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occatorcreator · 5 months ago

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Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

5 - Difficult Reconciliation

After the fight, Purple just wishes to forget everything about his old friends. Easier said than done when all he finds is reminders of them everywhere and he's lonelier then ever. Perhaps there is still time to reconcile?

The first thing Purple did when he got home was destroy the portal frame. If they had decided to break it off, then he did not want them back for any surprise visits.

He blocked their number too, once they began bombarding him with texts.

The villagers watched on as he stomped about in rage, like a stick figure possessed, and gave him a wide berth. Purple made avoiding him easier for them by digging straight down into the desktop until he hit the mines, wanting monsters to fight.

Instead, he landed on the tracks of Yellow’s roller coaster. He remembered how excited Yellow was to show them all their elaborate coaster, practically shoving Purple in the front seat in their excitement. The utter joy on everyone’s faces burned in his memory.

Purple kicked a track piece so hard it reverted it back into an item, and he tore off into a random direction in the caves, far from Yellow’s memory.

Once he got his mindless slaughter out of his system, he returned to the surface with more gunpowder, rotten flesh, and bones than he really knew what to do with. He climbed up towards the castle, wishing to return these kills in his chest and to flop on his bed. Yet everywhere he looked around, he saw those little added touches to his village: the lovely rebuilt tower Green decorated, the redstone elevators Yellow set up for the villagers, the lush farms and animal pens Blue and Red took care of…

“Remove it,” Purple said to the villagers in his throne room many days later.

“Remove it?” A villager asked, “but why? Lord Purple, what happened?”

“Do you question your Lord?” Purple snapped. “I said to remove it.”

The villagers turned to mutter to each other, not doing as he ordered them, and he felt his anger rising.

“I said to remove it all!” Purple snapped. “Everything that they crafted is polluting our village!”

“But, your friends made these gifts for us…”

“They’re not my friends anymore! They abandoned us,” Purple said, reveling in the shocked gasps of the crowd. “I no longer wish to be associated with them. And if they dare set foot in the village, detain them.”

“But, why would they abandon you?” Another villager asked, several more chimed in in disbelief. “Purple, surely, we could speak with them!”

“That’s Lord Purple to you, and there is nothing left to discuss!” Purple snapped, standing up sharply, “I’m going out on a supply run, and if I don't find everything removed by the time I get back, then I will be sentencing people to exile!”

He marched past the crowds and back into the mines again. He longed to go to the nether, but he couldn’t risk making a portal now, just in case the others come entering the portal later.

Not like they haven’t tried making their own, Purple thought, they have the means to, yet they never tried. I guess that shows that they didn’t really care.

He wondered if Minecraft had other places to portal to, take him somewhere that didn’t have any connections to his former friends. He’d need to research it, but the thought of researching felt taxing at the moment.

When he surfaced with diamonds, he discovered that the villagers honored his request and had removed all the additions the gang had made.

“We did as you ordered, my lord,” the villager said, though they did not hide their displeasure from him. “Is it to your liking now?”

No, Purple thought with a heavy heart, I don’t get it. Seeing it hurt… but seeing it all stripped away…

“It’s satisfactory,” he bit out, trying to sound pleased, “I’ll be in my room now.”

He lay in bed, staring at his ceiling and finding no rest. He could hear the phantoms screeching outside…

“Purple, I got an email from someone named Alan Becker,” Alana asked on the rare day she checked in, “He was asking if you were doing okay?”

While the number was blocked, there were other ways to contact the computer he was on. Purple wondered if the Animator actually sent something or if it was Green or Yellow instead.

“I’m fine,” Purple lied as he wrote.

“Are you and your friends getting along?” Alana typed, “He asked if you could go to their computer to chat.”

“Some other time,” Purple said, not wanting to admit to Alana of his loss of his friends. “I’m busy.”

“If you say so…”

“Also! Don’t open any attachments from him?” Purple added, “stick figures sometimes try to sneak on and… that can be dangerous.”

“Ok? I guess I’ll tell him to triple check before he sends,” Alana typed and then left.

After that, Purple didn’t hear much activity from them. He focused on researching other dimensions in Minecraft. There was a place called ‘The End’ and there was a final boss to fight, a dragon. He went to work prepping a way to go to the End and fight the dragon, desiring to take its coveted egg as a prize. Yet, despite his new goal to distract him, he found it a chore to prepare for it. Minecraft lost its luster without looking forward to what challenge Green came up with or what exploit Yellow would find in the code or Red’s humorous attempts of acrobatics or Blue’s rather bizarre, yet creative use of potions…

The prospect of fighting the dragon all by himself left him feeling adrift.

“Is this what you felt, mom, when dad left?” He asked out loud one day, when he was the most alone. The villagers have been keeping their distance from him ever since they tore down the village’s amenities, and he found himself equally detached from the cold place his village became. All he had left was himself to talk to.

“There were ups and downs,” he admitted, “it was the longest I ever had friends. With people that chose to be with me…”

He felt his eyes burn, but he refused to cry. He wouldn’t be like Orchid, sobbing after Navy when he marched out the door.

“I guess that is it then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Purple gasped at the memory, for the last words Navy ever said to them sounded painfully familiar.

“No…” Purple muttered, shaking his head in realization, “that– Was this how dad felt? Because he walked away… I walked away… I even repeated what he said…”

He never considered how his father felt that day. He didn’t want to because how could Navy’s feelings matter more than his mother’s tears and his own grief. Yet suddenly, in that moment, he realized that, perhaps, Navy was just as frustrated and hurt like Purple was towards his own friends. Perhaps he was frustrated that the relationships with his wife and kid were not going how it should have, that he could have felt lost as he became unable to connect with Purple or Orchid.

Purple wondered if Navy chose to walk away and never look back because he couldn’t handle the heartbreak. Did Navy ever miss Purple, despite being the one to walk away, just like how Purple missed his old friends?

“What have I done?” Purple whispered, the tears he suppressed were free falling, “Mom, I wish you were here. I still don’t know if what I’m doing is the right option. I felt awful, but…”

Should he reach out to them? Could he rebuild the village? Or was it too late?

Purple was scared. He just sat there paralyzed.

No, do the thing Navy couldn’t do, he told himself, reach out to them.

He took out his phone and unblocked the number.

‘hey it’s me. i needed some time to process and im sorry. for walking out like i did. if you guys still want to talk it out, could you come to my computer?’

He then shoved it back in his pocket and waited for a response. He waited, he paced, he waited some more. When he could no longer bear to, he checked the group chat. It was on read, but there was no response. Even after the next day, and the day after that. None of them reached out.

His heart broke to pieces. He was too late.

Then again, if Navy texted me out of the blue, Purple thought, arms going limp to his side, I don’t think I would want to respond either.

Purple was geared up. He built the ender frames beneath his castle, hidden by a redstone door. He had all the supplies, enchantments, and potions to help him with his fight.

His goal was to kill the dragon, grab its egg and… well, he hadn’t figured out what to do with step three yet. All the egg would be would be bragging rights.

Bragging rights to who? To the villagers who hate you? He thought, to your nonexistent friends?

He took a breath and bade his villagers goodbye. He heard the end dimension was vast so he would be gone for longer than usual.

He approached his redstone door and raised his fist to knock--

“Let go of us!”

Green? Purple stopped and turned around.

“It’s us! Green and Blue!” Blue shouted. “Why are you grabbing us?”

Purple raced over to see the villagers grabbing at them.

“Wait! Let them go!” he demanded.

The villagers and stick figures stopped in their struggles and looked at Purple in shock and confusion. “My Lord, what about your orders?”

“Orders?” Green demanded.

“I changed my mind,” Purple said, “Let them go.”

And with that the villagers let them go, causing them to drop on the floor. Green and Blue pushed themselves up and dusted off the grime. Purple could feel his heart hammering wildly, though he kept a calm expression.

“I didn’t expect you to be back,” Purple said after a moment.

“We got your text a while back,” Blue said.

“You took a while,” Purple said, “I thought you didn’t want to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Green snapped. “You ghosted us for weeks and now you want to talk? You know we could have returned it in kind.”

“Green, please,” Blue said, before Purple could open his mouth, “remember what I said? We’re here to talk, not fight.”

“Where are Red and Yellow?” Purple asked.

Green and Blue shrugged. “I remember seeing them chilling on our web page last I checked,” Blue said.

“Yeah, and I caught her,” Green jabbed a finger at Blue, “building a portal to get to you. Without telling us!”

“If you didn’t want to come, you could have stayed back at the desktop,” Blue huffed.

“I didn’t want to see you get into trouble,” Green said, crossing his arms.

Already this was a messy start. Only Blue came to reach out?

“I wish everyone was here,” Purple said, shuffling his feet, “I need to talk to you all… about my behavior that day.”

To that he saw Green and Blue’s shoulders droop, if only slightly. Blue appeared the most saddened while Green’s expression was eerily cold.

“It hurt, you know,” Blue confessed.

“I know,” Purple said.

“We missed you,” Blue said, “We all did.”

Purple couldn’t help himself, bitterness let out. “It didn’t feel like you did to me.”

Green turned around sharply, moving to leave but Blue grabbed his arm and halted him. He resisted only a bit against her grasp, but he had no fight in him.

“Doesn’t feel like you missed us either!” Green snapped, voice warbling, “I almost wanted to rush here the moment I saw that text, but I didn’t know how it would go! And now that I have, I see–” he looked helplessly around, “–everything is different! You really removed everything we built here?”

Purple cringed, unable to say anything to that observation.

His silence only caused Green to hang his head in disappointment. “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come, Blue,” Green said, ripping his arm out of her grasp.

“Wait, please,” Purple reached his arm out. “I really want to talk to all of you. I made some bad decisions when I left, and you all need to hear it. Blue, can you reach out to Red and Yellow? Ask them to come here?”

“And we’ll talk it out?” Blue asked.

“I will. Promise.” Purple said, crossing his heart.

There was tension, both looking to Green for a response. Green still had his back turned away from them. Then he sighed and pulled his phone to text something.

“They’re not answering yet. Yellow’s laptop probably isn’t nearby,” Green said, “it’ll be awhile.”

So they needed to wait, which would be awkward with just the three of them standing here. Purple looked at the door he was about to enter.

“Say, I guess until they text us back, do you want to do something with me?”

Green shot Purple a weary look while Blue shuffled, unsure.

“What did you have in mind?” Blue asked.

Maybe fighting a dragon boss should have waited after the talk. Turns out trying to fight while you were recovering from one with your party made fighting in a coordinated fashion impossible. Somehow, Green ended up on top of the dragon and was steering it off into the void, while Blue and Purple hung by a fishing rod beneath it.

Purple could see that the egg had spawned once the dragon was out of bounds.

Great! We just need to somehow fly back, grab it, and close that portal! Purple thought. But how do we–

SMACK

Purple and Blue hit the mast of a hovering ship. How convenient! Blue quickly discovered the switch to pilot the ship and pursue the dragon, while Purple found the elytra wings in the hull after dodging a shukler’s attack.

“Purple, help me tie the rod to the boat!” Blue shouted.

“On it!” Purple ran up and helped Blue tug the fishing rod around the mast.

“I’m going to reverse it and keep the dragon from those pillars,” Blue said, yanking the lever back.

“Right, then I can get the egg with these on,” Purple said, flapping the wings on his back.

Blue frowned, looking upward at Green and the dragon. “But what about-”

Blue didn’t get to finish her statement before Green was sent down careening into Blue’s arms.

“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing his head.

“Okay, I’m going!” Purple said.

He made it a point to not look down in the void below. If the wings didn’t work, he’d know for certain. He’d rather not psyche himself out. He leapt off the ship, the wind roaring in his ears as he flew across the void towards the End Island.

Yes! It’s working! Purple grinned at the way the wings swooped. That egg is mine!

“Purple!”

Blue’s distressed scream paused Purple in his flight. His wings flapped wildly, trying to stabilize as the dragon swooped right above his head, untethered.

The dragon’s free? What happened to the boat?

There was no boat, somehow it was all gone. Only Blue and Green remained, floating and clinging to each other for dear life.

“Please help!” Blue yelled, “We don’t have much time!”

Time seemed to slow down, and in that split second, Purple entertained the thought of leaving them to grab the egg. If he didn’t, then the dragon would guard the entrance, possibly killing all three of them. Besides, death wasn’t permanent in Minecraft, they’d just respawn…

But that would require turning his back on them. If he chose the egg over them, then he’d be telling them that their friendship is truly over. There would be no apology, there would be no reconciliation.

Really, there is only one right option, Purple thought.

He dove after them.

Time resumed as normal and he saw them drop suddenly. He went down and clasped Green’s outstretched hand. Green and Blue smiled up at him in relief, but then the moment the effect wore off and their weight dragged him down. Purple tried to flap his wings, but it was clear that it couldn’t handle the weight of three stick figures without any momentum.

No, no, no! Purple strained as they fell down towards the void below. Not like this! Not like this!

Then, suddenly, he felt hands clasp his ankles, and they stopped with a painful jerk. The sudden stop almost had Purple drop Green and Blue, and he dug his nails into Green’s arms in his panic.

“Good catch, Red!” Blue shouted.

“You are so lucky we were able to reach you!” Red said, with a strained voice.

Purple craned his neck back. He couldn’t see well, but he saw Red was holding him by his feet, while Yellow held her by her torso.

Is that the entire village? Purple thought, noticing a long chain of villagers holding Yellow and on to each other. The whole village saved them from certain death.

“Pull us up!” Purple didn’t bother to mask his panic. “Hurry, hurry! I can’t hold them much longer!”

They were quick to heed his warning, pulling them out from the gaping void that called them below. Upon meeting the obsidian stone, Purple plopped face down on its surface, gasping for breath. He did not let go of Green’s arm, even now that Green and Blue were safe.

“Oh, cursors! Are you all okay?” Yellow asked, picking Blue up to her feet.

“Yeah, shaky, but not hurt,” Blue said.

“I’m glad Yellow checked his laptop,” Red helped Green to his feet. “We might not have made it.”

“Thanks for the help,” Green said. As he stood, he lifted Purple to his feet. He looked at Purple, relief without his guarded expression from earlier. “You too. You saved us!”

“Hardly, I couldn’t even lift you,” Purple said, shaking his head.

“Nah, it was good that you grabbed them!” Yellow said, “I think if you didn't, we wouldn’t be able to reach them when they fell.”

That made Purple feel all the more shakier. Because he could see where he did that, leaving them behind...

“Well, now that you’re all here, I wanted to say–”

The dragon let out a bellowing roar, halting any attempts of starting his apology. The dragon was perched around the portal, guarding its egg. The villagers were starting to sweat, ill equipped to handle a dragon.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” Blue said, “We need to get everyone else out and the dragon is blocking the way.”

“What do we do?” Yellow asked, pulling out their sword, “You have any plans?”

“We tried steering it away from here and doing some damage,” Green said, “but those crystals heal it.”

“Are you unable to break them?” Red asked.

There was a beat of silence and Green let out a beleaguered sigh. “No, we didn’t even try to break them.”

“Look, our main goal is to leave,” Purple said, “We need to get the dragon distracted and that’s easier said than done with it guarding its egg.” He snapped his fingers, “If we move the egg, then surely the dragon would move out of the way!”

“So, we need to somehow grab the egg and play keep-away long enough for everyone to go back home?” Yellow said.

“Yeah. Yellow and Red, you focus on getting the villagers back in the portal,” Purple said, “Green, you and I will play keep away with the egg, while Blue can take out the crystals with her bow. Does that sound good?”

This wasn’t Purple’s first time sharing a plan of his, but it was after their break up. He really didn’t expect to see the determination and trust in their gazes as they acknowledged his plan.

“I’ll follow your lead,” Green said.

And, with that, Purple climbed up to a nearby tower while Green and the others waved and distracted the dragon on the ground. Once its head turned, exposing the egg, Purple flew down to grab at it, only for it to vanish upon contact.

“Wha? Where did it go?”

No one had time to answer him as the dragon knocked Purple across the island. The dragon too was moving about frantically, looking for the disappeared egg. Its large feet and tail made the ground tremble and crushed several endermen in the process. When it found nothing but angry endermen biting its heels, it took up to the sky flapping around and looking down from an aerial view.

“Now’s your opportunity! Go!” Purple called to the villagers, wheezing as he stood up. While Red and Yellow focused on getting the villagers through to the portal, he kept his eyes up at the soaring dragon.

“Found the egg!” Green called.

“Wait, don’t touch it!“

But Green already grabbed it, and the egg ended up teleporting right into the path of a villager and tripping them. The dragon swooped down, its breath swirling in its jaws.

“Nevermind! Touch it! Get it away!” Purple screamed, running towards the egg.

Red was closer and touched it. The egg vanished, but the dragon was already sending out its breath attack. Purple was sure that he would see the villager and Red both burn before him.

Kaboom!

An explosion rang from above and the dragon flinched in pain, changing the course of its attack and narrowly missing Red and the villager. Blue had moved closer to the center, firing down the crystals with quick precision. Every healing beam that exploded caused the dragon to flinch in pain.

“Thanks, Blue!” Purple said, helping Red hustle the villager back in the portal.

“That’s everyone!” Yellow shouted.

“Get in! We’ll follow!” Purple said, shoving Red right in the portal.

Red opened her mouth, about to argue, only to disappear as her leg touched the portal.

“Gah- uh- alright?” Yellow looked from the portal to Purple before following after Red.

Purple turned, seeing Green and Blue surrounded by the dragon’s breath. The dragon had landed before them and was swiping at them with its claws.

No! They won’t be able to dodge for long! Purple thought and looked around for the egg. Luckily, he found it by a pillar further away from Green and Blue. Purple raced next to it and pulled out his bow.

“Hey, ugly!” Purple yelled as he fired an arrow at the dragon. It landed its target and caused the dragon to turn to Purple. It let out a fearsome growl as it saw Purple by its egg and armed with a flint and steel. “Stay away my friends or else the egg gets poached!”

The dragon roared again, charging down at Purple, breath streaming.

“Purple!” Green cried, “No!”

“Run to the portal, you fools! Go!” Purple snapped, turning heel as he ran away from the dragon too. “I’ll see you at my castle!”

He meant it, but he was too slow to run to the portal; the dragon fired its breath and consumed him. The burning stung painfully, but without any armor, death found Purple quickly.

Death in a game was like a blink. There was pain, confusion, the moment where things were still before resuming at a bed like it was all a dream. He hated it, for that moment in between death and respawning, he was in the void of falling petals.

So stupid! He closed his eyes. Did I make the right call?

A petal touched his head, and Purple swore it felt like a hand petting his head.

“Don’t keep your loved ones waiting.”

“Mom?” Purple said, opening his eyes. But he was back in his bed. Items were gone, and so was the pain.

Quickly, he sprung out and raced back to where his portal was. He had to make sure, did Green and Blue make it?

There was a large crowd before him, Red and Yellow towering over them all. Purple craned his neck and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Green and Blue with them.

“You made it!” Purple couldn’t help but smile. “You all made it out!”

Everyone turned around to Purple, silence falling amongst everyone as they stared in shock. Then, with a burst of speed Green raced up and tackled Purple in a tight hug. Blue, Yellow, and Red joined in, causing everyone to fall on the ground with a thud.

“You're okay! You’re okay!” Blue sobbed.

“Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself like that again!” Green yelled, and sure enough, Purple could feel his tears wiped in his shoulders.

“You absolute mad lad!” Yellow croaked. “You saved everyone from a dragon!”

“Y-yeah, erm,” Purple was overwhelmed by their hugs. “Could you stop crushing me? It might kill me again.”

The pressure was relieved as Purple was pulled to his feet. Their hands didn’t leave him, rubbing his back and arms, as if to assure themselves nothing was wounded or broken.

“That was so scary,” Red said, “Thank goodness for respawns!”

“Yeah,” Purple looked around, seeing his villagers crowding around as well, looking to see if Purple was okay through the stick figures surrounding him.

“To Lord Purple!” A villager exclaimed.

“To Lord Purple!” The chorus of voices joined in.

The warmth in their voices that he thought lost returned. Purple felt like crying himself.

“So, since everyone is here, can we talk?” Purple eyed his villagers. “Alone?”

They were in his room. Purple set up some logs for them to sit on. Now that the adrenaline wore off, the atmosphere felt awkward again. Red’s leg was bouncing, and Yellow shifted in their seat nervously. Blue was slumped in her seat, exhausted, while Green was still as stone.

No one looked each other in the eye.

“I guess I’ll start,” Purple said, “I am terrible with apologies, but you guys needed better than me just… walking out.”

He paused, in case any of them had a question. Instead, they watched, quietly awaiting his response.

“I… I want to explain something. I was… jealous of your friendship with Orange,” Purple admitted. It was stilted, finding the words felt like pulling barbed wires from his chest. How it tore his heart. “Yellow told me that they were someone you’ve met before you met me. They were important to you. So when you guys started to hang out with them more often, it felt like I was being ignored.”

Red raised her hand, for once not jumping in like usual. When Purple nodded at her, she asked quietly. “I know I asked this last time, but this is a genuine question: why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“Look, ever since I was a child, I found it hard to make friends,” Purple admitted, “We moved a lot, and I guess I never learned how to? When I had no clue, I tried to be someone others would like: took on their interests, gave them gifts… but, over time, we ended up disagreeing or I messed up– no, I couldn’t keep pretending to be what they wanted, and we fell out.” He looked at them all with an earnest expression. “You four were the first friends that stuck around me for so long. The first time I didn’t feel like I was pretending.

“But old habits die hard,” Purple said, gulping, “It’s still hard for me to explain how I feel, because I never say it right. Or my friends hate what I say. It’s easier to avoid. Easier to pretend that I didn’t need you when I felt like I was just the replacement, the second best option to your ‘real’ friend.”

“Purple, no…” Blue was wiping tears away.

“I'm sorry.” Purple sniffed. He held his tears back. “You don’t know how much I regretted cutting you out. I feel rotten for blowing up like that, and I still feel jealous of Orange! So I don’t know if we can be friends after that… I don’t know how to fix this…”

He sniffed again, falling silent. He closed his eyes, awaiting his judgment.

“I’m sorry too,” Green said.

“What?” Purple asked.

“I’m sorry too, because it’s not your fault,” Green said, jawing wiggling, “We noticed you were acting off, but we should have asked. We shouldn’t have neglected you when we met up with Orange again. Because you have always been our friend.”

“We missed you so much,” Yellow said. Purple never saw Yellow cry, even now, but his head was low and eyes glimmering. “We realized we took you for granted. The amount of times I had to stop a redstone project because I thought about how I’d like to show it to you… only to realize you wouldn’t even want to see it and didn’t want to see me, us.” He looked up at Purple. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder to reach out to you.”

“I’m sorry, too, for our neglect,” Blue said, struggling to speak, “For us blaming you for how you felt rather than working something out.”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t tell you how much we love you,” Red said, “Because, Purple, even when we thought you didn’t want to see us again, we still loved you.”

“You still… love me?” Purple said. Now the tears were free flowing.

“Can we still be friends?” Green asked, standing up, “We all want to do better for you.”

Purple was heaving, overwhelmed by sheer relief that he couldn’t speak.

So he went up and held Green in a hug. He felt the others reach out and hold him too in a much gentler embrace then before.

Purple confessed after a while. “I love you guys too.”

#occatorart #alan becker #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #ava purple #ava red #ava green #ava blue #ava yellow #second family au

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harveywritings92 · 4 years ago

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BNHA vampire soulmate scenario: you see them again/ they introduce themselves.

They find you and don't leave you alone.

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Dabi: It had been almost a month since the 7/11 incident, Dabi kept his distance watching and protecting you from the shadows, That all change today, he was watching your house from the old abandoned grocery store-across the road from your bar (your house is on top of the bar). He noticed you haven't step outside for almost two days, Dabi frowned as he step out of his hideout and as soon as he got close enough to your home his nose scrunched up as he was hit by a fowl stench: he made a disgusted noise... it was like mix of rotten milk and cantaloupe...

You were sick! but that wouldn't explain your lack of activity...unless- Dabi felt his stomach drop into his feet he checked the gargoyle you keep by the door for your spare key, he unlocked the door and walked inside your house and found you passed out on the floor at the bottom of your stairs! he rush over crouched down to check on you... he put his hand on your neck, Fuck your skin was like a furnace. "What the fuck do I do?" he hissed picking you up of the floor and putting you on the couch in your living room.

You wheezed in protest feeling your body being lifted away from the nice cold floor, your eyes opened straining to see who had moved you? but all you could see was a black and purple blob looking down at you; before moving away from sight as your overheated mind tried to comprehend what was happening, Who was that? How did they get in... but soon you drifted back into unconsciousness, and felt something cold on the back of your head...

You woke up disoriented and very confuse you looked around and you were still in your Livingroom... with half melted bag of frozen carrots resting behind your neck and another bag of frozen corn shoved down your shirt, which bewildered you the last thing you remembered was trying to crawl upstairs and go to your room, than nothing. You heard someone clear their throat and looked next to you to find a man who looked like a ragdoll was sitting in your recliner watching you...

"Who the fuc-" you croaked only for the guy to thrust a yellow pill and a glass of water towards you. "Take this first.." he muttered as you eyed the pill suspiciously "patchy" rolled his eyes at your wariness. "It's just Tylenol." he put the glass on the coffee table and showed you the box, "If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn't I have done it already?" he stated as you hesitantly took the pill and the water from him and swallowed it trying not to gag as it went down your throat. "Who are you?" you hissed voice still hoarse trying not to show fear, which was in vain as Patchy's cerulean eyes lit up in amusement seeing through your bluff. "I have several names, but these days I go by Dabi." he said waiting for your reaction but, to his utter astonishment you clearly had no idea who he was... "ok..."Dabi" How did you get into my house?" you huffed as Dabi gave you this unimpressed look.

"Y'know the whole reason for hiding a key, is to not make it obvious."

"What are you talking about? What key?"

"Yeah, good one...the key under the gargoyle."

"...I don't keep a key under my gargoyle."

You say watching Dabi's expression shift to confusion as the scarred man pulled the the duplicate key from his pocket, he showed it to you and your stomach felt like it was full of rocks... that was definitely your house key!... But, it looked newer, shinier then the one in your purse. "You don't recognize this?" Dabi asked feeling your fear which caused his instincts go haywire wanting to remove whatever caused the distress, as you shook your head insisting you've never owned a spare key!

Dabi took a sharp breath through his nose, taking it in all the scents around the house before picking up faint traces of a another male... Dabi let out a low inhuman growl as he relaxed against into the recliner. "Good news doll, you gotta a new roommate." Your mouth opened to protest, but something in the deep crevices of your soul was telling you to trust the scarred man as he played around with the duplicate key. with a feral glint in his eye. "Bad news is... It's gonna suck for whoever the hell pissed me off." his purred flashing his fangs at you.

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

Hawks: You were at work it had been to weeks since Hawks showed up on your doorstep, let's just it didn't go so well... It was like in the movies you opened the door saw the blond vampire standing there, you gasped, screamed and fainted scaring the crap out of the poor guy! At the moment he was currently loitering outside the gym you were teaching at, he could hear some of your students parents talking about you.

"It's waste I tell you, someone with her Quirk should've gone pro!" A woman said in a snarky tone the man next to her nodded. " I agree. if I had a Quirk like L/n-san I would be saving lives and kicking ass, instead of teaching kids how to dog paddle!" Keigo growled looking up from his phone and spoke up.

"Yeah...She could've gone pro, but instead she's here teaching your kids not to drown..."

Both adults froze and saw the number 2 hero glowering at them his wings slightly puffed and raised making him look bigger, They sheepishly apologized and scurried off, Just as you walked out, with an unreadable expression it was obvious you had heard everything just now, but were relucted to say anything as the two of you started the routine of walking home together, you were still on the ropes about Hawks.

When he first showed up (after you woke up) you freaked out thinking he was there to to silence you and keep his secret, however after calming you down, he started going on about soulmates, blood-bonds and you being his other half, you were very reluctant to believe him after all... the first time you saw him, he was covered in blood feeding off a woman who looked half dead! Hawks seemed genuinely remorseful about you seeing that, it wasn't his intention to scare you, he explained how the woman was fine.

She wasn't dead like Y/n had thought! he just used his venom to put her into a state of ecstasy... she likely has no idea the winged blond had been drinking her blood, She was at home most likely believing she had a wild night with the number 2 hero. He even showed you the girl's social media account to prove it; There she was doing a bathroom selfie bragging about the wicked "hickey" Hawks had given her...

Now here you are a month later and the vampire hasn't left your side since! Well... Except for when he has to go on patrol, then he has one of his feathers following you, and you have this sinking suspicion that Hawks has been sleeping on your roof at night...though you're never sure, you could hear something rolling around up there but whatever it is, is usually gone by the time you go check it out, later that night Hawks texted you inviting you to dinner, you read the restaurant's name... Dang that's pretty swanky place, you didn't even know if you had a dress or whatever to wear! luckily in the far reaches of your closet you found an old black dress that seemed suitable enough for the job... and sighed. " I only wore this once, to a funeral..." you muttered before getting ready.

You wished you had taken a shot of whiskey before you left the house, you were a ball of shaking anxiety as you entered the restaurant, the hostess eyed you with a unpleasant sneer. "Can I help you?" she said in fake sweet tone. "Y-Y/n L/n, I-I'm here to meet a Mr. T.K.?" you stammered the hostess scrunched her nose as she gave you a once over snorted.

"I don't know how you found out about his reservation... but I can assure you the number 2 hero doesn't associate with your type." she with sneer your face would would've been flushed with anger if you weren't holding back every fiber in your body to slap that smug smile off that bitch's face. "Well can you go check?" you snapped standing up to your full height which threw the hostess off, she curt nod and walked off into the back...

(Hawks knew you were here he could smell you the second you walked in, his eyes briefly skimmed over the menu as he herd hostess approach, without you... "Sorry about that Hawks." the redhead cooed as the blonde looked at her bemused she snorted. "Some fake (h/c) slut tried to say you were waiting on her-" she continued talking as Keigo talked over her. " I am waiting for Y/n." he stated firmly as the hostess finished what she was saying. "Just let me ask my boss to let me off and we ca..." she trailed off and blinked not believing what she just heard.

"w-What?" she chortled thinking this was a joke as Hawks deadpanned repeating what he said. "I am waiting for Y/n, go get her." it wasn't request the hostess looked like a fish as she stared at the No. 2 slack-jawed. "Bu...You.. I- what about me?!" she sputtered lip quivering like a child who'd been denied candy, the winged man just eyed her incredulously making it clear he doesn't know her. "What are you talking about?" Hostess didn't answer she just stomped away to go get you.)

A few minutes later she came back all red in the face. "Please follow me ma'am." she huffed now it was your turn to be smug. "Oh?... But I thought the No. 2 hero didn’t associate with my type?" you hissed as she snapped her head up to look at you eyes her brown eyes filled with jealous rage and you realized....It was her. The girl from the park. "My apologies ma'am." she said with a forced cheery tone as she led you to a private booth where Hawks was waiting his wings stood up at full attention as you sat down.

"Hey did you have any trouble?" he asked nodded towards the front desk where the hostess was giving both of of you the stink-eye. "You don't recognize her?" you whispered as Keigo's brow furrowed as he tried to piece it together.... had.. they slept together?...Hmm no, signed her tits? that was a possibility, He hummed scratching his beard You could tell he was drawing blanks. "She's the woman from the night...when we met?" His gold eyes widened.

"Oh... the blood that tasted like charcoal and moldy bread." he grimaced in disgusted as he finally pieced it together you tilted your head as him bemused. "That’s what smoker's blood taste like...to me anyways, other Vamps have told me it varies." he stated you hummed nodding your head both intrigue and worried that you were getting use to this odd situation.

While you two were going over the menu, Keigo couldn't help but notice how off you were acting, you were fidgeting and looking around almost like you were...scared. why would you scared? all the other girls he'd brough.... Then it hit Keigo like ton of bricks.

He was treating you like one of his fans! and not his...hopefully soon to be lover, Dammit! He didn't even think about your comfort zones or asked if you wanted to go out and where did you want to go, he just assumed you would jump at the chance, because what girl doesn't want to go on a date with the number two hero?

After a few moments Keigo put the menu down. "Hey...wanna get out of here?" You were about to protest but the blond put his hand up. "Let me rephrase that; Do you want go somewhere else?" you shyly nodded Keigo called the waiter paid for the drink he had earlier and the two of you went on a very simple and impromptu park date involving pizza and an outdoor movie theater that Keigo had no idea existed; all in all he actually had fun!

And so did you given the joy and admiration he was sensing coming off you in waves. as opposed the fear and defensiveness you usually gave off around him, which made Hawks hopeful for the future... but for now he'll just settle on being friends, He smiled staring at the spare key you gave him, the blond let out a tiny churr feeling giddy as he fell asleep on your couch, as you caught him outside earlier.

…..Yes, he was totally sleeping on your roof.

#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha vampire au #bnha scenarios #Dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #Touya todoroki x reader #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

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myelocin · 4 years ago

Text

heart | iwaizumi hajime

synopsis: all his life, he lived for the thrill of the fall, and the high that life brought him as he lets gravity catapult him back to the earth. then enters you, who easily becomes his life, his life--his home.

how hajime realizes all of this, at 12 midnight; standing at a half empty parking lot, sharing an umbrella with you under the rain.

characters: iwaizumi hajime, you

genre: fluff, domestic!flulff, slice of life

wc: 1500+

a/n: part of series: in the midst of creation

iwaizumi hajime likes to think that he’s lived life always with a parachute.

failure didn’t scare him, nor did the notion of taking risks. uncertainty, on the other hand, was just something hajime deemed to be an avoidable factor you could live without.

if you were to ask him if he wanted to jump off a plane or lean a little bit more towards the edge of the cliff just to feel that rush, he would say yes within a heartbeat. life, he thinks, is better lived with the thrill of the fall. where the height that was measured with the fall was only a number. calculated, measured, comprehensible to the human mind where numbers would be enough to reel it in.

for as long as he’s known life, the jump, the thrill, and the fall, he knows that he doesn’t have anything to fear.

risk, hajime thinks, as present as it was, was only a figment of his imagination at best. when he leaped past the edge, he knew he could always afford to spread his wings and soar because before he could hit the ground, the parachute he always had would be the very thing that kept him above ground just for moments longer.

and the horizon, hajime smiles, has always been the grandest sight for him. the earth, as big and beautiful as it always is from just the window of his car or at the top of the summit could never look as vast as it does when he’s freefalling from the air.

a rush of just the right amount of wind that feel like kisses instead of blades against his skin, a sky so big and so blue that contrasts with the hue of earth that have always been trapped in hajime’s eyes. it’s like diving into the unknown, but even with the darkness and the depth that loomed under his feet and with the fall, he knew where he would land each and every time.

hajime knew he would land home.

home, that sometimes is just the one bedroom apartment in shibuya that you found on an ad two weeks after the both of you decided to move in together. where the sky and the grand world meant the sight of you; golden like the sun, and blossoming like the life of the earth that steals hajime’s breath away every time.

the genkan with the mismatched pair of slippers tossed to the side rather than placed in the cabinet he knew you bought to try to keep organized. a potted plant by the windowsill; leaves green and the petals he found himself counting every time he stood to water it the hue of a pastel yellow. your mug, next to his, sometimes on the corner of the table or in the sink after a meal.

the noodle packets with the kind of flavoring he never really bought for himself all those years ago, but now finds himself lining up at the cash register for all because of a text from you.

home, where a good morning was said with a cup of coffee and two sizes too big of a sweater on you that smell like him more than they did you.

though at times, hajime thinks, home can also be both anywhere and everywhere. home in the little moments.

like this, hajime smiles, watching you as you shake a closed umbrella free of its raindrops, the expression on your face happy despite the stray drops of rain on your shoulder. he knows he’s at the new supermarket a few miles over the usual one at eleven pm, but even if the street names on the lamp posts around are unfamiliar, he still feels a sense of home.

home, in the little moments such as this because the smile you wear is familiar just like the scent of the perfume he knows you’ve worn for years now.

a sense of belongingness that grounds him right back down to earth at the sound of your voice, even as you’re calling him over from one end of the produce section to another, asking him if you should get some spinach for tonight’s dinner. the quick ok, you tell him, coupled by the kind of smile hajime knows is for him has always been enough to have his heart racing.

he thinks that it’s sometime around twelve, where he’s standing next to you at the cash register, where the greatest epiphany in life finally hits him.

it comes to him slowly too, where he knows that when he thinks back on it later on, he’ll smile to himself because the memories will trickle in instead of crash into him all together.

“haji?” he hears, and when he looks at you, your hands are carrying the groceries he realizes the two of you picked together to take home.

he thinks of the raindrops that are waiting to be met with your smile outside, the puddles that look clear against the pavement that are keeping their form for you to skip on with a giggle, and hajime bites his lip.

life, he thinks in the moment is this. it’s the address that’s keyed in the gps labeled home, and the adjusted seat on the passenger seat of his car adjusted to the way he knows you’re the most comfortable in.

and love, on the other hand, hajime awakens to, is you.

It really is this, because when he watches you first smile at the slow drops of rain, second giggle at the puddles saying hello on the pavement, then third press your shoulder closer to his as you walk slow steps with him under the umbrella, hajime knows that in the moment—he’s soaring.

he fears, that in the moment perhaps you would be able to hear just how hard his heart is beating. so with cheeks flushed, eyes a little watery, and fingers trembling ever so slightly, hajime turns and faces the left, focusing his eyes towards the streetlights in the distance. the sound of raindrops on the umbrella, blending with the soft lull of your voice as he listens to you talk about how you’d go about and make dinner for two later has his head spinning.

for two, hajime thinks, his heart bursting in his chest. dinner for two.

and even if he’s probably eaten at least a few thousand meals with you by now, he swears to every deity above that cares to listen to a man in love, that every moment with you still fills him with the same high everyone talks about.

love really is you, hajime smiles, exhaling softly as he wills his heart to still before turning to his left and facing you, who stares at the half empty parking lot in front, a smile on your face.

he’s struck with the realization that he wants to cry. he wants to run to the next ledge and jump, because gravity in the moment feels as if it doesn’t exist. a light covers the both of you as you walk past a street light, and as hajime turns to stare at your profile, he’s rendered speechless because he sees the world—his world—in front of his eyes.

then like always, before he plunges into the raging seas, it’s suddenly clear to him that this whole time it’s you who is the parachute that kept him soaring above the water his whole life.

“let’s go home?” he hears you say, voice light like the sound of raindrops tapping on wind chimes.

hajime inhales, and for a moment just allows the silence to still time as he stares at you, the blur of raindrops falling before it suddenly pauses, looking like a scene straight out of a movie.

“haji,” you laugh, and at the sound of your voice, the world is in motion again.

because more than love, it’s you, he thinks again.

the sight of life beyond the ledge; beautiful, grand, and vast. then at the same time, the love that grounds him back to earth and reminds him to feel the roots of the very soil that molded his limbs before he could take flight.

but in the midst of it all, it’s you—his parachute that reminds him to be fearless against the unknown.

“let’s go home,” he says, and you smile, thinking that his voice fits with the sound of raindrops on glass.

taglist: @boosyboo9206, @wisepandaslimeland, @haiikyuuns, @flavostella02 , @pen-observing, @geekynicki, @shinhiromi , @volleybloop, @momoinot, @tsumtsumland @glassykaashi @orchid-tea-party

if you want to be added/removed just let me know! :)

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inforapound · 4 years ago

Text

The Devil Inside - Part 5

Thanks for reading. I’m going with a couple of shorter chapters instead of one long finale. Hope you like it.

Pairing - Ivar and reader

Warnings - dark Ivar, explicit smut, bad relationship, toxic love

By the following night without a word from Ivar, not a single call or text, and no sign of the black Camaro, you were no longer laughing. It felt like your world had collapsed to the ground. And, that alone was confusing as he was the one who had been such a prick. Right? Hadn’t he? Still, it was impossible to escape the feeling of guilt and some hard-to-define panic.

Your Ivar! Your beautiful, intense, complicated Ivar; his only fault being how much he loved you.

Was it actually over, you wondered for the zillionth time? Could the two of you work it out or would you never speak again? Would he ghost you? Ah yes, that was the fear creating the panic; you were worried he would write you off as though you had never existed. Just that idea, despite his display of rage, made your blood run cold and your heart straight-up rejected the notion that you were better off without him.

After months of the two of you cocooning away and blowing off the world, you were grateful, grateful, that your two best friends had your back. One look at your pale, despondent face the previous day, walking into class, and they flew into BBF mode.

God, they were great but you questioned their thinking. How would going out, within 24 hours of your love story ending, possibly help you?

But… there you sat in your room wearing a one-shouldered purple dress and strappy heels while Amanda carefully lined your lips and Kim flat ironed your hair. They yattered away as if to distract you, talking about what an asshole Ivar was, a complete psycho, and thank god you hadn’t slept with him. Eeeek, all that solidarity, and you had given them a watered-down version of what had happened during the fight.

Barely taking in their words, you thought over and over all that had been said in his car, questioning if it had truly been that bad. It felt awful at the time, but things seemed different after such a long time without hearing from him. Did it mean you had forgiven him? Definitely not but you still felt like a balloon bouncing in the wind without your Ivar.

Under it all, he just needed you and the thought of you with another guy was more than he could process. How can that be a bad thing? And it had been you, YOU, who desecrated his most treasured possession, his beloved mother’s necklace, a necklace he had imparted so lovingly. Wasn’t your behaviour as bad or even worse? Could he forgive you?

Tears rose in your eyes making the girls stop and stare, looking like a pair of barn owls.

“Oh babe,” Kim whispered squeezing your shoulder and Amanda leaned in, looking as if she was pitying a dog.

“Tonight is exactly what you need,” she nodded. “The dance will take your mind off of everything. Trust me.”

WELL, THAT WAS A FUCKING LIE.

The school gymnasium was dark and stuffy, the music pounding and the strobes seemed to flash all the way into your brain. It was the last place you needed to be! God! Every guy wearing a leather jacket made you do a double-take and Ivar’s absence screamed louder than the noise. Just twenty feet away your friends were dancing and yet you had never felt so alone. That must have been how Ivar felt, that day on the road, watching you run away from him. Your poor, love….. Where was he?

“Is it really you? Are you honestly here?” asked Mark Hasting as he, all-of-sudden, appeared at your side, reeking of weed and smiling one of his squinty-eyed smiles. “Mr. Lothbrok let you out of his grasp for a night. I almost don’t believe it.”

Not a word came out of your mouth and you looked from Mark back to the dance floor unable to tell him that the two of you had broken up. And….. that it was all your fault. Instead of easing Ivar’s fears, you had doused gasoline on his pain. Should you tell Mark that? What a horrible person you were? Oh god, what had you done?

Taking a deep breath, a gasp really, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Mark?” you cried out and it turned into a sob.

“Yea, heeey, what’s wrong?” he scrunched his forehead with concern and stepped closer.

“Can you give me a lift home? I can’t be here right now.”

----

Waving your thanks to Mark, you watched him reverse out of the driveway and closed the front door. Not taking the time to remove your coat or turn on the lights, you riffled through your purse looking for your phone. You had to find Ivar.

Would you call or text? Call! Yes, calling would be better and if he didn’t answer, you’d go straight over to his house. Oh god, that was a nerve-wracking thought, driving over and just walking in. What if he wasn’t alone...what if some chic was there? Your mind began to spin as your insecurities played tricks despite knowing, in your heart-of-hearts, how unlikely that was.

Bringing his number up on our phone, you headed through your dark kitchen toward your room, your ears still humming from the music at the dance. Staring at his number, you slowed to a stop and leaned against the hallway wall, sliding down to sit on the carpet. It was time.... and it felt scary as you had no idea where to start and Ivar was not a guy to make things easy. It was no stretch of the imagination to envision him picking up and not saying a word, just listening on the other end as you stuttered on. Regardless, there were things that needed to be said and for your part in the horrible mess, you wouldn’t keep score. Honestly, how could any girl keep score who dated Ivar Lothbrok?

Deep breath in, you steadied your nerves and hit dial, your ear pressed to the phone as it began to ring. Waiting, listening, holding your breath, you didn’t at first hear the faint buzzing sound. It was when you lowered the phone that it captured your attention. Ending the call, you sat straining to identify it but all was quiet in the house; the sound was gone. Tapping his number again, you redialed, keeping the phone in your lap, your eyes fixed on the screen. The ringing began again along with that same buzzing.

Holy shit! Ivar was there! Somewhere in the house with his phone!

Ending the call, you weren’t sure what to do but panic hit your chest, and as if on autopilot, you silently pushed yourself up to stand. You didn’t call out his name, instead, walked, tiptoed, to your bedroom door hesitating when your hand touched the handle. Why weren’t you calling out to him? Why was your door closed?

A thousand thoughts and feelings swirled in your head but none you could name. Snap out of it, you blasted yourself! It’s Ivar, your boyfriend, your true love; the guy you had been pining for all day. Not some intruder on the other side of the door ready to do horrible things. Right? Of course not…. Of course not….you repeated to yourself.

Carefully you turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door. Your room was dark and at the end of your bed sat a hooded figure... waiting. The light was too dim to see his face and his hood concealed his outline. It was the tension in the air and the way his head suddenly tilted to one side, looking in your direction, that confirmed it was him.

“Oh my god!” you finally cried, and swiped the wall, hitting the light-switch on; both of you instantly recoiling and squinting from the brightness. “Ivar! You terrified me!”

Making no move to stand, he kept looking at you, his eyes skipping over your face and down your body, clearly analyzing the details of your appearance. It was his forced, joyless laugh that made every muscle in your body tense. Steadying himself, he fell silent before sighing in a way that gave no indication of his state of mind. Lifting his hand, he flicked his fingers, beckoning you closer, his wicked blue eyes conveying that all was not well.

Placing your phone on your dresser, you removed your coat, throwing it to the floor, and stepped out of your shoes. Walking toward him, you lowered to the carpet and stood on your knees, pushing in between his legs. He never took his eyes off yours and your mouth went dry from the intensity.

So fast it made you flinch, he brought his hands up and cupped your cheeks. Normally it would have melted your heart but his steeliness strummed all your nerves.

“Ivar?” you peered up into his bottomless eyes, his brows furrowed. “Babe, I was just calling you. All-day, I.…”

“Where are your parents?” he cut you off. “They’ve been gone all day.”

“Oh...” you hesitated, ignoring how he knew that, “They’re away. My mom is gone until Tuesday, my dad was supposed to be back tonight but his flight got messed up. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

It was hard to know what answer he was looking for, but that didn’t seem it as his face remained unchanged.

“They leave you alone over-night? A teenage girl with a bedroom on the ground floor and her fucking window unlocked. Any creep could get in.”

The irony was lost on him and pointing it out was not the thing to do. Instead, you waited for him to finish, knowing he didn’t actually want you to answer.

Not taking his eyes off you, he seemed to grimace as he, again, scanned your cheeks, and eyes and mouth, his eyelids narrowing further.

“And who are you so dressed up for, hmm? Mark?”

“No!” you rushed. “He just gave me a ride home from the dance. I asked him to. I was crying.”

That admission made his face flicker but only slightly.

“I was upset about our fight and missing you,” you explained.

Using your courage, you raised your hands and finally touched him, resting them on his thighs.

Instantly, he turned and you thought for a moment he was moving away but instead, he leaned back and grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand.

“It's okay, I’m not upset anymore. Thank you,” your eyes flitted down to the yellow box he held up for you.

“No,” his face tightened, “Wipe your face. Take that stuff off.”

“Wha?”

“That lipstick,” he quipped, lifting his eyebrows and glancing at the box, urging you on. “And that crap on your cheeks.”

Slowly, you grabbed a tissue, pulling it from the box, another withdrawing behind. As you wiped the pink gloss from your mouth, and blush from your skin, he reached up and pushed his hood back, exposing the extent of his exhaustion; his pale face and dark ringed eyes and messy hair that for the first time had no product in it. Seeing his weariness, you wondered what kind of sleepless and heart-broken roller-coaster he, himself, had been on since your fight.

Grabbing the dirty Kleenex from you, he tossed it onto the floor and took your chin in his hand making you wish he would just break the tension and kiss you.

“You know I don’t like you wearing make-up.”

“I know, it's just...”

“It’s just what?”

“I don’t know,” you tried to look down, but he held your face in place, forcing you to look at him. You felt as if you were being scolded

“You don’t need that shit. You are so beautiful.” Shaking his head, his eyes lowered for a second and he sighed your name, his body and defenses softening and you jumped at the opening.

“Ivar,” you whispered, rubbing your hands over his jeans. “Babe,” you cooed softly making him close his eyes, frowning as if your affection pained him.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” he said quietly, opening his eyes and glaring. “What am I going to do?”

“Kiss me,” you replied despite his harsh look, thinking of the first day he picked you up at lunch. “Kiss me, and everything else will come,” you whispered and his face began to blur as tears rose in your eyes.

And like that, his mouth was on you, his hands holding your face, his breath revealing his relief and his whimper giving away his desperation. Your sweetheart was aching for you, all this time, but he had no idea what to do. His tongue pushed inside your mouth, his lips demanding more and you lifted your hands and gripped his hoodie, bracing yourself from the force of his emotions. Your beautiful Ivar had been adrift without you. Utterly lost!

Pulling back, he stared at you, his face filled with agony. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears.

“I love you too,” you murmured back.

“Never. Reject. Me. Again,” he articulated as his nostrils flared, his threat easy to hear but you could see past it. “From this moment on, this second on, we belong to each other. Even more than we did before. Do you hear me? You. Are. Mine.”

“I was always yours, Ivar,” you sounded like you were pleading for him to believe you. “And I always, always, will be. I need you,” you whispered.

“I need you,” he repeated back as if swearing a vow. “Now,” he let go of your face and straightened. “Show me,” he jerked his chin and the slightest wave of arrogance came over him. “Show me,” he said again, raising his dark eyebrows expectantly. “With your mouth.”

What?

Was this a test, you wondered, wishing he’d continue touching you with the same love and need you felt just an instant ago. But of course his defenses were still up; he was searching for reassurance. The same reassurance you didn’t give the day before making the situation explode. Your poor Ivar, you would not let him down twice.

Nodding, you looked down at his lap, running your hands over the bulge in his jeans. If this was what he needed to feel your devotion, you would indulge him. In a flash, your quick hands had his jeans open, his beautiful cock upright in your grasp. It always amazed you how smooth his skin looked, his head a shade darker than the rest but all flawless with the slightest sheen.

Leaning down, you took him into your mouth, loving how it felt and his hand grabbed the back of your neck, not pushing but letting you know that he could. God, he tasted amazing; salty and clean and you tightened your fingers around his base and started to move.

Oh how you loved the way he hissed when you bobbed your mouth up and down, his hips jerking and his grip on your neck getting tight. Each time you took him into the back of your throat, it triggered that reflex and like some submissive craving pain, you were instantly turned on. What was wrong with you that the idea of suffocating on him made you wet? Picking up your pace made him moan and you began to slam down a little harder and a touch further each time, making yourself gag.

“Fuck!” he snarled in response clearly loving the sounds of it. “You want to choke on my dick, baby? Hmm?” he grunted out into the room. “Aw fuck I missed you. Last night and all fucking day, I missed you....so much.”

On you moved, and sucked and slurped, your lips sliding down his shaft, your throat getting used to the roughness.

“I’m so lucky to be with you. Fuck!” he growled, rolling his hips up toward your mouth. “I don’t give a shit about that other guy anymore. None of that matters. I just want to be with you. I love you.”

That was the closest you knew he‘d ever come to apologizing.

“Yea, baby, suck it,” he groaned again, “Suck my cock. You’re so beautiful. But don’t get greedy, I have plans for you tonight.”

Reaching down he yanked up the skirt of your purple dress, shimmying it higher until it was above your waist and you were kneeling in your thong. He obviously liked it as he growled and slapped your ass hard before pulling you off of him, his eyes staring at your mouth which must have looked red and puffy and totally wrecked.

“Get on the bed and open your legs.”

“Pardon?” your eyes flashed wide.

“I’m going to make you mine.”

@blonddnamedhandz @whenimaunicorn @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @youbloodymadgenius @geekandbooknerd @ivarsgoddess @where-beauty-goes-to-die @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @snatcherheart @lordsexmachine @fuchsiagrasshopper @wilhelmyna @heavenly1927 @cececolbert @peachyboneless @xbellaxcarolinax

#ivar #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #vikings ivar #Ivar Lothbrok #ivar fanfic #ivar and reader #ivar smut #ivar romance #ivar loth #ivar in highschool #vikings fanfiction #ivar love story #ivar and sarah

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radiantroope · 4 years ago

Text

Heart of Gold || Rafe Cameron

pairing: rafe x reader

requested: no

summary: your mental health is slipping and your boyfriend will do anything to help you.

warnings: swearing, depression, implied suicidal thoughts, mentions of drug use/abuse, fluff; if any of these are triggering please read with caution

word count: 1.6k+

author’s note: rafe is not a murderer in this fic. i love non-canon rafe. i wrote this as a vent the other day when i was having a hard time. i’m good now though<3 also, i suck at summaries so i’m sorry.

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You felt numb. Completely and utterly numb. The hollow feeling in your chest only felt to grow with each hour. The soft fabric of your pale yellow duvet cocooned you in the bed you wished to never leave. You stared blankly at the wall in front of you.

You stopped crying hours ago. Remnants of tears stained your flushed cheeks. The tip of your nose had turned a rosy color and your eyes that were once so full of life were puffy and bloodshot. Your arms tightened around your legs as the daunting thoughts loomed inside of your head.

Rafe Cameron was no stranger to your inner demons. He had his own as well and that’s what brought you two together. Shared traumas of being berated for everything you did. Feeling unaccomplished no matter what you did. Feeling unloved by the very people who were supposed to take care of you the moment you took your first breath.

Rafe knew you needed your space sometimes. He knew you had to work out your thoughts and emotions on your own and he was okay with that. You had it way harder than he did, being a Pogue — someone he never could have imagined falling so hard for. Though, when he hadn’t heard from you in three days, he started to grow worried. He sent you a good morning text, an “I love you” text in the afternoon, and a goodnight text before he went to bed each day. Despite the state you were in, he always got a reply. When this time he didn’t, his mind went into overdrive.

The Kook knew your parents spent all day on the mainland every Wednesday so he hopped in his truck and made his way to the South side of the island. He just needed to see you and make sure you were okay. He knew the longer you isolated yourself, the darker the thoughts in your head would get. He wasn’t going to risk you doing something stupid in a moment of weakness like he’d done before.

“I don’t know what else you want from me dad! I try so damn hard, but nothing is good enough for you!” you shouted at your father from the other side of the living room.

This had been going on for almost two hours. For a while, you sat in silence as your father called you every name in the book. He told you how he raised you better than this. He compared you to your older sister who had gotten a full ride scholarship to Julliard. You barely skimmed the surface in school. Not seeing the point since it was rare for anyone to actually make it out of The Cut.

“I want you to do better. I want you to stop treating this house like a god damn hotel! You come here to eat our food, use our shit, and sleep one night a week! You may as well move the fuck out at this point!” your father’s voice got louder with each sentence, face turning red in rage. “Go move in with your perfect little Kook boyfriend in his big perfect house and mooch off him! You’re worthless, Y/N! I’ve lost all the faith I had in you.”

The fight happened three days ago, but you couldn’t get your father’s words out of your head. They kept spinning there, along with every other hurtful thing he’d said from the moment you turned sixteen.

You’re worthless. You’re lazy. You’re stupid. You can’t do anything right. Who would ever love you?

You didn’t hear the front door or the footsteps walking down the hall. You didn’t hear your bedroom door open and gently shut seconds later. The voices in your head were far too loud.

Rafe’s heart dropped at the sight of you curled under the blanket. Your knotted hair was splayed out on the pillows. He almost couldn’t even see the rise and fall of the blanket due to your shallow breathing. He walked around the bed and let out a soft breath. The emotionless expression on your otherwise beautiful face caused a tightness in his chest.

The blue eyed boy crouched down by your head and gently brushed your hair away from your eyes. He watched your eyelids flutter and your gazes met. It was like you were looking through him, a sad smile spreading across his lips. He whispered, “Hi, sugar.”

As your brain registered your boyfriend was the person in front you, the floodgates in your eyes reopened. A small cry left your lips as you released your legs and reached out of the covers for the boy. He didn’t hesitate to climb straight into the bed with you. His muscular arms enveloped you, pulling you tightly into his chest. You couldn’t control the sobs that wracked your body.

“Oh, baby,” Rafe breathed, feeling tears burn in his own eyes. Seeing you in such a state was never easy and he had trouble keeping his own emotions at bay.

He buried his nose in your hair and closed his eyes. One of his large hands rubbed up and down your spine, trying to consol you. He quietly cooed, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

The sandy haired boy held you in his embrace until your harsh sobs turned into small whimpers. You sniffled every so often and your body still trembled against him. He brought one of his hands up to your hair and worked his large fingers through the knots. He knew you probably needed a good shower but he was going to wait until you’d calmed some more before he moved you. He placed a soft kiss to your forehead right at your hairline, causing you to look up at him.

“Why do you love me, Rafe?” your voice was barely even a whisper. He definitely wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t pressed chest to chest. “I can’t do anything right. I’m a waste of space. You deserve someone better.”

A deep frown pulled at the Cameron boy’s face. He knew you were only saying it because your parents had embedded it in you. They’d said things like that to you so many times that you started to believe them. He always did everything in his power to remind you that you were incredible and so loved — even if it was only by him.

Rafe brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing down the flushed skin and over your jaw. His tone was stern but his voice was soft as he said, “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I love you because you’re a strong woman with a heart of gold. You go through hell and still wear a smile on your face to everyone on this island. You go out of your way to help people when they need it, even if you get nothing in return. You defend your friends and I even when we don’t deserve it.”

The Kook’s heart leapt when he saw the corners of your mouth twitch. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. His bright, ocean blue eyes stared into yours with complete adoration.

“Remember when I was an addict?”

How could you forget? It was two years ago, early in your relationship when you learned of his addiction. You remember every sleepless night staying up making sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he was going through withdrawals. You remember having to help him shower when he was too weak to stand on his own. You remember having to change the sheets once a day when they were covered in his sweat. You remember taking the angry outbursts when he desperately wanted a fix and couldn’t get it.

You remember the three times he relapsed and you had to start the process all over again.

You remember the one time he overdosed — and you almost lost him forever. That’s when he finally realized he was killing himself and checked into a rehabilitation center. Topper and Kelce cleaned up their acts along with him. None of them wanted to die over an overpriced white powder that gave them a temporary high to numb their pain.

“You visited me everyday in rehab, even when I gave you every chance to walk away. You never gave up on me,” Rafe’s thumb made its way back up your cheek and over the protruding bone. “I’m not giving up on you, baby. I will spend everyday, for the rest of my life, reminding you that you deserve the world. That you are smart, beautiful and the absolute love of my life.”

Your lips turned up in a smile. It wasn’t a big one, but it was something, and Rafe had never been so happy to see it. He tilted his head down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Your hands that had been gripping the front of his polo slid around his back. When he pulled away, you rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

“Move in with me,” Rafe said after a moment of silence.

Your head lifted immediately, nearly knocking his chin as you stared wide eyed at him. He chuckled at your shocked expression and tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I’ve got some money put away. We can get an apartment and it’ll cover a few months. We can get jobs and I’ll go to school,” Rafe’s fingers trailed over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “What do you say, princess? Wanna start our own life?”

You couldn’t stop the grin that enveloped your face as you thought about what he was suggesting. You wouldn’t have to be criticized by your parents anymore. You’d be free to do whatever you wanted with your life, and you’d have the man of your dreams by your side. So you nodded, bending in and pressing your lips to Rafe’s passionately.

“Let’s do it, baby,” you whispered against his lips, squealing softly as he pulled you on top of him and attacked your face with kisses.

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girlmeetsliv3 · 5 years ago

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Lilies of the Valley III

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

In the language of flowers, yellow lilies are said to represent both deception (perhaps tied to the notion of concealment) and graciousness.

Release Date: 05/25/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

Yoongi shook his head, black fringe swaying slightly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re staying with us.”

“Absolutely not!”

The refusal was out of her mouth before she'd even thought about it. Both men flinched at her rejection but didn't look surprised. YN however was beginning to be upset, of course they would try to take advantage of the situation. I shouldn’t have expected any different. The tension was beginning to rise between the two and YN suddenly remembered that Yoongi liked to provoke people. Suddenly Jimin raised his hands as if to show no ill will, "We don't mean it like that." His hands raked through his perfectly styled hair, "It's just that you're our mate. Legally now too."

“It wouldn’t look right. Plus it would be dangerous.” Yoongi finished for him, leaning forward and uncrossing his arms. He tentatively reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. It was warm and softer than YN would’ve imagined, she didn’t remove it and she couldn’t quite understand why. Maybe because it was meant to comfort her and it had been a long time since YN had been comforted. She almost found herself getting lost in its warmth until she reminded herself of who she was with and stopped herself. Sensing her discomfort the betas rushed to speak again. “We have this small cottage in the back, it’s newly refurbished and has plumping and everything. All it would need is a bed.”

“I don’t know if I would feel comfortable living with all seven of you...it’s a lot.”

Yoongi sighed, “We understand, though it isn’t like you have much of a choice. No place will take a mated omega. The law won’t permit it. Only...” He didn’t have to finish for her to know what he meant.

Only the boarding house.

YN looked up at the men and spoke as clearly as she could, "I'm not your mate. I'm not your omega," she saw how every word was spoken physically deflated them. "However, thank you for helping me. It's only temporary until I find another solution." Something flashed quickly in both men's eyes, but it was far too fast for YN to comprehend what it was. They only smiled and nodded with jovial excitement. Jimin began to talk about furniture that would be added while Yoongi pulled out his phone and seemed to text someone. She realized her hand was still under his and tried to retrieve it, Yoongi didn't allow her too. Before YN could say anything he gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it. Putting his left hand into his jacket’s pocket.

“So it’s set. We’ll be by later to pick up your things .”

YN nodded feeling a numbness spreading throughout her body, as she finished her tea and placed the cup down. Her eyes met theirs, dark empty pools, and she wondered if their inner scale was tipped. Were they more animal than human? Beasts? YN would soon find out.

“Swear you’ll be okay?” Rosé asked, her fingers intertwined into YN’s. They swung back and forth, their arms shaking slightly. The air was silent, save for the things left unsaid.

"I'm sure. I'll be safe. They won't hurt me." The smile hurt YN, but she forced her lips to spread open for her best friend's sake. She couldn't possibly leave Rosé out for the wolves, even if it meant she would be jumping right into their den.

“Don’t forget to text me. Oh, and call me every night.”

YN rolled her eyes but laughed. "Yes, mom. I'll make sure to write you a letter every day."

“For a year?”

The two girls giggled and embraced as YN willed herself to stick to her word. Just as she was beginning to doubt herself, someone knocked on the door. When the door opened, it was Yoongi and Jimin again; both with smiles on their faces - ones a little too big to be done out of politeness. They stayed by the door, if they entered their scents would linger and that wouldn't look good on Rosé. Betas did have a scent, but unless they were purposefully trying to emit it, only other betas would sense it. "Are you ready to go?" Jimin spoke after he had waved at Rosé. YN nodded, grabbing her bags resting by the door and handing them off to the two waiting betas. Feeling like it would be a while until YN saw her again, she turned around and gave Rosé one last hug. Rosé leaned deep into their embrace and whispered into YN's ear, "If anything happens. Call me, I'll be there immediately."

Tears almost welled up in YN’s eyes but she fought them back, merely giving her a reassuring squeeze before walking out and closing the door.

Wow, what a fucking house. YN's jaw slackened at the sight of it, though her parents were well off it hadn't compared to this. Then again, combining the wealth of seven of the richest families in Seoul was bound to bear its fruits. Judging by the smirk on the two men's faces, they enjoyed her reaction. So, she did her best to school it immediately. There hadn't been any words exchanged by the three of them in the car, thankfully, and YN hoped it would remain that way. Instead of taking her to the front entrance, Yoongi and Jimin guided her to the side of the house. It once they reached the backyard that her breath was truly taken away.

The area was huge with a swimming pool, patio area, and botanical garden. However, it was the tiny home in the back with a garden of lilies that called to her. “It’s like the one at school.” Was the first thing she noted. It wasn’t as large, but it seemed to have similar flowers and evoke the same feeling.

“Do you like it?” Yoongi asked, looking at her from his peripheral.

“I love it.” There was no hesitance in her words, they were sincere.

They guided her to the tiny house; which the closer she got wasn't so tiny at all. It was one floor with a large bed, a television mounted on the wall, a small closet, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. There was even a small bookcase filled with familiar books: they had been the assigned reading when she was in school. Probably filled with annotations and other such things. YN wished she still had her copies, but she had donated all but her favorites to school when she graduated.

Jimin cleared his throat, “Sorry the closet isn’t bigger, but we can expand it later.” YN shook her head, “No, that’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Yoongi placed his hand on her shoulder, “Dinner will be served in about an hour. You can meet everyone then.” Meet them again. YN felt her throat dry up, she wasn’t sure about how she felt being a room with all seven of them just yet. She had wanted to delay the inevitable, but considering she was staying in their home - it was the least she could do.

“Sure.”

The two of them seemed pleased at her lack of resistance. Jimin smiled, "Go get cleaned up and we'll come to pick you up when it's time." YN felt it was more of a command, then a suggestion but she didn't care. Once the two of them left, she jumped on the bed and decided to take a small nap. The pillow smelled fresh and clean, only lulling her faster into sleep.

"I'm very sorry for what's occurred to you, YN. But I want you to know it isn't your fault and that we are here to help." Officer Kim sent a comforting smile, trying to ease YN's nerves. YN remained silent, her grip on the blue blanket thrown around her shoulders was so strong her fingers were white. The officer sighed, tilting her head slightly to send a look to the people behind the screen. When she looked back at YN, all she saw was the teenager's glassy widened eyes. It had been an accident, a terrible one, but teenagers tended to be reckless. If the gruesome bite on YN's neck was anything to show for it.

“Do you want to press charges?”

YN shook her head, caving in on herself even more. Jungkook’s sorry wails still echoed in her head. It didn't matter, what's done is done. YN looked up to meet the officer Kim's warm golden eyes. Her lips parted and she could see the anticipation building up in the cop's face only for there to be a disappointment once YN actually spoke.

“I just want to go home.”

Loud knocking tore her away from her dreams, as she saw a shadow-like figure standing outside the doors.

The door opened slowly, only once he'd stepped in could YN recognize him. "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know you were asleep." Kim Taehyung had probably undergone the most significant change out of all of them: transforming from a lanky teen to an able man. YN didn't realize she had been gaping at him so openly until he smirked. "Um, no don't worry." She scrambled to get off the bed and smooth down her clothes, getting rid of any creases her short sleep might have caused. Taehyung tilted his head, his eyes roaming her body until they landed on her poorly concealed mark. YN flinched when he stepped forward, but instead of grabbing her Taehyung held out his hand.

“Dinner is served and it’ll get cold if we wait any longer.”

As attractive as he was, truthfully they all were, and as much as something inside her willed her to grab his hand - YN refused. Walking past him and outside the double doors to the garden of lilies. The sun had long set and now the half-moon shined brightly in the night sky. Casting a beautiful glow on the garden, the lilies, and YN herself. Perhaps, that is why it took Taehyung such a long time to step outside her room, the man still in the shadows. He was simply basking in her glory. Or perhaps, he was trying to control his rage at his mate's reaction in a way that would frighten the already tense YN.

When he stepped out a charlatan smile was present on his features, “Let’s go then.” Together the two of them walked side by side until they reached the house. Faintly YN could hear the sound of jazz music and muffled voices, goosebumps rose on her arms as her stomach twisted and turned. Here we go. YN’s hands balled into fists as she dug her nails into her skin, trying to remain calm despite the voices growing louder and louder. Eventually, she could pick on the scent of one...two...four alphas and hear the soft bell-like nature of Jimin’s laugh. They were all here. Now’s the time.

The conversations began to die down and YN knew it was because they sensed her. She prayed to whatever god's existed that everything would go well. They turned a corner and YN suddenly saw them. All seven of them were wearing what could be deemed business casual attire. They were all littered across the room, but all seemed to be in a circle surrounding a red velvet chesterfield where the lead alpha was seated. His dark hair combed back, a white button-down, and tight black jeans. One by one they all turned to face her, but he was last. His warm chocolate eyes lingering on the glass of wine in his hand before they slowly traveled to meet hers.

YN finally realized what situation she was in. A prey in a predator's territory and sadly, she'd already been branded. She remained frozen on the spot, unable to look away from the alpha's eyes, she didn't know if it was courage or brazen recklessness. Then he smiled, a warm charming smile that reminded her of the early days. When the two would speak in hushed whispers and aid each other in assignments and tests. Times when YN looked at him with admiration, care, and maybe a tiny bit of love. She did have a small crush on him back in those days, nothing to act upon since she knew he was destined but enough to make her feel happy to be around him.

He stood up and crossed the room, a steady stride which was a blend of natural yet calculated. As if he was measuring how close he could get without scaring her, it was when he was two feet away that YN slightly stepped back. The action caused him to stop, as he finally spoke.

“Welcome. It’s been a while.”

Soon they all crowded around her offering kind smiles. Their scents were strangely muted now, YN guessed that was being done on purpose in order not to frighten her - or send her into a pseudo-heat. Not that it would occur considering the suppressants she was on. Conversations started back up again, but YN didn't participate in any. She noticed Jungkook was strangely quiet too but didn't pay him much attention for fear he might get the wrong idea. It was a couple of minutes later that a worker announced the food was served, YN went to follow him but someone tugged at her hand pulling her back.

“Mind if we have a chat?” Namjoon asked, a hint of mirth in his smile.

"Sure," YN noted how most of them walked away, Seokjin was the only one who remained but stayed near the threshold.

“Wow, you’ve changed. Grown, I mean.” His awkwardness caused a slight chuckle to escape YN’s lips. “Says the person who is now seven feet tall.” At that his smile grew. The glass of wine in his hand was placed on a top nearby and now that his hands were empty, Namjoon took a hold of hers. His large warm hands cradling hers, as his thumbs ran soothingly across her knuckles. “How do you feel?” YN didn’t know why she was so at ease around Namjoon, maybe because they’d known each other before everything happened. He had demonstrated that he was a good person, who had simply made a mistake. As opposed to the other’s who she only knew vaguely and had been forced to get to know because of what happened.

“Fine. Good.” YN smiled gently, her heart didn’t race as it did before but she felt comfortable around Namjoon in a way she didn’t around the others. It might’ve been that he was the leader: the one who could make everyone fall in line at his command. It might’ve been that she trusted him. YN didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. “Thank you for letting me stay.” She spoke to both him and Seokjin who straightened up.

“It’s no problem, YN. Your welcome as long as you’d like.” Seokjin’s words were polite and YN was thankful he didn’t mention anything about mates. In fact, she hoped the whole conversation would be avoided the entire evening.

Namjoon drew her attention back to him, “What’s ours is yours. Whatever you need, don't be afraid to tell us.” Before YN could say anything, he pulled her towards the exit. “Come. Everyone is waiting for us.” He sent her a flirty wink before Seokjin joined them, walking on her other side.

“So YN, what did you study?” Hoseok wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

“Sociology.”

“Sounds interesting. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was interesting.” YN wasn’t the most social person, not to mention she found it difficult to speak when all eyes were on her.

“Did you get the flowers we sent for your graduation?” Taehyung asked, beside her. He was less intimidating in the warm yellow lighting of the dining room. Ah the flowers. Her parents had delivered the flowers when they went to visit and though YN had been all smiles, she’d thrown them in the trash the second she’d gotten back home.

“Yes, they were lovely. Thank you.”

It all seemed too perfect, too surreal, nothing bad had occurred yet and it had YN on the edge of her seat. This wasn’t how she was expecting the night to go at all. It had been years since the incident and though YN was aware that people could change, they seemed so different. People are different during heats. It’s more animal instinct than anything. That may be true, but it felt like she was at a reunion rather than a dinner with her supposed ‘mates.’ It seems the jovial atmosphere was beginning to be too much for someone else because Jungkook finally broke.

“Aren’t we going to talk about it?!” His hands slammed down against the table, causing everyone to turn and look at him. Jungkook was near the end of the table, right next to Seokjin which faced Namjoon at the head. Talk about what? It seemed his question was more intended for his pack members than for her, but it still left YN curious. Seokjin who seemed unfazed continued cutting his meat, “Kookie, stop it.” This seemed to only anger the youngest more.

“No, we agreed -” Just as Jungkook was standing up, Hoseok pulled him back down to his chair. Oh no. Alpha’s butting heads was never a good sign. She might’ve assumed this was normal but seeing how tense Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin were this was clearly unusual. The sudden growl that Jungkook let out was all the proof she needed.

Adrenaline began to pump through her blood, as her instincts were about to kick in. If there was going to be a fight, she wanted no part in it. It was then that Taehyung and Jimin both placed their hands on her knees, keeping her still.

“Calm down, Jungkook. Stop being a brat.” Seokjin scolded him once more, his jaw now locked. The young alpha wasn’t listening, didn’t care to. Suddenly all his attention zeroed in on YN as he spoke. “We have to complete the mating bond.” Anxiety began to trickle into YN’s mind and body. No. no. no. no.

“No.” YN pushed the chair away from the table and stood ready to walk out and leave the house. She should have known better than to trust them. This had been their plan all along, to get her into a situation where she couldn’t escape. As she passed by Namjoon his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, tugging her towards him. The lead alpha had remained silent during the whole ordeal, as YN looked at him with irritation. Namjoon spoke in a calm mellow tone, “Down.” Just like that Jungkook dropped to his knees and began to cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Now YN was even more terrified. What the fuck is going on.

Rosé: Hey, how’d your first day go?

YN: Terrible, I don’t even want to talk about it.

Rosé: Did something bad happen? Did they do something to you?

Rosé: Are you okay?

YN: I’m okay. Things are just really strange here. I don’t know how to describe it.

YN: It's like everyone's on edge, but they're pretending they aren't.

Rosé: I mean isn’t that kinda normal. You are their mate and you did reject them, so it makes sense.

Rosé: You never did tell me why you rejected them though.

YN: It’s a long story and I’m tired. Ttyl. Night.

Rosé: Good night.

Hope you enjoyed the story. Tag list is in the comments.

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andorlorian · 4 years ago

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okay so I do have an anakin fix it au floating around in my brain in which revenge of the sith goes as well as it possibly could BUT that's not the important part of this post the IMPORTANT part is what happens to maul in this au. (disclaimer: all I know about maul's backstory is from watching the clone wars and reading his wookiepedia page so some of this might be inaccurate. bear with me)

okay so because order 66 didn't happen, maul is brought before the council. he was sith so the council would want to deal with him personally

I think with palpatine dead (fully and completely 100% dead no take backs) the influence of the dark side everywhere would be lessened. everyone would feel a lot clearer, happier, brighter, like a dark cloud had been lifted from their mind. this would include maul.

however, for maul, diving deep into the dark side has been something of a coping mechanism. amassing as much power as possible and giving yourself over to this dark higher power means you don't have the contemplate the fact that you were stolen from your family and home world and fed incredibly damaging rhetoric from the man who 1) let you die 2) immediately upon finding out you were still alive electrocuted the fuck out of you and killed the last part of your family and (imo) the only person you ever truly loved

so maul upon arriving to the jedi council, while slightly less affected by the dark side, is still full of pure rage, hate, and a clusterfuck of other emotions brought about by thinking about the jedi. he's a whole disaster

okay this is going to get very very long I'm going to put a read more here

I imagine some in the council would like to kill or exile him and be done with it, but after the inherent trauma of the clone wars and seeing how far separated from their ideals the jedi order has become, they'd show him mercy. this part may not necessarily make 100% sense but shut up this is the good things for maul au maul gets good things

therefore, the council would vote in favor of rehabilitation. what I imagine this would look like is maul would be heavily guarded and watched, and whenever possible he would be visited by jedi masters (and masters ONLY. they're not dumb)

maul gets his own quarters, which are big enough not to be stifling or tiny but small enough to still fit in a jedi temple where they value austerity and forsaking possessions. they would want to give maul as much freedom as possible while making sure he couldn't be a threat to anyone around him, which would mean he doesn't have much freedom at all. he's fed and watered and visited by at least one jedi master a day. these visits are usually someone meditating and trying to rehabilitate maul's mind while not being openly invading, rather guiding maul's broken mind into its natural state and removing palpatine's influence. these visits are also good old fashioned therapy (maul desperately needs to talk some shit out)

it would take a very very very long time but with guided meditation and constant consistent kindness and understanding shown to him by the jedi maul would start to heal. one of the major things that palpatine forcibly shoved into his brain is a distrust and particular hatred for the jedi, but after spending so many years in their care and with constant (almost annoying) understanding that belief system would start to break down.

it would start small. like one day maybe instead of feeling rage and anger around savage's death he feels sadness because for the first time he's in an environment where he has the space to breathe and remember his brother

I think once maul has actually started to improve a little bit and moved past his rage and murder phase that's when obi-wan would visit him. which would definitely bring back some rage and murder but also it would bring maul some closure. I'd imagine they'd both need some sort of closure, considering maul killed qui gon and obi-wan essentially killed him. but obi-wan saying something like "I forgive you. I'm not your enemy." that might throw a wrench into maul's thinking

so over time, maul is becoming less and less emotionally tumultuous. he's in a stable environment in which a set group of people visit him daily solely for the purpose of rehabilitating him, both through the force and just regular conversation as equals. eventually, after enough time in this environment, whoever maul is beneath the rage and pain and the dark side would emerge

this is the side of maul that I wrote this for. this is why he's one of my favorites.

maul is deeply intelligent, and rather calculating. while he usually forgoes rational thought to scream "kenOBIIIIIII" into the night he's very good at assessing a situation and how to get the best possible outcome. he feels things very deeply but he's incredibly bad at naming exactly what his feelings are and he's not very good at reading the emotions of others. I think a flaw of his is that he really forgets to take emotions into account, while for the jedi that's kind of their whole thing. (yeah the jedi are stereotyped as unfeeling warriors but that's not true at all, they acknowledge and release their feelings into the force. for them their feelings are the force.)

I think one day when maul is beyond resisting his existence at the jedi temple, when he slowly realizes "hey my life sucks a whole lot less than before" he manages to actually solve a problem for one of the masters who visits him regularly and has become the closest thing he can really have to a friend. said master (maybe kit fisto just because I like kit fisto) rants about a problem or a mission that they're having and maul just goes "well it's obvious, really." and manages to solve the problem like that by nature of his unique perspective.

and after a looong amount of time has passed, maul's role shifts from enemy, victim, and a patient to being a voice of rationality, a problem-solver, and someone to rant to when the whole jedi master thing gets to be A Lot™

seriously though I cannot stress how long it would take for maul to heal and get to this point. MINIMUM five years.

eventually maul and some people he's forged friendships with petition the council to allow him to have some more freedom. while extremely hesitant, without palps clouding their vision they could much more clearly see maul's mental state and what sort of danger he would pose to the jedi, and they would let him move freely about the temple

okay here's my favorite part of this whole thing. maul is a fucking nerd. he discovers the jedi library and goes insane. maul would read so many books about so many different things because he's interested in everything and he'd want to build his knowledge in a myriad of subjects. he would spend hours upon hours in the jedi library just reading every single thing in there. he'd beg one of the masters to let him access the "forbidden knowledge" just because it's knowledge and he wants it. and if that didn't work he'd find a way to break in (the forbidden knowledge did not disappoint).

I also think maul would love to spar with lightsabers and stuff. he'd know techniques the jedi wouldn't, and so in friendly spars with people he'd managed to befriend, he'd actually give them a fight and teach them something, while also learning new techniques from the jedi

I think maul would consider becoming a jedi for a brief second. he's happier here than he's probably ever been, finally free from palpatine's influence and in a healthy environment. but he knows it's not his path.

after spending a long time living at the jedi temple, having carved out something of a life for himself, made friends for the first time in his life, having finally achieved emotional stability, he approaches the order on his own. they expect, after having been long used to his presence, for him to ask to be a jedi. but he comes with an unexpected proposal.

maul asks to leave the jedi temple to go home to dathomir, to see what had become of his family and of the nightbrothers. he's much much more stable than he was, but he still has burning questions that palpatine would never have let him find the answers to. and he genuinely does want to get there, eventually. but he also wants to learn more about the force that the jedi wouldn't teach him, to learn more about the sith.

his departure is surprisingly more emotional than he was expecting. the jedi temple was the first place he'd ever actually felt safe, that he'd been allowed to just exist. he would miss it.

armed with all the knowledge in the jedi temple, he searches for knowledge the jedi wouldn't have access to. he finds the remains of mortis, and researches the mortis gods. he spends a period of time wandering around like batman crushing the people he doesn't particularly like (usually people objectively morally horrible. he spent years with the jedi he has ✨morals✨ now). he even made his way to ilum, and found two crystals to forge a new double-bladed lightsaber. (the blades are yellow.)

maul would also study ancient sith texts, and spend a lot of time investigating old sith temples (like the one on malachor). however, he doesn't have the same burning desire to seize the power for himself anymore. it's an odd feeling.

eventually he does return home to dathomir to find the genocide of the nightsisters (with only one nightsister, merrin, remaining) and the nightbrothers in disarray after the loss of the dictatorial government they'd lived under for generations. maul ends up taking over a la mandalore (but with a lot less murder and awfulness. ✨morals✨)

what I'd love to see is maul founding an opposite sort of order to the jedi. not necessarily the sith, since the sith treated him horribly and destroyed his entire life, but i think maul would believe that for the force to truly be in balance, you couldn't try to eradicate an entire half of it from the galaxy. I would love to see maul found an order of dark side force users that teaches about how to use the dark side, how to avoid total corruption, and the correct channels for the power you control.

maul would be a very effective teacher in the dark side because of how much experience he has with it. he experienced the absolute worst of the dark side, the total corruption and loss of self, but he also used the dark side to save the nightbrothers from destroying themselves after the loss of the nightsisters and used his power to keep them together and safe (not to mention the period of time with Batman Maul where he used the dark side to help people).

also I would love to see the new generation of jedi and the new generation of dark side users not to be in opposition for once. by nature of maul being rehabilitated by the jedi, he would teach about them and their teachings with a modicum of respect, and the two orders would be seen as two sides of the same coin. twins, almost.

maul would not be a child snatcher, he was child snatched. the dark side is different from the light in that its always there. it comes much more naturally to force users, and unlike the jedi, it wouldn't require you to join from a ridiculously young age. his order is always known and always open to any force user who wishes to learn about the force.

maul's life comes to an end peacefully, at his home on dathomir, having built a new society for the nightbrothers and a new order for users of the dark side.

#word count: 1.9k #holy wow i did not know i had that many words in me about maul #here's my good things for maul au #in which order 66 did not happen #maul #revenge of the sith #the prequels #the clone wars #star wars #darth maul #jedi #sith #meta #ryn dot text #good things for maul au #ryn dot fic

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delightfully-difficult-pirate · 4 years ago

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Kittens for Quarantine (1/2) (CSJJ Day 16)

A/N: I originally came up with this idea during lockdown in 2020, when YouTube channels like Kitten Academy and Kitten Lady were essential to my sanity (what little of it there is). I hoped to have it finished in time for today, but it turned into more of a beast that I anticipated, so I’m afraid I’ll have to post it in two parts. Part 2 will come in Feb, as to not distract from any of the wonderful CSJJ pieces scheduled for the second half of January.

Thank you @csjanuaryjoy for all your hard work organizing this event!!!

Trigger warning: Pandemic.

Summary: During a storm, a stray cat runs into Emma’s home. Killian, Storybrooke’s new shelter manager, comes to help her out but some more unexpected arrivals mean Emma and her son are going to need a crash course on cat and kitten care.

AO3

~*~

Arms laden with bags of groceries and rain pelting her face, Emma Swan struggled to get the key into the lock of her front door. Wet strands of her blonde hair stuck to her face, obscuring her vision even more.

Just as she was about to give up and call her 12 year-old son, Henry, to come open the door for her, the key slipped into the lock. Emma shouldered open the door before dropping the bags onto the floor so they held it open.

"Henry, come start putting the groceries away," She yelled into the large house.

Too large of a house for just the two of them, honestly, but Emma had fallen in love with the blue Queen Anne Revival-style home when her realtor first gave them a tour, even though it was a little of a fixer-upper. At over 100-years-old, that was to be expected. It had been a little out of her price range until the City of Storybrooke helped her secure a better mortgage deal, as long as she agreed to restore the home to its former glory.

The arrival of her help was preceded by loud thumps as Henry ran down the stairs. He flashed her a grin as he grabbed a couple of bags and hauled them to the kitchen.

With a shake, Emma prepared herself to brave the raging storm once again to retrieve the remaining bags. She'd hoped to be home before it started, but Leroy's van broke down in the middle of Main Street and she'd needed to help divert traffic until the tow truck could get there. She was lucky, she reminded herself as she loaded her arms up with bags, that Storybrooke was such a calm town and rarely needed its Sheriff for anything serious enough to keep her from getting home on time. A far cry from her years working as a bail bonds agent in Boston.

A streak of lightning blinded Emma for a moment as she made her way toward her house, followed shortly after by a large crash of thunder. She hoped that the storm wouldn't damage any powerlines. She'd just bought two pints of ice-cream... which were sitting on the kitchen counter, melting, with no Henry in sight.

With a frown, Emma kicked the door shut. It wasn't like Henry to abandon a job half done, nor to abuse ice-cream in such away. After dropping the bags on the kitchen floor and her reusable fabric mask in the basket marked "Dirty", she washed her hands before going in search of her son.

"Kid, where’d you go?" she called out.

Emma almost missed his reply thanks to another crash of thunder but she was just able to hear enough to determine he was upstairs, and she found him in her bedroom on the top floor. He was crouched on the floor and looking underneath her bed. Henry looked up when she entered and told her, "I saw something small run into the house while you were outside and followed it in here. I think it’s a cat."

Emma blinked in shock. A cat?

She joined Henry on the floor and peered under her bed. A pair of yellow eyes set in a colorful face stared back at her.

Wide-eyed, she sat back on her heels. There was definitely a cat under her bed. Not an ideal situation but it was a hundred times better than the other likely hood, a raccoon.

"Umm... I guess we should call David?"

Henry nodded in agreement. Emma's good friend and Deputy was the head volunteer for the local animal shelter and would be able to arrange for someone to come and get their interloper. After she shooed Henry back downstairs to finish putting away the groceries, Emma called David.

He answered with a cheerful "Emma!"

“A cat ran into the house and is hiding under my bed," she blurted out.

There was a pause before David let out a boisterous laugh. "Sorry, sorry," he said, sounding breathless, "that was not what I was expecting."

"Neither was I," she replied.

David chuckled at her sardonic tone. "I'll give Killian a call. He'll be able to coordinate someone to come help you out."

"Who?"

"Killian Jones, the new Shelter Manager the City hired. He started about six weeks ago, not long before lockdown started."

Emma vaguely remembered a discussion during a City Council meeting last year about a grant from the state to expand the shelter, which also allowed for more full-time staff to be hired. But she didn't recall anything on the topic after that. Of course, she could barely remember what happened last week since 2020 was so chaotic.

"I don't think I've met him yet," she admitted. Normally, Emma made a point to introduce herself to new people who moved to town. But with social interaction outside your household being discouraged due to the pandemic, she wasn't doing so.

"He used to help run a not-for-profit rescue group in NYC," David told her. “Grew tired of city life, though, and wanted a change."

Given the current situation in NYC, he was lucky to have moved to Maine when he did, Emma mused.

"Anyways, I'll give him your number so he can reach out."

After a quick thanks, Emma ended the call. With a sigh, she stretched out on her stomach and eyed her unexpected guest. The cat hadn't moved and continued to stare back at her. Its face was a mix of black, orange and white. The pupils of its eyes looked fully dilated and its ears were flat and sticking out sideways, which worried Emma until a quick internet search informed her that the cat was probably anxious or afraid and unlikely to become aggressive unless they began to feel threatened. Which would probably be the case if Emma tried to remove the cat from its current hiding spot on her own. As much as she didn't want to invite a possible stranger into her home, much less her bedroom, she also didn't want to risk getting bit and/or scratched, and having to make a visit to the hospital as a result.

Resigned to waiting for the animal expert, Emma heaved herself up off the floor. She left the cat trapped in her bedroom and made her way downstairs. Henry already had most of the groceries away, except those that needed to go in places he couldn't reach. Though with the way he was growing, it wouldn't be long before she would need to find a new hiding spot for her secret stash of chocolate.

Her phone rang around 10 minutes later, vibrating loudly on the kitchen table. Since it was a number she didn't recognize, she hoped it was Killian Jones or another shelter volunteer who could help her out.

"Is this Emma Swan?" A surprisingly accented voice replied to her casual greeting. At her affirmative, her caller continued, "this is Killian; David told me you have a bit of a problem with a stray cat.''

"You could say that. It ran inside and has taken up residence under my bed."

A deep chuckle reverberated across the line. "Probably seeking shelter from the storm.”

Honestly, Emma couldn't blame the cat for wanting inside where it was warm and dry. She'd done the same during her time on the streets, even going so far as to break into empty houses when desperate.

"I'd rather not call out any of the volunteers in this weather, but it'll be around an hour until I can make it over to help you out. Will that be alright?"

Emma's nose scrunched in annoyance at having to wait, but reminded herself that this wasn't exactly an emergency. After telling Killian that would be fine, they ended the call and Emma text him her address.

To pass the time, Emma set about making a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup for Henry and herself. They were doing the dishes, her washing and him drying, when there was a knock on the door. They both donned clean masks before she pulled the door open and she found herself looking into a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. They and some black eyebrows were all that was visible of the man's face, since he wore a beanie pulled low over his forehead and a colorful paw-print patterned mask.

"Emma Swan, I hope?" The man – Killian - asked. She nodded and quickly invited him inside as lightning streaked across the sky. She didn't want another startled animal running inside after all.

Killian removed a wet rain jacket, plaid scarf, and beanie, hanging them on the coat tree by the door. His dark hair was flat against his head thanks to the beanie until he ran a hand through it, mussing the strands until they were casually messy. He wore a dark button-up under an equally dark vest – who still wore vests - with the top few buttons undone, revealing a decent amount chest hair and the chain of a long necklace. This was paired with tight, black jeans that hugged a trim waist above sturdy looking boots.

Emma wasn't sure what she was expecting someone who ran an animal shelter to look like, but sexy punk-rock professor wasn't it. When her eyes returned to Killian’s face, she realized that he must have been aware that she’d been checking him out because she was met with a raised brow and amused blue eyes. She’d bet money that he was smirking beneath his mask as well.

“The cat is upstairs,” she announced before turning around to hide the blush she could feel making its way up her neck. She listened to Henry regale Killian with the tale of the cat’s sudden arrival as she led the way upstairs. At her door, she paused.

“Excuse the mess. We only moved in a few weeks ago,” Emma murmured, suddenly feeling the need to explain the piles of boxes still scattered around her room.

Killian’s soft laugh sent a shiver down her back. “Don’t worry lass, I won’t judge. Been in my new place for nearly two months and still have a fair few boxes left myself.”

With a sharp nod, she let Killian into her room, but directed Henry to remain in the hall. She stood back as Killian set down a small cat carrier she hasn’t noticed before and kneeled next to her bed, peering under it. She tried not to watch as his jeans hugged his shapely ass even more than before.

Killian raised his head and looked at her over his shoulder. “Lass, there is no cat under there.”

“What?” Emma immediately dropped down and looked for herself, but Killian was right. There was no cat underneath her bed anymore. She jumped up and looked around for any other places where a cat could go. The door to her ensuite bathroom was closed, as was the one to her closet.

“She’s probably behind some of the boxes.”

They started checking the various nooks and corners created by the haphazard piles of boxes. She was about to pick-up a partially open box labeled “blankets” when she heard a small squeak come from within it. Startled, she slowly lifted the flap of the box to peer inside.

“Umm…” was all she could initially get out. “I found the cat.”

Killian appeared at her shoulder and let out a surprised “oh!” when he looked down. Inside the box was not only the cat from earlier, which Emma could now see was a calico, but also two small, squirming kittens. One was black with little white paws and the other looked to be a calico like the mother.

“Look at you,” Killian crooned at the cat as he folded back all the flaps of the box. “Such a good mom, finding somewhere safe to have your babies.”

Emma marveled at how small the kittens were and couldn’t bring herself to be upset that they’d been born on one of her favorite knit blankets. Everyone one, cats included, deserved a safe, comfortable place to give birth.

Killian slowly reached his hand into the box. The mom cat watched attentively but didn’t make any move to stop Killian as he carefully grabbed the black kitten and lifted it partway out of the box. It let out a high pitched squeak and flailed its small limbs as Killian checked it over. As he did so, Emma noticed that he was still wearing a glove on his left hand and that it appeared oddly stiff.

“I think that one is a little boy,” he whispered, placing the kitten back at a nipple to nurse. He repeated the processes with the calico kitten, who he declared it was most likely a girl.

“Male calicos,” he told her in a calm, soft voice, poking around the mother cat’s belly as he did so, “are extremely rare and only happen because of a genetic abnormality.”

Emma didn’t know enough about genetics to really understand why that would happen, but she would definitely look it up later. After another minute, Killian pulled his hand from the box and sat back. “It doesn’t feel like she has anymore kittens in her, so these two are probably it.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Less for the shelter to take care of.”

Killian’s hand rose and made to rub across his face, obviously a habit, but he caught himself before he touched his mask. “I’m afraid the kittens complicate things.”

Emma sighed. Of course it would.

“The shelter isn’t set up to care for cats with kittens this small,” he informed her, “most aren’t, so they rely on people willing to foster the families until they can be adopted out.”

Killian scratched behind his ear as he continued, “Storybrooke doesn’t have a large foster network to begin with and very few are willing to care for mom cats with new kittens. Those that can are already doing so and I don’t think any of them will have space for more for another couple of weeks.”

This wasn’t completely new information. David often complained about the lack of foster families in town and how often they needed to reach out to nearby organizations for help. It was one of the main reasons David convinced the City to apply for the state grant program to improve the shelter.

“Can you take them?” She suggested, hopeful.

With a sad look in his eyes, Killian shook his head. “I have two orphan litters at home, one of which is only three weeks old. I wouldn’t be able to provide an appropriate level of care for any of them if I took in another.”

The idea of orphan kittens hit Emma right in the heart. Orphans, no matter the species, were always a sensitive topic for her because of her past. She studied the two wiggling kittens nursing away in front of her for a moment. Killian was regarding her with an unreadable expression on his face when she looked back over at him.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take care of these three until I can arrange another home?”

Emma blinked in shock. “What? I don’t know how to take care of a normal cat, much less one with kittens!” She exclaimed.

“It’s not that hard, really, I promise,” he held his hands up in front of him to convey his honesty at her suspicious look. “Leto here does all the hard work. You’ll mostly just be feeding her, checking the kitten’s weights to make sure they’re getting enough milk, and socializing them a bit.”

“Leto? You’ve already named the cat?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed and scratched behind his ear. “Aye, Leto. She was a Greek goddess and one of Zeus’ lovers. Her story came to mind earlier and the name stuck.”

Incredulous, Emma could only stare at Killian, who flushed under her scrutiny.

“What is her story?” Emma eventually asked, curious.

“Leto is considered the goddess of motherhood or a protector of the young. But she is mostly known for being the mother of the goddess Artemis and god Apollo. But when Leto first became pregnant, Zeus’ wife, Hera was enraged and made all lands shun her to prevent her from having anywhere to give birth. Eventually she came upon the newly created island Delos, which was not yet attached to the earth and therefore wasn’t land. There she was able to finally give birth.”

Even Emma had to admit that the name was appropriate. “So the girl is Artemis and the boy Apollo?”

Killian nodded.

Emma shrugged. “Works for me. Now, how do you socialize a kitten? I imagine it doesn’t involve signing them up for extracurricular activities,” she joked.

“Handling them in order to get them accustomed to it. Basically playing with kittens, but with purpose.” From the crinkles next to his eyes, Killian was grinning under his mask.

“Won’t that make her mad?” Emma nodded at Leto, who was currently licking Apollo’s head.

Killian shook his head. “She let me handle them without a problem, so I doubt she’ll object to you doing so. Why don’t you give it a try?” He encouraged.

After taking a fortifying breath, Emma slowly reached into the box. Like before, Leto watched Emma’s hand intently but did nothing to stop her from grasping little Artemis and lifting her up. The kitten let out a squeak that caused her mom to lean forward and sniff at her for a moment, but they both settled down a moment later. Emma held the kitten for another minute before setting her back down.

There was pride in Killian’s voice when he told her, “She trusts you.”

Her own voice held a touch of awe when she replied, “I guess she does.”

They sat and watched the little family of three for a couple of minutes before Killian broke the silence to ask, “So, will you take care of them? At least for a couple of weeks?”

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

An exuberant “Yes!” came from the door of her room and Emma looked up to see Henry watching from where her door was opened a couple of inches. A door she distinctly remembered closing.

Killian gracefully rose from the floor and immediately held out his hand to help her before he remembered the “no touching” rules they all lived under now. He pulled his hand back with a frustrated growl, the sound of which did wonderful things to Emma’s nether regions. She clenched her legs together as she stood, inwardly curing that such a simple sound turned her on. She’d have to deal with that later.

“I’m going to grab some supplies from my truck that you can use,” Killian told her as they left her room. “Can you two get a medium sized box and some towels or blankets together?”

With a nod, she and Henry collected the items in the empty room Emma intended to one day turn into an office. When Killian returned, he cut a large hole in the front box and then a small one at the back, through which he threaded the cord of a heating pad. He added a folded towel along the bottom before placing the entire thing within a large dog crate. An old blanket, small litter box, and water and food dishes went in as well.

At each step Killian explained what he was doing and why, and she watched as Henry soaked up the information like a sponge. “The heating pad needs to be plugged into a secondary thermostat in order to keep it from becoming too hot.”

Soon the whole set up was ready for its new inhabitants and Emma carefully carried the box with Leto and her kittens down from her bedroom. At Killian’s direction, she placed Artemis and Apollo into the new box. Soon her kitten’s squeaks drew Leto’s attention and when she hopped out of the blanket box and went into the new one to retrieve them, they shut the crate door behind her. She paced around the crate for a moment before going into the box and curling up with her babies.

Killian draped a large blanket over the crate, “Its best to leave her be for a bit to let her get settled in.”

The cat crisis taken care of, the three of them made their way back downstairs. Henry immediately started texting photos of Leto and her kittens to all of his friends. They were, she was quickly informed, insanely jealous.

“I’m sure they are now. Send them some photos of you scooping the litterbox tomorrow and I bet they’ll be less envious,” she informed her son, which earned a chuckle from Killian.

He chimed in with, “People often forget the less glamourous side of having pets and how much work it can be.” He’d definitely know all about that, running a shelter.

As Killian looped his scarf around his neck, he asked, “I’d like to come back tomorrow to check-in on Leto and I’ll also bring some more cat food, if that is alright.”

Emma nodded, thrilled that they would still have his help in taking care of Leto and her kittens. She was also glad that it meant that she would see Killian again, as ill-advised as socializing was right now. Not only was he handsome, even with half his face covered, but he was a pleasant person. Obviously caring, given what he did, and he had a sense of humor.

“I left a cheat-sheet upstairs that has what you need to do and how, as well as what to look out for. But if you have any questions, any at all, you can call me,” Killian assured her, “Day or night.”

As much as she would love to hear what Killian’s voice sounded like when he first woke up, she didn’t want to rely on him too heavily. He did have a full-time job and two litters of kittens to care for, after all.

“Any other resources you recommend we check out?”

For some reason, her questioned caused Killian to blush. “Oh… um…” he stuttered. “I actually have a small YouTube channel about pet fostering, specifically cats, that you could check out.”

Watch video of Killian playing with kittens? No way was she going to pass that up. “I’ll definitely check it out. What is the channel called?”

If possible, Killian’s already flush skin turned even more read.

“It’s KillyKat.”

~*~

A/N: See you in Feb!

#csjj2021 #csjj 2021 #Captain swan ff #csff #cs ff au #Lee Writes #KforQ #Captain Swan

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aquadrazi · 3 years ago

Text

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 20

………Qinghe………

“Has Wei Ying read the text I asked him to?” Lan Zhan inquired as he threw up the silencing talisman on the room.

Wei Ying was sitting on the bed, fidgeting with the hem of his outer robe, staring at a spot on the floor. He nodded.

“Wei Ying. I need you to use your words. I need to know for sure that you are okay with everything that happens. I WILL NOT bring harm to you, intentionally or not.”

“Y-yes, I have read the texts.”

Why am I so nervous?

Lan Zhan won’t hurt me.

Well, anymore than he has to.

“Is there anything you have questions about? I can bring in Lady Wen if need be-“

“No! No need. It’s alright. I understand.” Wei Ying responded quickly. He just wanted to get this over with.

“Okay, then. What does green mean?”

“Keep going.”

“And Yellow?”

“Pause and talk about what I’m feeling.”

“And Red”

“Stop everything right now.”

“Good Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan praised soothingly.

Wei Ying’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was starting to get dizzy from the anticipation of what they were going to do.

Why am I so nervous?

It isn’t like I haven’t had worse done to me.

Is it because I have a choice this time?

Is it because it’s Lan Zhan?

Wei Ying smelled a strong aroma of sandalwood and realized that Lan Zhan had lit an incense burner, probably to help calm him.

“Would Wei Ying prefer to be clothed, partially covered, or naked?” Lan Zhan asked gently.

“Can we start….partially covered?” Wei Ying replied timidly.

“Of course. Whatever Wei Ying wants.”

Wei Ying felt his face flush hot red.

“I shall wait behind the privacy screen, just summon me when you are ready.” Lan Zhan hurried behind the screen. “Take your time.”

Wei Ying sat for a minute, taking deep breaths.

I can do this.

It won’t be so bad.

Lan Zhan won’t hurt me more than he has to.

I can pause if the pain gets to be too much.

Lan Zhan has given me a way to be in control of my pain.

He slowly removed his robes and laid back on the bed, covering his naked body with a blanket.

“Okay, ready.” He said once he was sure his voice wouldn’t tremble.

Lan Zhan slowly, and deliberately walked back around the privacy screen.

“The procedure calls for the receiver to be bound. Apparently the flushing of resentful energy can get pretty violent and the binding of the wrists and ankles helps to prevent injuries.” Lan Zhan reminded, apologetically.

“It’s okay Lan Zhan. I read the text. You can tie me up.”

Lan Zhan frowned slightly, but didn’t say anything. He reached for one of the long silk ties that A-Sang had provided. Lan Zhan wrapped it once around Wei Ying’s left wrist, not too tightly, as to not cut off circulation, and he didn’t tie it so Wei Ying could free himself if need be. He then securely tied it to the bed.

“Color?”

Wei Ying took a deep breath, “green.”

Lan Zhan continued with the other wrist and both ankles, checking in each time to make sure Wei Ying was okay.

Wei Ying was now laying, spread open on the bed. He was glad he had chosen to cover himself with a blanket. He felt so exposed as it was.

Lan Zhan opened the jar of oil A-Sang had provided and coated his index and middle fingers with a generous amount.

“Can you bend your knees for me?”

Wei Ying hurried to comply. He already felt his head getting fuzzy. He let out a gasp as he felt the liquid being rubbed against the sensitive skin of his tight entrance.

“Color?”

“Gr-green”

Wei Ying closed his eyes and clenched down on his teeth in anticipation of the searing pain he was no doubt about to feel when Lan Zhan would slide into him. It had been so long since he’d been stretched he was sure that it was going to be bad.

“Wei Ying, what’s wrong?” Lan Zhan had stopped what he was doing and was looking at him with concern.

“Its okay…I can take it…” Wei Ying was tense and bracing himself.

When he felt a kiss on the inside of his left thigh, Wei Ying’s eyes flew open. “Lan Zhan?”

“Wei Ying is scared.” Lan Zhan placed kisses up his thigh, across his abdomen, and down his other thigh. “Will not continue until Wei Ying is ready.”

Wei Ying felt himself start to get aroused. Lan Zhan was being so gentle with him, kissing and licking, never biting, never causing pain in his sensitive areas.

He shuddered and sighed as Lan Zhan lightly trailed fingers down his sides, then back up his chest. It felt like he was waking up Wei Ying’s nerves, making them tingle in pleasure. Wei Ying watch the blanket move as Lan Zhan trailed his fingers along Wei Ying’s bare chest, then down the outside of this legs to his knees.

Lan Zhan moved out from under the blanket and started to plant gentle kisses along Wei Ying’s jaw. He trailed his fingers slowly and lightly up the exposed underside of Wei Ying’s arms, long strokes to the silk binding his wrists, and back down to his shoulders.

When Lan Zhan ever so slightly brushed his finger across one of Wei Ying’s palms he let out a gasp and his back arched.

“Mmmmm” Lan Zhan hummed. He started to brush his finger torturously down one finger, circling it in the palm, then up another finger, sending pleasurable sensations shooting down his hand and arm. Lan Zhan brushed his lips teasingly against Wei Ying’s as he continued to run his finger along the palm and fingers of Wei Ying’s hands.

“Lan Zhaaaaan” Wei Ying moaned against his lips. “Where did you learn to dooo this?”

“Wei Ying did not read any of the dual cultivation texts, did he?”

“I thought we were cleansing, not cultivating today.” Wei Ying whined.

Lan Zhan nibbled on Wei Ying’s ear lobe, and he was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. “Just because we are cleansing, does not mean that Wei Ying cannot enjoy the process.”

Wei Ying’s moan was swallowed by Lan Zhan’s mouth as Lan Zhan rolled on top of Wei Ying and torturously brushed his backside along his now raging arousal.

“The Cleansing procedure has many things in common with one of the dual cultivation techniques I was interested in trying with you.” Lan Zhan murmured into Wei Ying’s ear, at just the right angle to send a jolt down his side all the way to his lower back.

Wei Ying felt so incredibly turned on. His entire body felt warm and tingly. Suddenly the blanket was too much, he needed it off. “Lan Zhan…”

“Mn”

“I need the blanket off, Lan Zhan…please…”

Lan Zhan carefully rolled off of Wei Ying and pulled the blanket back, leaving it bunched off to the side. He sat for a few seconds, watching Wei Ying’s body writhe with need.

“Please…”

“Anything, Wei Ying.”

“Please…I-I need…”

“Would Wei Ying like to continue?”

“GREEN! Please! More, PLEASE!”

Lan Zhan moved down between Wei Ying’s legs He placed the Stygian Tiger Seal on Wei Ying’s chest and Wei Ying whined and thrust his hips into the air.

“Lan Zhaaaaan….”

This time when Wei Ying felt an oiled finger probing around his entrance, he let out a needy moan and rocked his hips. Lan Zhan placed his other hand on Wei Ying abdomen, just above his dantian, holding him down.

When Lan Zhan started to work the one oiled finger inside of Wei Ying, he threw his head back and bit back a cry.

“Color”

“Green” Wei Ying attempted to roll down into Lan Zhan’s hand, to feel more of the man inside of him.

“Slowly, do not want to hurt Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan gently eased the finger in, then circled all around, coating Wei Ying’s insides with oil. Wei Ying let out a punched out cry when the tip of Lan Zhan’s finger hit a spot that was so pleasurable that he was seeing stars.

“Right there. Again. PLEASE…”

Lan Zhan obliged and rubbed the spot again, forcing deep moans from Wei Ying’s throat. Wei Ying twisted and squirmed on the bed as Lan Zhan took his time inserting a second finger, gently working it in, allowing his tight muscles time to stretch.

This was so different that any other time Wei Ying could remember. There was a slight discomfort, but not enough to call pain. And now that Lan Zhan had found the SPOT, he kept brushing against it, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his leaking cock.

The first time Lan Zhan sent a small trickle of spiritual energy through his fingers, hitting the SPOT, Wei Ying bucked and cried out in pleasure.

“GREEN!” He screamed, without being asked.

“Please… more…” Wei Ying panted.

Lan Zhan obliged, sending out gradually stronger streams of spiritual energy. Wei Ying nearly lost his mind when Lan Zhan started also sending spiritual energy through his other hand, place right over the spot that his core should have been.

He was lost in a sea of pleasure, riding the waves being pushed into his body by Lan Zhan, slowly building in magnitude. He felt a burst of pleasure and he realized that he had come. He screamed and writhed as the pleasure quickly built on the overstimulation and he was somehow still hard and building towards an even higher climax.

As Lan Zhan’s spiritual energy began to flood his body in large waves, he heard the screaming of the resentful energy as it was being forcibly pushed from his body. Through the haze of pleasure Wei Ying was vaguely aware of the black tendrils oozing from his body and collecting in the Stygian Tiger Seal. He was also vaguely aware of the pain the resentful energy was causing as it was being forced out, but he was on the verge of another powerful climax and the pain was drown out by the pleasure when he came again.

After that, Wei Ying lost all sense of time. He lost the ability to think. His entire world was ever-building waves of pleasure coursing through his body. At some point the screaming stopped, but Wei Ying didn’t care. He just kept sobbing “green” and “please” and “more” as he came over, and over, each more powerful that the last.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bliss, Lan Zhan sent him a wave of pleasure so powerful that his vision went white when he came, and he passed out.

#mdzs fic #the untamed #smut #gay smut #shameless smut

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kentuckywrites · 4 years ago

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His Body, The Canvas

Pongo has gone missing, and @shunkuroichii ‘s Shun, @pish-posh-mish-mosh ‘s Mira, and @shymindmeta ‘s Sy’Chell grow concerned about his whereabouts. As fate would have it, Pongo went to face a dragon, and the results were unexpected...

A rewrite of Like A Canvas, a fic I wrote a little over three years ago.

Cauldros was an unforgiving terrain, the skies and the land full of ash and flame. Today it was raining fire, brimstone crashing down onto the molten floor. It’d be foolish to come on a day like this, but Pongo flew his Skell into the continent with no second thoughts. It was perfect weather to face the creature that had hurt his friend.

Sy’Chell had almost brushed over the topic. Pongo had been curious as to whether or not Sy could see once, what had caused him to end up in this state. Sy opened up, told him that this was not by choice, that a creature born of the ashes of Cauldros had taken his sight. Pongo knew exactly which indigen he’d been referring to. He knew where to find it, what prior conditions it needed to appear. He knew its name, how it would not be so easily killed.

Vortice, the Deific Blast. A Class 94 Tyrant, one of the most powerful indigens on Mira, and certainly one of the deadliest in Cauldros. Pongo hid his intent to kill it in conversation, though beneath the skin his blood boiled with rage. The planet was aware of his anger, and any attempts it made to calm him ended in silence. He’d packed his things, refueled Eros, stacked as many Piscinoid augments as he could fit into it, and took off without informing anyone. Pongo could use excuses, if anyone questioned him. He’d grown better at lying after all this time.

Pongo’s target became visible on the horizon as Eros flew ever closer to Mount M’Gando. Pongo clutched the controls of his beloved Skell tightly, his knuckles turning white. Taking down a tyrant solo was nearly unheard of in BLADE, with only the most experienced able to claim that distinction for themselves. Had those BLADEs fought with a similar vengeance? Had it burned in their cores to the point of overflowing? Pongo tried to steady his breaths as his thoughts began to eat away at him from the inside. He wasn’t going to turn back now, not when avenging Sy was on the line.

Vortice roared, circling the top of Mount M’Gando and soaking in its heat. Pongo pushed Eros forward, forward. He waited until he was in range to fire, and when the first diskbombs deployed from his weapon, he finally let his rage consume him.

Pongo was supposed to babysit Apollo and Asteria. He should’ve arrived an hour ago. But he never came. No texts, no calls, he’d simply disappeared.

Mira could feel from the first minute that something was wrong. He wouldn’t blow something like this off, and it was even more unlike him to not respond to her texts. She curled into herself more as Shun paced in front of her, hands in his pockets. The silence in their barracks was deafening, his footsteps on the cold metal floor hardly registering as sound. She was thankful the kids were both asleep now, but hearing them up and about would’ve been a blessing in that hour of waiting.

“Still nothing?”

Mira shook her head. “No. You?”

“Nothing at all.” Shun removed his hands from his pockets to run his fingers through his hair, still maintaining his rhythmic pacing. “I’m worried. Really worried.”

“I am too. This isn’t like him,” She replied, taking a shaky breath, “I think we should go out there and look for him.”

“Where would we look? We don’t have any clues. And we can’t just leave Apollo and Asteria alone to -”

A growl interrupted Shun’s rambling. Mira’s head turned to Sy, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch with his arms folded across his chest. It was hard to tell what face he was making underneath his helmet, but when he raised his hands and motioned downwards, it became clear that he was telling Shun to calm down. Shun sighed, stopping in front of the coffee table. Somehow his expression remained blank, but hidden in his eyes was the concern of a protective older brother. Mira stood herself up, leaving her comm device on the couch as she circled the table to approach him. She reached for his hands, taking them within her own and squeezing gently.

“Wherever he is, I bet he’s fine,” She said, partially to convince Shun and partially to convince herself, “He’s strong, remember?”

“But what if something happened?” Shun responded frantically, “What if he got launched into Mount M’Gando? What if he was captured by the Ganglion and is being held hostage? What if he lost his legs to an Ictus? What if -”

“Shun.”

Mira cut him short by squeezing his hands again, and his fingers instinctively curled into hers. Shun’s words hadn’t failed to embed themselves into her brain, raise worries that she hadn’t thought possible. Pongo was strong, that she knew for certain, but he had a tendency to exceed his own limitations.

When Shun didn’t answer immediately, Mira decided to take the reigns, asking some calm yet possibly informative questions. “When was the last time we saw him? What was the last mission he took? Maybe he’s running late on a big expedition.”

“Yesterday,” Shun shook his head, “He was leaving out of the east gate. Didn’t get to talk to him since I was wrapping up a mission with Eleanora.”

“Pongo babysat the kids on Tuesday,” Mira said, “and that was the last time I saw him. Sy?”

Sy stood up, his Casca reflecting the barracks light. Slowly approaching the two, he pulled out his comm device and began to type furiously. Mira waited patiently until he flipped the screen around, showing what he’d written out.

I saw him on Tuesday as well. We were talking over dinner after we ran into each other in the commercial district. In conversation I told Pongo how I was blinded, and afterwards he wasn’t acting the same.

Shun squinted, reading alongside Mira. His hands became tense after he finished and he quickly looked away. Mira frowned, confused. “Sy, if you don’t mind me asking...do you know why Pongo would’ve reacted the way he did?”

Sy nodded and returned his focus to his comm device, typing out something new. When he directed the screen towards them again, Mira’s blood went cold.

I could be wrong, but...perhaps he meant to avenge my loss of sight by defeating the very creature that took it: Vortice, the Deific Blast.

“No. No.”

Shun practically ripped his hands out of Mira’s, heading for the weapons rack they kept close to the door. He picked up his dual guns, checking the cartridges as he spoke. It would be hardly noticeable to the average ear, but Mira could pick out how his voice quivered. “I bet he didn’t bring backup. He never brings backup. Did he even tell anyone where he was going? Damn it, what if we get there and it’s too late, what if -”

“Shun!” Mira called his name again, and he went silent, staring at her, waiting. To her left, Sy reached for her upper arm, holding up his comm device with a new message displayed on its screen.

Go with him to Cauldros. I’ll stay here and watch the kids.

Mira knew better than to argue. Shun would want her to come - the more the merrier, after all - and the kids would both understand why they left. She could see it now, the future memory of her sitting with Asteria as she painted upon a new canvas with her little fingers, asking about what dangerous missions she’d gone on and how many people she’d saved. Mira would tell the story about how she and Shun saved Pongo from a dragon, a prince in distress, and Asteria would begin to absentmindedly paint the scene as best she could, eyes wide with wonder. She’d nail the volcano, the three little figures of her family, the Deific Blast floating overhead casting its fire upon them. Would she be the knight this time, or would Shun? Who would hold the shield that protected Pongo, and who would wield the sword to slay the mighty beast?

Mira took two steps forward, about to trail Shun and grab her weapons, when the front door clicked.

It swung towards them silently, revealing a figure standing in the doorway, shoulders slumped and knees shaking. One arm was using the doorframe as support, though its lack of purchase did almost nothing to stabilize him. His hair was frizzy, unkempt, sticking up in strange directions in a chaos similar to Shun’s. His clothes were torn, some parts of his vest hanging on by mere threads. Mira grew increasingly concerned as the figure entered, and she realized he wasn’t wearing shoes, though a pair of worn down socks still covered his feet. That and his fingers were what grabbed her attention the most. It was hard to see, almost unnoticeable since he was wearing fingerless gloves, but under the shredded fabric were lines of blues and purples and reds and yellows, cascading frequently and without remorse. When he picked his head up, the lines became more apparent, strokes of paint that were eerily beautiful, the roots of a tree that had seen hell and survived. Somehow he was able to smile, though it was clear the action was painful to hold.

Shun reacted first.

“You fucking idiot.”

He put his dual guns down quickly before running up and taking Pongo in for a tight hug. Mira winced as she heard Pongo audibly cry out in pain, and Shun stepped back quickly, his hands hovering near Pongo’s shoulders as he scanned him over. Mira soon joined him, noticing that the brush strokes extended down his neck and into his torso. It would make sense if the markings on his fingers pushed further beyond as well.

“We’re happy you’re back in one piece,” She started, “But you look really hurt. Do you mind taking your vest off so I can bandage you up?”

“No, wait, we should get him to the MMC,” Shun protested, “It looks worse than meets the eye. I’m not even sure why you came here first -”

Pongo didn’t appear to be listening to him, though he turned to Mira and began to shrug off what little of his combat vest remained. With the longer sleeves disposed of, Mira could see his arms were coated in the markings, and they visibly went into his chest. Pongo, however, made no move to take off the tank top that he wore underneath his vest.

“Please, Pongo,” Mira reached out and put as gentle a hand as she could on his shoulder. But even the tiniest amount of contact made him shudder. As Shun reached down and collected what Pongo had removed, Mira began to usher Pongo further into the room, further into the light. He let her guide him, putting up little resistance. Even without showcasing his body, the canvas decorated in failed duty, it would have been obvious to Mira that he was wounded. There was something beneath the surface, more roots penetrating below the skin, that was sapping his strength.

In the common area, Sy made a small noise, likely one of worry. But Mira focused on keeping Pongo steady, and she moved to his backside and began to unzip the back of his tank top. Her hands were slow and steady, but her breaths shook as every new stroke of paint was revealed. She had been right; these scars extended onto his torso, but they seemed to pass down below his belt, too. There was no part of his skin untouched by the paint.

It was horrifying. It was painful to look at, painful to imagine the circumstances.

“Holy shit…” Shun placed Pongo’s tattered vest and gloves on the couch, able to see Pongo’s front half, the damage he’d been hiding. Mira helped Pongo slip out of the tank top and tossed it into the pile Shun had made. His chest was just as bad as his back, if not worse. A tear formed in the corner of Mira’s eye, and though she tried to hide the reason she was wiping her eye, Pongo caught on.

“I am alright, I promise...just a few bruises. I have faced worse.”

“A few bruises? A few?!” Shun was holding back as much as he could, but every ounce of anger and concern and frustration was leaking through his veyes. “You’re really hurt, Pongo. How can’t you see that?!”

Sy growled loudly, throwing his shoulders back as he added on to what Shun had said. Pongo’s eyes went wide, his smile fading. “Did you really expect me to sit back and not do anything about it?! You did not deserve what happened to you - I can and will take more hits than this to see your revenge carried out.”

Another set of growls, and Pongo began to cry, tears staining his purple and red cheeks. “You do not understand!! I fought to avenge you because I care about you!!” His chest heaved and he took a deep breath, hands shaking at his sides. “But in the end, I...it got away, neither of us died, and I failed you Sy’Chell I am so sorry I failed you -”

“Be quiet.” Shun told Pongo sternly, “None of that matters right now. You need rest.”

Mira opened her mouth, ready to agree, but Pongo cried out, “I will not rest until that fucking monster pays for what it did!!”

The force of his own voice, a vigor that did not match his physical state, caused Pongo to yelp in pain. Mira knew that all previous attempts at contact led to pain, and yet she knew Pongo thrived off of physical touch. She took one of his hands in both her own, caressing the skin beneath as softly as possible. She could swear she felt his blood tingling, occasional pulses pushing through, the faintest remnants of static electricity radiating off of his fingertips.

“Honey, do you think you can get the guest bedroom set up?” Mira looked over her shoulder as she began to lead Pongo away, “I’m taking him to the bathroom to get him patched up as best I can.”

Shun nodded, effortlessly walking past Pongo and Mira to get the bedroom organized. Pongo said nothing to retaliate, resigned to his pain, resigned to his weakness. Approaching the hallway towards the bathroom and bedrooms, Mira gave Sy one last sympathetic glance before turning back to Pongo.

That glance was all it took for Pongo to speak to the kids first.

“Good morning, you two!” Pongo chirped, his voice cracking by the end.

Apollo and Asteria hadn’t fully left their bedroom yet, their tiny heads peeking out of the doorframe. Wide eyes and innocent curiosity were given the image of a broken prince, one who had faced a dragon with a sword and shield and came home defeated. They were too young to know the truth - she promised herself that should they ask, Pongo defeated the dragon, he saved the day. It was his determination and resilience alone, a lone fighter in an impossible battle.

“You should get back to sleep, you two,” Mira told them, and they almost listened. But the door stayed propped open as Pongo called out, still attempting to carry the painful burden of a smile.

“Right. I can tell you about these when you get your rest, okay? Sleep is important, especially for you.”

“But Uncle Pon, you don’t sleep at all,” Apollo commented, and Pongo giggled at that.

“The villains never sleep and the heroes never rest, as the saying goes.”

Turning to Asteria, the young and kind and creative little girl Mira loved with all her heart, Pongo offered one last smile.

“I am sorry I was late; maybe we can paint tomorrow?”

#xenoblade x #His Body The Canvas: Short Story #Shun #Mira #sy'chell #THIS WAS SO SATISFYING.....#I amped up the Big Bro Shun a little bit because let's face it #if my little bro walked in covered in lightning scars I'd be a Bit Upset

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tsukkiscake · 4 years ago

Text

what goes on || tsukki x reader || ch. 5

✰ previous || next

✰ masterlist

✰ taglist open!

✰ word count: 2k

During your middle school years, you were always in advanced classes. This meant being in class with some of the same kids every year. Tsukishima Kei was one of them. You guys had been in the same class for all of middle school. At the end of your last semester of middle school, you hear Tsukishima and another one of your classmates, Yamaguchi Tadashi, discussing their plans to attend Karasuno High School. Looks like another year of Tsukishima for you. This year, you were determined to become at least his friend. This was proving to be a lot harder than you originally intended.

Chapter Five: Something

After having told the entire team that Tsukki invited you to the practice match, Daichi, the captain, asked you to hang around practice for a couple of minutes to meet the rest of the team. Somehow, you thought they couldn’t get any weirder than they already were. But that’s when you met Kageyama and Hinata.

You were in the midst of introducing yourself to the other second years, Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita. They seemed the most normal out of the entire team. But as you shook Narita’s hand, this orange-haired bullet broke the handshake by running right between you and Narita.

You watched a taller, black-haired boy follow him. “BOKE HINATA!”

“Wahoo!” The shorter one, Hinata, yelled as he jumped into the gym. “That’s 21 wins for me and 20 wins for you!” He celebrated, looking down at the black-haired boy from the steps of the gym.

“Hm, whatever,” the taller one huffed, getting ready to walk into the gym.

“Hinata, Kageyama, come here a second,” Daichi called over the two boys. “This is (Y/N), she’ll be coming to cheer us on at the Nekoma match.”

“I’m Hinata Shoyo!” He bounced in front of you and you shook his extended hand.

“Kageyama Tobio,” the other one said. You smiled kindly and extended your hand to him, which he hesitantly shook. Like Daichi, his grip was firm and calloused, but his skin was extremely soft.

You smiled at the two boys. “Nice to meet you, I’m excited to see you play!”

You looked at the team around you. Yamaguchi was right, you did like them all. You could tell how passionate each and every one of them was about volleyball. The entire team was milling around you, all except Tsukishima, who at some point during introductions had walked into the gym, not caring to stick around.

“I should get going now, it was really nice to meet you all. I’m excited to cheer for you guys against Nekoma!” You offered everyone a smile and bowed your head.

“You’re not gonna stay and watch us practice?” Hinata asked, his head tilted to the side.

“No I don’t think so, I want to be surprised when I see you guys play for the first time!” You laughed at the idea a little. “I’m gonna make sure to study up on volleyball so I know what’s happening in the match too!”

“OOH okay! I’m excited for you to see me score all the points!” Hinata exclaimed before running into the gym. You laughed at his excitable personality. The boys on the team bid you farewell, but before you left, Yamaguchi stopped in front of you.

“I know Tsukki didn’t actually invite you, but I’m excited for you to come,” he smiled.

“How did you know?”

“The look of pure rage on his face when you said he had invited you,” Yamaguchi laughed slightly. He reached into the pocket of his Karasuno Volleyball Club track jacket and handed you a folded note on his yellow stationery. “Here’s my phone number and Tsukki’s phone number. Text me later and I’ll send you all the details of the match,” Yamaguchi smiled.

“Thanks, Yamaguchi. You’re a good friend,” you returned his smile.

“Well, I better be going inside. Practice is about to start.”

“Of course! Work hard for me!” You waved as he walked inside. Before walking away, you stuck your head in the gym. “Bye Tsukki! See you at the practice match!” You smiled at him, but he glared back at you. “Don’t call me that,” was all he said before returning to helping set the gym up. You huffed and walked away, deciding not to make him anymore upset.

As you walked away, you removed your headphones from your bag and plugged them into your phone. You looked at your playlist, trying to decide which song to put on. You clicked on the song We’re Gonna Be Friends by The White Stripes.

Back to school, ring the bell

Brand new shoes, walking blues

Climb the fence, books and pens

I can tell that we are going to be friends

____________________________________

The day before the match against Nekoma, you were at the market, picking up ingredients to make the strawberry shortcake for Tsukki. You were standing amongst the fresh fruit, deep in thought.

“Hmm… only strawberries? Or lots of different berries?” You glanced at the racks of different fresh fruits. It was the evening, so you thought that Tsukki was probably done with training for the day. You pulled out your phone and clicked on his contact, hoping he would pick up. You hadn’t called or texted him yet, so you weren’t sure if he would answer the call.

It rang four times, but as you were getting ready to hang up Tsukki finally picked up.

“Who is this?” His tone was harsh.

You scoffed. “What a way to greet a lady.”

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? How did you get my number?” Tsukki’s voice was softer, but still cold as ice.

“Well, I got it from Yamaguchi. And I’m calling to ask if you want only strawberries on your shortcake, or if you want strawberries and other berries.”

“Hmm…” He thought about it for a moment. “Just strawberry is fine. I like it classic.”

“Makes sense,” you picked up a box of strawberries and placed them in your shopping basket. “How’s training going?” You asked Tsukki, not wanting to hang up yet.

“Why do you wanna know, runt?”

“Wow, I can’t even be nice to my friends without being questioned. I’m just genuinely curious. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to though,” you shrugged your shoulders, even though Tsukki couldn’t see you.

“Training is hard. I don’t know how some of these guys have endless stamina. By lunch everyday I’m ready to go back to sleep.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t expect him to answer your question, especially when you told him he didn’t have to. “Let me guess, you’re talking about Hinata and Kageyama? I only met them for a couple of seconds but the fact that they raced to the gym says a lot,” you laughed at the memory.

“Yeah, they just keep going. I swear they’re little monsters or something,” Tsukki gave out an exhausted sigh. You laughed, picturing Hinata and Kageyama with fangs and claws.

“Well, it sounds like overall, the camp is going well. I’m gonna bring your cake to the match tomorrow, so make sure you win!” You laughed slightly. “Oh also, can you do me a favor?” You asked him.

“A favor? Why would I do you a favor?”

“Because you love me Tsukki,” you say in a sing-song voice.

“I’m hanging up.”

“NO! I just wanted you to ask what baked sweets the team likes. I thought I could bring them something for after the match, since I’m bringing you cake,” you sighed. Talking to Tsukki could be exhausting.

“Hmm… Okay, I’ll ask them. Give me a second.” You heard a muffled sound, as if he put his phone against his chest.

You wandered through the shop, picking up other ingredients for the shortcake, waiting for Tsukki to respond.

“Do you know how to make Nama Chocolate?”

“I mean yeah, that’s not a baked good, but I can definitely make it if that’s what the team wants!” You smiled and began to search for the ingredients.

“It’s the only thing everyone can agree on, so I think that’ll be fine,” Tsukki said.

“Okay! I’ll prepare everything tonight! I should get going, it’s already getting late and I have a couple hours of baking to look forward to! Bye, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that, runt. Bye,” he hung up first.

You put your phone away and took your basket to the counter to check out. You paid for the ingredients and placed them in your reusable tote bags, leaving the market and heading home.

On the walk back to your house, you thought about Tsukki. You didn’t mean to, but your mind wandered from baking shortcake to the guy who would be eating said shortcake. You thought about how hard it seemed to be to please Tsukishima.

“Hopefully he likes the cake,” you said out loud and sighed.

_________________________________

The next morning, you were up and out of the house with the sweets by 8:15. Before leaving your house, you had carefully wrapped the nama chocolate and placed them in a bento box. As for the cake you were bringing Tsukki, it was placed in a reusable tupperware, specifically for cakes. Due to both sweets needing to be somewhat chilled, you tucked them in a cooler bag that you had slung over your shoulder.

The morning air was still chilly, so you were wearing light washed denim jeans and a gray knit jumper. Your (H/C) hair was down, and you had two berets in to keep loose strands of hair out of your face.

Yamaguchi told you to be at the Karasuno Sports Park at 9:00. That was about a forty minute walk from your house, so you had on a pair of comfortable sneakers. You put your headphones on and got ready for the trek to the sports complex. You shuffled your favorite playlist and slung the cooler bag over your shoulder.

Something by the Beatles rings through your headphones.

Something in the way she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

_______________________________________

You arrived at the Karasuno Sports Park right at 9:00. Yamaguchi told you what gym they’d be in, so you followed the signs pointing to Gym B.

You could hear the squeaking of volleyball shoes against the hard wooden floor. You smiled to yourself and followed the signs directing you to the seating area above the court. You didn’t want to interrupt their warmups before the practice match started.

You wandered into the seating area and sat down in one of the blue plastic chairs that gave you a good view of the entire court. You watched the Karasuno team warm up, not realizing you were kind of staring at Tsukishima as he warmed up.

You smiled and watched them practicing serves, receives, and spikes. After the warmups were conducted, the teams retreated back to their coaches for quick pep talks. After the Karasuno coach gave them a talk, Daichi stepped in. You could hear him from your spot up in the stands.

“Let's play our best today! And remember we have someone here to cheer us on!”

You could feel your cheeks warm up as the entire team turned their heads towards where you were sitting. You gave them a wave and a thumbs up.

“Good luck today!” You yelled, from up in the stands. You smiled, and the entire team smiled back. All except for Tsukki, who had that same expressionless look on his face. “Tsukki! Good luck!” You flashed him peace signs. His eyes widened at you giving him a separate ‘good luck’ from the rest of the team. You saw him nod his head and turn away from you, going to get a drink from his water bottle.

The entire team was buzzing with enthusiasm, you could feel it radiating off of them. You were extremely excited to see the team play. Each member got into position, and you noticed that Tsukki was a starting player. You smiled, sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation, waiting for the game to begin.

The captains chose who would receive first and who would serve first. They returned to their respective spots on the court, and Nekoma’s #5 went to the serving line first.

You held your breath as the whistle blew, signifying the start of the first set.

✰ chapter five! yay! i’m really getting into writing this story! when it comes to things like matches, i’m not going to go into too much detail about them, because we’ve all seen them played out in the anime/manga. i might highlight some important parts but that’s about it!

✰ also, i’m going to incorporate more types of music into the story, because i want to use it as a bridge between you and tsukki!

✰ thank you all for the support, i am excited by every single like, reblog, comment, and follow you guys send my way. i love you all!

✰ taglist: @mitiyou @goopycookie @freyafolkvangr @luckynumberseven @akaashislefttoe @animeanxiety @ysasian @childoftheplanets @tooru-bread @flouffyy

✰ thank you to @1lazyb-tch for beta reading for me and helping out!

✰ here’s the link to the ‘what goes on’ playlist!

✰ let me know if you wanna be on the taglist!

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu-hcs #haikyuu fic #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fic #haikyuu tsukki #tsukki #tsukki x reader #hq tsukki #i love tsukki so much please let me kith him #what goes on fic

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wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

Text

Hiraeth - I.III: Don’t Bite and Tell

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, brief accounts of violence, practice of ritualistic and sacrificial magic, blood and slight gore, etc.

word count: 5,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

“I’ve encountered a couple hunters myself over the years, but never one who hunts and kills witches.” Mark watches Jinyoung pilfer through the scriptures him and the rest of his coven members managed to pull together after Youngjae’s reveal of a possible supernatural hunter in town. A murderous one, at that. Jinyoung skims through another page, before shaking his head, “The original supernatural hunters were created by witches to kill vampires… I don’t understand why one would specifically track down and murder covens? Nor how they have the power to do so?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out now.” With Jinyoung in tow, Mark heads toward the edge of the cemetery. The pair soon reach a small gazebo adorned with overgrown vines, where Youngjae and Jisung are sitting on the ground inside, herded around a large silver bowl, inside a tuft of dark hair and a special charm bracelet that belonged to Nayeon. Jisung holds a squirming black rat between his palms, while Youngjae proceeds to sharpen a silver dagger.

Mark turns back to Jinyoung, “We’re going to perform a spell to track whoever or whatever used dark magic to kill Nayeon.” The vampire nods in understanding, leaning against a pole supporting the top of the gazebo. Mark takes his place between the two witches before sending a white-faced Jisung a glance, “You okay? Or do you want me to do it?” Jisung immediately shoves the rat into his awaiting palms.

Mark takes the creature without a word, offering the youngest witch a soft glance. Once Jisung turns his head away, Mark quickly breaks the rat’s neck, internally wincing at the audible crackling of bones, and nods toward a waiting Youngjae. Youngjae slices open the belly of the rodent, causing warm blood to spill down Mark’s hands and into the silver bowl. Mark watches the bracelet and hair gradually bathe in the thick, red substance, before discarding the dead rat out of sight.

At a call of his name, Jisung returns to the triangle, appearing a bit sick, and joins his hands with Youngjae’s over the bowl while Mark cleans the remaining blood from his skin with a nearby handkerchief. Their clasped fingers immediately begin to glow, allowing both witches to finally begin the incantation:

“Inveniet hostium et tenebrae… Inveniet hostium et tenebrae…” Mark rises to stand beside Jinyoung as the two repeat the chant over and over again. However, his attention is stolen away at the loud, rather hateful call of his name. A sigh of annoyance slides from his lips at the sight of a fuming Minho storming toward the gazebo with a frantic Lia in tow. Mark bids Jinyoung a quick ‘be-right-back’ before hurrying over to the newcomers.

“You let that bloodsucking bastard onto our grounds again!?”

“I’m sorry, Mark! I tried to keep him distracted, but he saw our texts!” Mark waves away Lia’s worries and points her in the direction of the gazebo, leaving him alone with the red-faced, angry-browed witch.

Mark releases another sigh, “I know you’re upset—”

“Upset!? Oh, we’re way past that now…” Minho crosses his arms, “Not only do you completely ignore my warnings, but you go behind my fucking back!? Last I checked, I’m a part of this damn coven too.”

“I had no other choice, Minho. You made it very clear you weren’t on board with our plan—”

“And why should I be!?” He sneers, uncrossing his limbs to wave them at Mark in frustration. “When have the Primes ever done anything to deserve our allyship!? Much less our trust!? You of all people should understand that!”

“Until Nayeon’s killer is found, we are temporarily working with Jinyoung.” Mark pretends not to hear Minho’s last comment, choosing to hide his budding rage beneath a blank, emotionless frown. “He wants to help, okay? And I want to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that my people are safe.”

“They’re not just your people… and just because you think you’re all high and mighty for calling the shots doesn’t give you the right to overrule everyone else!”

“Are you seriously still on this bullshit?...”

Back when the coven was first formed, and before Jisung joined the path down witchhood, Mark, Nayeon, Youngjae, Minho and Lia all came to a consensus that the coven needed a leader. Mark was voted as such by the majority, which he knew, never sat well with Minho.

The younger witch shakes his head, “I’m just saying that you can be a little out of tact with your emotions when it comes to situations like this—”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Mark hisses, unable to hold back the floodgates of his own impending temper. Minho buries his face in his palms, murmuring nonsense while pacing back and forth. He resembles a mad-man, is Mark’s main thought, before he slowly removes his hands and murmurs:

“I’m only trying to prevent a repeat of what happened last time.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Mark growls, “Things are different now. We’re stronger.”

“You say that now, until another one of our people ends up dead.”

Mark frantically shakes his head, “Fucking hell, Minho! I’m doing the best I can here!”

“If you were, then Nayeon would still be alive right now.”

Minho spares one last glance at Mark before spinning on his heel and taking off into the direction he originally came. Mark calls his name, once, then twice, but Minho doesn’t slow his pace. With a heavy heart, Mark follows the younger witch’s form until he disappears behind the gate of the cemetery, leaving behind an even heavier feeling in Mark’s chest.

“Mark?” He inhales a deep breath before peering over his shoulder at Jinyoung. Inside the vampire’s black irises, Mark almost swears he can see a spark of sympathy, but waves it off as a trick of the sunlight.

Jinyoung gestures toward the gazebo, “They found a trace.” No sooner had the syllables left his lips, Mark is already beelining for the decorative structure. He enters to find the three remaining witches deep in discussion.

“What did you find?” Mark’s wave of elated hope expels from his veins at the note of Youngjae’s wide eyes and pursed lips. He glances between Lia and Jisung, but only receives the same disturbed expressions. He shakes his head, “What is it?...”

“It’s worse than we thought, hyung.”

“What do you mean ‘worse’?”

“The spell didn’t trace to the hunter, or an object like we thought—” Youngjae pauses to take a breath, clutching Nayeon’s bloody bracelet in the palm of his hand like a life line. “The one who performed dark magic on Nayeon-noona was another witch…”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “But that doesn’t make any sense? If Nayeon was killed by a supernatural hunter, there’s no way they can also be a—” Before he can finish his thought, the puzzle pieces thundering inside his mind immediately click into place. His jaw drops, but not as much as his heart, “...unless we’re not dealing with just a hunter.”

“A supernatural hunter and a powerful, traitor witch.” Lia groans, carding a hand through her already messy strands. “And to think things couldn’t get any fucking worse.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Vampires. Park Jinyoung.

Those two things have been haunting the forefronts of your thoughts ever since you saw them scrawled so neatly across that yellowed page. You tried to search for more information, more elaboration, more anything, in Mayor Bhuwakul’s recounts, but that specific entry was the last, and the rest of the journal was as blank as a cloudless blue sky. Except you aren’t enthused by this particular emptiness, in fact… you’re completely fucking terrified.

It doesn’t make any sense. The diary was written almost two and a half centuries ago, so there is no possible way that Jinyoung, and his so called brother, can still be alive. But then again, it does make sense. If Jinyoung and Jaebeom are vampires—

What are you even saying!? It’s not possible!

You curse at the countless articles about the Twilight book series that come up in the search results, having dealt with this same issue since you took to the internet to find more research. There’s another thing—vampires are fictional, just like witches and werewolves and all those monsters that go bump in the night. All those creatures are just made up fairy tales to scare young children… but then why are you the one quivering in your boots?

“Mrs. (L/N)?” You nearly flinch at the sound of your name, frantically moving to close the cover of your laptop. Your tension immediately releases at the sight of one of your students standing over your desk with an expression of confusion, “Sorry if I interrupted—”

“No, no. It’s nothing important.” You quickly say before sending the boy a pointed look, “And what have we talked about? Mrs. (L/N) makes me feel way too old. Call me (Y/N), please Hyunjin.”

“Sorry, (Y/N). I keep forgetting.” Hyunjin smiles sheepishly.

You shake your head with a chuckle, “What can I do for you, kiddo?”

“I’m confused about this assignment Professor Park gave us yesterday.” You take the thick packet that Hyunjin offers, skimming through the many pages as he continues to explain, “I get that he wants us to analyze different elements of the excerpt, but I don’t get exactly how I’m supposed to do that…”

“How to analyze the story?��

“How I figure out the right stuff to analyze.”

“Well, the thing about literature is that there’s no such thing as the ‘right stuff’ to analyze.” You meet Hyunjin’s gaze again, tapping the tab of your pen against the front of his assignment with a shrug. “You could read a story and feel one thing, but then I could read the same story and feel something completely different, and the author who wrote the story in the first place could have created it with a different intent than what both you and I got.

“Think about it like… eating an apple.” You hold up the apple you brought for lunch, “You can just eat it how it is, or peel off the skin and just eat the flesh, or even cut it and up and put it into a pie. There’s no one right way to eat it—” Hyunjin intently watches as you place the fruit back on your desk. “—it’s the same concept in analyzing literature. As long as you find some sort of meaning beneath the words, you’ve done your job.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).” You return Hyunjin’s smile as you hand him back his assignment. He tucks the paper into his messenger bag before nodding at the stack of papers on the edge of your deck, “Prof has you over your head in grading again?...”

“If you think this is bad, you should have seen what I had over the weekend.”

“He takes advantage of you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You guys all take advantage of me, and I’m not even your real professor.”

“Somedays I wish you were. I learn more from talking with you in five minutes than listening to Park’s ninety-minute long lectures.”

“Hate to tell you, you and your little entourage would get away with a hell of a lot less if I were in charge.” Your eyes shift toward the students lingering around the classroom, most either socializing or packing up some last minute supplies. You recognize Hyunjin’s group of friends waiting near the entrance, acknowledging their excited waves when they catch your gaze.

Hyunjin chuckles, his own gaze drifting down to the notebook laid open across the surface of your desk. His confused expression returns as he skims through your hastily written notes before you have the time to grab them from view, “Are you doing research on… vampires?”

“I-It’s for a, uh, a special project I’m working on for the university… about the town.”

“Moon Dye Bay does technically have a history of the supernatural—especially witches.” Hyunjin explains, “You know, if you’re looking for something, or someone specific, I would check out the archives in the Town Hall. They probably have a whole bunch of ancient stuff down there.”

Hyunjin’s advice sparks a multitude of new ideas within your brain: The archives probably date back to the beginning years of the town, meaning there has to be some account of residency in 1770. If you can find Jinyoung’s, or Jaebeom’s name, you’ll be one step closer to ending this ignorance… or one step closer to finding out a truth that could change your life forever.

“I—” You nod your head, “I might. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t have passed this class last semester if it weren’t for you.”

A call of Hyunjin’s name snatches both the student’s and your attention. Hyunjin shouts a quick response back to his awaiting friends before offering you a sheepish smile, “I should get going before they come over here and drag me away, but thank you again, (Y/N).”

“Just make sure you get that assignment in on time, or it’s an automatic zero.”

Hyunjin throws both a radiant smile and a playful wink in your direction as he heads toward the exit, “See you next week, Ms. (L/N).”

“Call me that again and I’ll flunk your ass.” You shake your head and watch as Hyunjin, his friends and the remainder of the students filter out of the classroom, leaving you to your lonesome once again. With a heavy sigh, you bury your face in your palms, thumbing away the pain in your temples.

Even if you do manage to find answers, where are you supposed to go after the fact? If Jinyoung is a—is not human, then everything you’ve ever known and believed is just… gone. Turned into a dust like the ghost of a forest after a fire. If vampires are real, then what other monsters lurk in the shadows? What other monsters are here? In Moon Dye Bay?

...What kind of danger have you gotten yourself into?

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The taste of bourbon runs bitter along Jinyoung’s taste buds, only to travel smoothly down the length of his throat and settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. He lowers the crystal glass from his lips, licking away the remnants of alcohol that remain before gazing outside the large, rain-stained window. The silhouettes of foggy trees and foliage stare back, doing little to cure the racing of his thoughts.

A hunter and a witch working together to kill other witches… and to think that he had faced every type of enemy in the book.

Jinyoung has met thousands of witches over the years, some who were not too keen on working with others of their kind, but never one who actively goes around slaughtering other covens. It’s against the Balance of Nature for witches to murder witches. Then again, the practice of black magic is too… so why would a witch, who already has access to such power, strive to kill their own?... Less it be for more power. But even then, to steal another witch’s magic would require mass amounts of energy beyond energy.

And he’s only met one other witch who has been able to foster that much strength to do so.

Jinyoung releases a deep breath before taking another sip of his drink, welcoming the temporary calm it brings to his mind. He turns away from the window to head toward the desk in the corner of his bedroom while shrugging the suit jacket from his shoulders. After throwing the garment over the back of the chair and setting his cup down, Jinyoung unbuttons and rolls the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, providing some much needed cool relief to his bare skin. He presses his palms against the surface of the desk, leaning forward to stretch the tension from his arms.

He’s not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or the rain, but Jinyoung’s thoughts can’t help but shift to you for what seems like the millionth time in the past few days. Since your encounter a couple days prior, you always seem to make an appearance inside his head. It’s almost as if he can’t be rid of your face, your voice, your everything… not that he would ever want to. Especially since he made a pact to keep his distance—for your safety, and his sanity.

Jinyoung moves toward the bathroom while undoing his button up, ready to temporarily wash away the stress and concern of the crisis at hand, when his bedroom flies open with a loud crash. He barely has a second to process the entry before his body is shoved back against the wall, a pair of hands holding the collar of his now torn shirt and a pair of enraged eyes searing into his soul.

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “This was one of my favorite shirts, hyung.”

“You better have a good fucking excuse on why you’re hanging around with Tuan and his pathetic band of magicians?”

“Couldn’t you have asked without ruining my clothes?”

“Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung releases a sigh of exhaustion, quickly realizing that Jaebeom won’t unhand him without an answer.

“The coven is being targeted by a supernatural hunter and a witch. Their seer was killed last week.”

“So what? You suddenly care about a bunch of witches?”

“Mark and his coven are the reason we were allowed to remain in Moon Dye in the first place. If they die, do you really think the pack and the league will still let us stay?” Jinyoung shakes his head, carefully watching as Jaebeom paces toward the opposite end of his bedroom—his expression growing more and more infuriated. “Besides, I’m taking care of it.”

“You’re taking care of it? Really?” Jaebeom whirls around with a scoff, “Did it completely slip your mind that these are the same fuckers who tried to kill us to begin with? Tuan and his alpha wolf bitch?”

“I’m just ensuring our peaceful livelihood here, hyung.” Jinyoung stands his ground, calmly staring at his companion. “You may not care, and you may not like it, but frankly, I love this town, and I want to stay—it’s our home for goodness sake.”

“You’re playing with goddamn fire, Jinyoung. Do you really think they’ve let go of the fact that we killed—”

“For fucksake, Jaebeom!” Jaebeom’s expression falters at Jinyoung’s sudden outburst and lack of honorifics. The younger of the pair tugs at the roots of his scalp before heaving an audible sigh of exhaustion, “I’m too tired to fight with you. Please—just trust me when I say that I am taking care of it.”

Jaebeom shakes his head, “How many times have I told you not to fuck around with witch business? Do you remember what happened the last time you—?”

“I’m tired, hyung.” Jinyoung shrugs off Jaebeom’s starting-attempts-at-an-argument along with his torn shirt. He feels Jaebeom’s gaze following his near-to-bare form as he enters the bathroom, throwing one last comment over his shoulder, “And last I remember, you killed Jackson Wang. Not me.”

Jinyoung doesn’t spare another glance at Jaebeom’s expression and shuts the door, cursing the fact that he forgot to grab his bourbon.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” Jihyo carefully maneuvers her belongings onto one arm, utilizing the other to open the front door with some amount of struggle. “Sana’s boss is making her work overtime too, so I’ll just hang out here with Momo and Mina tonight.”

“Yeah, I got her text.” Carefully shutting the obstacle with her foot, Jihyo continues deeper into the apartment, pausing every now and then to stabilize the phone on her shoulder. She manages to make it into the kitchen without any accident, heaving the Chinese take-out up on the countertop with a relieved sigh. “I shouldn’t be long. I just have to take care of some last minute stuff for Park.”

“Just do what you need to do.” Jihyo quickly adds, “And please, for my sake, take a goddamn Uber home.”

Your chuckle carries over the line, “You got it, Mom.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). With my luck, you’ll land your ass in the hospital again.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Jihyo tosses her purse on a nearby table before running her fingers through her hair, offering a small smile to Momo who suddenly emerges from the living room. She nods, “See you in the morning then.”

“Yep. Night, babe.”

At your goodbye, Jihyo hangs up the call and deposits her phone beside her purse. She moves to unpack the bags as Momo approaches, throwing a sheepish grin toward the newcomer, “It looks like it’s just gonna be you, Mina and I tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Momo hums, her gaze remaining on Jihyo as she goes about grabbing plates and utensils from various cupboards. Jihyo can’t help but shudder from the intensity of her hawk-like stare, but chooses to stay silent while laying out the food. Even then, her skin still continues to crawl, especially when Momo begins to mumble to herself.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” Jihyo turns at a particular murmur, tilting her head at her blonde companion. To Jihyo’s surprise, Momo doesn’t answer, but steps closer, practically caging Jihyo in the tiny kitchenette. Jihyo finds herself anxious at the lack of space. “Wh-What are you—?”

“You can see the tattoo.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Cause I think you do.”

Jihyo shakes her head, “It was honestly just a mis-misunderstanding—”

“Look again.”

“I really—”

“Look. Again.”

The rational part of Jihyo’s brain yells at her to flee from the scene, disliking the borderline sinister expression graced along Momo’s features. However, her curiosity seizes the remainder of her self-control:

She lowers her gaze to Momo’s right arm, finding the same dark, supposedly imaginary ink patterned in various elements: Jagged tree branches, illegible symbols, and compass needles pointing in an unknown direction.

“What do you see?”

“I-I don’t know.” Jihyo presses herself as close to the edge of the counter as she can, faltering beneath Momo’s still approaching form. “I see a tattoo, but-but that’s not possible—”

“Wrong.” She gasps at Momo’s harsh grip on her arm, “You can see it… because you’re just like me.”

“What are you even talking about? Momo, this is—”

“It’s just like I said,” Jihyo’s mouth snaps open as her companion releases her hand to poke the back of her hand, causing the inked needle to spin right there across her skin. She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but somewhere deep inside her gut—Jihyo knows everything is real.

“You’re a hunter too.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

There was once a time Jaebeom remembers where him and Jinyoung used to be close—a time where they used to be true brothers. The kind that were there for each other. The kind that fought side by side no matter the enemies who awaited on the other side. The kind that didn’t keep secrets from one another. Jaebeom would never admit it aloud, but sometimes he finds himself missing those days—missing Jinyoung.

A part of him knows he’s the reason for the distance that has wedged between them, but even so, Jaebeom is too pig-headed to willingly accept all the blame, more so since Jinyoung has burned his own fair share of bridges in their various lifetimes together. Some far worse than what Jaebeom has thought of doing.

Jaebeom never truly intends to hurt Jinyoung. He just gets so angry, and when Jaebeom is angry… he becomes very, very hungry.

And you just happen to be right there, walking through the doors of the Town Hall and into the greedy shadows of the night. The moonlight bathes across your skin, practically illuminating your body for his benefit. Jaebeom knows he shouldn’t—knows that Jinyoung may hate him forever—but just as with everything else, Jaebeom chooses not to care.

You’re being careful, he quickly notices, between the hesitant steps you take and the careful eye you keep over your shoulder. The knowledge only strengthens Jaebeom’s bloodlust. He can’t help but imagine how your blood will taste… Will it be sweet like honey? Or savory like a freshly-grilled piece of meat? His mouth waters in anticipation as he slinks closer and closer toward you. Like a predator rounding in on his prey.

Thanks to his inhuman speed and strength, it only takes Jaebeom seconds to immobilize and press you against the nearest secluded wall where even the brightest rays of the moon can’t reach. The scream you attempt to release is muffled beneath his palm, while his other hand busies itself with revealing the delectable skin of your throat. Your scent hits him like a pile of bricks, and it’s unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He grows frenzied, almost deranged by the fragrance, desperately craving more and more.

He easily counters your thrashes and squirms against his hold, practically suffocating your figure with his own. Feeling the thread bearing his self-control slowly splintering, Jaebeom parts his lips, runs his tongue across the pointed tips of his fangs and prepares to guzzle the pain away, when your voice slips into his ears:

“Don’t do this, please…”

He makes the mistake of meeting your gaze. All at once, Jaebeom can sense the tidal waves of your fear, your passion, your will to live just in the glittering rings of your eyes. It leaves him breathless, no longer controlled by his need to feed, and instead, floating amongst his own disarrayed thoughts and pent-up emotions that he only experiences when he chooses to embrace his humanity.

“Jaebeom…”

You know his name—

Jaebeom realizes at once he can’t do this—he can’t hurt you. Not when you’re looking at him with those eyes and speaking to him with that voice. No matter how intoxicating your aroma. He won’t hurt you.

Jaebeom grabs your chin with near-to-trembling fingers and leans closer until the tip of his nose barely grazes along yours. In a hushed, yet stern tone, he murmurs, “You’re going to walk home and forget any of this ever happened. You never saw me… Understand?”

“I—” He watches your eyes widen, “I understand.”

Jaebeom doesn’t stay to check the result of his compulsion, quickly stepping away from your body and dashing far, far away from that alleyway. He doesn’t stop even when he’s thousands of miles away from Moon Dye Bay, trying to escape this spell you cast over his mind. But no matter how much distance he covers, Jaebeom can’t outrun the lingering ghost of your gaze…

Jaebeom can’t outrun how, in that brief moment, you made him feel so completely human.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I just don’t get how someone could do something like this.” Mark nods in agreement at Youngjae’s statement, watching his younger counterpart take a sip of his luke-warm coffee from his perch behind the lectern. “I mean, why take all these innocent lives—witches or not?”

“Some people are just… fucked up, I guess.”

“I don’t believe that.” Youngjae shakes his head, thumbing thoughtfully at the arm of his mug. “There has to be a reason, hyung. People aren’t just—born evil.”

Deep down, Mark knows Youngjae is right, but he can’t find it in himself to reply, silently continuing to flip through the old spellbook in his own grasp. This particular text has been in his family for generations upon generations. It was given to him by his mother soon after his magic began to flourish—the last gift he received before her death.

Due to the Tuan ancestral bloodline’s specialization in spellcasting, this book contains almost every spell known to witch-kind. He’s used its contents to defeat threats in various situations—this time should be no different. At least, he hopes so.

“If we have any chance at winning this fight, our best bet would be to take out the witch first.” Mark carries the large book toward the table where Youngjae is sat, setting the pages out for both of them to see. “I’m thinking we can halt their magic flow somehow, so there’s no way them or their partner can touch us—”

“So like a halting spell? Or a disruption spell?”

Mark shakes his head, “A simple halting spell won’t work. Not if they’re practicing black magic.”

“But what if we could pull enough power of our own?” Youngjae inquires, “I mean, with you, me, Lia, Jisung and Minho, shouldn’t that be enough to overpower their source?”

“Not necessarily.” Mark sighs, “Black magic is… complicated, but powerful. Depending on what or who exactly our witch is drawing from, we could be easily killed—especially if that is what they’re aiming for.”

“Right. Have you… heard from Minho? Since earlier?”

“No.”

Youngjae hums at Mark’s haughty answer, watching silently as the older continues to flip through the giant book. Upon reaching a certain page, Mark halts and angles his findings to better show the younger witch.

“We may be able to link their dark magic to something, like an object or even something alive. It wouldn’t necessarily block it, but if we channel it elsewhere, it could at least give us enough time to incapacitate them?”

“Will Jinyoung be able to take on both the hunter and the witch?”

“I don’t know.” Mark’s teeth sink into his bottom lips, his thoughts feverishly racing at Youngjae’s observation. An idea pops into his mind—one that replenishes a forgotten ache in his heart. Casting away the sinking feeling in his gut, Mark says, “The pack… might be able to.”

“Hyung…” Youngjae offers a sympathetic look that makes Mark’s gut lurch, “I don’t know if that’s a good id—”

Youngjae’s voice is cut off by the sudden slam of the mausoleum door, opening to reveal a dark silhouette emerging from the black of night. With Youngjae at his side, Mark immediately rises at the intrusion, preparing for a possible fight, but quickly relaxes when he realizes the identity of the abrupt visitor:

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here—?”

“Save it!” Mark almost reels back at the amount of pure venom laced in your tone, growing more and more confused at the blend of animosity, desperation and what seems to be betrayal, written across your face. “You better have a good fucking excuse for lying to me all these goddamn months, Tuan!”

“What are you talking about? (Y/N)—?”

“I’m talking about the fact that Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebeom are fucking vampires!” Mark’s blood runs cold at your response. At your next words, though he can’t see himself, Mark knows his face flushed as white as a ghost:

“And you—you’re a witch, Mark.”

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c-atm · 5 years ago

Text

Hometown and City

Hometown & City

"I should really get a car." HB muttered to herself as she jogged towards LHW R&D. A look of determination and concern as she did. Peridot text was usually long winded speeches of how great she was because of their current achievement in whatever project they were working on, but there were exceptions when Peridot words were straight to the point..or even cryptic. Usually, when something was about to go down. She looked down at her phone again, at Peri's text…

P-dottie: Something's coming through. Assault spheres on standy. Get here now.

There was definitely something going down tonight. Part of her thought she should call Lion back with the younger duo and she mentally kicked herself for it.

"Come on, Maheswaran. We don't even know if the thing is an enemy...Don't ruin their fun for a possibility"

Demon hunters or whatever they may be, they were still teens, her 'younger siblings' and they still deserve to have a time out to enjoy themselves.

"Still.. better safe than sorry."

She smirked as she turned the phone to her home screen. The background which was once a picture of Mister in costume during their empire excursion, her new save screen; were replaced by a picture of Witchy, Dapper, and Mister each snoring on her couch after a long winded night of gaming. She happened to walk in on them after returning from R&D and almost giggled at the sight.

Dapper and Mister slept in almost the exact same position ; head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, controllers on the table.

The difference?

Mister hands being in the playing position while Dappers right hand rested on the waist of Witchy intertwined with her own hand. Witchy was curled up, using Dapper thigh as a head pillow. Her feet were lightly pressed against Mister's leg.

She remembered she changed into her houseware before snuggling next to Mister, only for him to wake up and sit her on his lap, holding her around her midsection, before welcoming her home, leaning her head on the crook of his neck and falling back to sleep after kissing her temple. Such a homey feeling it was.

She shook her head to focus on the task at hand, pressing the diamond Icon bring up the insignia the diamonds, she pressed on the pink diamond at the top of the screen. The diamond communicator app, only available to phones jailbroken or made by Little Homeworld R&D or Homeworld R&D.

She waited for his phone to ring as she continued her way about to turn on to the street LHWR&D stayed, when she saw Garnet and Pearl chasing someone little gem in a cloak out of the building, weapons drawn.

"Come back here!" Pearl ordered to no avail.

"No, I didn't do anything!"

The lilith gem, in annoyance, readied her spear before launching a concentrated blast of energy, with all intentions of poofing the gem.

The gem looked as the blast got closer before her reflexes kicked in, leaping out of the way in the last moment. Grimacing as the blast licked her arm, a glancing blow. She growled but turned to run only to feel her legs slipped from under her and land on her back. She didn't even get to grimace when she felt a weight on her chest. Opening her eyes to see Connie and the gems glaring down at her, the human straddling her stomach and her blade in her face. A steady cold eyes meeting her own.

"That's enough, stand dow-"

"Bi..Big sis."

Connie stopped when she heard whimpering from the gem. Removing the hood of her cloak, the three crystal gems gasp at the oh-so familiar purple face staring back at them.

"Amethyst?" Connie glanced at the purple on black eyes, the purple circular marking on her cheeks and the horns on her head...Things that place Dapper in her head. "You're a demon… You're Dapper's and Witchy's Amethyst."

Connie climbed to her feet almost instantly sheathing her blade. She held out a hand to the demoness and an apologetic and shameful smile on her face. " We have some things to discuss."

"Like, why'd you're so much taller, scarier and filled out?" The demoness looked up at her as she took her hand.

"Among other things.." Connie joked as she helped Amethyst up, just as she was about to introduce herself two things happened. Steven returned her call finally, and….

"Well, little witch. Sorry, I guess you aren't so little now huh?.. How long have you been here?" The four turned to a figure on the roof of the R&D building perring down.

He was a fine dressed gentleman, admittedly. Nice white and red checkered collar shirt, white jeans, black heeled pointed toe flats. He also had reptilian green teeth, yellow beady eyes, tan skin and was boney; near skeletal. The way he looked at Connie put her on edge.

He spoke in a slick and almost adoringly voice. "You look like you aged a bit, but for me..not even a half-hour passed since we met…" Anger slipped in his voice as he grabbed his collar revealing his third degree burnt collarbone, and slashed throat. " Lucky me, that spell casted us away before you finished the job.."

'Good going you two.' Connie thought in pride as she arched an eyebrow at the supposed demon. "Maybe you should have stayed in your hole then."

"So spunky even now, even without your partner. Where is your little demon? Did he get lost in the streams of time? Maybe crying over your grave in the future as we speak."

Connie did not like this person at all. His conceit reminded her too much of Kevin of the past. Before she could say anything, Garnet interjected, taking a step forward, her fist tight.

"Who are you? What's your business here?!"

"You golems are so aggressive.." He shrugged playfully " You know when I finally to this.." He paused to take a deep almost euphoric breath of air. "Realm...The other golems asked me the same thing with weapons towards me. All I said was the truth, I was here to kill a half-demon and his witch harlot..and they attacked."

He smirked as he took a pouch from his pocket opening it upside down as the uncracked but dimmed gems of Peridot, Bismuth, Amethyst and Lapis, fell towards the street. Garnet caught them giving the two a reassuring smile, before turning to the demon with rage.

"Though they were so grateful to help me recover a bit.. Draining their essence in all, though inorganic energy are never as good as demon or human magical energies. It always leaves me empty...Help me out huh?"

The demoness Amethyst kept her eyes on the demon growling standing behind Connie's leg, only to be surprised by the human's palm on her head comforting her as she kept her eyes on the opponent in front of her, sword in hand.

"Don't worry." Connie looked back at the knee high demoness. " We got this."

"Confident aren't we.. That's fine." The demon crouched low growling as he did. Black wisps of magic seeped off his body and surrounded Crystal Gems. "I'll just break your confidence with your body."

While HB was fighting within her hometown, A pink portal was opening up on top of an Empire city roof and through it came the laughter of two teens, who slid out of and almost off it, on a pink lion; Dapper and Witchy. In Witchy's hand was a giant strawberry and on Dapper's back was a couple of Homeworld style sais.

Woah Boy!" Dapper exclaimed as He wrapped his hands around his lady's waist keeping her close, as they nearly tipped over. "I'm starting to think Bro was right and you do need parking practice."

Lion responded with an annoyed stare. only for it to turn to a pleased mewling as Witch scratched his head.

"Lion's perfect as he is. Don't listen to those jealous Steven's" She praised as she kissed the jungle cat head.

Dapper just shook his head with a smirk as he climbed down. He walked to the edge of the roof and sat down taking a look at the city below. A bit of a serene look on his face. Wordlessly, he held his hand towards his lady, asking for her company.

"Sheesh." Witchy gave her partner a gentle smile as she joined him, strawberry in her left hand. "You're so starved for my attention, Steven." Witchy teased as she took a bite of the strawberry, humming in sweet surprise as the juice shot down her throat. She blushed as she heard him chuckle giving him a small glare.

"What?"

Dapper shook his head before wiping her strawberry covered lips with his thumb. "You're a mess, my lady." He slurped up the residue from his thumb with a smirk. "Almost as sweet as you."

Face a beautiful maroon half pout, Witchy wrapped her right arm around Dapper and leaned her head on his shoulders. "I swear. Is every Steven a flirt, tasked with making every Connie a flustered mess."

"I'm sure it's the reverse a good amount of the time as well... if bro and sis is an example of the norm." Dapper chuckled. "Maybe it's an undeniable truth of existence."

Witchy looked up, intrigued but also smugly."What, that you were put on earth to raise my blood pressure?"

"I was put on earth to make your heart race, my lady." Dapper joked flirtatiously, getting a half hearted groan from Witchy. "Jokes aside..I'm starting to think for every 'Steven', there's a 'Connie'."

"Really now?" A relaxed smile graced her face. "It's almost like you're saying our lives are intertwined.. Like we're fated to be with each other or something like soulmates?"

"You jest but there's an older version of us who's the embodiment of 'honeymoon' phase."

"Despite not being 'together'."Witchy added with a knowing smirk.

Dapper nodded in agreement a chuckle of his own before settling to a smile. " Then there's us…"

"Please don't say we're soulmates." Witchy bemoaned.

"But we are!" Dapper announced as he took a bite of the strawberry. "Mmm! That's dang good"

"Hey, get your own, greedy demon." Witchy ordered as she pulled the berry away.

"You're so mean, my lady. Just one more bite." Dapper reached towards the fruit.

Witchy leaned back trying to keep the fruit away. "Oh, yeah right! I know what a bite from you is like."

"You do, don't you."Dapper stated as he leaned closer to her, his smile falling to a sly grin and his attention on her alone.

Blushing as she was, she didn't back down, deciding to take a page from HB's book. She cupped his chin and gave him a small coaxing smile. "Of course, I do. I have your mark to prove it, 'soulmate'. "

She chuckled when she saw Dapper, blushed and turned away. "That was smooth, my lady." He looked back at her teasing grin.

"You're adorable when you're flustered. It actually feels good to be on the other side." Witchy impishly poked the demon nose as she giggled.

"Oh role reversal is it?" Dapper gave his lady a dangerous smile as his fingers went to her sides. "then I guess I get to punish you as you would do me."

"Steven, don't you daaaaAhahahaha."

Witchy squirmed and laughed as she succumbed to his tickling. She kicked and tried to block his careful claws, but it was to no avail.

"Such a beautiful laugh, my lady. Maybe it's a traif of being a Connie. " Dapper half-joked, he really did love his lady's laugh and preferred it over HB's

"Ahhhhaha,,Like schmaltzy...haha! flirting..Is a Steven trait." Witchy said between laughing and catching her breath.

"You like it!" Dapper stated as he tickled more vigorously getting more laughter from the Witchy.. "Give..Give...Give."

"Nooohahaha! We...Connie's...dohahahaha...don't falter!"

"Neither do us Steven's! I guess we're at an impasse, then."

"Wait..I'll give you the..Hahaha..Behahah. The berry!"

Dapper paused for a moment."Tempting…"

Witchy used this moment to catch her breath and try to slip from under him when he stroked her sides with his claws.

"But I rather, your laughter."

"Nohahaha! Wait Lion help!"

Lion looked at the two antic before walking over and nuzzling Witchy neck as if he was trying to tickle her as well making her laugh even more.

"Nohoho! I've been forsaken, betrayed, and cheated!" Witchy yelled through their affectionate assault. "Ok ok! ..I can't breath...You got it!"

"What was that?"

"You win!"

Dapper looked at Lion for a moment before grinning at the beast and pressing his skull to him. He rolled over laying next to the tired and still giggling Witchy.

"Connie's never falter huh?"

"You had help." She laughed again, getting a lick from Lion. She turned to the pink cat with a side smirk. "How are you going to betray your aunt?"

Lion yawned before going to the center of the roof to give them privacy.

The two layed there looking up, hands instinctively interlocked.

"I'm going to miss this world. It's so fun and peaceful. It's relaxing."

Dapper looked over at his lady, her face was reflective as she stared up at the night sky, stars in her black eyes..

"I mean..it's been awhile since we felt like...Teens..No hunts or anything..It's nice."

"But…"

"I'm ready. I want to go back." Witchy said with conviction. "I miss our world. Miss studying with our Pearl and Garnet, walking around our city with AAmethyst. Miss our garden, our living room, our kitchen. My bedroom..I miss our home."

Dapper watched as his lady wiped her eyes to keep from crying.

She gave a strained chuckled before continuing "Strange, I miss our adventurous and comparatively dangerous lives?"

Dapper shook his head. "No I feel the same."

If you asked Dapper about his opinion on the matter of worlds, he'd tell you he'd rather be wherever his lady was..Truthly he could see them settling and getting caught in the go with the flow aura of Beach City and Little Homeworld...But it wasn't their world to enjoy.

They didn't put in the work or battle the enemies their older counterparts did and still are if what Mister and HB stated about the peace being 'relative'. They themselves didn't see the relative part of the peace, but there's a reason for LHWR&D and for Mister to still engage in ambassador duties

Still his main concern was staring at him looking for him to continue. He gave his lady hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm in the same mind as you...but I think part of me wishes you wanted to stay here. Would be easier to keep you safe here."

"So you want to slack on your responsibilities?" She teased the demon turning to him.

"Perish the thought, my lady." Dapper retorted with. grin before facing her. Stroking her chin with the back of his hand. "Just mean I could focus more on making you happy than keeping you safe."

Witchy blushed bright as she looked down " You do both, Steven. No matter what world we're in. I only feel this safe and happy knowing you're with me." She looked up into his demon eyes and only felt affection from and for them.

"I'm grateful for it. For entering a contract..for being best friends..for having such a loving and loveable dapper demon as a 'soulmate'."

"Only for you, my lady."

It was inevitable. The pull of affection, the city light below them and the natural ones above. The serene silence and their shy and excited smile. They instinctively moved closer. their breath brushing against each other.

"My lady?"

"Please."

He nodded feeling nervous as he moved in eyes closed lips a thread apart from his lady's…

"Guys!"

The two broke apart as if they were burned and looked toward Mister..Who was half way out of Lion's mane.. Before either could say anything Mister interrupted..

"Connie's fighting a demon."

That's all they needed to hear.

#jambudweek2 #Connverse crossover #Steven universe #Connie Maheswaran #Connverse #Comedic #witchdemonAU #fighting flirty #Lion #Mister #Heartberry #Witchconnie #Demonsteven #Homtown #City

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beckzorz · 5 years ago

Text

caduto dalle nuvole (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 5012 Summary: A detour on a mission leads to destruction, and a discovery. Warnings: Canon-typical violence and gore. A/N: Happy Secret Seba, Paige @sebastiansloserclub!!!! It was a pleasure to write for you! Thank you to @jobean12-blog for beta reading <3 The title, “caduto dalle nuvole,” is an Italian idiom that means literally “fallen from the clouds” and figuratively “taken aback.” Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy xoxo

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

You close the mission briefing and tuck the file under your arm as you stand, just barely controlling the tic in your jaw. “None, Captain.”

“Good.” His relief is palpable. “The jet leaves in ninety minutes. Good luck, agent.”

—

“I’ll be back,” Antonio says, and then he slams the barn door shut.

You gape. A key scrapes against a lock. Your heart stops for a horrible moment, and then you bolt forward.

“Hey!”

You slam into the door, body and door shaking from the impact. A chain rattles on the other side, and a car engine starts to purr.

“Hey!” you scream.

The car drives off, grinding against the gravel drive. You bang your fists against the door, rage clouding your vision, filling your veins.

Behind you, your partner lets out a breath and a thump. You turn, blinking away the red in your vision, and stare.

Bucky Barnes is sitting on a pile of hay, hands clasped between his spread thighs and his expression sardonic.

“Well,” he says. “That went well.”

You whirl back to the door, teeth clenched. You can’t manage a reply, not when it was his idea to hitchhike instead of taking the bus. Your own mother had hitchhiked across Europe in the seventies, but it’s not the seventies anymore. It’s decades later, and now… now you’ve been kidnapped. Kidnapped!

“We’re literally locked in a barn,” you snap. “And you just want to sit there?!”

Bucky sighs. “Look, this guy clearly has something up his sleeve. I did some research in the back seat while you were being sociable. SHIELD’s made a note of this guy before. Our mission isn’t so urgent that we can’t delay a day to figure out what his deal is.”

You lean your shoulder against the door and gape at him. “What, you think Steve will just say, ‘Sure, Buck, that’s totally fine! It’s not like I specifically tasked you to find these dangerous terrorists or anything?’”

“Uh, that’s what he said, yeah.” Bucky shifts on the haypile and holds up his phone. “I texted him to check.”

“Typical,” you mutter. You turn back to the door, the start of a headache pricking at your temples. You crouch down and peer through the crack of the barn door, looking for the chain.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks. His voice seems small in the open barn.

You don’t answer. What’s the point? Surely it’s obvious. Why else would you be studying the way out except to break out? To enjoy the view?

Besides, it’s not like he ever tells you anything. If you hadn’t asked, would he have even mentioned he’d spoken with Steve?

He’s never told you anything he hasn’t needed to.

You stare at the chain through the gap in the door. It’s afternoon outside—if you rattle the door, you can see the sun glinting off the shifting links. Something to look at while you consider why your frustration is tinged with dejection.

When you’d first joined—when you were recruited, you’d had so much hope in Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier, stolen and used and come back to himself? It was your own story, if decades out of sync. Sam Wilson, bless him, even encouraged you to strike up a friendship with him. Sam, the only one who knew your whole story. Steve probably does by now too, but still. Sam was the first to know. He was the one who got out you. Got you free.

Of course, all the attempts you made to befriend Bucky fell flat. He was—and still is—polite, but unfathomably distant. Anyway, why would he bother opening up to you? He has Sam, Steve… Even Natasha, the only other person you might have felt comfortable talking to. He doesn’t like talking about his past, Steve once said. Try Natasha. But if you talked to her, she’d tell him everything.

And you don’t want to be talked about.

Not like that. Not by them.

You force yourself to your feet and step back. The hinges on the door are bolted in place—no easy removal there. Maybe a tool kit…?

The barn is dim, hazy. The sunlight streaming in from the small windows slants down in clouded beams, turning the hay-littered dirt floor into a mosaic of light and dark. And Bucky is all in shadow on his yellow throne. He’s barely moved since you last looked his way. Just sitting, and watching you.

“Did you see a toolbox anywhere?” you ask.

Bucky turns his head left, then right. “Nope.” He props his elbow on his knee and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. “Whatcha thinking?”

You prowl the perimeter, looking in every built-in shelf and drawer. “Unbolt the door hinges. Neither of us’d fit through the windows, and—wait a second.” You whirl to face him, quivering with relief. “Forget that. You can just force the door open!”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky asks. He holds up his left hand—it looks like a regular hand for the mission, but under the smokescreen is that same vibranium, that same strength. “Do you really wanna advertise that the Winter Soldier is in Italy? Right now? While we’re on an undercover mission?”

“Um, regular people break through doors all the time, Barnes.” You dash over and try to pull him to his feet.

He doesn’t budge.

“Seriously?!” You drop his heavy arm, muscles tight and hands quivering. “Are you just going to sit there? And do nothing?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I am. And as mission lead, that’s the call I’ve made. So sit down and chill, firecracker.”

Your fists curl into balls and you stalk away.

Firecracker.

A nickname, one you’ve despised since the first time Natasha sang it out over the comms on a mission last month. Firecracker, of all things! Like you’re no more than a party trick. An object. Not even an animal. Not even something powerful. Firecrackers are all about a lot of noise, not power. And you…

You slow as you reach the door. The wood is rough as you slide your palms across it and press your forehead across the gap. Outside, it’s still bright. Still afternoon. Inside, it feels like a nightmare.

You haven’t been locked in anywhere on a mission since… since…

For a long time.

You don’t like it. You close your eyes, breathe in—the air in the barn is stale, but if you squish your nose enough, you can get a hint of freshness from outside. The door scrapes your cheeks as you settle yourself.

It’s okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be—

A hand on your shoulder: you spin, catch their wrist, and stop short when you realize it’s only Bucky.

“You okay?” he asks. Is that pity in his voice?

“Of course I’m fine!”

His skin is hot to the touch; he and Steve have always run warm, but it’s a strange feeling to be touching him like this. It’s not part of training, not part of a fight…

You drop his hand and sidle out from between him and the door. Your hands are still trembling. You straighten them out until your bones ache, fingers flexed and muscles straining. Even your jaw is trembling.

“You’re not,” Bucky says flatly. “What do you need?”

A hollow laugh escapes you. You lean against a pillow and slide down until you’re sitting on the floor. “To not be in here! What the hell do you think? That I’m thrilled to be locked in somewhere I’m more liable to disintegrate than not?”

“What do you…”

Bucky trails off. You don’t bother looking up at him. God knows what he thinks of you.

But it’s one thing to be in hiding. It’s another thing to be locked up. God, how can he bear it? After everything, how can he—how can you—how could you ever—

“Hey.”

Your head jerks up, your eyes wide. Bucky is kneeling a few feet away, his hands clasped between his knees. They both look like human hands; a smokescreen disguises his left. It’s a good disguise, but it looks wrong on him all the same. He—it’s not him, it’s not…

“Look at me, firecracker,” Bucky murmurs. Your eyes snap to his; your eyebrows draw low.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss. “I’m not some toy.”

He blinks. “It’s a nickname. A term of endearment, not ridicule. Hell, Sam calls me Tin Man. Does that make me brainless?”

“Sam’s your friend!”

Bucky’s mouth drops open and his blue eyes round as saucers. “Wha—”

He stops mid-word. He cocks his head to the side. You open your mouth, but he holds up a hand, silencing whatever you’d been about to say.

His sudden silence, the way he’s listening—is someone coming?

You give Bucky a look, and he nods. You both let out a breath and stand silently. Whatever you’d been talking about, it has to wait. Right now, you’re done arguing.

Right now, you’re a team.

Tires screech outside; you look to Bucky for confirmation. He holds up three fingers.

Three vehicles.

How many people in them?

And why, why are they here? Did they recognize Bucky? He’s not immediately recognizable out of uniform, at least to the untrained eye—but are these trained eyes? Was Bucky’s face the only reason you got picked up on the side of the road? This kind of mishap has happened before…

Car doors open, footsteps crunch in gravel, and you flex your fingers and reach for that spot of warmth hidden in your chest. It reaches out, settles around your bones, through your veins until your fingernails glow. Bucky glances down, his lips quirk up, and then his eyes settle on yours. His pupils are wide with adrenaline, and he’s looking at you so intently your breath catches in your throat. Your fingertips are white-hot now, casting an eerie light from below.

He looks all the more terrible and wonderful for it.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

Your focus rams back into place. It’s just your mission lead, just Bucky. And there’s bigger fish to fry right now than the dark sky in his eyes.

“Ready.”

Bucky tilts his head towards the fused hinges on one side of the door. You press your hands against the top one, and the rusty metal begins to glow. Red drops of molten iron slide down catch on the wood, which begins to smoke. Licks of fire sprout from the jamb, and you hop back, shaking out the sparks from your fingertips.

Bucky maneuvers ahead of you and kicks the door open, wood splintering at the bottom, his left arm up. Twin shouts of surprise, two quick gunshots, and the door shudders from the impact.

“Get the other one!” Bucky snaps, pulling the bust-open door back into place as shouting begins in earnest.

You dash to the other door. Bullets pepper the door, but the wood is thick enough to contain them—for now. Something niggles at the back of your mind, but you push it away. Of course something’s wrong. But now’s the time to act, not think.

The second hinge disintegrates faster; the longer you go, the hotter you get. This is the longest you’ve ever lasted like this on a mission—usually you have guns, tools, equipment… Today you have only yourself.

Sparks fly, settling on your pants, little spots starting to burn away. The glow in your fingertips spreads down to your second knuckle, third knuckle…

Bucky pushes the two doors forward together, driving them forward like a shield wall against the god-knows-how-many people approaching. You stick close, scooping up a handful of gravel and shaping it in your palms. Gunshots ring out, striking the padlocked chain, the doors, the dirt at your feet.

“Get that damn thing on!” someone shouts.

A colossal hum groans into life, flooding your ears as you lose all sense of feeling. Bucky cries out, digs in his heels as he left arm shoots forward, but you’re a million miles away as the doors fall away from you and clatter to the ground. Dust clouds in the air as you realize that the molten rocks in your hands have dripped through your fingers, burning your shoes away. You step back, hands shaking, suddenly cold as the warmth in your chest fizzles out.

Then you run.

Gravel bites into your bare feet and makes way for tough grass. But there’s rocks here too, hidden ones, and within seconds you stumble, a sharp rock tearing a gash in the pad of your foot. Still you run, eyes burning more than your hands had been, ice settling fresh in your veins as footsteps pound behind you, harsh breathing that isn’t yours whistling in your ears.

A grunt, and someone’s hand brushes your arm. You gasp, air slicing against your screaming lungs, and pump your legs harder, harder—

“Augh!”

A hand catches your elbow, yanking your shoulder, yanking your whole body to the side as you keep going, heartbeat frantic, brain screaming, eyes barely seeing except to realize that this is the first you’ve seen again, and it’s just like you remembered, oh god, oh god; you pull your arm against the tight grip, but there’s no breaking free, the grip is too strong. You manage to get a few steps farther, dragging your assailant with you, but he digs in his heels.

Like Bucky dug in his heels.

Your eyes swivel in your head back to the barn, back to where Bucky is still fighting against some machine aimed at him, making waves in the air as it pulls at his left arm. Even from a distance, you can see he’s confused despite his bared teeth and furor. He glances your way, and the fresh strangeness in his expression takes you off-guard.

The other one who’d been chasing you grabs you, catching your other hand.

“Gotcha,” he grunts, breathless and gleeful.

You can’t take your eyes from Bucky. He’s looking at you more now. The tears pricking at your eyes make it impossible to read what he’s thinking, but you know.

The first one knees you in the gut; you fall to your knees, eyes watering afresh and nausea tickling the back of your mouth.

You know what Bucky is thinking. You’re just a firecracker. You’re useless. You’re a party trick—

You surge back to your feet, hand curling into a fist as you drive your knuckles into the first one’s neck. They choke, eyes blown wide and hand instinctively dropping from your elbow to clutch their throat. You swing your other arm, ready to drive it into their gut, but the second one catches your wrist, twisting your arm up behind you. You scream in pain—your pulled shoulder is useless now—and make to get out of their hold, but you’re caught, and someone else has come along now, and they kick you facedown into the grass. Still you persist, wriggling and kicking and trying to force yourself to your feet, to your knees, onto your back—to anything other than in the grass, blades prickling against your cheeks and mouth and nose.

God knows how, but you manage to twist over and drive your foot into someone’s crotch. They squeal and hobble back, and you grit your teeth through the pain and push yourself up before someone drives a foot into your stomach again, slamming you back onto the ground.

“Stay down!”

It’s the second man, the one who’d pulled your shoulder. He steps heavy on your chest until your bones creak, and you scream from the pressure, the pain.

“Stop, you idiot!”

You freeze. Your scream dies in your throat. The man lifts his foot away, and even through your tears you can see his scowl.

That voice—

No. No.

No.

You curl your fingers into the grass. It’s alive in your hands. Something alive, that thinks no ill of you, that wants nothing from you, something green and alive and you are not going to let them take you again.

With a cry, you push yourself up and launch yourself at the man who’d held you down. Your punch to his jaw sends him reeling. There’s nothing left of the warmth from in the barn in your chest, but you reach for it anyway, desperate, as you dash towards the man whose voice you never want to hear again.

He’s holding a gun, pointed loosely at you, his suit clean as ever and his hair as short. His eyebrows are raised, as if he’s surprised, but you don’t care, you don’t care, all you want is to break is neck and never let him speak another word as long as he—

Crack.

White-hot pain lances through your hip as he shoots, but you keep going until you’re on top of him and he’s in the dirt and your hands are around his neck and you’re squeezing and then your hands are on empty air as that idiot pulls you off.

You stumble a few feet away. There’s no warmth for you to pull at, but sparks shoot intermittently from your fingers as you snarl, blood pulsing at your hip. The idiot has a cattle prod in his hands, and he’s thrusting it at you, the buzz sending shocks through you long before it touches you.

The boss, on his knees, lurches forward towards the two of you, his eyes comically wide.

“Don’t—”

The cattle prod hits you.

White.

All you can see is white.

White fire burns in your veins, under your skin, burning searing screaming—

—

White fire flares out from where you’re caught between a bunch of the goons. Something explodes. For a moment, the whole area is flooded with white, turning the world into static. Bucky’s heart stutters—he can’t see you, where are you, what have they done to you?

A wave of heat hits him with such intensity that he shouts, his arms automatically flinging up as protection. The world goes white; something clatters nearby.

Arms? Arms?

Yes, both arms. What happened to the electromagnet? Was it the heat?

Whatever it was, he’s free. He lurches towards where the electromagnet had been, teeth gritted against the pain of the heat in the air. He can hear frightened breathing, swearing—fuck fuck fuck fuck fu—and he pounces, landing awkwardly on someone’s shoulder, but not so awkwardly that he doesn’t knock them unconscious before they can land a single blow. He stumbles off of them, ears cocked for any other noises, any other sounds, but all he hears are footsteps running haphazardly away.

They’ll get found, eventually. Right now, he can’t leave. Not without knowing what’s happened to you.

Bucky’s vision clears slowly. It’s still uncomfortably hot—sweat beads on his forehead, on his neck—but there’s a slow breeze. There’s a column of smoke to his right, where you’d run off to, and he slowly moves in that direction as he blinks away the whiteness from his eyes.

Every step forward, the heat intensifies. There’s no more grass, just dirt, with black smoke spiraling up from the bare ground. Sweat drips down the hollow of his back, catches in his eyebrows—he shakes his head, teeth bared, and forces himself forward.

What the hell happened?

Had they come for him, or you? Why would they have come for you? Whatever he thinks of you personally, your powers have never seemed that extraordinary to him. Your work at the barn, turning wrought-iron hinges into molten metal in seconds—that’s the most impressive thing he’s seen out of you to date.

Whatever had happened, the white fire and the horrible heat and the whole world gone white—that can’t have been you. But you can’t be burned, can you? Whatever it was, it can’t have hurt you.

Could it have?

He breaks into a run, squinting. A shadow on the ground catches his eye.

Bucky freezes in his tracks.

A corpse, burnt nearly to the bone. Red-hot metal pools under its pelvis—a belt buckle? A gun? No, that’s the gun there, with the extra charring on the ground. Is that what had exploded earlier? Must be.

Bucky’s mind fast-tracks past the corpse. If this is what had happened to someone else…

He steps over a charred, skeletal foot, his heart in his throat as he squints against the hot smoky air.

If that’s what happened to someone else, how could you have survived?

Bucky’s eyes water more than ever as he walks faster. “No no no,” he mutters. “That’s not…”

Another charred corpse, this one truly burnt to the bone, tendons just barely holding it together. Tears track down Bucky’s cheeks as his eyes run from the long foot up the leg, over the hipbones—

A bare foot is caught in the ribcage. A skull cradled against a bare hip, scraps of charring fabric caught in the sockets. One hand, full and alive and covered in soot, flung across your belly.

Bucky falls to his knees and crawls forward until a tear falls onto your sooty skin. Your face is turned away from him. His hands quiver as he reaches for you—for the first time, he realizes the smokescreen has died—and touches your shoulder, the back of your hand. You’re still, too still, and your skin is cold to the touch. He can hear your heartbeat, but it’s faint as a whisper and slower than molasses. There’s no sound of breathing.

“Breathe, dammit,” he mouths.

He nudges you, presses down on the hand over your belly, trying to force some movement in your lungs.

Nothing.

He takes your face in his hands; they’re shaking more than ever. He turns your head towards him, crying outright now.

“Please,” he breathes. He shifts his knees until he can bend his face inches from yours. If he has to get you to breathe by giving you breath himself, by god he’ll do it, he’ll do it a hundred times, a million, because you can’t be dead here on the ground, you can’t be, he won’t let you.

Bucky sucks in a breath, the smoky air stinging his lungs, but before he can pinch your nose shut, you shift, groan, and turn your head just enough so he can see your lips parting and a tear tracking down your cheek.

Relief washes over him like a tidal wave. For a moment, all he can do is close his eyes and press his forehead to yours. Your skin is still cold, but you’re not dead. You’re not dead. You’re alive. You’re alive, and you’re going to be okay. He’ll make damn sure of it.

One last shaky breath, and Bucky sits up on his heels. He shucks off his coat, tucks it around you, and hoists you into his arms. The skull rolls to the ground. He has to work the ribcage away from your foot with his own hand, but then he’s taking you away, back to the burning barn, away from… He glances back. It looks like a bomb has gone off. It looks…

It looks…

It looks like something he’s seen before.

Bucky’s steps slow as he stares down at the top of your head.

He’s seen this before.

The white blast. The scorched earth. The charred corpses.

He’s seen it in South Africa, in China, in Ukraine, in Venezuela. Terrorism attacks, with tenuous links aside from the identical carnage.

Monthly attacks that ended… the same month you joined the team.

It’s only habit that keeps him walking now. Force of habit, and how cold your skin is, and something past thought that has his throat clogged with horror. But he can’t drop you, no matter what conclusions his brain is coming to now.

The air is clearer here. The barn is on fire now, whether from your handiwork earlier or… or just now, he couldn’t say. But the breeze is blowing the smoke away. One of the three cars is missing—some of them must have fled, but someone will find them. Someone.

There’s an SUV with open doors. Bucky settles you in the passenger seat, careful to tuck his jacket around you properly as your head lolls. When you come to, there will be enough to explain.

There has to be an explanation.

There has to be.

Bucky pulls out his phone. Sam’s on speed-dial.

Sam’s voice, when he answers, is answer enough.

—

It’s cold.

The air is warm, but you’re cold, so cold. Like your heart is ice. You squeeze your closed eyes shut further and reach for that spot of warmth in your chest.

It’s not there.

You whimper, try again.

Nothing.

You’ve wrung yourself dry.

How—

Your faces twitches as you try to remember. All you remember is white, the static of whiteness.

Whiteness…

Your eyes pop open as you suck in a harsh, smoky breath, every muscle taut and shaking as you stare at the burning barn through—through a windshield? You’re in a car? Your heart pounds out of your chest. Did they put you in a car to take you away?

The door to your right is open; you lurch out of your seat and land on your bare knees in the gravel, one hand clutching the open door for support. You stagger to your feet. There’s no warmth in your chest and no strength in your bones, but you force yourself away, away, away—

A hand touches you, and you scream, flailing blindly until your wrist is caught.

“Hey hey hey, careful,” a soft voice says. Another hand settles on your waist, the hand on your wrist shifts until it’s holding yours, and it’s then that your eyes refocus on—

Bucky.

His eyes are wide, fixed on your face. You blink. His face is sooty, but there are clear tracks running down his cheeks. Was he—was he crying?

“You okay?” he asks.

His voice is still soft, still gentle. His eyes are still fixed on your face.

Whiteness…

“I—I don’t know,” you stammer. You put your free hand on Bucky’s arm, head swimming. The gravel bites into your feet, and you wince.

Your shoes must have burned away. Your shoes, and—

A strangled breath escapes your throat as you realize. Your shoes burned away, your shoes and your clothes. You’re wearing Bucky’s jacket, but it falls only just past your hips.

God, what did he see? You stare at him again, only more confused than before. What happened?

Whiteness.

You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide.

You remember it all now, as starkly as if it was happening all over again. The run, the struggle, the gunshot, the cattle prod.

The whiteness.

“Did I—did—what—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers. He gently wraps an arm around you and tucks you against his chest. “You’re okay. Sam is coming.”

Your hands wind into Bucky’s shirt, tugging it tight. You stare down at your bare feet as tears roll down your cheeks. Your left foot stings; are you bleeding? You shift your foot; yes, there’s blood on the gravel where you’d been standing. Your hip is less painful than you’d’ve expected, and you flex a muscle there experimentally. Something pulls at your skin—had Bucky patched you up? He must have.

Bucky.

What does he know?

“What…” You swallow. “What happened?”

“They set you off,” Bucky says.

You let out a slow breath. So he knows. You disentangle yourself from his hold and limp to the car; Bucky helps you along, and back up into the passenger seat. “Oh.” You turn away and look at the bottom of your foot, wincing. Yes, still bleeding.

“‘Oh?’” Bucky repeats incredulously.

You turn back to him, eyebrows raised. Bucky’s hands are wide open at his sides, as though he’s struggling to keep them from curling into fists.

“Why did no one tell me about this?” His voice is low, tinged with frustration. “Why didn’t I know?”

“Only Sam knows. Knew,” you correct. “He’s the one—”

“Who got you out,” Bucky finishes. He leans against the car, boxing you in. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I have told you?” you ask, voice flat.

Bucky stares, mouth open, argument flashing in his eyes. You lean your head back and close your eyes. You’re still groggy and cold and tired, and there’s no way out with Bucky standing so close. All you can do is answer him.

“Forget why, when?” you continue weakly. “We’ve never been particularly friendly.”

“I can’t help being shy, can I?” Bucky snaps.

“Yes you can.” Your chin drops a little; your eyes are still closed. “I did my best, to try and make friends with you. I thought… it’d be good for me. Have someone who knows what I went through.”

“I didn’t know,” he says. He’s not snapping now. He’s quiet, almost plaintive. “I wish I had. I wish Sam had told me. I wish…” He trails off, sighs.

You peek open an eye. Bucky leans on his arm against the open car door jamb, eyes closed, face downcast. He looks… he looks like he’s more weighted down than you are.

A little warmth flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s real or just a hope.

You reach out and put a hand on his face. His skin is warm to the touch, as it always is. Bucky’s eyes pop open and he looks at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide and blue.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “And I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair not to tell you. Not… not when we were supposed to have each other’s backs.”

“I’ve got your back no matter what,” Bucky declares, and the warmth in your chest coils and warms you straight down to your fingertips.

There aren’t words for what you’re feeling. All you can do is crane your neck and press a kiss to his sooty cheek and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek again.

Bucky shudders in your hold, and it’s all you can do not to cry as he wraps an arm gently around you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “And I’m not letting go.”

#hbc secret seba #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

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proxylynn · 4 years ago

Text

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #25

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

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

Hell hath no fury like this fish woman. For Undyne's rage casts a near-visible aura of hate as she stormed her way into Hotland. Clad in her special armor, keeping her form from dehydrating, she intimidates those that witness her barreling towards the Lab. With a mighty kick, she almost hurls the doors from their hinges before continuing inside. Knowing all too well where her intended target is. Cameras follow her movements but do little to warn their owner in time. Alphys receives the signal just as the echos of hurried stomps reaches her ears. By the time the doors are thrown open, Alphys has made the scene a little more authentic and hides away her more sketchy items. As one can imagine, the Captain of the Royal Guard is less than pleased to see a human being given treatment instead of having its soul collected.

"U-Undyne...W-W-What a surprise."

"Cut the crap, Alphys. How long have you known about it being in the Underground?! Why wasn't I informed?! And why, in Asgore's name, are you keeping that thing alive?!"

The disgruntled captain points at the unconscious human strapped to a bloody slab with several machines around her. Thick bandages cover the wounds given on-screen, the eerie beeps of the machines that are annoyingly loud in the silence, sticky liquid crimson softly dribbles from the slab edges to a small pool draining on the floor as tubes and wires are placed on vital areas. The scene looks like a medical mess. For what good it does to try, Alphys puts on a straight face and gets professionally cold to defend her work.

"Your Captain of the Guard status does not mean I report to you or have to inform you of anything."

The rage of Undyne only increases.

"What did you say?!"

Alphys adjusts her glasses, snidely flipping Undyne off with her middle finger.

"I am the Royal Scientist. I work under and report directly to the King himself. My rank supersedes yours. And as such, unless it is a matter that requires your assistance, I will inform only those that are needed to be informed. Understood?"

Undyne snarls beneath her helmet. This type of thing wasn't uncommon. She knows that Alphys separates herself when it comes to her work. Undyne does it too but tries not to be so obnoxious. It's moments like this that make her crush a little less on this lizard girl.

"But to answer your question...This human has been living in the Ruins for quite some time. Sans and Papyrus have been monitoring her for me."

The skeletons? Those sneaky bastards! She bet Papyrus was thinking he'd use this to one-up her.

"Why use them and not me?"

"Really? You can't stand the cold and they live there. It's a no brainer."

Good point.

"Okay...But why monitor? The law clearly states that the soul of any human is to be collected. No exceptions!"

Undyne summons a spear and readies to spike the human through the face. That is till Alphys moves over to the human and interacts with one of the machines, making her soul slowly emerge...it's white. This sight has the captain of the guard drop her weapon and remove her helm to ensure her eye was not playing a trick on her. Without her helm, the true visage of the Captain of the Guard is shown. Undyne is a piscine anthropomorphic monster. She has blue scales and a long red hair she keeps in a wild ponytail. Red and blue fins on the sides of her head act like ears, she has no nose to speak of. Her teeth are sharp yellow daggers like a barracuda or shark. She has red eye shadow and has an eye-patch on her left eye. Her good eye has a black vertical pupil and a yellow sclera.

"It's...White? What the hell? It was light blue on TV. I saw it!"

"We all did. And it was purple when I first examined her. This is why I've had her under severance and not executed. This human...It's not like the humans we've encountered or the ones in our texts. She seems to be able to change traits or possesses multiple traits."

"How is that possible? Is that even a thing? Is that a thing humans can do now?"

"I haven't collected enough data to determine that. My current theory is that she may be a random mutation, an evolutionary anomaly of sorts. Though, from the information I have gotten, it seems the humans of now have indeed fully lost their usage of magic."

"I thought those past ones seemed off."

"Yes. The previous humans were lacking in their levels of magic but they still possessed it. This one, however, according to my scans had no magic in her soul prior to coming to the Underground."

Scientist say what?

"Wait...What's that supposed to mean?"

Alphys pulls out what looks to be her cell phone and moves it over the soul, scanning till it beeps. She then shows the results to the Captain.

"There's at least 20% to 30% magic now resonating in her soul. Enough to trigger magic prepubescence."

Undyne snickers at the thought of such a thing and it nearly breaks Alphys's composure.

"You can't be serious."

"I am. I had to stabilize the flux with those patches we give out to teens. It's why she's about 30%."

"Dare I ask...How a non-magic soul suddenly has magic?"

"Not sure. Perhaps it's the nature of such a weak soul to pull magic when it can, however, it can. Be it from the surroundings, food, or contact with other beings of magic. Who's to say? Or her soul could be like a parasite and leeching magic for as of yet unknown reasons. I'm just throwing ideas at this point."

"So...What you're saying is the human is dangerous."

"All humans are dangerous, Undyne. But this one? *scoff* Since being down here her LV hasn't budged from its base level."

The Captain is intrigued.

"Has it not been in a fight?"

"Quite the opposite. There's plenty of telltale signs, not to mention video surveillance, that indicates she's been attacked."

"So the wimp flees? Pathetic."

"Sometimes. Most of the time they endure the fight and find a way to end it without fighting back."

A gruff laugh leaves the fish woman.

"Pacifism? Down here? Now that's a joke."

Alphys checks on a liquid-filled bag that's emptying into the human's veins.

"As dumb as it may be, her strategy is a good thing..."

She increases the dripping.

"By not attacking, she isn't killing anyone. And by not killing anyone, she isn't gaining LV. And you know what that means."

Undyne grins like a hungry barracuda.

"It makes it all the easier to collect the last soul."

Alphys nods and removes her glasses to clean them.

"Still...With the number of unknown variables, I'd have to insist on further study of this soul and not just yet bringing it to the King, even if she dies."

"How come?"

"Like I said, too many unknowns. If Asgore wishes to fuse with the seven souls it would be best to make sure this one doesn't overpower or corrupt his own."

"Hmmm...I guess that's fair. We don't need to waste the human souls and lose the King if we can help it."

"My thoughts exactly."

Alphys puts her glasses back on and steps away from the human.

"Come, Undyne. We must leave now."

Confusion comes to the Captain.

"What? Why? You're really going to leave her unattended?"

Alphys grows colder.

"Do not be so stupid."

Undyne had to bite her tongue hard.

"I never said she'd be alone."

With a simple button press on her phone, the sound of speeding rubber screeches towards them, the door opening seconds later.

"IS IT TIME? SHE'S IN STABLE CONDITION?"

Mettaton skids to a stop with excitement.

"She's stable. And under heavy sedation. You may proceed with the prep work."

Digitized giggling pours from the automaton.

"EXCELLENT. LADIES, IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME..."

Undyne is ushered out by Alphys before she can question things.

"Um..."

"Don't think about it too much."

"But..."

"As they say...The show must go on. I suggest you stick around and watch what unfolds."

Undyne groans to herself.

"I'll make that spicy ramen that you like."

"...Extra chili flakes?"

"Yep."

"Hot damn!"

With the women gone, Mettaton turns his attention to the human on the slab.

"OH DARLING..."

A compartment opens on his side and he extracts what looks like a kit of some kind.

"WE HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DO."

[AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER-BEHIND THE LAB]

The wall of the building opens up, a split door allows the heat of Hotland in while the unconscious human carried by the killer robot comes out.

"FINALLY...THE SHOW CAN COMMENCE ONCE AGAIN."

While two of his arms set the human down his other two open a bottle of smelling salts and wave it under her nose, slowly rousing her back to consciousness.

"WAKIE WAKIE, DARLING."

She groans in delirium and sits up. Medical grade sedatives really pack a punch.

"FOCUS DEAR. HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?"

Mettaton holds up his four arms and each is displaying two fingers. Her head wobbles with dizziness and she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

"Mettaton? *yawn* Why is it so hot?"

Why did she have to be so cute when so messed up?

"I'LL ANSWER YOU IF YOU ANSWER ME."

She shakes her head clear and stares at him for a bit.

"Eight."

He sighs with relief and helps her up before patting her head.

"GOOD. YOU'RE PERFECTLY FINE."

"Not entirely sure that's what I'd call it after the game you made me do. But whatever. Least I ain't dead."

"THERE WE GO. ALWAYS LOOKING ON THE POSITIVE SIDE OF THINGS."

Her senses coming back, she looks at her form and begins growling at the mechanical television star.

"IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?"

"I'm going to ask this as calmly as I can and I want you to be honest...Did you dress me in my sleep?!"

In Mettaton's defense, it's not like he could leave her in her bloody outfit or the medical gown. And to his credit, he made it for her to be both fashionable as well as comfortable in Hotland's arid heat. A black zip back cutout crisscross cami top with MTT emblazoned in red across the chest, waist-high black garter shorts with tiny Mettaton studs along the straps, black ripped footless tights end in knee-high black riding boots that have red MTT zippers, and to add to her annoyance her nails were also painted red. The only normal thing about her was he kept her hair tied in a ponytail but moved it higher up to be more lively than her usual dead weight droop.

"TO BE FAIR, DARLING, YOU WERE A BLOODY MESS AFTER THE SHOW. IT WOULD BE TASTELESS TO HAVE MY CO-STAR CONTINUE IN ANYTHING LESS THAN THE BEST."

She gets flustered.

"That's not the point! You could've waited till I was awake and I would've dressed myself! Instead, you did so while I was vulnerable."

She shudders and looks away from him.

"To think...I started to like you."

An exclamation mark flashes on his screen.

"But it seems you're just as bad as the scum on the surface."

He panics and waves his hands in defense.

"W-WAIT A SECOND, DEAR, IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"

"Then...Aside from seeing my frail body, do you deny the obvious usage of me as brand advertisement?"

The look she gives him is cold and hurt, making him flinch.

"UM...WELL...I..."

She turns around with her hands on her hips and smirks.

"We're not on camera right now, are we?"

His screen flashes in confusion.

"...NO? NO CAMERAS ARE ACTIVE AT THIS MOMENT. WHY?"

"Heh...Because you're being you right now. The same guy I got to know over the phone. TV you is more cold and sticks to the script, like a soulless machine. This you, the ghost in the shell, this guy I like and willing to work with."

He's caught off guard by that remark.

"UM...WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU MEAN BY THAT?"

"Which part?"

"GHOST IN THE SHELL."

"Oh, that? It's the name of a manga/anime series. The setting is a future where technology is so advanced that it becomes an existential crisis if souls can transfer over to pure machine bodies and if artificial intelligence can gain humanity through cyber-evolution. It's really deep."

"OH."

"It also is a play on the fact you're literally a ghost in a robot shell."

He flinches.

"W-WHAT? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE..."

"Dude, don't lie. We're not on camera and Alphys already confirmed my suspicions."

He blanks for a moment sighing.

"WELL...BRAVO, DARLING. YOU'VE SOLVED MY GREATEST SECRET."

She shrugs.

"It's no big deal. And don't worry about anyone else knowing, I ain't a snitch."

"SUCH A CLEVER GIRL. I KNEW YOU'D BE PERFECT FOR THIS."

Her arms fold.

"While I was messing with you before, I am pissed about this."

"WHICH PART?"

"This! This isn't my style. It feels weird and shows way too much skin for my liking."

At this rate, he was lucky she couldn't see her reflection or she'd be pissed about how he did her makeup. Red eye-shadow to create a smoky effect on her eyelids. Mascara to make her long lashes even longer. A bold black swoop of liquid eyeliner all the way to the outer corners of her eyes and swept a little up at the end. And the pièce de résistance is the luscious red lipstick to make it all pop.

"BUT, DARLING, YOUR OLD CLOTHES WERE RUINED. BESIDES, WITH HOW THICK THAT FABRIC WAS, YOU'D DIHYDRATE IN MOMENTS OUT HERE. AND NO ONE WANTS A SWEATY DRIED OUT SACK ON SCREEN."

She leers.

"NOT SAYING YOU ARE ONE. MAKING THAT CLEAR HERE."

She sighs.

"I see your point. I ain't happy about it, but I see the reason behind it."

"GOOD."

She checks herself and gets upset.

"My items? Where are my items?!"

"I TOLD YOU, YOUR CLOTHES WERE A MESS AND I CHANGED YOU INTO THIS."

She grabs him.

"Metta, my buddy, I need my gear. My stats are crap without my items. Please tell me you didn't trash them...Please?!"

To understand her panic he checks her.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 20 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

Her HP increased? How? Her LV hasn't increased. Did she earn EXP in the game and recovery? Wait...The other stats are dangerously weak. Hmmm...This gives him a wicked idea. If his screen could grin it would be wide and twisted.

"OH HEAVENS NO, DARLING. YOUR POSSESSIONS ARE SAFE."

Her eyes light up.

"Sweet! Can I please have them?"

He grabs her waist and scoots her back from him a bit.

"UNFORTUNATELY, I DO NOT HAVE THEM ON ME."

"But...W-Where are they then?"

All four hands point out into the distance.

"YOU CAN HAVE YOUR ITEMS BACK...ONCE YOU MAKE TO THE NEXT FILM SET."

Her jaw drops.

"Dude! Are you freaking serious? Do we see the same stats? Because I'm fairly sure I can get one-shot killed out here."

"RELAX, DARLING..."

"Relax?! Says the guy that literally can't be hurt!"

He waves dismissively.

"AND THEY CALL ME DRAMATIC. LOOK, I CAN'T JUST GIVE YOU THEM BACK NOR CAN I TAKE YOU TO THE NEXT SET. YOU SHOULD KNOW THE REASON WHY."

She glares before pouting in defeat.

"The law requires you to still attempt to 'capture' me."

His screen flashes.

"BINGO! AND TO PROVE THAT I AM FOLLOWING THE LAW WHILE STILL WORKING WITH YOU, YOU WILL BE TELEVISED AS YOU MAKE YOUR WAY THROUGH MY SHOW GAUNTLET."

She looks at him funny.

"TO BE HONEST IT'S JUST NORMAL ENVIRONMENT AND PIPEWORK FOR THE CORE. BUT I DID ADD OBSTACLES AND PUZZLES, SO TECHNICALLY IT COUNTS."

Her funny look grows.

"And you film back there in all that?"

"IT MAKES MORE SENSE WHEN YOU SEE IT."

"I guess."

All four hands slap together in a loud clap.

"GREAT! NOW THAT THAT IS ALL SAID AND DONE, HERE'S THE DEAL. ONCE YOU TURN THAT CORNER AND BEGIN THE TREK, YOU'LL BE BACK ON TV."

"Okay."

"TRY NOT TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL, WE DON'T NEED VIEWERS KNOWING YOU'VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ADVERTISED AND WITH THE HELP OF OTHERS."

"True, very true."

"AND SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR PHONE..."

"Can I get that back too? I swear I won't make calls."

"OR TEXT?"

"Did you even see my phone? It can't text or take pictures."

"HMMM...I'LL THINK ABOUT IT."

"Please and thank you."

"LIKE I WAS SAYING SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE IT AND MAY NEED HELP UNDERSTANDING A FEW OF THE MORE TRICKIER PUZZLES..."

On hand retreats into his body and pops out with a small clip-like earring that, you guessed it, looks like him.

"ATTACH THIS TO YOUR EAR AND YOU'LL BE ABLE TO HEAR MY MELODIOUS VOICE WHEN I NOTICE YOU'RE NOT PROGRESSING."

"Not that I'm against it, but isn't this cheating?"

He chuckles while bringing her close and clipping it to her right ear.

"DON'T THINK OF IT LIKE THAT. IT'S LIKE YOU SAID, YOU'RE WILLING TO WORK WITH ME AND WE BOTH DON'T WANT YOU DEAD. YOU'LL STILL BE GOING AT THIS ON YOUR OWN, BUT WITH A LITTLE LIFELINE THAT GIVES YOU CLUES AND NOT FULL ANSWERS. NOW DOES THAT SOUND MORE OKAY?"

"FANTASTIC!"

He spins around and shoves her to the ground before retracting his wheel to begin hovering.

"WELL, DARLING, THE NEXT WE MEET I HOPE IT TO BE SOON AND WHILE YOU STILL BREATHE."

"Um...Me too."

He takes off like a rocket to the next stage, kicking up dust and smoke in his wake.

"FAIR THEE WELL...!"

The cloud takes a bit to settle and the human finds herself alone. The path ahead is unknown but the only way to go. Somehow being behind the building she thinks she was held within and with no door to speak of insight. She silently prayed that her trust in the robot that abducted her was well placed...even though that thought made her question her ability to pick people to trust. Either way, her journey through game show hell begins now as she walks the lonely road that is way too narrow and high up for her liking.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

Nothing. Nothing but re-run filler has been on the TV for hours. And all they could do was wait. Wait for any change on that damn picture box. Papyrus was doing his best to keep a worried Toriel and tense Grillby from burning the house down. Sans on the other hand was lost in his mind, retracing the history of his time in the LAB and its many rooms. Where were they hiding the human? What new rooms were added since he left? Could Alphys still be using the old underground facility?

*obnoxious fanfare*

The television cuts from its old showing to Mettaton live out in Hotland, on real clues can be seen as he hovers about the volcanic rock.

"SORRY FOR THE DELAY MY DEADLY GUYS AND DOLLS. SEEMS I WAS A BIT TOO ROUGH DURING OUR LAST GAME AND MY CO-STAR NEEDED EXTRA TIME TO RECOVER. GUESS I DON'T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH."

His nonchalant attitude and words were far from comforting to the four.

"BUT FEAR NOT, AS SHE HAS MADE A FULL RECOVERY!"

A weight is lifted from the room.

"IN FACT, SHE'S ON THE START OF THE NEXT PHASE OF OUR SHOW. A DANGEROUS GAUNTLET OF OBSITCLES, DAUNTING PUZZLES, AND THE RANDOM VAGABOND THAT MAY OR MAY NOT JUST HAPPEN TO BE WANDERING AROUND."

The video feed shifts to the human on a conveyor belt. Merely scrolling along in a tacky outfit and makeup trying not to look down.

"The fuck is she wearing?!"

Grillby fumes. Toriel is equally unhappy about her daughter's new look. Sans rolls his eyes, finding it somewhat funny that Grillby is displeased by this when did way worse before.

"HER GOAL, REACH THE END TO BEGIN OUR NEXT SHOW SEGMENT. SHE WILL REPEAT THIS TWO MORE TIMES BEFORE ENDING WITH OUR FOURTH AND FINAL ENCOUNTER."

That doesn't sound good. The feed zooms in on her.

"WILL SHE SURVIVE AND EARN HER LIFE TO LIVE FOR ANOTHER DAY? OR WILL THIS BE THE DAY THE LAST SOUL IS COLLECTED? WE SHALL FIND OUT SOON ENOUGH. IN THE MEANTIME, I NEED TO AQUIRE A FEW ODDS AND ENDS, SO I LEAVE YOU TO OUR DARLING'S DARING DO. ENJOY."

The camera switches to a different angle and continues to follow her. Before the words can even leave Papyrus's mouth Sans is already shaking his head.

"i still don't know where that is."

"ARE YOU SURE?"

"trust me, i don't recognize where she's at."

"Don't you have a post in Hotland?"

Grillby points out much to Papyrus's puzzlement.

"YOU HAVE A POST IN HOTLAND?"

Sans sighs.

"it's like i told ya, i do more than ya think i do. i have posts at the start of snowdin forest, waterfall's beginning, level two of hotland, and i am the one that waits in the judgment hall."

Papyrus is even more confused but Toriel starts to broil.

"You...You were the one all along, were you not?"

Sans balls his fists, bracing for this.

"You were the one that killed the humans that left the Ruins."

No Tori...not all...just one...over and over again.

"no. i haven't killed anyone."

That gave her some relief. But more questions.

"Then if not you, who does harm them?"

"asgore does."

And that killed it. Her eyes sink with a flame, one of hate and despair. It's painfully obvious. She's going to snap.

"ya should know he doesn't take pleasure in doin' it."

Her expression falters.

"it's a lot of weight on that old goat's shoulders. what with bein' a king and everyone expectin' him to solve all our problems, like breakin' the barrier. it's one thing to kill someone that's wronged ya. it's much harder to look an innocent in the eyes and end them."

She frowns, seeing some truth in his words.

"ya may hate his guts, but he's harborin' the biggest burden. bein' the one to harvest the souls."

"But..."

Does she still wish to fight?

"But the law states humans are to be killed on sight, right? You can not tell me the Guard has not spilled blood in all this time!"

"ACTUALLY..."

Papyrus chimes in.

"WHILE IT'S TRUE, THAT IS THE BLUNTEST FORM OF THE LAW, IT'S NOT THE EXACT WORDING. *AHEM* IF A LIVING HUMAN IS FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND THAN THEY ARE TO BE ENGAGED AND CAPTURED. EXTREME CAUTION AND VIOLENCE IS TO BE USED IN THE APRENTION OF HUMAN SOULS. NOWHERE IS IT SAID WE ARE TO KILL ON SIGHT. BUT THE CURRENT CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD HAS INTERPRETED THIS LAW IN HER OWN WAY AND INFORCES IT AS SUCH...DEATH TO ALL HUMANS. NO EXCEPTIONS. OVERTIME, THAT'S HOW THE LAW EVOLVED TO BE KNOWN TO THE PUBLIC."

"Why?"

"captain undyne lost her family in the war. that kind of wound doesn't heal easily. it didn't help much that the hammer of punishment took her in as his own."

That name struck a chord.

"Gerson? I suppose that does make sense. He was ruthless in his prime. And he left our court when we choose to surrender. Said we were showing weakness by giving in. So many were already lost...We wanted to end the slaughter before the dust count became unrecognizable."

"seems that spite got passed on in undyne."

"OUR CAPTAIN GOES BY ANOTHER...THE SPEAR OF PUNISHMENT."

Her worry overcomes any animosity she held.

"I pray my child never encounters your Captain."

One can only hope.

"Shit..."

Grillby gets their attention.

"She's been spotted."

Eyes return to the television and the footage shown. The human had passed the large system of conveyor belts going forward and backward. Exhaust ports of vermilion flame burst from nearby pipes in the background, the wooshing sound of steam and cogs adding to the scenery. Reaching the end of the conveyor belts, the human comes into view of several small islands surrounded by boiling lava. Most of these islands hold steam vents. However, the human is unaware of this due to being blocked by a Tsunderplane.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

Damn this heat. Damn this plan of yours, Mettaton. And damn this odd-looking monster that won't get out of my way. It appears to resemble a regular real-world modern airplane, an Airbus A340-300 to be exact, wearing a black mob cap with thin red ribbons on it, a faint blush tints its nosecone.

"Um...Do you mind?"

I move slightly to the side, trying to give it room while avoiding the edge. But it just moves the same as I do, almost like a mock mimic. Maybe it's just a fluke. I try it again. And again it does it.

"You're not gonna let me by, are you?"

My soul feels gripped and without skipping a beat, my blue soul comes out, a battle begins.

[Tsunderplane gets in the way! Not on purpose or anything.]

Wait...Don't tell me that name means what I think it does. What are my options?

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

That weird one came back? It looks so...messed up. I won't touch it. Maybe as a last resort, but not if I can help it. Let's see what this thing is made of.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[FLIRT]

[APPROACH]

I am not doing those last two before I know what this thing can do.

[CHECK selected.]

[TSUNDERPLANE – HP: 80 ATK: 25 DEF: 26 – Seems mean, but does it secretly like you?]

"The fuck...?"

This plane catches an attitude.

"No way! Why would I like YOU?!"

Especially since we've only just met. Wait...

"You can talk?!"

It moves it's wings up, summing its attack. Several smaller planes fly horizontally straight from either side above me, dropping bombs that look like miniature nukes. Once a bomb hits the ground, a vertical line of toxic smoke appears and blocks my sight momentarily. All in all, this is not easy to avoid because of the lack of space and I end up taking a really nasty hit.

[HP ████████████████ 15/40]

I'm too afraid to check my wound. My ears are ringing and I feel damp somewhere on my side. I won't stand another hit like that. Damn it! I need my defense items!

*bang*

My head is smacked hard by metal.

[Tsunderplane "accidentally" bumps you with its wing.]

It pushed me back. It's keeping distance. Why it's not like it needs the room, damn thing can fly. I wonder...What'll happen if I get close? But first I need to heal.

[ITEM selected.]

I need to remember to thank Flowey when I see him again. If it wasn't for his prodding I'd have nothing in my inventory.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Ah, much better. Now I just need to avoid getting hit again. My turn ends.

"Hmph! Id... Idiot! Don't get in my way!"

You blocked me, asshat.

She uses a different attack but one that's somewhat easier to deal with. Large planes fly directly at me, leaving a horizontal-moving toxic trail of smoke balls. I am grateful this was it's second go. I dodge this one better, no damage taken.

[Tsunderplane shakes its nose dismissively at you.]

"_... Human..."

Now it speaks in emojis? I mean, I guess that's a thing that can happen, Gaster speaks in hands and junk.

"Something wrong? I can't help but notice."

Going off its behavior and name, I put some real emphasis on the word notice. It flinches. Got you.

Tsundere is a Japanese term for a character development process that depicts a person who is initially cold and sometimes even hostile before gradually showing a warmer, friendlier side over time. The word is derived from the terms tsun tsun ('to turn away in disgust or anger') and dere dere ('to become affectionate'). They're the opposite of a Yandere. Yandere is a Japanese term for a person who is initially very loving and gentle to someone or at least innocent before their devotion becomes destructive in nature, often through violence and/or brutality. The term is derived from the words yanderu (a mental or emotional illness) and dere dere. They are different and yet have one weakness...Wanting the attention of Senpai, the person they have a fondness for. Why do I know all this? Because I'm a big freaking dork! I can use this. I just don't understand why it would have such feelings.

"...H-human ... ...?"

Now to test my theory.

[APPROACH selected.]

[You get close to Tsunderplane. But not too close.]

"Eeeeh? H-human ...?"

It's getting flustered. I'm not proud of this method but if it works to keep me alive, so be it.

"You don't mind me getting close, right?"

[Tsunderplane looks over, then turns up its nose.]

"Huh!? Y-you sicko!"

It spins on heels it doesn't have and nearly takes my head. This ain't going to be easy.

The mini planes return but something's off. Six planes attacked me before, but now there's only three. Easier than before yet still dangerous. That smoke is noxious and obnoxious.

[Tsunderplane gives you a condescending barrel roll.]

"Don't think I'm going easy on you! It's not like I LIKE you."

Your actions say otherwise, so does that growing blush. Time for phase two.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has an impressive wingspan.]

"I must say, birds wish they could have wings like that. Very cool."

It covers its nosecone in its wingtips.

"Ah...is that true...?"

"Why would I lie?"

I think this is working. It summons the large planes again but this time the planes are surrounded by narrow green auras and the smoke trails aren't moving. Curiosity has me touching the green and finding it does two things. One, it doesn't hurt me. And two, it's blushing more excitedly. After touching four Tsunderplane is practically glowing, or it could be the headlights. And when that last sixth plane passes Tsunderplane looks away shyly and starts to give off the smell of an airport perfume counter. Maybe just one more to seal the deal.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has cute winglets.]

"Awww...Those wingtip fences are so cute! Then again, on such an adorable aircraft, that's to be expected."

It loses its mind. Jetting high up and aileron rolls three times before zipping off into the distance.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 60 gold.]

Damn! That's some gold! Much needed due to spending all my gold in Waterfall so long ago.

"Not my worse fight but one of the more interesting ones. Till we meet again, Tsunderplane-chan."

I wave to where I saw Tsunderplane fly off and return to my journey. However, this is short-lived once again, but not by a monster. I think this is one of the obstacles Mettaton told me about. The land is broken. Vents shoot out big gusts of steam. I think he intends for me to use these to traverse the area since there are painted red arrows on the one in front of me and the one across from it. The flaw in this plan of his is this...In trying to have seen any of this, I ended up looking down.

Sweat begins to slide down my brow, but not from the heat. My wide eyes can't look away from the high as hell drop to lava that I'm meant to cross. My body starts to tremble. My breathing harsh. I'm going into a panic.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

That was a stressful fight to watch. The massive damage the human took at the start made it clear she had been stripped of her armor, adding harsher levels of difficulty to an already challenging task. But they know her well by this point. She's clever. She's adaptable. She's stubborn as hell. And she knows they're likely watching.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Toriel's motherly heart was swelling. This one. This was the one she believed could survive in this hell. And her non-violent victory against the Tsunderplane made it more clear that her daughter wasn't so much the child she believed her to be.

"Yeah! Way to go, pussycat!"

Grillby is at least in better spirits. He nearly torched the couch when he thought of Mettaton stripping her of her armor.

"SHE'S NOT MOVING."

True. The human had won the fight but was now frozen in place by the vents, fear dripped from her face.

"uh oh."

This got attention.

"What is wrong? Why does she not continue?"

"pap and me found this out about her when she first came out of the ruins. she's afraid of heights. and if she doesn't move soon, she'll pass out under the pressure."

"But...It's not like she can just leave. And if she falls..."

No one wanted to finish that thought.

"THE HELL...?"

Something new appears and has their attention.

"Flowey?"

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne had been watching the many screens Alphys controls as part of Mettaton's live feed broadcast. Nothing had been particularly interesting, not even that bogus fight with the Tsunderplane. But then...

"The fuck...? Alphys, you seeing this?"

Of course, the lizard was scribbling like a madman on her notepad. This was something new.

"Huh...Show me what ya got, human."

The fish woman resumes watching with a hearty slurp of noddles.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

It's happening again. My legs turn to jelly and I drop to my knees. I can't do this. I can't move. What if I fall? I don't want to burn to death. I heard it's not quick either like how movies portray it. The pain overload is what kills you. I don't want that. I ̕ca͢n̛'́t ͢de̶al͏! Í ̸c̷̨a̴n'͡t!͘

*STATIC* HELLO? DARLING? CAN YOU HEAR ME?

The earpiece Mettaton gave me goes off. But something's interfering.

*STATIC* YOU NEED TO GET GOING, DEAR. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE STEAM. IT WON'T BURN. THOUGH YOU MIGHT GET A BIT TENDER IF YOU PLAY IN THEM TOO LONG.

T̷̵h̷́at̵̨'̧͞s̵̸͞ ́̀not ̷̕͜h́el̴͘̕p̛i̸͜ng͟!̢͟

I feel it starting. The blood dripping from my nose. Why? Why am I so weak?!

*STATIC* DARLING? COME ON. YOU NEED TO MOVE. WE HAD A DEAL.

F̴̶͢u͘͞c̶͞k͏ ͟͏̴ý̢ou ̸́a̶̕͜n҉͞d҉̛ ̶̀y͢o̡u̸͠r̸ ̧́͝d͞e̢͜ą̕l͢͝! ̨̛I͝͞͝'̶m̢҉ n̡o̡͜͝t̴ ̵҉̛m̀͏o͘͝v̴́͠i͏̀n͟͡ǵ͜!̴

Strange energy begins to crackle around me. I don't know what it is and it's freaking me out more!

"There you are..."

Life returns to me upon hearing Flowey's voice.

"You just always seem to...The hell is up with your face?!"

"B̢͢͞ŗ̡̀o̸t̡h̡͟e̵̛r͘̕͞?"

The strange energy slowly dissipates, Flowey being here is calming me down, though the sight still unnerves him.

"Easy now. Just calm down. You don't want to overtax your soul."

"S̨-̀Sơr͡ry̷.̛.͞.I.̶..͢*shaky inhale*I looked down."

Flowey moves over to me and pats my leg with a tiny vine.

"Don't worry, your big brother's here for you."

I give him a nervous smile and wipe my nose.

"So...What's wrong with my face?"

"Uh...Nothing. You look fine."

I look at him flatly.

"I have makeup on, don't I?"

"Well..."

God dang it, Mettaton.

"Fudge it. As long as I'm not dolled up like a clown, ignore it. Right now I need help."

"Fine with me, but first...I want an apology for that stunt at the bar."

I nod.

"I'm sorry. It was a dirty move. But..."

He pouts.

"You wanted to talk to him without me butting in."

I claw the ground.

"...There are things I still can't tell you."

"When? When can you open up to me?"

"Soon. Lots of stuff I know is in pieces. I just need to figure out how it all fits to understand."

"Like what?"

"Well for starters...Getting through this crap."

Flowey looks out at the vents.

"You really can't do this?"

"No. My acrophobia, paranoia, vertigo, and lack of self-confidence prevents it."

"Sheesh. At least your honest."

I sit on my heels and slap my face a few times, trying to psych myself out.

"The body and mind both have their own ways of keeping themselves safe. Even if one of them is tricking the other. My body won't move if my brain keeps telling it no because it feels in danger."

"Hmmm...And I take it you're not up for that blindfold idea again."

I look at him confused.

"Over lava?!"

He sighs.

"Yeah, fair enough."

This sucks.

"Oh! I got an idea. What if I carry you over?"

Flower-goat-boy say what?

"Not to put you down, bro, but I ain't exactly light and I don't want you to hurt yourself trying."

He winks.

"Trust me. I'm stronger than you think."

I don't doubt you, I'm more worried I'll freak out if he does. But what choice do I have? Sit her forever or move forward.

"Okay. But not yet."

"Huh?"

I feel the ground again.

"This is rock and yet you're moving through it..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you scout ahead through this vent thing? Tell me if other monsters or crap is hiding?"

He nods.

"Can do."

He sinks into the ground. Here's hoping he stays out of sight of any hostiles. A few times I see his petal head pop up from time to time, but in areas I can't see I get a bit shook. Especially when he's out of sight for too long. I count the seconds between each puff of steam, giving up because it's too fast. A small rumble off to my side, part of Flowey's stem is protruding but seems to be having trouble coming out. With some wiggling and what looks like some tugging, he emerges yet only partly.

"*strain* H-Hey...I found something you can use."

I'm curious. I help chip some ground away and something metal appears. Looping my finger through a hole, I help him pull this mystery thing out and wow it puts up quite the struggle. With a final double pull from the both of us, the object reveals itself...a frying pan?

"The hell...?"

"I found it at one of the areas off over there. It once belonged to a human that fell a long time ago."

All this mismatch stuff. What were the humans that fell before even doing to fall with such stuff? Whatever, an item gained is better than no items at all.

[You equipped the Nasty Pan.]

[You gain 10 Attack.]

[You don't know if it's covered in old food or gore. Either way, the damage is rather consistent. Consumables items will heal 4 more HP.]

"Damn. Was really hoping for some defense boost."

"Sorry. How uneven does this make your stats now?"

"See for yourself."

He's confused till he CHECKs me.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 30 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

"What the...? What happened?!"

I stand and stretch.

"I got mugged."

He frowns.

"The robot?"

I answer with a nod and change the line of chatter to current events.

"Was there anyone out there?"

He shakes his head.

"At least that's some good news. So how do we do this?"

He moves back, over to where the path sort-of splits.

"This way."

With no other moves, I follow him to a spot where a vent is missing and he points to the land across it.

"Over there is the exit. If you can not freak out, I should be able to take you over there."

My spine shivers.

"Are you certain you can lift me over? That's at least a ten-foot gap, give or take."

"Trust me. I know what I'm capable of."

I swallow what little courage I have and shut my eyes tight.

"Please, make it quick."

"Don't worry, I got you."

There's silence for a bit. Then something slithers under then over my shoulders and slinks to wrap around my waist. I want to look but when my feet leave the ground my entire body clenches.

"Easy now. No sudden moves."

That doesn't help.

I do my best to block out everything. Like the feel of wind brushing past and intense heat that wafts up from below. My nerves are threatening to go off again. The instant I can feel a foot touch anything solid my eyes shoot open.

"See? Told you I could do it."

He's already on this side with me. Probably moved here first then reached over and carried my dumb frightened ass over. Bless you, super flower-goat-boy! The vines release and I'm once more on terra firma. I use this moment to hug Flowey.

"Thank you!"

He chuckles and now it's two going through Mettaton's show. If only I didn't leave my bag at home. Then he'd be riding with me. Then again, Mettaton would've taken that too and really screwed me over.

FINALLY. AS TOUCHING AS THAT WAS, DARLING, YOU NEED TO GET MOVING. WE'RE ALREADY BEHIND SCHEDULE AS IT IS.

I pop my neck and nod. The sooner I get through this the sooner it ends and we can go home.

"You okay with following me in case of other bull?"

"Oh yeah. You're going to need me. There are more vents past this.

I groan and silently curse everything before walking. Upon entering the north path past the steam vents, we come across another path made of pipework that veers to the right. This would be super chill if it weren't for the freaking lasers!

"This shouldn't be a big deal."

I look down at Flowey funny.

"Dude...Do you not see the lasers?"

He shakes his head.

"Don't think of them like you think they are. Those are made with magic energy. You remember what I told you about orange and light blue magic, don't you?"

It takes a second for that to click in my head. My small smirk lets him know I'm not completely stupid.

"See you on the other side."

He retreats to the ground and has to move through that, not like he can go through metal shit. So I take on this obstacle. There are nine lasers in total that go the order of orange, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, cyan, and orange, with the cyan ones moving around. So by the logic of magic properties, I move through the orange ones and pause for the cyan ones till it's safe to keep going. In no time I'm at the end, a large metal pillar has a big red switch and out of spite I flip it. This effectively turns the laser off. Sweet! That was easy. Onward I go. The path veers upward and, can you guess, has more of those damn vents. A base one that changes directions, a one on the left and right side as well as in front. The path wants me to go forward but is blocked by a locked door. No doubt each side has a puzzle that opens each lock. Gotta love real-life video game logic.

"Not so bad, right?"

Speaks the emerging flora to my right.

"Still in one piece."

I joke to myself to keep the dumb side of me from saying something to jinx me.

"Need another lift?"

Looking at the gap between vents, it's not so evil as the first ones, maybe about four or five feet.

"I think I can manage this one."

He's relieved, thinking I'm being a big girl and fighting my fear.

"Great! I knew you could...wait...What are you...?!"

Don't think. Just act. Fear can't affect you if you don't realize it's there.

I take a short sprint and make nice bound over to where he's at. He's rather confused.

"The hell? What about your phobia?"

"Easy...Didn't think about it."

I head for the puzzle and he's flabbergasted.

"Wha...but...You still could've used the vents!"

"Nope!"

He catches up to me as I get distracted looking at two monsters sitting at the cliff's edge.

"You scare me something."

"How do you think I feel? I scare myself and I'm the one doing it."

There's a room nearby but these two just pull my attention. There's what appears to be a pale-green dragon in a black business suit and slick shade, like some sort of scaly lawyer. A black wisp-like monsters that reminds me of Grillby, even sporting glasses, in a gray tank-top and red pants drinking something steaming hot, dude looks chill in this heat. They don't seem to notice us and I can hardly hear bits of their chit chat. Something about how they're glad that the reactivated puzzles are preventing them from progressing as they do not want to go to work. They are also muttering some other stuff but I head for the room before they see this random human.

Inside the puzzle room, I'm met by two things. The puzzle itself and a disembodied fox head wearing sunglasses. The fuck am I tripping on?!

"The door leading through the area is closed?"

Dear God, it bounces as it talks and speaks with an upward inflection like valley speak! It hurts my brain. Good news, it has no clue what I am. Yay!

"So I tried the puzzle? But I kept running out of ammo, and it kept restarting?"

"...Bummer."

"And my two co-workers won't help? It's like they don't even wanna go to work?"

"Harsh."

"Why don't you try? Try using the console?"

I shrug and give this thing a little checking out. No real help from the fox so maybe the puzzle will tell me what to do. Oh, look! The convenient "?" icon is super tiny and hidden in the corner while also being somewhat the same color as the background. That's not a dick move, oh no, not in the slightest.

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Okay, that's useful. Let's see...Four immovable blocks, two movable ones, and two open spaces. The immovable blocks are in each corner and the movable ones are in my way. And to top it all off, I get only two shots. Scoot the two away, shoot, and puzzle solved.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

That's one done, another to go.

"Wow? You solved it? I'm impressed? You must be a total nerd?"

...Jackass.

Leaving the room has Flowey grabbing my wrist with a vine and tugging me to get moving.

"Bro, chill, what's wrong?"

"I heard them talking. They've been watching Mettaton's broadcast on their phones."

Yeah, that's our cue to skedaddle.

"Please use the vents this time."

I speed past him much to his chagrin.

"Screw...the...rules!"

I shout with each leap taken. I know deep down he wants to call me dumb and yet I'm kinda proud I'm able to forget about the incredibly high path we're treading that drops into freaking lava. He rejoins me as a non-moving cyan laser seemingly impedes my progress. However, it's waist level in height and nothing is stopping me from crawling underneath it.

"Wow."

"I know, right?"

Like on the right side, the left has the puzzle room and two monsters just hanging out on the cliff. These two monster girls are wearing what look like red and black Japanese school uniforms. The fuck? Not sure what's weirder, everyone's bravery by being that close to death or how the hell they got those clothes. Either way, one girl is purple with possible tentacle hair and has red eyes with black sclera, she is so clearly a tom-boy with her red back facing cap and skateboard. While the other girl is made up of lime green flame and gives off this way too innocent vibe for being here and with the bad-girl. Hotland does seem more and more to be Grillby's former home. How many more fire elementals live here?

"You think the laser has them stuck here?"

"Maybe. I know I wouldn't crawl on the floor with a skirt like that."

I enter the room and thankfully there's no head laying around that speaks in headache-inducing jabber. Let's see...Are the rules the same?

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Yep. Same rules but different layout. Five immovable blocks, six movable ones, and five open spaces. The three immovable ones are in corners, one is above a corner, and the last is touching the corner of a corner block. And once more I get two shots. The movable blocks from a backward jacked letter C. This one is a bit more complex. The majority of the blocks move in one push. I have to try this a few times before I'm able to have it clear enough to shoot through one block and then the target.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

If my calculations are correct, the door should be open now and further progress can be made. I leave the room and notice the laser is off. Flowey is also nowhere to be seen, probably due to the girls having moved from their original spot.

"Finally! Someone turned off that laser!"

Don't thank me, I'm just awesome.

"Now that we're free we can... Well, uh, I guess we'll just keep standing here."

"Hm? Nice try, but your loitering technique still needs work."

They chat with themselves. Great time to be invisible.

"Loitering around... What's the point?"

"Beats being in school. Why should we bother going to school, anyway...? What's the point in learning how to make a buncha puzzles? There's GOTTA be a way to cancel school."

"But isn't it summer vacation?"

"...Auuuugh! This world's got no future!"

A bit overly dramatic. Whatever. Back to business. I rush to make my final leap and almost trip on the pipework floor. Yeah...Not gonna be doing this jump thing anymore. Lost my nerve for it. Motion activates the door and it slides opens into the rock.

"Okay, Metta...Here I come."

Going through the door leads me to a small bit of land that turns to the right and three widely spaced vents in a row to reach the next...Is that kitchen linoleum? I can't be seeing that right.

"Seems like you have no choice this time."

Flowey appears.

"Can't at least hurl me across?"

He shakes his head.

"I can't support carrying you that far and I'm not risking you falling to death."

"Yeah, my luck as of late would be that level of crap."

I smack myself a few times to ready my timid nerves.

"Any words of wisdom before I do this?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Beware of chainsaws."

"What?!"

He sinks into the ground and I internally scream...Fuck my life!

Stepping onto the vent blocks the steam for a bit. The building pressure launches me from one vent to the next. By the time I reach solid ground I'm about ready to vomit my still-beating heart out.

"I hate heights!"

I'm gonna punch him. I swear, even if it breaks my hands, I will beat the shit out of Mettaton for this.

Still shaken I crawl my way into the next area. It's very weird. As if the linoleum wasn't odd, I'm now in what looks like a kitchen set. Oh...Oh god no...This can't mean...

"Don't tell me this is what I think it is."

As if on cue, low and behold, my metal master of moronic mayhem hovers down from the heavens wearing a chef's hat.

"OHHHH YES! WELCOME, DASTARDLIES, TO THE UNDERGROUND'S PREMIER COOKING SHOW!"

(Cooking with a Killer Robot)

"PRE-HEAT YOUR OVENS, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT A VERY SPECIAL RECIPE FOR YOU TODAY! WE'RE GOING TO BE MAKING...A CAKE! DEVIL'S FOOD CAKE TO BE EXACT."

Two of his hands stretch out and grab me, despite my pointless clawing at the floor, to present me to cameras I can't see.

"MY LOVELY ASSISTANT HERE WILL GATHER THE INGREDIENTS. EVERYONE GIVE THEM A BIG HAND!"

An applause sound effect goes off as well as confetti falls. I glare at myself.

"*mutter* You better have my stuff as promised or I will purposefully make sure your ratings bomb."

He pulls me in so only I hear him.

"*WHISPER* DO THAT AND YOU CAN KISS YOUR ITEMS GOODBYE."

I snort a huff and try to put on a smile. This seems to be what he wants.

"WE'LL NEED SUGAR, MILK, FLOUR, CHOCOLATE, AND EGGS. GO FOR IT, SWEETHEART!"

He's being overly flashy and fantastic. I should play along...but I'm too pissy and bitter. Plus calling me sweetheart irks me. You want a nice human? I'll be so sweet your blood sugar will spike!

"*giggles* Golly-gee. Thanks for having me on your show, Mr. Mettaton. Let's make the bestest best cake ever!"

This is stooping to new levels of pettiness that I might want to find a therapist for later. I'm pushing for a nearly unbelievable level of childish innocence as I scope the set and gather ingredients. All the while he watches every little skip and mean-spirited twirl I make before bring it all back to him a dopey smile.

"All done, Mr. Mettaton. This is going to be the most choco-lickity-yummiest cake in the universe!"

He puts two of his hands together and one on my head before sighing.

"DARLING...I LOVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, I REALLY DO. BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE AUDIENCE, COULD YOU LOWER THE CUTE DOWN A BIT?"

I give the puppy dog eyes.

"Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?"

He flinches and without thinking he slams my head into the counter. I roar and cover my face, trying not to burst into a hurricane of swears while he goes about the show.

"PERFECT! GREAT JOB, BEAUTIFUL! WE'VE GOT ALL OF THE INGREDIENTS WE NEED TO BAKE THE CAKE! MILK... SUGAR... FLOUR... CHOCOLATE... EGGS..."

He gasps suddenly while I check if my nose is broken. Good news, it's not.

"OH MY! WAIT A MAGNIFICENT MOMENT! HOW COULD I FORGET! WE'RE MISSING THE MOST IMPORTANT INGREDIENT!"

I wipe a small bit of blood off my forehead.

"And what ingredient is that? This was everything you told me to get."

Some of my attitude is coming out but not too much.

"WHY, IT'S NOTHING WE HAVE TO GO SEARCHING FOR. YOU BROUGHT IT HERE WITH YOU."

I look at him funny until I see him pulling two chainsaws out from under the counter.

"A HUMAN SOUL!"

My heart sinks as he revs them up. Yet when he begins to do a slow methodical approach...My brain remembers to do one of my many pointless talents. Poking holes things with needless but true knowledge.

"Objection!"

The nerd in me is giddy for being able to make him pause with that.

"YES?"

I slap the counter.

"This recipe is bogus. What kind of cake calls for an ingredient that is so rare and priceless as a human soul? I submit my dumb argument, because I'm willing to admit the idiocy of saying this, that a human soul would serve a far greater purpose than being used for baked goods. Such as breaking the barrier. What say you, Metta? Do you have anything to back up your reasoning to use my soul in this cake?"

I wonder if Napsablook has an emulator on his PC? I want to play Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney now.

His screen blinks a little in thought. Before one of his arms leaves the murder weapon to go somewhere off set and return to put a can on the counter.

"...What is that?"

"THAT, MY DEAR, IS MTT-BRAND ALWAYS-CONVENIENT HUMAN-SOUL-FLAVOR-SUBSTITUTE! AVAILABLE AT ANY OF MY FINE RETAIL MARKETS! PROOF THAT THIS IS SOMETHING RATHER COMMON DOWN HERE AND THEREFORE, NOT A COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE IDEA AS TO WHY USE OF YOUR SOUL WOULD BE IN COOKING."

I stare dumbfounded at this can.

"This...This thing holds stuff that tastes like a human soul?"

He turns one chainsaw off and leans on it like a villain does with a cane.

"IT IS WHAT IT IS, DARLING. THE LABEL DOESN'T LIE. I SELL ONLY THE BEST. AND I GUARANTEE, IF YOU TRY IT, YOU'D NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I put my hands together, hold them to my face, and ponder the meaning of life."

"Metta, my dude...This is some messed up stuff right here."

"HOW SO?"

I sigh through my nose and lose my ability to be subtle.

"You do know that souls can be used as sexual organs, right?"

He slips from his cool pose in shock.

"DARLING! CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY! THIS IS LIVE AND KIDS MIGHT BE WATCHING."

"Do not change the subject by insinuating children don't have the ability to understand. Kids are always learning and they find things out quicker than others give credit. Such as their body's and, because it's a monster's core, soul. You can not expect me to believe that knowledge of that caliber is unknown."

I grab the can harshly.

"Knowing that, the fact this can exists and as you claim is indistinguishable from the real deal, it insinuates that you or someone else on your staff knows what a human soul tastes like. Meaning...Someone has had oral sex with a human soul."

He falls over at my accusations. Chainsaws long forgotten. But I'm not done.

"Further more, this can opens a can of worms in its implications. Forgive my armature knowledge on the subject, but in the old myths above, there is no mention of monsters feeding on human souls. Such things usually are connected to demons. So this concept is either new to the Underground or you're making it up purely for this show!"

My head is swimming with weird thoughts and I'm unable to keep them to myself.

"Fearing that the humans would one day turn on monster kind and slaughter their people, absorb their few boss souls and become dominant over them, the monsters decided to launch a preemptive strike. That's what the old text said, but...If this feeding on souls it true..."

I glare at the can, not liking the thoughts it's making me get.

"Then humans had a reason to seal you away."

Those words are bitter and I spit them getting angry, squeezing the can with force.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

It crunches, metal splitting to cut into my hand before furiously throwing it at the fake window behind us.

"Tell me I'm wrong! Don't make me feel bad for humanity!"

I'm physically shaking. My rage tapering on the verge. It's not even towards anyone. How can it? What's in the past is there forever. But this...Don't tell me this is real and in the present.

"Please..."

I lick my hand, trying to focus on the sting and hint of copper to calm me down. Finally able to recover, Mettaton dusts himself off. Taking note of my behavior and picking his words carefully.

"WOW, DARLING. SUCH RAW EMOTION. THE PASSION. FEAR. ANGER. AND DESPERATION. IT'S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY!"

A low snarl from me reminds him that I'm in no mood for his fabulous side.

"BUT TO ANSWER YOUR RATHER INTERESTING QUERY...NO. IT'S NOT TRUE."

A small sensation of relief begins to hit me as he opens a compartment under his screen and pulls out a small advertisement poster.

"I FIGURED THIS IDEA WOULD WORK MAINLY BECAUSE..."

He lightly touches my face.

"YOU'RE SWEETER THAN ANY DESERT~."

With the whole 'about to kill me' and fucked up line of thought thing that happened seconds ago, his little flirt has no effect and I slap his hand away. He's taken by this yet keeps his composer.

"BUT I SEE NOW THAT WAS FOOLISH. USING YOU IN A SIMPLE COOKING SHOW WAS A MASSIVE UNDERESTIMATION. ESPECIALLY TO PROMOTE MY NEWEST PRODUCT."

He crumbs the add and tosses it away.

"BUT AFTER THAT SCENE, I CAN KISS THOSE SALES GOODBYE. IT WAS WORTH A SHOT THOUGH. YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT WORKS WITHOUT TAKING RISKS."

I am so done with all of this it ain't even funny.

"YET THIS WASN'T A TOTAL LOST. I LEARNED YOU HAVE A REAL TALENT."

I eye him cautiously, getting the bleeding to at last stop.

"CLEARLY A COURTROOM DRAMA IS PERFECT FOR YOU!"

I hate my luck.

"I NEED TO MAKE SOME CALLS! GET A SET MADE! OOOOOH! THE SCANDALOUS SCRIPT IDEAS I HAVE!"

"I think you're jumping the gun a bit early on this."

He puts a finger to my lips.

"NOT NOW, DARLING, I'M WORKING."

I gesture to where I assume a camera is that he's nuts.

[RING-RING]

His phone goes off.

"THIS BETTER BE IMPORTANT! I'M ON AIR RIGHT NOW!"

Damn it. I can't hear the caller.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WON'T MOVE?! YOU TELL HER..."

He's cut off.

"W-WHAT?! HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE LEFT? ...JUST YOU?! DAMN IT, BUGERPANTS, SO HELP ME IF THIS IS A PLOY TO GET OUT OF YOUR SHIFT..."

While he's distracted, I use this time to move the chainsaws away and out of sight. No need for them to come back into play.

"WAIT...SAY THAT LAST PART AGAIN. ARE YOU CERTAIN IT'S HIS POST?"

Post? What post? Who's post?

"*HUFF* FINE. RETURN TO YOUR POST. I'LL DEAL WITH THIS MYSELF."

He hangs up and is not too happy.

"*MUMBLE* DAMN SPIDER AND HER STUPID PET, KILLS MY MINIONS AND STILL DENIES MY BUSINESS DEALS!"

"You okay?"

My voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he calms down.

"UM...A CHANGE IN PLANS HAS COME UP. YES! DUE TO SOME SET ISSUES AND TIME CONSTRAINTS, OUR SHOW RUNS ON A STRICT SCHEDULE YOU KNOW, I'M GOING TO PERSONALLY DROP YOU OFF AT THE NEXT LEG OF THE GAUNTLET."

Well, that sounds like a load of bullshit. But my dumb brain has to dumb brain.

"So what you're telling me is we're not even going to finish this segment by making the damn cake?"

He pulls me into an uncomfortable side embrace.

"I KNOW, IT'S HEARTBREAKING. BUT YOU SHOULD'VE MOVED FASTER AT THE START OF ALL THIS."

"I have a fear of heights!"

"NOW WE'LL JUST HAVE TO LIVE WITH NOT KNOWING HOW GOOD THE CAKE COULD'VE BEEN."

"Don't ignore me."

"OR HOW MUCH MORE DELICIOUS IT COULD BE IF EATEN OFF MY BODY."

"The fuck did you say?!"

"BUT COME ON, DARLING, I'M ONLY MESSING WITH YOU AND OUR MALICIOUS VIEWERS. HAVEN'T YOU EVER SEEN A COOKING SHOW BEFORE? I ALREADY BAKED THE CAKE AHEAD OF TIME! SO FORGET IT! BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY OF IT!"

"Is the screaming in my ear necessary?"

"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! RIGHT ABOUT NOW IS WHEN WE HAVE OUR COMMERCIAL BREAK! SO STAY TUNED TO THAT SCREEN AND CONTINUE WATCHING AS OUR DEAR DARLING DARES TO DART FORTH INTO DANGER ONCE MORE!"

"Can you at least tell me I don't have to do any more vent platforming?"

"SORRY, BUT I'D BE LYING IF I DID."

I start trying to swear but I end up roaring out in meek frustration.

"SEE YOU ALL AGAIN REAL SOON."

A few seconds go by and he lets me go.

"OKAY, WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME..."

He moves to the sink and opens the cabinets under it.

"WE HAD A DEAL. DESPITE THAT LITTLE SHOW YOU PUT ON, I AM IF ANYTHING A MONSTER OF MY WORD."

He tosses me a bag with his face on it. Taking the hint, I open it and find my missing gear. Though...no phone. I take this small victory without a fight. I'm fairly certain I know who has it anyway. That cat is so getting skinned. I equip my items and CHECK my stats.

[ HP: 40 ATK: 45 DEF: 27]

"Someday, I swear my defense will be decent, damn it!"

"ALL SET?"

I may look ridiculous with all this all but it's not like I was a supermodel before.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"UM..."

"What?"

"I WANT TO APOLOGIZE."

I scoff.

"Forget it."

"NO. I...WHAT I DID WAS STUPID. I SKIMMED OVER THINGS AND WASN'T EXPECTING HOW YOU'D REACT. A GOOD SHOWMAN IS MORE PREPARED AND KNOWS HIS CAST BETTER. FOR THAT...I'M SORRY"

No matter the mood I might be in, I know how hard it is to swallow one's pride and admit a wrong. I just wish he wasn't such a flip-flopper because this personality switching is making it difficult to trust him fully.

"*sigh* ...I forgive you. But don't ever pull that kind of crap again. Got it? I like you monsters. I like being here. I don't want to feel bad for my kind and see THIS punishment as justified."

He nods, or what I take as the equivalent to one for a guy without a neck. With that now all said and done he once again snatches me into his arms and he blasts off like a rocket. Where to? No damn clue.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

"Well, that was disappointing. Freaky, but disappointing."

Undyne collects another bowel to enjoy.

"Not his best move. That's for sure. All that controversial fuss."

Alphys had cut the feed but was still viewing the robot and human.

"Yeah. He didn't even use those chainsaws. Such a wasted opportunity."

"Still, the way she interpreted all that from a simple can of spice...And that reaction..."

Theories were coming to Alphys.

"Definitely something to remember for future use."

Undyne takes a long slurp of ramen.

"It's a freak, Alphys. Plain and simple."

Alphys's companion's lack of imagination made her sneer.

"At least he's prolonging her activity. That provides data. And that's all that matters."

Undyne rolls her eye.

"Still...I wonder what that phone call was about?"

Alphys, being the one that sees all, knows the answer to that question. She just finds it more interesting to see if her hot fish friend can figure it out for herself. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

They weren't sure what they just watched. Such a strange buildup and quickly smothered show. Sure this wasn't over but no one honestly thought that second showing was going to be over in about twelve minutes. Still...The lingering questions remained when the commercials played.

"This is nerve-wracking."

"I know. But at least there's some good news. He's moving her further. She'll be done faster."

"I suppose that is true."

"OR SHE'LL BE KILLED QUICKER."

Toriel and Grillby glare at Papyrus.

"WHAT? I'M BEING REALISTIC BY SAYING THE OPTION YOU'RE IGNORING."

The glares and fire strengthen.

Papyrus takes the hint and walks away. Maybe Sans had some sort of idea and won't want to beat the shit out of him as the others do.

"you need to work on your people skills, bro."

He growls but that's it.

"i got an idea as to what happened near the end."

"REALLY?"

"yeah. i think someone tipped him off about my post there."

"YOU SURE?"

"got no other clue as to why he'd move her himself and not let her walk."

"HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK HE'LL HAVE HER SKIP?"

"who's to say? i only know what i can see from my post. and it ain't much."

"WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY POSTS?"

"do ya know anybody else that can teleport?"

"...GOOD POINT."

"you sound underwhelmed."

"I DON'T KNOW...I JUST DON'T SEE IT. YOU WORKING THAT MUCH? IT'S WEIRD."

"if it makes it less weird, i sell hot dogs at those stations."

"THAT...THAT MAKES MORE SENSE."

The television flickers suddenly. The commercials end and the human is back onscreen. Her exact location is odd in that there doesn't seem to be a path to leave on. There's a signpost they can't read and random cacti. Among the positives, she is sporting her equipables again and thus have her stats boosted. On the negative side...she isn't there alone for very long.

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #mettaton #napstablook #chara #frisk #flowey #Asriel #asgore #toriel #undyne #alphys

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