Klaus rushing forward, biting his lips. Diego only wants to run, but needs to freeze. All he can do, instead, is fall to his knees, and allow four pairs of hands to catch him before his face hits the floor.

A single tear slides down from his warm, butterscotch eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His siblings made the noise for him, warm, comforting little nothings, telling him it was going to be okay, he didn’t have to go back, they were going to do it, save the world. Save themselves.

The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened on his wrist, white knuckled, strong, until Luther had pulled him against his chest, and the others had gently fallen to their knees too and placed their arms around his back as best as they could. Klaus was half leaning over Allison’s leg, and Vanya in turn was completely squished, face first, against his chest, but somehow they made it work.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives you the space to breathe, like the ones Grace used to give Diego after a mission. Shutting his eyes, he realises he isn’t used to this type, the kind of hug with strong arms that tells everything that your are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you. 

They stay like that for a while, the five - well, the six of them, as Ben places his arms around his siblings as well, even if they can’t feel him. The six of them, battered, afraid, neglected, and yet, not alone. They huddle there together, embracing each other and crying and just allowing themselves to be open, to be vulnerable with each other, to realise their dad wasn’t there and they didn’t have to go through this alone anymore. 

Tears were wiped and sobbing laughs were shared, and even Five, when he blipped back into the room, saw the set of his siblings hugging on the floor and felt a pang of loneliness and love for his crazy family ring out in his heart that he joined them, if only for a second.

From then they weren’t numbers anymore. They weren’t even siblings. They were more, Diego said with a smile. They were Team Zero.

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: None!

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, I’ actually a bit more busy these days so please deal with me! ^^’ Anyways! I hope you all enjoy today’s chapter and forgive me if there are some mistakes, I tried editing this but it’s almost 2am and my brain is about to die xD

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You didn’t have an idea of what was going on.

With your back pressed against the wall and Jaebum’s hand around your neck, you stared deep into his eyes, completely frozen on the spot, not even knowing how to process the situation you were in right now. It slightly reminded you of the first time he showed up in your apartment, cornering you like this, right before he kissed you without your consent but this was painfully different and there was no way you could ignore it. That time he had held you gently, longingly, as if you could break if he was a bit rougher than he was supposed to be while the grip he had on your throat,  was depriving you from some of the oxygen you should be breathing.

It didn’t hurt though, he wasn’t squeezing strong enough to actually choke you, but the posture he had placed the two of you in, screamed dominance, it was as if he was silently and not so subtly stating he could control you whenever he wanted and thought it was necessary. You couldn’t believe this was the nice and sweet Jaebum that had fallen asleep on your shoulder this morning while you waited for the bus, he was a completely different guy and yet you couldn’t help but feel even more intrigued about him.

A normal person would have been scared, you knew fear would be the most rational thing to feel when an absolute stranger was holding you against the wall by your neck but there was something in his eyes, a glint you couldn’t decipher yet, that overwhelmed your lower stomach with a warm feeling that was far from fear and closer to safety. He wasn’t going to kill you, he could have done it the other night if he had wanted to.

“What’s wrong with you?” You simply asked, staring back into his eyes, watching how he went from heated and dominant to confused and thrown off. He hadn’t expected you to ask that, out of all the different outcomes he had imagined while waiting for you, Jaebum didn’t even think about this one.

“What?” He asked, grip on your throat faltering, his thumb was now caressing your pulse spot, feeling how your heart beats slowed down. Jaebum’s head tilted, like a puppy that didn’t understand whatever you just said.

“Why are you mad? I didn’t even have time to stop you back in the cafeteria before you stormed off” You repeated, visualizing Jaebum’s gears turning in his head, eyes locked on you, the situation wasn’t going as planned and Jaebum was lowkey panicking.

The shock that brought your words and unexpected reaction had fried his brain enough for him to not even know how to react to everything, Jaebum simply was in a lost for words and that only made him even more frustrated “Way to ruin the situation (Y/N)” 

Moving his hand away from you, Jaebum let out a quiet sigh as he shook his head, looking incredibly disappointed at whatever had just happened between the two of you. While he had expected you to enjoy his actions and get in a better mood with him acting all dominant and sexy, you had only thought he was merely mad because of what had happened that morning. You were partially right though, everything that was happening right now had been triggered by the jealousy Yugyeom stirred awake in Jaebum’s chest but he hadn’t been aiming to get this kind of outcome, he had just been hoping for a little make out session and some dinner, that would have been perfect. However, lost was an understatement to how you felt, you didn’t even know where this was all coming from and you wanted to try to get an explanation before listening to your subconscious and assuming he had some kind of personality disorder he had forgotten to mention.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, looking at him, your eyebrows furrowing because of the soft frustration you were starting to feel “What situation Jaebum?” Your words only seemed to hurt his feelings even harder.

Jaebum considered his whole plan useless if you couldn’t have guessed that he was trying to spice things up romantically between the two of you from the beginning. His jaw tensed in what seemed to be anger but instead of saying something, Jaebum simply looked at you in defeat, hands raised in exasperation as he rolled his eyes and turned around to walk deeper into the apartment. 

“Jaebum wa-”

You started walking right after him, willing to stop him before the distance between the two of you got too big, when your eyes landed on the table you usually had dinner on by yourself. Gone were the bunch of books and boring papers you always had scattered on it, being replaced by a red, soft looking tablecloth that you probably saved for special occasions but ended up never using it because, there hadn’t been any special occasions at all. A few candles had been lit in order to let the rest of the room be swallowed by darkness and gentle moonlight and, like the tablecloth, your special occasion silverware had also been set and prepared, waiting to be used.

“What’s this?” You asked quietly, awed by the view in front of you. “Did you do all this?”

Jaebum scoffed, plopping himself down onto your couch, finding your reaction truly unbelievable. Was it that hard to believe he would do something like this? “No! You see, actually Youngjae broke into our place and decided to prepare a romantic dinner for us but, since you arrived earlier you kind of interrupted it” His sarcasm and the way he called your apartment ‘ours’ was left ignored for the better, those were small arguments that you definitely didn’t need to have right now, it could wait till later, probably when Jaebum had calmed down and forgot about whatever the hell seemed to be bothering him at the moment.

“Okay, I deserved that, it was a stupid question” You muttered as your eyes moved from him to the table, right before they went back to him once again, while you stood there, in the middle of the room awkwardly, not knowing how to really handle the situation.

You’ve never found yourself in a similar situation, never in your life had you had to deal with something like this. Coming back home and finding a surprise, and apparently special, dinner was already incredibly new but frustrating somebody to the point where they didn’t even want to talk about it also was a first time for you. You still felt lost, mind raking for answers as to what you could have done or said to make him this upset but anxiety was also ready to show up since you definitely felt bad for making him mad and now, for hurting his feelings. Jaebum had taken the time and effort to prepare all of this after all and you appreciated it a lot even when you haven’t shown it yet.

“All this was stupid, I should have known it wouldn’t work” He mumbled in return, placing his feet up on the coffee table as he stared at the turned off television like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Jaebum’s child-like tone told you he was back to being the one you were familiar with, the one that got grumpy when you rejected his romantic advances and hated Youngjae for reasons that were absolutely insane. “Shouldn’t have listened to that old man, it feels like I’ve been tricked” You couldn’t help but lift one of your eyebrows at those words, definitely curious about what he was talking about.

“You’ve been scammed?” You asked, sitting down by his side on the couch, legs crossed and body turned to face him completely, letting him know he had your entire attention right now “How did you come back home Jaebum?”

“I saw Youngjae waiting in the bus stop and he offered to pay for me, so we came home together” Jaebum slightly lied, thinking it would be best if he didn’t mention how he had been the one asking Youngjae to pay for him, it was just unnecessary for you to know that right now.

It was surprising to find out that Jaebum had accepted coming back with Youngjae, someone he hadn’t hesitated to make his enemy, but knowing your own neighbor, you didn’t doubt that he would have offered Jaebum to come back home with him. “Ah, I’m glad you didn’t have to walk all the way back by yourself” You said with a small smile “I got out of the cafeteria to give you my bus card so you could take a ride home but I couldn’t found you, I felt kind of worried there” 

“You did?” He asked, taken back by your sudden confession, he would have expected you to completely ignore his little tantrum and focus on your crush instead, not to go after him “What about you though? How would you have gotten back home if I had your bus card?” 

“Well, I could always walk” You shrugged, leaning back against the couch, you hadn’t realized how truly exhausted you were until you landed your butt onto the comfort of your old couch “But I could also make Jinyoung pay for my bus ride even though I would have to buy him coffee for the next two days” Jaebum smiled a little, despite his first impression -which were always bad when it came to guys-, he kind of liked this Jinyoung guy since, instead of trying to seduce you, his only objective in life seemed to be getting on your nerves “I wouldn’t mind lending it to you, silly”

Jaebum’s lips turned into a small pout, mentally calling himself an idiot for getting all mad at you without listening to you first. Jealousy and worry were getting the best of him and if he let those feelings control him for too long, the situation would only get way too difficult to handle “I just thought you were too busy fanning over Yugyeom to worry about….Me” He didn’t realize how childish and stupid those words actually sounded until he had said them outloud, like God, he cringed at himself for saying something like that. A soft blush made its way up to his cheeks, making Jaebum look down at his own hands in order to hide the pink shadow that was overtaking most of his face.

You might have missed the cute blush but your eyes definitely noticed the hesitance in his eyes, the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie….Jaebum was feeling nervous in this situation, probably felt a little insecure too and you suddenly were glad you weren’t the only one feeling like that right now “Yugyeom?” At the mention of his name and your obvious feelings, a strong blush tinted your cheeks, making you feel incredibly embarrassed. The only one who knew about your crush -or at least, that’s what you thought- was Jinyoung since you were too shy to even talk about it “I wasn’t...Uh….I just didn’t want to be rude and reject all of his ideas, you know?”

Jaebum scoffed, shaking his head silently, were you seriously trying to deny having feelings for Yugyeom when he had witnessed how you almost drooled as soon as your eyes landed on him? “(Y/N), I’m not an idiot, I saw the way you acted around him, you obviously like that guy” He sighed again, sounding painfully familiar to a disappointed parent. Leaning the back of his head against the couch, Jaebum’s eyes stayed glued to the ceiling “Even though I’m way better than him”

A genuine chuckle escaped your lips, despite how scaring he had been a few seconds ago, Jaebum was now back to the jealous childish guy he usually was around you. If he was seriously doing all of this because you had an innocent crush on Yugyeom..…”Is that so?” You asked amused, one of your eyebrows arched as you watched him curiously. His eyes were dragged down from the ceiling, turning towards you when he heard your question. A small, playful smirk pulled one of the corners of his lips up, the way his eyes scanned you left your stomach turning into knots “Why? What do you have that he doesn’t Jae? Enlighten me”

“Jae, huh?” He suddenly asked, making you blink confused before you realized you had just gave him a nickname without his permission.

“I’m sorry” You quickly apologized, blushing again as you thought of ways to fix the mistake you’ve just made, in case he had gotten slightly offended. It could also be that maybe Jaebum and you weren’t in that friendship stage yet, the one where the two of you gave each other petnames or nicknames, maybe it was too soon yet even though the two of you literally live and sleep in the same place, besides each other “I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“It’s alright” He assured, shaking his head “I like it, nobody calls me like that” Jaebum’s smile was friendly, one full of honesty and that showed he wasn’t just saying it to not make you feel more uncomfortable about it.

“Anyways, you were saying…?”

“Oh! Right, I was just about to start my Why-Im-Better-Than-Yugyeom-Speech” He said smirking, standing up so he could pace around the coffee table, acting as if he was really going to give a speech to the imaginary public that was sitting on the couch around you “First of all, have you seen this?” You couldn’t help but laugh when Jaebum used one of his fingers to point at himself, moving it up and down so you could take a good look at his athletic figure. That question had been totally unexpected.

“You mean, you’re shorter?” You asked, just willing to tease him a little bit, laughing even more when his eyes opened as wide as saucers at the realization of what you’ve just said.

“You can ask questions at the end” He cut you off, trying to look all serious even when the glint in his eyes, even when the way his lips kept twitching when he thought you weren’t looking, gave away that he was as amused as you were by this. “Second reason is I’m funnier” You opened your mouth to say something but Jaebum started talking again before you could interrupt him “You laugh way more with me, don’t even try to deny it” 

“We met a few hours ago! How can you know that?” You asked giggling, hugging the cushion you kept on your couch, looking at him expectantly. Even though your night had started off with the wrong foot, both of you had big smiles on your faces and laughter was starting to replace the tense and confusing atmosphere from before.

“Call it Jaebum’s intuition” He simply replied, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Is it as trust-worthy as female intuition?” You questioned, squinting your eyes at him playfully to let him know you were watching him closely.

“What part of the you can ask questions at the end that you didn't understand?” There was evident frustration in his words, quiet chuckles slipping past his lips with every word he said as he sat back down on the couch, already giving up on trying to finish the mental speech he had been improvising. 

“There’s no more reasons?” You pouted softly, not willing to let his amusing speech finish yet. 

“I’m better because I say so, end of the story” Jaebum turned his head to look at you with a smile and, for some reason, your heart decided to skip a beat right at that moment. You knew he was handsome, every normal yet realistic person would admit Jaebum was a really attractive man but right there, in that moment, he looked so domestic, so kind of...Boyfriend? That it made you feel flustered for the first time since he had  made his way into your life. At the lack of smartass responses and silly jokes, Jaebum’s eyes observed your face carefully and unfortunately, for you, the blush on your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by him “What is it?” He asked with a soft chuckle, eyes still on you, amusing him even more when he saw slight panic in your eyes.

“What is it what?” You asked back, maybe sounding a bit more defensive than you should have sounded.

“Why are you getting shy on me now?” Without any previous warnings, Jaebum dragged himself closer to you, leaning in as if the already non existent distance between the two of you wasn’t close enough. “What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about? Since when am I shy around you?” You asked gently, placing your hand on his chest, cautiously pushing him away so his face wouldn’t be that close to yours, triggering the memories of that first kiss the two of you shared when he showed up.

“Well you were pretty shy yesterday when I kissed you and don’t even get me started when I announced I would be sleeping in the same bed as you” Jaebum reminded you, a playful smirk on his lips that only stretched even more when your cheeks turned even redder at the mention of those events.

Not willing to be Jaebum’s target for tonight’s teasing you stood up from the couch, unnecessarily dusting off your clothes as you tilted your head to glance into the kitchen, willing to see what he had managed to cook for dinner. No food’s scent was filling up your apartment and that was slightly suspicious, you expected everything from Jaebum but you tried to remain positive, after all, he had prepared everything for you, the least you could do was have a little faith in him.

“So what’s for dinner tonight?” You asked, turning around to just find him staring up at you, smiling amused. You decided not to ask what was so funny since you knew his answer would only make you even more flustered. He definitely was in a flirty mood but you weren’t sure if your heart could survive that.

His smile twitched, someone who hadn’t been watching him closely wouldn’t have noticed it but you knew there was something he hadn’t told you yet “Uh...About that” Jaebum suddenly stood up, hand flying to the back of his neck where he scratched for a few seconds before his hands moved back down to start fidgeting with the rings that adorned his fingers “Your fridge was literally empty when I opened it, what was I supposed to do?” He asked, acting all frustrated and exasperated when you perfectly knew it was all an act to hide his nervousness from you.

“So, you’re telling me there’s nothing for dinner?” One of your eyebrows was arched as you turned around to look at him, not knowing whether to laugh or to hit him as hard as you could.

“I ordered pizza” He blurted out, as if he was telling you the worst kind of news someone could have ever told you. “LikeIorderedabunchofthembecauseIeatalotand-”

“Jae breathe” You instructed, not really understanding anything he was saying, internally freaking out because whatever he did seemed to be really serious.

“Okay so I just asked Youngjae how many pizzas should I order for us and he said that one would be enough but that I should order two if I was really hungry” Jaebum was still talking really fast but you were managing to understand most of the words he was saying, not really knowing where his little speech could lead up to “But when I read the menu I started liking everything and choosing was almost impossible so I endeduporderinglikefiveofthem”

“You did what?” For some reason, maybe because you probably had gotten used to how fast he had been speaking during this whole time since dinner was brought up, you managed to understand the rushed end of his sentence. “Did you just say you ordered five pizzas for the two of us?”

“Andyouhavetopayforthem”

You didn’t know if you should laugh and thank him for spoiling you with food or cry because the bill would drain the remaining little money you had saved in your wallet.

After eating as much pizza as you could without throwing up, the two of you cleaned everything and made sure every candle was turned off before you made your way to bed. You had scurried off to your bathroom after getting some clean clothes to take a short shower and change into something more comfortable before getting in bed with your new roommate, you weren’t calmer than last night though, the thought of sharing a bed with somebody like...With Jaebum in general, made your heart pound against your ribcage way too hard for your liking.

It was probably your lack of experience that made you so nervous around him, it definitely wasn’t because you liked him or something, that would be totally insane.

Jaebum was already in his underwear, clothes tossed on the floor as he pulled the bed sheets back before sitting on his side of the bed. He was exhausted after waking up so early to take you to class, it wouldn’t take too long for him to fall asleep. Resting his head against your pillow, he closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, the scent of your perfume pulling the corners of his lips up. Despite the reason he was here and what he was going to do to you, Jaebum knew he would have liked to be friends if you had met in another situation.

He would have definitely enjoyed your company so much.

It was the sound of his phone buzzing what made him snap his eyes open, he didn’t have many contacts saved and the few ones he had were definitely not welcomed to establish some kind of contact with him.

Jaebum’s blood froze when his eyes scanned the words that shone in his phone, his eyes scanning them over and over again.

Jackson 22:45 - What’s up bro? I’m back in town, did you miss me?

Jackson 22:46 - I bet you didn’t.

Taglist: @gold--gucciempress​ @harringtonsblackgf​

[when-they-write-stuff]

No. 25 - Wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast - but with a specific twist. In canon. Pre relationship. Stiles fell asleep at Derek's (exhausted after research, hurt after fight with big bad, it's up to you but nothing too dramatic ^^) or Derek stayed at Stiles'. When Stiles wakes up Derek's in the kitchen, making breakfast. Then the prompt happens. Then awkward silence xD cause, wtf are you doing Stiles? Set season 2ish? Or something? Idk.. But only if you want to! XD

“I told you to stop touching it.”

“I’m not touching it!”

“I can see you touching it, Stiles.”

“Whatever,” Stiles said, crossing his arms as he dropped back onto the bed. “I totally wasn’t touching it. You don’t have eyes in the back of your head.”

Derek huffed and turned back around, a first aid kit in hand. Stiles sat straight back up then, only to groan and wrap an arm around his side once more.

If anyone asked, Stiles would say that he totally got injured in some badass, heroic way. He totally wasn’t running from the current Monster of the Week only to trip over his own feet and nearly brain himself on a rock.

There was a gash sliced open across his chest. Stiles winced as Derek knelt down in front of him, frowning at it. Like the injury had somehow personally offended him or something. Stiles snorted at that, earning a strange look from Derek.

He just shrugged. “I’m just curious, but when was the last time you cared that I nearly died?”

“I’d care if you died.”

“Aw, Sourwolf. Would you say some nice things at my funereal?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m just saying,” Stiles said. “There was this one time I showed up with a bruised face, bloodied lip, and cracked rib and I don’t think even Scott cared.”

Derek’s face hardened at that. He glared even harder at the gash before angrily dabbing at it. Stiles squeaked and tried to shy away.

“Dude, ouch! That hurts!”

“I should have checked in on you,” Derek said. Stiles blinked at him.

“Dude, it’s fine. I’m not bitter.”

Derek looked a little bitter. Stiles studied him for a moment longer before barking a laugh. 

“Oh my god, you totally care about this token human.”

“Shut up.”

“Derek, I’m just gonna say it. I’ve totally gotten under your skin.”

“Like a parasite.”

“Rude!”

Stiles thought there was a hint of a smile playing along Derek’s lips when he rolled his eyes and set the cloth aside, studying the injury again. Stiles was pretty sure it wasn’t bad at all, but Derek had taken one look and told Stiles either he came back to the loft, or Derek was taking him to the hospital.

Looking at it now, Stiles laughed again. “Dude, that’s just a little baby cut.”

“It could’ve been worse.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I could have gotten an infection and died.”

“You could have.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, pushing himself up. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles pulled out his phone but then hesitated, glancing back. Slowly, he raised an eyebrow. 

“Why the hell do you have a first aid kit lying around anyway?”

“Why do you think?”

Stiles grinned from ear-to-tear, turning around again. He scrolled to his dad’s name, just to let him know he was finally heading home, and waved a hand through the air as he wandered back out of Derek’s bedroom.

“Whatever, you totally care about me. Now if you’ll excuse this token human, I’m going home. My bed is calling and it’s like… oh my god,” Stiles blinked at his phone. “It’s three am, dude. I can’t go home now! My dad is the lightest sleeper you’ve ever met and he’ll totally ground me for life.”

Derek stood silently in the doorway. Stiles spun around, pointing a finger at him.

“I blame you. This is your fault.”

The man just blinked silently. Stiles thought for some reason, he looked a little pleased. Groaning, he typed out an ‘At Scott’s’ message, knowing there was no way his dad was going to fall for that. But Stiles still had yet to explain… things. Werewolf things. And currently, he’d take distrust over putting his dad in danger.

“I’m staying here,” Stiles said flatly. Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles crossed his arms. “The pups are already asleep and you, sir, can spare the couch. The next time you nearly hospitalize me over a small cut, I hope you remember this.”

“I will,” Derek said. And Stiles didn’t think he was being sarcastic.

Huffing, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and wandered down the hallway to find some extra blankets or pillows. But, finding nothing, he popped his head back around the corner.

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on that lump of a couch without at least a pillow.”

“Okay,” Derek said, pushing his bedroom door open. Stiles blinked a few times and then narrowed his eyes. 

“What?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, his meaning obvious. Stiles crossed his arms, sitting back on his heels.

“Dude, what are you playing at?”

“It’s a big bed, Stiles,” Derek said flatly. “If you don’t like it, you can sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

“You totally care.”

In response, Derek turned back into his bedroom, vanishing from sight. Stiles stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, debating his options. Because yes, he could probably share a bed with— oh my god— Derek Hale. But Stiles was… okay, you know what? Stiles was a growing boy. The feelings he may or may not possibly have were completely not his fault.

But he was totally waking up early tomorrow morning and making a run for it. Stiles did not need to see Erica’s smug grin if she came across any of this.

Stupid werewolves and their super-sniffers. She always caught him thinking bad thoughts at the worst moments. 

Usually when Derek was around.

After another long moment, Stiles plodded into the room after the werewolf. He could share a bed just fine! He and Scott used to all the time.

When they were literal children.

Derek was already under a giant pile of blankets, his back to the door. Stiles held his breath as he climbed in bed behind the man, carefully turning his back toward Derek was well. The last thing he wanted to do was have his throat ripped out because he accidentally ended up snuggling the man come morning or something.

It took him a long time to fall asleep. And by the time he did, he was nearly falling out of bed trying to make sure he stayed very far away.

Stiles woke up first.

That was exactly like he’d planned except for some reason, he was sweating. Like, drowning in his sweat, and he was pretty sure he couldn’t move. It took a few moments of tired blinking to realize there were a pair of giant arms wrapped around his chest, caging him against the mattress, and a stubbles face pressed into his neck.

Stiles froze. 

If Derek woke up to this, Stiles was so dead. He’d never be able to show his face at the loft again. He could probably get his stomach sliced open and Derek wouldn’t bat an eye.

Stiles was an idiot. And he had to escape.

He tried to move slowly. A wiggle there, a bit of ducking underneath Derek’s unfairly muscular arms here. By the time he was halfway out, Stiles was pretty sure he was going to be caught in the most compromising position ever. 

He ended up with one foot out of bed, one foot still tangled up in the sheets, and ended up just oozing to the floor.

Derek grunted and Stiles froze, staring in terror at the ceiling. But then the man rolled over, seemed to go right back to sleep, and Stiles let out a soft breath.

His phone read six o’clock in the morning as he crept out of Derek’s bedroom.

Erica was sitting on the couch.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, resisting the urge to groan. “What is wrong with you betas? It’s six in the morning! Go back to bed.”

“Sleep well, Stilinski?”

“I am not engaging in this,” Stiles said, ignoring Erica as he pulled his shoes on and started toward the door. But the beta cut him off before he could make his escape, a smirk tugging at both sides of her mouth. 

“I won’t say anything,” she said. “If you make us breakfast.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“I want pancakes and eggs.”

“I’m pretty sure Derek doesn’t have anything in that kitchen of his other than protein powder, raw meat, and bread,” Stiles said flatly. Erica just grinned.

“You’d be surprised at the things he has around this place to impress the annoying token human.”

Stiles blinked at her. Because… he was the annoying token human, wasn’t he? Allison was definitely very human, but Stiles was pretty sure she was just drop-dead gorgeous and exceedingly nice, not annoying. 

Erica raised a brow and rested her shoulder against the loft door, waiting. After a moment, Stiles groaned, turning back around and starting toward the kitchen. Erica’s laugher followed him.

Stiles hated Derek’s betas sometimes.

He was pretty sure he heard the sound of Erica’s door shutting and of course she was going back to sleep. Stiles briefly considered making a run for it, but then he just sighed, resigning himself to his fate.

He made some mean pancakes. He better get all the praise in the world for this.

By the time Stiles had a neat stack of pancakes on one plate and a skillet of scrambled eggs on the stovetop, he realized Derek was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Just standing there, looking at Stiles with an odd expression on his face.

Stiles froze, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. A dozen excuses came to mind but none were better than, “Erica made me.”

Which Stiles realized also wasn’t great. But Derek just nodded quietly and plodded into the kitchen, coming to stand behind Stiles. The man studied the food over Stiles’s shoulders and Stiles shivered a little, painfully aware of how close he was standing.

For a moment, all he could feel was arms locked around his chest. A stubbled face tucked into his neck. Derek’s warm breaths on his skin.

Stiles was pretty sure his heart skipped a beat. 

Then Derek was reaching around him, stubble brushing against his ear. Stiles went stock-still, not moving a muscle, only to realize Derek was reaching for one of the pancakes. He made a noise of protest, trying to smack the man’s hand away, and Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist instead.

Stiles froze. “Derek.”

The man didn’t say a word but he’d gone stock-still too. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Dude.”

“You’re making breakfast.”

“An astounding observation.”

“In my loft.”

“... Erica made me?”

Derek finally pulled back, fingers ghosting over Stiles’s sides. Stiles shivered despite himself and then Derek was reaching over again, grabbing a pancake and moving away before Stiles could protest. He glared as Derek took a giant bite.

“You animal.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles glared harder.

“Pancakes with no syrup is a crime.”

“I don’t like syrup.”

“Because you’re an animal. Next thing I know, you’ll be begging for ear scratches and whining when I pet you.”

“No dog jokes,” Derek grumbled, dropping onto the stool in front of the counter. His hair was sticking up in all directions and he was still wearing the same rumpled clothes from yesterday. It was kind of adorable. “It’s too early.”

“That’s the only objection you have about what I just said?”

“If you ever try to pet me, I’ll rip your throat out.”

“There the Sourwolf I know.”

Derek gave him a flat look, taking another pointed bite of his pancake, but Stiles thought he could read a hint of a smile. Before he could say anything though, the betas came plodding in. Erica last, looking from Stiles, to Derek, and then back with a small smirk. Stiles rolled his eyes and returned to finishing the eggs.

This was blackmail. The only reason he was still here.

Stiles could still feel phantom arms wrapped around him, though. The brush of stubble against his ear. Once more, he shivered and this time, it was Derek watching with an amused expression. Or maybe a pleased one. Stiles just rolled his eyes and looked away.

Whatever. He didn’t care.

There was another first aid kit in the drawer that Stiles opened, searching for the silverware. Despite himself, he smiled. Another one. Because apparently Derek didn’t trust him to not be an idiot.

Or maybe the man cared a little too. 

Stiles closed it carefully and might have been smiling even brighter when he turned back to the eggs. Erica was downright beaming now and Stiles flat-out ignored her. Whatever. He could survive this level of blackmail.

And maybe he would accidentally stay over again some time.

- -

I accidentally misread the prompt a little and had Stiles make the breakfast instead. But it still works, I hope? I had fun with this one! I love some awkward accidental domesticity. Thank you for the prompt, my friend!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your struggling student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[yuvon-writes-letters]

Hi. I’m back.

(The handwriting is a little shaky all throughout the letter. Seems like Yuvon is having a little difficulty handling the pen, but not too much.)

Thanks for your concern :)

I’m... not really okay, exactly, but Jake calmed me down, and I’ve basically separated him and the thing that looked like him into different compartments in my brain. Mostly.

I don’t seem cold blooded anymore, but my temperature is still way down, so I’m gonna be a blanket burrito for a little while while Jake actually gets some fucking sleep. Also, I’m using my hand as an ice pack for Jake, because I feel kinda awful for attacking him. Like, I had reasons and he doesn’t blame me or anything, but still. I’m catching up on letters after I write this section, I’ll go through them chronologically.

Oh fuck. Lis, listen, none of this is your fault, okay? None of it. I don’t know how the hell the entity talked to you, but clearly, it was (whited out) about my plan

The hell?

It was (whited out) about

(Whited out)

(Whited out)

Fucking hell. Fine. I’m not allowed to say that apparently. Guess that makes it true then ;)

(The ink changes for one sentence to be so dark it sucks in the light around it.) If that’s what helps you sleep at night, sweetling 🤭

...Anyways. Lis. I don’t know how I know this, but I KNOW that its actions weren’t affected by whatever you did. It just wanted to taunt you. It didn’t even particularly mean to hurt you as much as it di   How the fuck do I know this?

I’m... just going to stop thinking about that here. Next letter.

I’m gonna have a talk with Jake when he wakes up. He’s acting fine, but this is definitely not the type of thing you get over in two days. I don’t know what happened to him, but whatever it is, if it’s anything at all like what I experienced, it’s bad. I don’t think the entity went any lighter on him just because I was the one to break the rules that apparently exist that we weren’t fucking told about and not him.

He left out a couple details of what happened to me. Probably for the best. Lis must already be feeling awful enough as is.

Lis, I’ll... yeah. I’ll write about it eventually. Not in this letter, though. I want people to be able to skip it if they don’t want to see it. And again: zero need to be sorry. It is not reliable. It lies. You shouldn’t necessarily believe everything it says.

Oh jeez Jake had to deal with the Crow Crew when I was gone. That won’t have ended well.

Jessy, I’m glad you trust us both now :) However, I agree with Jake that Lis is very much trustworthy. Additionally, pointing fingers is the last thing we need right now. The enemy is the entity and the MWAFerfucker. No one else.

Jake! I didn’t realize you’d started writing to us independently :) Thank you, Goldie, for helping him get the letters. Thank you also for the advice, I hope that helped my universe’s Jake. He feels way better when he has a plan.

Um. While I agree that Jessy’s comment was out of line, Jessy was panicking just as much as the rest of you. Remember my “pointing fingers” comment? That applies to EVERYONE. Not just Jessy. I understand that you were stressed and defending Lis, and please don’t take this as an attack, but I would REALLY appreciate it if we all could stop fighting for five seconds.

...I say, having snapped at Jessy in my last letter to her :( I’m sorry. I was really upset and I sort of took it out on you. Not directly, exactly, but I still did. That wasn’t really an okay thing for me to do, especially when you were already grieving and starting to feel guilty and stuff.

The entity can’t touch other universes well, only transport things like the letters. It can only affect my world and this plane. Don’t ask how I know. I just do.

(The ink darkens for two sentences.) How are you doing that? Stop that.

You first.

Anyhow, I’m glad it especially can’t attack Lis anymore though, Goldie. (Aur? Goldie? You know what, I’ll just stick to your nickname til told otherwise.)

...He must have been really stressed if he didn’t quite black out my name sufficiently. Well, it doesn’t really matter. He would have said my nickname, anyhow, and anyone who could trace “Yuvon” back to my birth name doesn’t know I exist. Heck, maybe I’ll tell you my nickname at some point, though it’ll be sorta jarring after being Yu and Yuvon for so long XD

No no no, Rai, it’s not your fault :( No pointing fingers at yourself either, okay?

The meme comparison is pretty accurate XD   Now I sorta want to make it and show it to Jake. I feel like I should wait a while before I do, though. Maybe once all this is over. Everything’s a little too raw right now.

I only sorta understood snatches of the part of the letter Jake read out before, but it makes way more sense when I’m conscious and not missing pieces. Yes. At least for now, I’m not going to mess with the ritual. When I’m more recovered and can focus more, I might try HARMLESS experiments, nothing that would help us escape. Maybe a coffee machine or something. But I especially am not going to risk it when I can’t completely focus. Getting the thing I wanted without too much risk was hard, and I was helped by being upset, which made me a bit more determined to get what I needed. ...I sorta also very slightly brainwashed myself. That’s going to take a little work to undo, but hopefully not so much. I didn’t do it for very long, after all.

That was pretty silly anyhow. The entity can’t read minds or influence them.

I’m fairly well rested, given I was in a coma for two days, and I’m gonna be taking it easy for a while too. Jake, on the other hand, judging by the bags under his eyes, did not. Stupid adorable hypervigilant idiot genius. ...What does he mean by “doing little else for the foreseeable future”? Now I’m a little worried XD   ...Hope he meant it in a bed rest sense, and not a “coma” sense.

You need to sleep too, though, Rai. Not drink more Red Bull.

I hope you get your apartment soon! :) Hopefully after you do that you’ll be able to relax a tiny bit.

...The entity is contacting people? Huh. I wonder what it’s hoping for. Maybe attention? Or maybe it’s trying to get something.

I’m sorta worried about Lis :/   It’s good that Max trusts you, though. And I agree with Jake, Lis’ll be fine. I also agree that it’s best if Max thinks it’s the not-entirely-fake stalker that made her panic.

Oh fuck Lilly figured it out? Poor Jake. Well, I guess it sorta makes sense. She knows me and she knows Jake, after all. In fact, we’re probably the two people Jake has talked the most with. She’d be one of the most likely to realize.

Out of curiosity, what IS Lis’ relationship with Lilly like? She and I get along really well now that the video drama is over, but I know I’m a little weird when it comes to forgiveness, and I could really see that complicating our friendship if I was capable of holding a grudge for longer than a day when I wasn’t actually trying to hold one.

Yeah... I agree with Jake. There’s no way she wouldn’t have suspected something was up, but the situation resolved in basically the best way it could have. I’m gonna have to talk with her later, though. I’ll need to look at what exactly Jake said to her to figure that out, so I need to wait until he wakes up.

...Jake was tormented by not-me too, huh. We really have a LOT to talk about. He’s gonna sleep first, though.

Wait. Hold up a second. What the fuck is that? Did Jake write that or something? That’s my handwriting, though. What the hell?

Okay. So. That previous letter. I did not write that. I don’t think Jake did either. Process of elimination, the entity is fucking with us again. Ignore it.

...I actually think I know what that is. I can’t check, though. It’s mocking me. What a bitch.

That’s it for letters for now. I’ll answer new letters as they come in, but til then I’m just gonna rest and read something. Maybe I’ll reread Percy Jackson.

—Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)

[imastrangeone98]

Shopping Spree

(A/N: haha you thought it was a new chpt of lost and found? No! You get a stinking one shot, that's what you get!)

Lolol honestly I'm still coming up with ideas for the next chapter so I'm doing a one shot until I come up with something XD

Warning: if you hate shopping as much as I do, this is gonna be an eyesore XD

This takes place sometime before chpt 5 of my lost and found series

"Faith. Babe. Seriously. We need to get you some better clothes," Lady muttered as she ran a finger over her friend's ragged hoodie.

"But... but they're fine!" the nephilim protested weakly. "They're still clean, and they fit me... well, kind of."

"I know, but they're just so threadbare. And hot." Walking around her friend, she carefully scrutinized each piece- hoodie, jeans, sneakers. "It's only gonna get hotter here, and I don't want you melting into the pavement!"

"I... I don't have money," she said, a pitiful final attempt to dissuade Lady from taking her shopping.

"You let me worry about that," she reassured, sneaking a predatory look at Dante, who was oblivious to the whole thing. "At least let me get you a new shirt."

And Faith knew then and there that she had lost the battle.

[...]

"Try this on! It's cute!"

Faith's arms were now piled high with clothes. She began to wonder if she was just an excuse for Lady to splurge on pretty outfits.

Dante yawned in the corner, rubbing his eye while tapping his foot to the upbeat music playing throughout the store. "Are you done? I'm hungry."

"Not yet. She has to try them on." As she spoke, she nudged Faith towards the changing room. "Now go. Go forth and dress."

With a heavy sigh, she obeyed, slipping into the small room.

The male let out a soft groan. "C'mon, Lady. Just let her wear what she wants; it's not hurting anyone."

"Trust me. She'll thank me later. There's a heatwave sometime this month, and I don't want her sweating to death. Also, thank you for actually wearing a shirt and not one of your stupid titty strap jackets."

"It's not a- it's not a titty strap!" he spluttered. "It's a gun harness!"

"Yeah, whatever. It still looks stupid. You really need a wardrobe change-"

"Holy shit," he whispered, as if in awe of something.

Unaware, she rattled on, "For a guy who's practically waist deep in debt, your obsession with red coats is-"

"So... what do you think?"

The sweet voice behind her caused her to turn around... and she gasped.

The soft, white dress flowed just past Faith's knees, the delicate gold flower designs accentuating the gentle aura that always surrounded her.

She looked like an angel.

The two companions stared at her for what felt like hours. It was to the point where she began to squirm under their gaze.

"Is it... not good?" she asked, shyly tugging at the hem of the dress.

Dante mumbled something, his face bright red. But he shook his head and gave her a thumbs up.

Lady, on the other hand, couldn't stop the compliments from pouring out. "It's perfect! It's just the right size, it's not too flimsy, and it matches your vibe!" She dramatically grabbed her friend by the shoulders and repeatedly shook her. "Please tell me you'll keep it! Please!"

Faith's brain still felt like it was rattling in her head. "Okay. Just... don't do that again, please."

[...]

They had traversed over ten shops within two hours. Faith had been rather conservative in her choices, much to the shopping lover's chagrin, but she still walked away with an impressive hoard of shorts ("Ripped shorts are always stylish," Lady had reassured her), floaty T-shirts, a dress or two, a pair of flip-flops, and- on Faith's insistence- a red flannel button up (which Dante seemed particularly happy about).

And while Lady gleefully pushed each bill into their male companion's hands, he didn't seem to mind all that much, simply taking it without a word despite Faith's constant protests that she would find a way to pay for it.

"It's fine," he said with a gentle pat on her head. "Just stick around and wear the stuff; that's payment enough."

"But..." she stammered, only to get a finger pressed to her mouth.

"No buts." With a grin, he slung an arm around her shoulders. "Tell you what. You manage to get through the rest of the trip without worrying over finance, and I'll buy you some cinnamon buns later. Deal?"

She would've argued with him, had she not remembered the smell of the sweet cinnamon glaze as they walked past the shop. Her mouth watered.

That shut her up.

At some point, their growling stomachs became too loud to ignore. They began their trek to the food court, only for Dante to point out a box to them.

"Check it out. A photo booth," he snickered. "I love those things. So cheesy."

Faith looked at it. "I've never been in one before."

He gave her a look. "Wait. What? Seriously?"

She shook her head. A small frown tugged at her lips.

"...Alright, we're changing that. Come on!" Grabbing her hand, he practically dragged her to the machine, where the trio squished themselves trying to fit in the minuscule box.

"Jesus, what were they thinking, making it so tiny?" he grumbled when an elbow smacked his cheek.

"I thought they were mainly for couples," Faith squeaked.

His blue eyes widened. "...Yeah, well, they really should take people like us into consideration, too." His voice sounded like it went up an octave; she wondered if he was just tired.

Once they finally got situated (Faith ended up sitting partially on their laps), Dante pressed some buttons on the screen and announced, "Alright, smile!"

Snap! Snap! Snap!

During each pause, they made some kind of funny pose- tongues out, then bunny ears, then a simple one with their arms around one another.

Faith laughed at some point over her friends' ridiculousness. And out of the corner of his eye, Dante watched her with a wide smile on his face.

Snap!

"Is that the last one?" Lady grumbled. "It'd better be; I'm starving!" She started pushing them out of the booth.

"Wait, the photos!" the small girl cried out.

"I got it!" He snatched up the strips of paper, sneaking a peek at them before shoving them in his pocket with a grin.

"Hey, stop hogging the goods!" Lady tried to shove her hand into it, only to get pushed aside by him.

"Quit it! I'll give you one later!" Before anyone could argue, he threw an arm around each of the girls' shoulders, steering them towards the food stalls. "I still need to buy those cinnamon buns."

"...You're gonna share those with us, right?"

"Fine."

That shut them up.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: it's so dumb and fluffy but hey it's not like anyone's gonna read it right?? Hahaha... ha...

Anyway I'm pretty sure Mando is up next. Look forward to it my nonexistent fans!!

[koorinohebi]

OC ABCs: Y1 through Y5, please!

1. How old were you when you created them?

Let's see. Oh wow, to be honest I had to do a bit of math here since I've had Kiomi for so long. SOOOOOO long. And guess what. Even I'm surprised to remember that I created her back when I was 13 years old. It's been what, 17 years since then. Man, time sure flies. 

2. What inspired you to create them?

Often times my inspiration to create characters (either making an OC or taking up a canon) is due to friend influence. Kiomi was probably the only one that doesn't share that. Because I was relatively new to the Naruto fandom back when I first made her and I just wanted some interaction from people who played in the verse. (I didnt even know what canon was back in the day. Like, I had no idea that they were called that.) So I made a character with attributes that I liked, elements that I like, etc. while learning all about jutsus and stuff, and how the verse operated. I'm a bit rusty now specially since I've been on a very long Hiatus, but yeah. My inspiration for her came from the desire for interaction and story weaving. That's when I met my first friend in the verse, which just so happened to be an Orochimaru. They were very apprehensive and iffy about OCs but apparently, we were able to hit it off well enough that they were comfortable about interacting with my muse. So apart from just story building, my friend's Orochimaru was part of the inspiration, specially for the environment that she grew up in.  

3. Were they different when they were first created?

Well, for starters she's less of a brat now than she was back then. She was so problematic when I first made her. She was so ridiculously rebellious to the point where she throws things at her lord when she becomes pissy and throws tantrums. (One thing hasn't changed though. If Kabuto tells her to behave, she behaves. xD) She's better at handling that now. 

Her personality is fleshed out better too. Years of interaction with Muns and Muses alike have allowed me to explore her persona and characteristics. That enabled me to add the layers that were necessary to make her feel more organic. 

Let me just say that I love Naruto movies and plotting with friends. Back when all I had was the fact that she's from Yukigakure and that her family was part of a genocide, I was wondering how to tie stuff into the verse more properly. Because of the history of the Kazahana's in the Land of Snow, the technical advancement the place had, I've been able to incorporate that knowledge into creating information for her clan. 

Those are just some of the changes that's happened for my muse over the years, but I think my favorite part of the changes is the fact that she has some bonds now that are relatively real. Something that she believes is worth fighting form. Loss is a very big part of her character evolution. The more loss she experience, the more her personality shifts. She's always tethering along the threshold of wanting and protecting bonds, and not wanting to have anything to do with it. 

I love the fact that she doesn't feel the desperation for a bond until it's there. Back then, she really wouldnt have given a crap. But now, when she experiences something genuine, she develops an eagerness to protect it. However, when it comes to bonds, the one thing that hasn't really changed is the fact that she'll try to avoid it as much as possible, until she realizes that she can't. 

Kiomi's also actually pretty defiant. But I found that mellowing over the years too. When she realized how that gets her into too much trouble, she eventually toned it down. However, it's been replaced by her chronic lying-- which isn't too good a thing either. But the chronic lying is basically her defense mechanism now, because from the start she is bad at dealing with people. Being honest lands her in disadvantageous situations, so she resorted to lies. (She just doesn't know it yet, but that'll get her in bigger trouble. Dont tell her, okay? ^_~ ) Also, being a liar helps her interact better with strangers for intel gathering. When she's faced with strangers, you can bet your horses that the first thing she lies about is her affiliation with Otogakure, because she's learned that not a lot of people trusts shinobi from the Hidden Sound Village. So it's not too strange to see her pretending to be a civilian. It's also the reason why she's often without her hitai ate. 

But you know what, Kiomi is inherently a good kid at the core. It’s just that she ended up growing up in an environment that didn’t allow for too much of that. This is why if you’ll notice in some of my threads, she’s actually quite nice to people in similar situations such as her.

 4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters?

I do, actually. Among all of my OCs, I have an attachment to Kiomi. It's probably because I've had her for so long that I can't get enough of her and her growth. 

This has reached the point where, if ever I go RPing on another verse or when I return from a long Hiatus (like I have done as of recent) I always end up penning for Kiomi. It's not that I like my other muses any less, it's just my one brain cell has a tendency to pick what it likes and it does like this particular muse. 

I'm surprised how well she can adapt to other verses as well, which makes it easier for me to integrate her in certain verses whenever I get a burnout for Naruto. For example, I've played her in Devil May Cry before wherein the two verses kind of semi-merged. It was fun. From shinobi, she casually just got a job in Devil May Cry for devil hunting, I got to make her her own Devil Arm, etc. I've played her in a Fate Stay Night setting where she's the master of the world's oldest bully and even if they dont get along very well, they're able to function as a master-servant team when the need arises. Otherwise she's Gil's personal mongrel. I think one of my favorite crossovers had to be in Magic The Gathering where she's an apprentice to Sorin Markov. 

So yes, I do love writing for her, so much. 

5. what’s your favorite thing about them?

My favorite thing about Kiomi is her personality. Specially now that I can play on the complication of her emotions. 

The best thing that ever happened to her was the fact that she made bonds that she didn't want to lose while knowing for a fact that her the friends that she made belonged to the enemy side. That gave her a lot of things to think about. Decisions of whether she throws away years of loyalty for something new is something I enjoy playing out. Although eventually I know where she returns and whom she returns to, depending on how much she grows attached to the other muse and how willing both parties are to make it canon, that's the only time that it may change.

The good thing about the Next Gen setting is that Otogakure has better relations with Konoha...at least compared to when the entire Naruto series began. This allows Kiomi to have a little freedom in terms of socializing with the little friends that she actually made. 

Love's an aspect that I want to explore, but yeaaah. That's hard for her because she dislikes the notion very much. Although I'm sure that if the right person comes along, the possibility of her opening up and feeling for the other person still exists. As much as there's an RP outside tumblr where she does love someone. I do have her as a mutli-ship so basically all bonds are different per verse. 

One of my other favorite thing is that she works well with people she hates. It's really funny because I find that-- for starters, Kiomi dislikes Sasuke with a passion. This is pretty much a classic case of Genius vs Hard Work. Sasuke's pretty much a stark reminder of everything that she wants. He's chosen by Orochimaru, he's strong and talented, he's a cut above the rest, for sure. All her hard work gets blown out of the water along with her desire to be the vessel because a favorite exists. But above all, she's actually pretty jealous that he still has a family in the form of his brother. But yes, she hates him so much, but apparently whenever I roleplay with Sasuke's they seem to have certain areas for synergy. Mainly because Kiomi will prevent him from getting killed (that's her job). So she'll help him out, tend to his wounds, spar with him, etc. So there's a certain dynamic there which I enjoy. That's why, to be fairly honest, Sasuke interactions is probably one of my favorites because the rawness of Kiomi's feelings come out. And I really love the fact that I can make this hate canon so easily because she doesn’t need an initial validation from him. She can just hate him on her own until such a time when they meet. It’s great because the more he ignores her, the more she gets pissed off, the more she works harder. Even up to Next Gen, Sasuke’s still her goal, albeit with decreased animosity. *Cough*Frenemies Please*Cough*

( Here’s an ugly doodle from ten years ago.)

It's a freaking meme for me, but I love how she gets into a fight with every Katon user she meets. She didn't get Katon'd, sure, but her worst run in was probably with an Itachi who Tsukuyomi'd her. That was really fun to play out but stressful. They became associates after. xD 

Also, her awful way of phrasing some things. Sometimes, when she has a hard time of expressing herself, she ends up blurting things that's easy to misinterpret. It's pretty funny, all the trouble it causes. 

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ♛

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Y/N, a fiery, new Avenger with the fighting prowess of Black Widow herself, and Bucky Barnes, a stubborn, ex-soldier with the demons and strength to prove it, don’t exactly get along, despite their many similarities. The two of them make it their mission to win against the other, making everything between them a competition. A sparring match gone awry and a midnight dip in the pool changes all of that. Let the games begin.

A/N: since the last Bucky fic I wrote did so well and I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately :( I decided to write what I’m familiar with, and I just had the pleasure of watching Bohemian Rhapsody in theaters (GO WATCH IT IT’S SPECTACULAR) and it’s caused a stroke of inspiration XD please enjoy this little story of my favorite smol winter bean even if it’s a flipping mess and lemme know what you think and if ya want more 

Warnings: mega fluff, a sparring match with violence ensues, sexual tension to the max, language

You clutch your gym bag to your side, slung over your shoulder haphazardly with little regard for style. The tank top you threw on clings comfortably to your waist, followed by a slipped on pair of athletic leggings that leave little of your curves to the imagination of your teammates. But at the moment, that’s the least of your worries, that, on the other hand, is running into James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the human version of a paper cut. He’s stubborn, insistent, irritatingly charming and annoyingly good-looking, making it damn near impossible to muster up the strength to be angry with him (but you find a way anyway). He also has the sole purpose of teasing you to hell and back. Ever since the first day here, you’ve been at each other’s throats. And to this day, you still have no idea why.

You like to think it’s just a game, that you’re both only joking, but sometimes he’ll say things and the look on his face tells you otherwise. That perhaps you’ve gone too far. 

Then, proving your point, while passing you, he knocks his broad shoulder against yours in the narrow hall. You frown and kick your leg out, tripping him in the process, watching as he barely catches himself, struggling to stand up straight until using the wall to steady himself. He chuckles darkly, blowing hair out of his eyes.

You narrow your eyes at the Winter Soldier, “Do you do this to all the women you work with or am I just lucky?”

“Good morning to you too, doll,” he says gruffly as he helps himself up and dusts off his deep gray joggers, his own tank clinging to his muscles, the wind having been knocked out of him.

You pry your eyes away from him and tuck hair behind your ear, shaking your head, “It certainly was,” you drink in the frustration in his eyes cerulean eyes.

“You’re a real piece of work, Y/L/N,” he sighs, glancing at you with an amused expression, the conflict behind his eyes warring when you look back at him.

You grab him by the front of his shirt, crumbling the cotton material in your fist, his smirk only an inch away from your own lips and he lets you do it. “Then next time you’re walking down this hall, watch where you’re going and don’t knock into me. Or get it through your head that I’ll do it back.”

He shakes his head with a low laugh, looming over you, “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day and no one will be there to save you.”

“Is that a threat?”

His lips twitch, “No, doll, it’s a warning.”

You let go of his shirt and push him back, the tempting look in his eyes frightens you, “It keeps you away, doesn’t it? Me running my mouth,” his resolve flickers. “I’m also more than capable of saving myself, I don’t run away from my problems.”

He rolls his eyes and frowns, “And you’re suggesting I do?”

“I thought I made that clear,” you tilt your head, toe to toe with the man.

“Oh, you did, I was just hoping I didn’t hear you correctly.”

“I have read that hearing deteriorates first when it comes to men of your age.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Are you calling me elderly, Y/N?”

You look him over, enjoying this far too much when you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, “If the denture fits.”

He snorts. “Funny,” he glances furtively at your mouth, how it curls at its edges. 

You laugh, enjoying this game of cat and mouse, the highlights of your day, you think, “I’d like to think so,” you smile before walking out of the hall and into gym, where the team trains every morning, leaving a confused Bucky to stew alone in the hall.

Steve sends you a smile when you enter the room and Tony’s shoots you a wink as you set down your things and watch patiently while Steve sets up the the boxing ring. It’s been awhile since the last match between any of you, but you wouldn’t mind throwing yourself back in, with the promise of high stakes of course. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

Natasha smirks when you look over at her, regretting your decision when you see her signature scarlet smile, “Morning, Y/N, where’s your boyfriend?”

You force a laugh when you begin wrapping a bandage over your knuckles, a genuine one escaping when you look to see Barnes coincidentally enter the room himself. Shit, “I don’t have a boyfriend, Nat,” you look up at your friend, holding your mouth tightly. “You know that.”

“Be careful,” Tony pats your shoulder affectionately. “If he hears you’re single, he won’t hesitate to throw his hat in the ring. Literally...”

“You’re not helping, Stark,” you elbow his side, not doing much damage when he catches your arm in his hand. You rip your arm back from his grasp and he pokes your nose. You scrunch your face.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he grins. “But you’re seriously adorable when you’re angry.”

Bucky smiles at that.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

Steve cracks a smile while setting up and hearing the teasing, he avoids your glare when you hear him. Bucky pretends stays in the dark as to what you’re all whispering not-so-covertly about, every so often looking over at you.

“What about that guy Nick who asked for your number at the bar yesterday? He seemed pretty interested in filling that position for you,” Nat brings up after a spell of silence and you look at her, knowing what she’s trying to do.

Bucky’s ears perk up, tightening his metal fist at the thought of it. He knows he has no right to be jealous or possessive over you, not after the way he’s treated you, but he can’t help it, anger he’s never experienced before. Then, before you can argue with Nat, Steve speaks up.

“Alright,” Steve starts. “Who wants a turn in the r-”

Your hand shoots up first, grinning excitedly, “I do.”

“You need a partner, hotshot,” he chuckles at your enthusiasm, an idea sparking when he locks eyes with both Nat and Tony, flashing a smile when he looks at you. “How about Bucky?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you laugh in disbelief, “You’re kidding... Right? You must be joking. Because if not, that serum has finally reached your brain and its messed up... something up there,” you shake your head.

“I’m not fighting a girl, Steve,” Bucky wraps his own bandage over his hand, chuckling deeply, resonating from his chest. Even if his jealousy was slowly growing and he wouldn’t mind a one on one with a punching bag, he’d never take it out on you. 

But something in you clicks when he says this, rubbing you the wrong way, “Because you’d lose,” you turn around, you simply couldn’t help yourself. If only you’d kept your mouth shut... 

He lifts an eyebrow, standing up straight with his arms folded over his broad chest, squaring his shoulders, “Is that right?”

“I guess we’ll never know, because we’re not doing it,” you look back at a smug Cap. Your blood boils when Bucky takes a step towards you and you stare him down, but it doesn’t do you much good. It’s consists more of staring up at him.

“It sounds to me, doll, like you’re the one who’s afraid you’ll lose,” he maintains a thoughtful expression, sizing you up. You furrow your brow.

“I just don’t want your pretty face to get hurt, that’s all, it is all you got going for you,” you tilt your chin up.

His eyes flash and you know you struck a nerve. He chuckles humorlessly, “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman,” he tells you. “Or I’d ask you to put your money where your mouth is. Since you always have so much to say.”

“A gentleman knows how to finish a fight, not start one,” you push your hands against his chest, sending him backwards after having enough. “So finish it.”

He looks at his chest and back at you, clenching his jaw, “Watch it, Y/N.”

“Come on, then,” you tell him, swinging your leg over the rings border and climbing inside. Steve and Tony share a worrisome look, wondering what they’ve started, Nat only leans forward, hoping to hear more. “Or are you going to keep running?” you throw over your shoulder.

It doesn’t take him long to ignore the inner turmoil creating in his gut. ducking under the border himself and stepping into the ring, commanding the attention of the room when he gets into his stance.

He swings the first punch, you duck under it and swing your leg out to send him on his back. You move to straddle him on the ground, but he’s back on his feet before the thought even crosses your mind, gripping your ankle when it flies towards his face. Your fist collides with his jaw, hitting just the corner of his mouth, he stumbles back, and he wipes at the cracked lip, staring in awe at the trickle of crimson staining his calloused finger.

Guilt settles in your stomach, and your form wavers, in your hesitation, his fist curls and the blow lands painfully into your shoulder. You grasp the sore area and fall back, catching yourself against the bordering ropes. The room goes silent, one giant, collective inhale of breath being the last thing you hear before Bucky’s face falls. He didn’t want to do this. To fight you, but here you are. You asked for it, you can’t back down now.

His chest heaves, his eyes full of guilt and fear, he gulps like he’s gasping for air, “Doll, I-”

You didn’t have time to freeze, to listen to what he’s saying. The punch only fuels your adrenaline and you flip him on his back, on top of him and straddling his waist. You throw a punch, aiming for the bridge of his nose, but he blocks it, taking your wrist in his to move you so you’re the one on your back. You ignore the heat rising to your face from being beneath him, caged under his muscular arms, holding himself above your frame with little to no effort. He could crush you if he wanted to, you wondered why he didn’t just finish it right here and now, that’s what you expected, after all. It does’t help that he smells so damn good.

“We can stop here and call it a tie,” he tells you, his cool, minty breath fanning over your flushed face, noses brushing whether you like it or not. You’d never admit to the former anyway. “I’m trying to help you, doll.”

You snort, “Don’t strain yourself,” you knee him in the groin and he topples over, unable to stand once again. You’re on your feet before him, declaring you the winner of the match. He went easy on you and you know it. Your chest rises and falls with each strenuous breath and you blow hair out from in front of your eyes, swinging your leg over the ropes again.

You couldn’t stand there and gloat, something you’d usually have no problem boating, to mess with him. But you’re still thinking about how you felt, when you were pinned beneath him, how your face burned, how your skin rubbed against his own, and how you still feel afterwards. But you hate him. You hate him.

Don’t you?

★★★

Bucky leans his back against the side of the rooftop pool atop the Avengers building, muscles aching from training, the cool water and night air relaxing him. He breathes slowly, hoping this isolation will help him forget the events of today, what he did. He hit you. You of all people. He never wanted to lay a hand on you, not only are you a woman, but you’re you. Not to mention the fact you can throw one hell of a punch as well, his split lip a consequence of that, his thumb brushing over it when it comes to mind.

His mind whirs, thinking about you, and his heart tightens in an unfamiliar, unspoken way. The same ache in his chest he’s felt since you got here, hoping if he’d ignore it and you, it’d make it all go away. But it’s only made the sensation worse, thinking back to having you underneath him, a dream he never thought would bloom into fruition. Just under different circumstances. If only he hadn’t have messed it up and pushed you away in the process, everyone in the room watching.

And that he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s absolutely enamored with you.

You slide open the door leading to the roof, a cover-up wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself. You turn to close it and look back to see Barnes in where you were hoping to find empty. You cross your arms over your chest and look on at him, haven’t had talked to him since this morning.

Thinking against starting a verbal altercation with him once again, you instead ask softly, “Mind if I join you?” voice lost in the wind.

He shakes his head, looking up at you, afraid his hoarse voice will give way to his emotions. Bucky attempts to avert his eyes when you drop the cover-up, revealing a red two piece decorated with cherries, the bottoms high waisted and fitted to your curved waist. Then his eyes are falling over you and he simply can’t look away. His eyes are glued to you and you want to fight him on it, say something, but you can’t either.

Bucky admires the way your y/s/c skin illuminates in the milky, effervescent moonlight, gaze flicking back up to meet your eyes when you catch him staring. You only smile and brush him off. You descend the steps inside and sit across the pool from him, the bruise on your shoulder on display, weighing on his conscious.

He’s the first to break the silence, “Doll... I-I’m sorry.”

Your eyes follow where his lay on your bruised shoulder, shaking your head, “Don’t be, was my fault. I pushed you to fight when you didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have. I’ll heal,” you offer him a sweet smile, an expression he treats as a gift, a rare sight to see, especially when it comes to him. Well, one he knows of.

He returns the smile halfheartedly, arms spread out on either side of him, gripping onto the edge of the hot tub. The tension is slowly simmering away into something new, crossing the line between love and hate, the air growing heavier by the heated second. You sigh and push yourself off the wall, if you were going to talk you at least need to be able to hear him. You wade to the halfway mark of the pool, treading water. 

Bucky’s hands grow clammy, watching you move. Just like you did in the ring, elegantly and deliberately with an endearingly awkward clumsiness he finds more attractive than he should. He forces himself to think about what’s changed since this morning, why he’s feeling these things now. Then you look at him and it answers his question.

You run a hand through your wet tendrils of hair, fighting back a satisfied smirk, “Why the long face, Barnes?”

He leans forward, sitting up straighter on his ledge, enough to make droplets of water roll down his torso and catch your eye, finally coming out with it, “Why do you hate me?”.

You’re taken aback by his sudden question and you’re brutally aware of what your answer will do to the complicated relationship between you two. You run a hand through your hair and sigh, standing up, “I could ask you the same question.”

Bucky pulls his brow together, getting off the wall, “If I hate you? You think I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you laugh, humorless and forced, you hope he’s joking. “You’ve made it your mission to tease and insult me since the moment I got here, you purposely bumped into me in the hall this morning as you do most days.” Getting so frustrated with him, you splash water at his face, earning a petty one back from him.

He runs his hands down his face, “Are you serious?” he looks at you, blinking hard like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Bucky, why else would you purposely run into me in the hallway? Or punch me in the fucking shoulder!”

He laughs loudly, slicking his long hair back and looking towards the sky as if he’d find the answer to his internal question written in starlight, “You told me to fight you. And I apologized immediately after because I never wanted to do it in the first place! You’re also the one that punched me in the jaw and split my lip first... Come on, dollface, you’re tougher than that. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you-”

“So was that your plan? Teasing me constantly, everyday, to prove I’m tougher than I look?” you snort and his face flushes red when you tug your lip between your teeth. “Mission accomplished then, Barnes, I know now. Satisfied?” 

He sighs, chuckling, “When did flirting with a dame become so damn challenging?” He smiles sadly, “Maybe I am old.”

You watch as his eyes fall on your lips even at this distance from one another and you, painfully so, do the same.

Stunned, your lips part slightly, sending him a silent, tantalizing invitation to wipe this confused look off your face and answer your question. By any extreme means possible. He groans aloud at the tempting pout of your baby pink lips, taking you by the hand to pull you to his chest, wet skin flushed together.

His calloused hands move up to cup your jaw, tilting your face towards him, he presses his desperate lips feverishly against your own, lighting your skin aflame. He kisses tentatively as if he’s walking into the home of an old friend and afraid he’s arrived too late, thumb brushing the ghost of a heart over your cheek. His plush lips taste of salt water and scotch liquor, tongue laced with smooth butterscotch candy he stole from your bedroom. And suddenly you’re craving the sweetness, too. Your arms fall helplessly to his chest, listening to the lullaby of Bucky’s slowly rising heartbeat, humming pleasantly at the thought that that’s of your doing. A whimper escapes your shaky lips when his tongue slips in your mouth just as his hands wander to grip your thighs beneath the water, hoisting you up. He eases your legs to wrap around his waist and hold on.

Both of you break away at once, swollen, pink lips still brushing with the sworn promise of meeting again, nudging your nose against his when you exhale. Your eyes flutter closed again, paired with a simple, soft smile, muttering quietly, “...Oh.” 

He cracks a smile, kissing just below your mouth, muttering a silent love letter in your skin, “Maybe if you didn’t ramble so much, you’d have been silent long enough for me to do this.”

“Screw you.”

His stormy eyes darken, complementing nicely with his seductive grin, “Maybe later, doll.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his awaiting lips with your own, wrapping your arms wantonly around his neck, a gesture he eagerly returns with a squeeze of your ass. You gasp into the kiss, The man is a human radiator, exuding heat, in his touch, in his kiss, in his skin, warming your body from the inside out. 

Bucky buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing you in the spot sure to make you squirm in his touch. Then he stops, something coming over him when he moves up to lean his forehead against your own, meeting your lust blown eyes.

His face burns under your expectant gaze, cursing himself for not doing this sooner, “Are we... are we really doing this?” he says when you place a calculated kiss underneath his jaw, letting your tongue trace his hot skin, only fueling the fire before whispering,

“Meet me inside in ten minutes and find out.”