#use wired connections all the time instead of it being in the front room

[paladincecil]

Sometimes, I forget how stupid fast my internet is these days until I need to download something big on my laptop and switch to a wired connection.

10 minutes to download 50gb of monster hunter fun \o/

[syrupfog]

Penguin’s been hit by some sort of devil fruit user. 

He’s not sure who it was— there was chaos during the height of the fighting, and with five crews involved, he’s just lucky his own group wears matching outfits. 

But he’s been hit by a devil fruit and now he’s TINY and LOST.

He’s about tontatta size, from what he’s heard about them from Law. But he’s clearly not got their incredible strength or speed. Instead, after being hit and transforming, he found himself veritably flung through the air in the chaos and landing on a ship. 

But not HIS ship.

It takes a moment to recognize it, but Penguin connects the dots when he sees the gargantuan skull outfitted across the front. This is the ship of the Kid pirates, and he’s managed to find himself smack in the middle of the deck. 

Shit.

Perhaps the worst part is that the kid pirates are JUST BOARDING as he tries to scurry toward the gangplank, and like. They were enormous to him when he was a NORMAL size. Now he’s one bank note tall and Wire could squish him under one heeled boot.

And sure, they used to have an alliance and the feelings of camaraderie from that might not be totally dead but but they’re certainly not STILL on the same side and Penguin very much doesn’t want to try his luck getting any of their attention.

So between trying to stay out of sight and out of boot stomping range AND realising that the only exit he can find is impassable for someone of his size, he ends up instead accidentally veering into the belly of the ship. 

Hahahaha shit.

The Victoria Punk is lavishly decorated in comparison to the Polar Tang’s surgically clean interior, full of hanging tapestries and drapes and gaudy bright colours. 

Penguin just needs somewhere to hide to think out his next move, so he ducks through the first open doorway.

It’s a bedroom and it’s a mess. Patterned clothing litters the floor, a dresser with each drawer pulled out, and a HUGD bed swaying from the ceiling. It smells like the small window has never been opened, but that could be because Penguin is at eye level with all the laundry.

The laundry that he lunges under as the door is suddenly thrown fully open. 

So much for time to think. 

It’s to his horror that he watches the man slam the door behind him and throw himself onto the bed before TAKING OFF HIS MASK. 

Fuck. Shit. This is Killer’s room.

And Penguin has now seen his face. 

Fucking shit fuck. Killer is going to, well, kill him. He’s a dead man walking. 

And the worst part of it all is that, although Killer's now laying on his back and Penguin can only see his legs hanging over the side, Killer’s face is HOT.

That’s just. That’s not fair. 

Penguin takes a deep (quiet) breath to collect himself. He’s buried under a polka dot shirt, peeking out from between two buttons. Looking around, there’s a crack beneath the door that he could wiggle through, but it wouldn’t be inconspicuous.

He probably couldn’t scale the wall high enough to reach the window and he doesn’t know if it opens. 

His best bet MIGHT be to just wait however long until Killer leaves again, but there’s no telling how long that will be and Penguin doesn’t want to risk the boat leaving.

Fuck. What does he do if the BOAT LEAVES? 

Nope. No catastrophising. Penguin re-centres. Maybe there’s mouse holes somewhere around the base of the room? 

Peeking out from the shirt, he scans carefully around the room. The only possible spot is directly under the dresser, which—

A chill goes up Penguin’s spine and he swallows as he becomes keenly aware of a pair of eyes trained on him. 

He looks up up up and makes eye contact with. Killer. 

Once again, he does have to take a moment to appreciate that Killer’s face seems to be chiseled by a god. Not fair.

The look Killer is giving Penguin is one of mild intrigue. He’s sitting up on the bed, and Penguin curses the fact that he’s probably got some sort of haki that gave him away. 

Killer leans forward and Penguin feels like a mouse being stalked by a cat.

“Hey,” says Killer. The massacre solder. The massacre solder is talking to him. 

“Uh,” says Penguin. “You’re hallucinating.” 

Killer blinks at him and for a moment Penguin thinks he might believe him, but then, quick as shit, Killer lunges forward, reaching out—

And wrapping one (large) hand around both the shirt and Penguin, as Penguin squeaks like the mouse he apparently is. 

“Pretty real for a hallucination,” Killer says, and for one terrifying moment Penguin thinks he’s going to be crushed in his grip when it tightens around him.

What a way to go. 

But then Killer is disentangling him from the shirt he’s in and picking him up by the scruff of his boiler suit to dangle him mere inches in front of Killer’s face. 

Killer frowns. “I know you,” he says. 

“Nope!” says Penguin.

“You’re that Heart Pirate,” says Killer. 

“…lucky guess from the outfit,” Penguin says. 

“…Penguin,” Killer says after a moment’s pause. 

“Well that’s not fair, it’s on my hat,” grouses Penguin, crossing his arms. 

Then he uncrosses them. “Please don’t kill me,” he says.

Penguin has gone through too much in life to consider himself above begging. 

Killer blinks at him. “Why would I do that?” 

Penguin squints. “Because I’ve seen you without your mask?” 

Killer blinks again. Then he stifles a snort. “I don’t care about that shit.”

“You… don’t?”

 Killer lightly shakes him and Penguin shrieks a little. 

“Nah, all of Wano has seen my face. I wear it because I don’t want to lose an eye in close range fights. I’m not sacrificing depth perception.” 

Huh. 

“Well good because you’re beautiful,” Penguin says.

Then he slaps his hand over his face. How many times has Law complained about his lack of filter? 

Killer, when Penguin looks at him again, looks… delicately amused. “Bold words from someone six inches tall,” he says. 

“Not my fault,” Penguin says. “Devil fruit in the fight.”

Killer nods. He considers. He swings Penguin up and suddenly Penguin is sailing through the air and landing on his shoulder. He digs his nails into the blue fabric in desperation as he starts to slide. 

Killer doesn’t seem to mind, though. He stands up, pats Penguin on the head like he’s a pet of some sort, and leaves the room. 

Riding on Killer’s shoulder the world goes by VERY fast. 

Killer goes deeper into the ship, opening a door at the very end of a hallway to find Kid. The fucking captain. Oh man.

“Hey Kid,” Killer says. “We set off yet?” 

“Yeah dumbass,” Kid says. “Can’t you feel it?” Then he narrows his eyes. “You got a rat on your shoulder?” 

Penguin is insulted. If anything he’s a mouse. 

“This is my little guy,” Killer says. He pats Penguin again.

Penguin is just now taking in what Kid said. “Wait you already LEFT?” he shouts. 

“Your rat TALKS!” Yells Kid. 

“You need to wear your glasses,” says Killer. “Also, can you den den the Hearts and tell them we have one of theirs?” 

“Fuck no, I’m not talking to that bastard again.”

Killer gives him a flat look. “Den den or I’m not cooking you more cabbage pie.” 

“I’m the captain, you can’t order me around.” 

They begin a stare-off that Penguin is beginning to think is a normal part of their routine. 

“…Fucker. Fine,” Kid says. “I’ll tell them we’re dropping that CREATURE off at the next port.” 

“That we’ll wait for them on the next island, yes,” Killer says as he leaves the room. 

Well. That’s a relief. Probably. Penguin once again feels like he’s sailing through the air as Killer heads back down the hallway.

He very quickly finds himself as a sort of. Mascot to the Kid pirates. For a week, everyone eyes him like a pet, tries to feed him scraps of food, and do the “two finger pet” down his back as Killer has suggested. 

He stays, for the most part, attached to Killer’s shoulder.

A week in, he wakes up in the middle of the night feeling VERY nauseated. 

Then, he realises that he is VERY big. Or, average big, really. And he’s laying directly on top of Killer. He doesn’t have enough time to freak out, though, because Killer blinks himself awake.

He looks down at Penguin, sprawled on his chest, and throws an arm over him. 

“Hey little guy,” he says. Then he squeezes him once and goes back to sleep. 

Penguin does too. 

It’s nice.

[legacyoftheogres]

15. The Looming City

[set a year after Tethered when Izura and Thalanthe first meet]              

  Thalanthe wrinkled her nose, the city of Xiobolad was filled with the smell of grease, smoke, and sewage. She felt like an ant amidst the tower buildings that blocked the sky, a metal forest connected with vines of wire that felt deeply unnatural.  Despite having lived in Xianen for nearly half a century, Thalanthe’s trips to Xiobolad had been few and far between. The city’s growth had been explosive, each visit it was unrecognizable; a labyrinth of skyscrapers, with only the Ironstalk towering above to act as an accursed landmark. She was glad that most of her work had taken her to Durong, Zhoulote, Yamuir and Tamashq instead.

                Scrutinizing the map she had been given, Thalanthe made her way deeper into the city, winding her way towards its heart where she was to meet up with an old friend. Zizgodos belonged to no clan but had long been contracted by the Centipede and others for his expertise. Though he spent much of his time in Durong, Zizgodos was a nomad of sorts, moving from city to city as work summoned him. Often, their work was aligned. Few in the region knew more about artifacts, their curses, and their history than Zizgodos. Something particularly nasty had surfaced in Xiobolad, though their informant had refused to reveal if it had been found in the sea or deep beneath the city. Thalanthe and Zizgodos had been summoned to identify and seal away the artifact, and then take it back to Kuotay for safe keeping.

                Thalanthe finally arrived at a small workshop, jammed between taller buildings and ramshackle. Opening the door, her eyes adjusted from the dim mire of the city to oppressively bright light. The scent of sage, earth, metal, smoke and incense filled her nose. Globules of light danced through the wisps, scattering reflections off of the scales of the dray who sat hunched over a worktable. A rich copper in color, many of the scales now held traces of patina showing their age. It was impossible to tell if Zizgodos was looking at her as she entered, his jeweled eyes looked like emeralds behind his glasses. Had it not been for the slow methodical movements he made with his tools, and the smoke wafting from his nostrils, he might have been mistaken for a statue.        

Thalanthe set down her bag and sat across from him at the table. Zizgodos acknowledged her with a low grumble. She waited patiently, eyeing the artifact. Wrought of black metal, it was a delicate crown. At its front, it swept down into a wicked beak, topped with eyes of glittering jet. Feathers jutted off of it, wrapping behind it to form the band. It radiated malice and seemed to greedily gobble up the light around it, somehow still cast in slight shadow despite the illuminated room. At last, Zizgodos lowered his tools and leaned back on his stool, sighing deeply in a cloud of smoke.

“It is a good thing they summoned us.” His voice was like stones being rubbed together, slow and deliberate. “I was unable to get much from the lad who brought it to me, he was a shivering mess. It was clear he wanted to get it out of his hands as quickly as possible. I am glad that at the least he was too shaken to consider taking it to the black market.”

“Then we still have no information on where it was found?” Thalanthe asked.

“No. I only know that it is old and bears some similarity to some artifacts they have pulled from the Needle.”

Thalanthe frowned. The Needle was the source of many mysteries, and though it was many miles away in Durong, she still felt like its shadow hung over her. Elysium’s relics and history could hold the secrets to the Phage, but they also held the stains of the failures of her race. The Void Templar artifacts, remnants of Maloc’s deceit, along with so many other accursed secrets had been held there, and they had all been scattered when Elysium had been destroyed at the climax of the Daemonwrack.

“Begin to seal it. I will write of what I have learned as you do, its mere presence pollutes the air in this place.” Zizgodos placed a pair of gloves upon the table and rose to retrieve parchment and ink.

Thalanthe retrieved a wooden box from her bag and placed it beside the crown. She pulled on the stiff and heavy gloves, woven with lead, and carefully picked up the artifact, placing it in the box, and wrapping it in a cloth made of the same material. She placed the lid on the box and removed the gloves. Next, she pulled two small glass jars and a paper talisman from a small pouch. From one jar, she applied a paste on the lid, and secured the talisman to act as a seal. From the other, she carefully extracted a small Yggdrati. The millipede-like creature uncurled itself slowly, sleepy from its long voyage. All three implements had come from the Velvetines, the wood sung from the trees, the paper made from their leaves, and the Yggdrati the offspring of the forest guardians.

“Thank you for this sacrifice, a gift will be made to the Velvetines for what was taken. Take this miasma from the world, as a tree would purify the air.”  Thalanthe whispered to the creature, placing it on the box. Taking the dagger from her belt, she pricked her fingertip to draw a drop of her blood, and let it fall upon the Yggdrati. Then, she began to sing. Zizgodos paused his writing to listen, he was one of the few outsiders that ever heard the song of the wood, and it was an honor he did not take lightly. The Yggdrati began to writhe, until it worked its way into the wood itself, becoming an engraving. From beneath the surface it crawled, leaving a trail of small footprints in its wake, it encircled the box, and once it finished, the wood knit itself together, sealing the box shut, with no evidence that there had ever been an opening. Exhausted, it crawled to the talisman and curled up, the paper and insect burned away. Thalanthe concluded her song.

“It is done.” She dusted the ash from the wood and ran her fingers along the markings the Yggdrati had left behind.

“A moment, the ink is nearly dry.” Zizgodos wrapped the scroll in twine and placed it within a case. He handed it to Thalanthe, and she placed it and the box into her bag.

“Travel safely, the sooner that thing is hidden away, the better.” The elderly dray warned.

“I will depart at first light. If your path takes you through Kuotay, you know you are always welcome to rest at my hearth, teacher.”  Thalanthe said in draconic and bent at the waist to give him a bow of respect.

“Ah, you have kept up your practice, good. It is a pity we do not have time for tea this visit. I will look forward to our next meeting.” He bowed his head and bid her farewell.

Back on the streets of Xiobolad, Thalanthe realized how late it was, as the streets were lit with lanterns now. Her lodging was in a separate ward of the city, and she began her journey there with a quickened step. Winding through alleys, she began to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she doubled her pace. She offered a silent prayer that she was being paranoid, but she felt as if there were eyes upon her. In her haste, she erred, losing her path, and soon found herself at a dead end.

“Lost your way, little bug?” A chuckle echoed through the alley behind her, she spun on her heels and saw three tall, cloaked figures closing in on her. Her hand went to her sword.

“No need for that.” The one in the middle chided. “You merely have something that belongs to us. Hand it over, and there will be no bloodshed.” He pulled back his cloak to reveal a wicked curved scimitar, and emblazoned on his tunic was a crane, black as night. Thalanthe’s eyes widened. Remnants of the House of the Crane, how they had divined the location of this artifact was beyond her. Could there be an informant? She quickly set such thoughts aside. She had to focus. These were no ordinary thugs; she was cornered and outnumbered.  

“I will not give it willingly.” Thalanthe said through gritted teeth and drew her blade.

“A pity. I was hoping to---” His next words were cut off as a dagger flew out of the darkness and embedded itself into his forehead. Thalanthe did not wait to see who had come to her aid, she launched herself toward the nearest Crane, steel sparked as their blades collided. To her right, there was a blur of movement, and a cry.

“Scorpion assassin! Retre--.” The scream was cut short in a gurgle of blood. The commotion was enough to distract her adversary, who for a moment considered whether to heed the warning. Thalanthe seized the opportunity, cutting the woman from hip to shoulder.

Thalanthe’s heart thundered in her chest, as she turned to face the only other figure still standing in the alley, her sword still ready. Clad in a black shozoku emblazoned with a small silver scorpion, the figure removed his hood to reveal pale skin and familiar green eyes. He flicked the blood from his sword with practiced ease and sheathed it. He moved with a haunting grace.

“Hardly a proper thanks, Thalanthe.” Izura’s smooth voice cut through the night. He scowled when she did not lower her blade. “If I wanted you dead, I would have let them save me the trouble. A life for a life, my debt to you is paid.”

A life for a life? Perhaps he was referring to their encounter in the Velvetines. She sheathed her blade and gave him a hard look. This man had been nothing but a thorn in her side since she had found him the Needle. Constantly he had sought her out, and she had spurned him just as doggedly. He had been the shadow she could not escape. Yet, he had saved her.

“Why are you here, Izura?” Thalanthe’s tone was guarded. Had he tailed her all the way from Kuotay?

“A conversation we can have when you are safely at your destination.” He extended a hand, which she ignored and began walking.  Izura chuckled and shook his head, he briefly searched each body but found nothing, and jogged to catch up to her. He pulled on a simple cloak, Thalanthe pulled her own over her weapon.

“Are there more?” Thalanthe asked under her breath and through her teeth, adopting a casual pace to match Izura’s. They blended into the crowd of people traveling home in the early evening.  Izura looped an arm through hers and leaned in to whisper to her.

“Yes, but they will not attack you in the middle of the street, certainly not while you are guarded.” Izura’s breath tickled her ear, and she shivered at his closeness. Her face did not betray her true emotions as she let out a bashful laugh. To any onlooker they would appear a merry couple enjoying a nightly stroll. They spoke no more of the issue as they crossed the city.

At last, they arrived at their destination, a small apartment in one of the residential wards. After climbing the rusted stairwell Thalanthe produced the key she had been given and opened the door. It smelled of dust and years of sitting idle. She pulled the door shut behind them and secured the lock. Izura strode past her and checked each room. Thalanthe removed her cloak and bag and allowed herself to take a few deep breaths. Seemingly satisfied, Izura returned to the foyer.

“I was asked to follow you to Illid Nova. We caught wind that the lingering Cranes were going to make a move on the artifact.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to warn me that they would try to retrieve it?” Thalanthe did not mask her irritation.

“I could not risk the knowledge getting back to the Cranes and lose the edge we had.”

“What are you implying?” She narrowed her eyes at him, venom in her tone.

“For them to know of the artifact, there had to be an informant. Something you realized as soon as they cornered you.” He gave her a knowing smile; his casual manner was infuriating.

“And you thought it might be me.” Thalanthe laughed harshly. “Is the trust between our clans truly worth so little?”

“Now I know beyond a doubt that you are loyal to your clan. You were willing to die to carry out your mission. Once that had been established, I could freely come to your aid.” He took a step into her space, and suddenly Thalanthe felt small. It had been so easy for him to dispatch her pursuers. When had he grown so fearsome? 

“It is odd to hear you ask of trust, Thalanthe.” His words were ice, there was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “When have you extended me such an honor, hm? You treat me as if I am a snake and shoo me away at the soonest opportunity.” He tilted his head. Something about his intensity made it feel like there was less air in the room.   

“Why do you pursue me so? What am I to you?” Thalanthe breathed. Her voice lacked the confidence she wished it had, but she finally spoke aloud the question she had been wondering for all these months. The question seemed to amuse Izura.

“A question for my question, so be it.” He laughed darkly. “I do not dream as our people do; I do not remember my past, nor do I have any connection to my ancestors. When I woke in the Needle I saw your eyes, golden in the dark, and I knew you. I did not know my own name, but I recognized you.” Izura took another step closer to her, she tried to step back but bumped into the wall behind her. He was impossibly close.

“We have never met. I do not know you. You must have been delusional. You were half dead when we found you. You are still delusional.” She should push him away, but she was frozen in place. What he was saying was wrong, and yet, it scratched at the surface of something she had been running from all this time. She had seen him in her trances many times since that day, small flashes of memories that were unlike any vision she had even had before. They were confusing and terrifying, the images she had seen the night before she found him in the Velvetines haunted her. Izura had a magnetism to him that she could not explain, and so she had run from him.

“Am I though? Do you truly not feel it, this tie between us?” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. He looked into her eyes, searching, his face an inch from hers.

“There is nothing.” She whispered, her words betraying her, she wasn't able to make them sound convincing.

“Liar.”  He leaned in and brushed the ghost of a kiss upon her lips, his lips barely against hers, and it was not nothing. She was stunned, before she could think to slap him, he had already withdrawn.

“I will keep watch tonight, tomorrow we leave for Kuotay. Lock the door behind me.” And with that, he left. Thalanthe did not catch his expression as he turned the key and vanished into the night.  

[blog-moved-lol]

Glamrock Freddy & Glamrock Bonnie Angst Short Story

(From the POV of Freddy; Cringe; Probably bad grammar and spelling mistakes; I suck at writing :'])

The squeaking of Gregory's sneakers fades down the stairway as he ventures off to find the Monty's Mystery Mix for whatever reason his Fazwatch happened to give, leaving me alone by the run down stage. "This attraction is temporarily closed" the sign reads, though I know "temporarily" in all actuality means "forever". When I first received the news that Bonnie had disappeared, and that he was officially being removed from the band in favor of Monty, I didn't know what to feel. As much as Monty is one of my best friends, and as much as he's a wonderful bass player, I had always had a very special relationship with Bonnie. The two of us spent countless hours together, playing up on stage, practicing, preparing for shows, attending birthday parties.. We were the closest of the band, other then maybe Roxy and Chica. When we were informed we'd no longer be seeing him, I felt as if I had been hit with a controlled shock. But then, Monty had his upgrades, the show went on, there were concerts to run and kids to entertain, so I feel as though I never got to indulge in the grief and pain the whole experience brought with it. The customers had to come first. Now, standing in front of Bonnie's old home where there once hung a poster of me that read "Love forever -Freddy" I feel the repressed emotions that I was never allowed to feel coming back to me after all of this time away from the bowling alley. Suddenly, I feel a deep shudder rise up my endoskeleton, starting at my feet, moving past my leg warmers, continuing all the way through my chestplate to the rim of my hat until my tail and ears are quivering uncontrollably. My memory chip feels as though it's going to overheat behind my faceplates as many memories of Bonnie come to the surface. A sob begins to bubble up from within my casing, but I press a hand over my mouth to suppress it as I swallow thickly to wash away the sound. I'm feeling shaky and unsteady, something I would normally attribute to an error in need of fixing at Parts and Service, but something I now attribute to deep feelings of pain and regret. I check my connection to Gregory's Fazwatch and find that he is still off looking for the mix, giving me some time to myself. I have to be here waiting for him when he returns, so I gently sit myself down on the edge of the dusty wooden stage, my hand sliding away from my mouth and coming to rest in my lap. Small streaks of oil drip down from my eyes and cloud my vision, leaving tainted trails on my face as soft cries emanate from my throat. I sigh quietly, gentle whimpers echoing through the empty room and shaking me to my very core of metal and wires, my ears and tail drooped down against my body for support. I wish things could be easier. I wish I could talk about him without fear of offending Monty. I wish Roxy and Chica cared as much as I did. I wish Gregory was safe, instead of fearing for his life. I wish I knew how to help the others break out of whatever is causing them to act so aggressively tonight. I wish I was a good leader. I wish Bonnie was here..

[designstudioasa]

Mistakes To Avoid When Designing Your New Space | Studio AsA

Nothing is more satisfying than designing your own home to reflect your choices and personality. When it comes to decorating, the thrill of personalising a space—whether it’s your office, living room, or complete house—can sometimes wear off. Interior design decisions are a significant undertaking. Making choices that leave lasting impressions of beauty and comfort is crucial.

Here are some useful tips that tell you what not to do to prevent trial-and-error errors that waste your time, energy, and money.

Improper Lighting

The home could appear dark and claustrophobic if only a few light fixtures are hanging from the ceiling. Any lighting source’s functionality is its most important quality. To create a well-lit area, add many levels of lighting at various heights, such as table lamps, pendant lights on the ceiling, accent lights, floor lamps, and under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen.

Cluttered Areas

A well-organised area with plenty of hidden storage is essential because cluttered houses feel chaotic and stressful. Every storage item is assured to be concealed from view by closed cabinets. Regularly purge your home of clutter and discard everything you no longer need. Use concealed wiring as well, and install cord covers or wire managers that match the color of the walls.

Color Color Color

Being monochromatic is beneficial, but don’t limit yourself to neutral shades. Understand where and how to use the appropriate colors. Your room gets a boost from the colors. It does not require you to paint the entire space in a variety of bright hues. To liven the space, you can just paint a section of the wall a different color. Avoiding colors is not advised.

Wrong Rug

Your room’s décor depends on your rug. A poorly chosen rug will not only make your home appear smaller and disorganised, but it is also a fashion faux pas. Simple design ideas can help your carpets thrive in any setting. Make sure the size is correct. It means that all pieces of living room furniture that rest on them should have rugs underneath the front part of them.

Visual And Physical Obstacles

Interior design “obstacles” can be both a visual annoyance and a physical obstruction. The general rule is that entering a room should be seamless. If you apply this suggestion to the rest of the house, your largest living room furniture should face the door. All entrances, including those connecting rooms, should be unobstructed by physical obstacles.

Hanging Art

Art can be influential and stunning. Sadly, this is also the reason why errors are often obvious. One common mistake made by interior designers is selecting the incorrect size. Don’t let size frighten you! Experiment with placement and proportion until you find a balanced composition to display multiple items. Keep in mind that eye level generally appears to be the most natural.

Room Measurements

This idea is crucially important. It’s pretty elementary, but many people take it for granted since it’s so simple. Every step is on the verge of being disastrous if the room measurements for every corner and crevice are not specified and highlighted in the plan. Many people only use their vision to buy furnishings or other items. Even so, accurate measurement is required.

Organising Accessories

Still, keeping the porcelain items from grandma that you despise? It’s time to let loose and decorate the house with something you truly adore. If you have too many antiques in your room, it will look old. If you have too many antiques, your area will look dated. Instead, use the accessories to create little clusters. These should then be placed on ring trays in groupings of odd numbers.

A Lot Of Furnishings

A furniture overabundance is another factor that might hinder excellent interior design. There needs to be some breathing room; you can’t stuff every nook and cranny. Even a large space might be crammed and never appear spacious. Traffic flow shouldn’t be impeded by furniture. Even though the furniture is necessary, having too much would ruin the decor.

Outdated Decor Or Accessories

Do you enjoy staying up with the latest fashions? When creating your home, put your love of trends aside and embrace your individuality. Far as fashions fade over time if you only decorate your home with the most current style, it will appear dated once the model is no longer fashionable. You will therefore need to replace your accessories more regularly.

No Clear Plan Or Budget

It occurs when, without a layout plan, you fall in love with a sofa at a shop and decide it would look stunning there. Poor preparation before designing is equivalent to arriving at an unfamiliar location without a map. However, getting there will take a lot of wasted time and bad turns. You may avoid overpaying and running out of money by using a proper budget.

The Bottom Line

Errors are inevitable, but you must stop making them once you realise the harm they can cause. Create your dream home while keeping in mind the principles of interior design. A well-decorated and thoughtfully planned home depends on a number of important variables, including color, light, size, and arrangement.

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[mionemymind]

Chapter 9: The Truth

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: The after effects of the attack on New York have changed everything for the Avengers, Wanda, and Y/n. 

A/n: I have managed to write this all within one day. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes but please let me know your thoughts love :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Fighting, Hydra, Blood, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Curse Words

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

Covered in ash, dirt, and dried-up blood, Steve was a walking disaster as he paced through the hospital waiting room. Well, if you would call it a hospital that is. It’s been less than an hour since the Avengers have controlled the fires in New York but the troubling news of Y/n and Wanda brought them to a halt.

They quickly rushed to the “hospital”, which was just an empty leased building before being revamped into a hospital for this emergency. The walls were made up of light green curtains. You couldn’t even separate the blood-curling screams from down the hall to the one next to you.

“Stop pacing Rogers. You’re making my head hurt,” Tony said as he sat next to his suit. He had managed to borrow one of the hospital’s tablets to see if there were any updates that could remotely be done to the tower. So far, no luck had been made to reboot F.R.I.D.A.Y or power up the building in general. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he bit back.

Before Tony could say anything, Natasha lightly elbowed him in the stomach to keep him hushed. Now was not the time to start fighting especially at a time like this. “Are you any closer to powering up the tower?” She asked. If Natasha was nervous, she sure as hell didn’t show it. While the assassin did have a similar beat-up look like Steve, her composure was almost too relaxed. However, if Steve cared to notice, he could quickly see how big of a lie that was but his mind was only focused on the two youngest Avengers.

On the other side of the building lied Wanda and Y/n. The only thing separating those two was the thin green curtain and the team of tired nurses and doctors that surrounded them. And while the two have been closer before, this was the first time in a while that they both slept peacefully by each other. It didn’t matter the circumstances of how they slept, but rather what they dreamt...and it was of each other.

“What do you think we would have been like if we lived normal lives?” It was a late afternoon on a sunny day in spring. Wanda and Y/n laid down in the grass under a tree that shadowed them from the sun. Today was one of their off days and seeing as the weather was nice, the two felt like it was a perfect time to go to the park.

“Well, we would obviously attend school.” Wanda was lying down on her back with a dandelion in her hand as Y/n laid on her side, using her left hand to support her head. “I can honestly see you as being the popular person or maybe even the President of some type of political club.”

“What makes you say that?” The soft breeze that covered them came once again, which blew the pappis away. The small frown on Wanda’s faced made it hard for Y/n to focus but she still responded, “You just have this powerful aura to you, Wanda. When you talk, people listen. But what you do better is how easy it is for us to believe you. That’s something not a lot of leaders can do.”

“You make it sound like I’ll be the next President of the United States,” Wanda replied jokingly. “I wish.” Wanda pushed Y/n back slightly as she laughed but all Y/n did was smile at the action. “But what about me? What do you think I would be like?”

Putting her finger to her chin, Wanda thought for a moment before saying, “Honestly, without your powers, you are probably a film nerd at heart. Maybe just a nerd in general.”

“Hey! Now you’re just being mean.” Wanda rolled her eyes as she threw away the dandelion stem. She turned her head to face Y/n. There was this adoration in her eyes that quickly made Y/n blush. “Who cares. All I know is if anyone decides to mess with you, they’ll obviously have to go through me.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me the President of the political science club is going to come to my rescue?”

“Duh! I’ll probably yell at them or something. If not, I’m not afraid to get nasty.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“How’d you let them get away?” Fury said as he walked into the hospital that Y/n was at. The man was not in his finest hour. First, the mass destruction of New York city was blasting on the news. Reporters and anchors are not looking in favor for the heroes regardless of the actions they’ve taken to try and minimize the damage. Many were angry at the mere fact that this happened at all.

“Someone on their team had quickly teleported them to safety,” Carol stated. The girl has been feeling nothing but guilt for the past hour. Although she did save Wanda and Y/n, the state she had found them in only did worse for her thoughts. “Even if I did try to catch up to them, the lack of response from Wanda and Y/n meant something. I probably couldn’t have faced them alone if I tried.”

Before Fury could have walked any further into the building, Carol grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to look at her. “Her ears were bleeding Nick...I think they did something to her head again.”

Wanda woke up with a slight headache, the dream vaguely on her mind. As she started to grasp her surroundings, she only grew more confused. “Where am I?” She thought. The loud beeping beside her combined with screams and loud thoughts overwhelmed Wanda. Feeling the need to get out, she quickly started to remove the various wires on her as the recent events caught up to her. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lay back down,” the nurse asked kindly.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wanda almost lost her balance as she stepped off her bed. She used the nurse in front of her to regain her balance, before walking out of her “room”. “Ma’am, I’m not going to ask again, please lay back down or I will have to get security.”

The threat was the last thing on Wanda’s mind. All she could focus on was finding Y/n. Using her powers, she closed her eyes and tried to sense where Y/n was. Considering the girl was right beside her, it didn’t take long for Wanda to find out.

Quickly walking over to the side of her room, Wanda pushed the curtain to the side but the sight in front of her made everything stop. There was Y/n, battered and bruised. There was drywall dust on her face along with dried-up blood. “Y/n,” Wanda whispered in disbelief. Much to Wanda’s dismay, Y/n didn’t respond. She remained unresponsive on the bed.

Reaching out to try and hold her hand, Wanda was pulled back by the same nurse. “Ma’am, please let the doctors and nurses do their jobs while you go back to your bed.” Wanda shrugged off her hand, her eyes glowing red as she said, “Don’t.”

Wanting to be by Y/n’s side, Wanda tried to walk towards her again but Steve’s voice made her stop. “Wanda.” Turning back around, Wanda first noticed just how beat up Steve was. His helmet was off which made Steve oddly look like a raccoon. If times were different, maybe Wanda would have laughed. Instead, she stormed out of the room, feeling more overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry about her ma’am,” Steve said with a courteous nod.

Wanda sat on the ledge of the roof. The slight breeze of the night was coursing past her as she mindlessly fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit she developed after her parents’ death. It was during a harsher breeze that Wanda touched her forehead where the slight open injury was at. She had left the floor just moments ago and somehow her feet led her here. Although she knew that she needed someone to look at the injuries she sustained, her mind was focused elsewhere. It was plagued with thoughts about the girl that was still entrapped in a room full of doctors that had no clue how to treat her. Wanda knew it was wrong of her to read their minds, but she hoped that at least one of them at least knew where to start. Panic and anxiety filled the redhead’s body the more she realized that no one knew how to help Y/n. Soon, the room felt as if it was enclosing on her. Before Steve realized she was about to break down, she left to sort out her thoughts and emotions.

Wanda had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed Carol leaning against the entrance of the roof. The blonde was only a couple of feet away from Wanda wearing black sweatpants and a shirt. The girl was wrapping up a mission when she saw the text from Y/n. Carol didn’t know whether the drop in her heart was from the fake feelings Memory Man had created or whether she genuinely cared about the girl’s wellbeing. It didn’t matter though. What mattered was Y/n’s safety.

Carol leaned up against the ledge while surveying the view. They were a foot away from each other but it didn’t take a mind reader to know that both girls were thinking about Y/n. Ironically enough, they each had their separate thoughts about how they failed to protect Y/n. For Wanda, she felt as if she was the sole reason that Y/n got hurt. If she had only conquered her abilities more, Y/n wouldn’t have had to sacrifice herself again just to protect her. Not only that, but Wanda felt beyond frustrated with herself for being so frozen and paralyzed as the enemy hurt Y/n right in front of her eyes. There was nothing holding her back besides herself and that was something that will haunt her for a while. For Carol, she felt that if she were just a bit faster and maybe not a galaxy away, she would have reached them in time to help.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Wanda sidely glanced at Carol. The first thing she noticed was her attire. It didn’t take long for the dots to connect before she realized that it was Y/n’s clothes Carol was wearing. Wanda bit her tongue at the ounce of jealousy and resentment that decided to rise within her. This was no time to start arguments especially with the person that helped Y/n just in the nick of time. So Wanda had opted for a different but just as difficult route. “Thank you.”

Carol heard but decided to remain silent. Clearing her throat, Wanda continued, “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t found us.” Finally, the two made eye contact as Carol glanced at Wanda. “I’m only here for Y/n,” Carol deadpanned. Wanda choked at her words but still had a serious composure. They both looked back at the city but there was a more tense feeling in the air. Carol hadn’t cared if the words had hurt Wanda. What she cared for was Y/n. But the looming question in the back of her head was always if this was a genuine feeling or if it was forced. However, the way her heart overwhelmingly felt angered at the person beside her, she knew that at this time, the feeling was genuine.

Subconsciously, Wanda felt the emotions that leaked out of the blonde. She didn't need to go in her mind to realize that. It felt like Carol’s guard was down leading her aura to be seen. It had covered the area surrounding the two in such a suffocating manner that Wanda felt like she couldn’t breathe. The two most compelling emotions were the anger she held for her and the love she had for Y/n. As she cracked her knuckles, Carol muttered, “It is quite ridiculous the things Y/n continuously goes through for a team that can barely return the favor.”

“You don’t get to-”

“Now listen here. I don’t quite care much for your team. Frankly, y’all don’t deserve Y/n.” The two faced each other with such intensity that one wrong move could cause a fight with two of the galaxy’s most powerful superheroes. “But if I’m being honest, you don’t deserve Y/n.” Wanda’s fists clenched at Carol’s words. It took everything out of the redhead to not fling Carol out of New York, because how dare she accuse her of such atrocities.

“If I were you, I would stop where you’re at,” Wanda said threateningly. The spiral scarlet glow in her eyes only made Carol chuckle. “You know you’re not the only one with powers.” Carol’s fist glowed with the same intensity as Wanda’s eyes. But the threats were pointless as the two had stopped at the same time.

“You don’t see it but you should feel lucky Wanda.” Cocking her eyebrow, Wanda responded with, “And why is that?” The redhead remained in a defensive stance as she crossed her arms. Carol walked closer to her and placed her hand on Wanda’s shoulder. Wanda was still tense but it slightly faltered when she saw how serious Carol was. “There’s a girl out there that loves you even when her mind and heart tell her otherwise.” And with that, Carol left Wanda to herself.

The burning feeling in his legs shouldn’t have felt familiar but it did. It reminded him of the body that he held through New York’s streets. It reminded him of the blood all over his hands and clothes. It reminded him of that fateful night that he failed.

And as he stormed into the hospital with nobody in his hands, something in the way that the team looked made his blood drain. Before Bucky could ask about Y/n’s whereabouts, Beth had walked in. Seeing her familiar face caused Bucky to be slightly relaxed but still anxious about what she could possibly say.

“I have an update on Y/n’s health.” Carol had walked into the room and her attention immediately landed on Beth. “Tell us, Beth,” Fury said.

“As of right now, she will be fine. The doctors have her hooked up to a solution that is allowing her regeneration abilities to work. But-,” before Beth could finish her update, Tony had stood up and loudly commented, “- Great, now that we know Ms. Hydra is okay, can we get back to the real issue at hand?”

As Carol was about to advance to Tony, it was Beth’s words that made the room quiet. “Of course it would be the self-righteous billionaire that would talk shit.” Tony’s head snapped towards Beth. “Excuse me?!”

Beth glared back at Tony, not daring to back down. Her arms were crossed as she continued, “Don’t act like you can’t hear me, or is your ego too far high for you to actually listen?”

Walking towards Beth, Tony said, “Listen here you son of a-” Before Tony could get any closer to Beth, Bucky had used his arm to stop him. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” Tony forcefully removed Bucky’s hand from his chest. He stepped away from Beth, not wanting to deal with what he thinks of as just some pathetic nurse.

“You know what the real issue is Tony - actually - all of you. It’s the fact that you seriously think of Y/n to be this villain.” Beth had let out a dark chuckle at the irony of the situation. “Or have you forgotten the shit you’ve ALL done? Let’s name them, shall we?”

“Beth-” Beth glared at Bucky. She didn’t care if this wasn’t the time nor the place for this conversation, because God was she so tired of them. “Tony, remember all the weapons that you’ve created for mass destruction and have yet to actually own up to the consequences of them?”

“I would stop there if I were you before-”

“Before what?!” Beth said as she threw her hands up. “Before you sue me?! Before you attack me?! Oh - that’s it, isn’t it? What are you gonna do? Kill me? Like how you did with Y/n?!” The room grew more silent as everyone besides Bucky and Beth digested her words. “It’s honestly sad how a bunch of adults has managed to push a KID to take their life away. All for what?! Because you thought she cheated on Wanda! News fucking flash - she didn’t even fucking cheat.”

“What?” Steve said. The shock of Beth’s words was still affecting him. “It was Memory Man. He had put fake memories in Y/n’s and mine’s heads. That was the whole reason we kissed - wait - did you not know about this?” The team was frozen while Carol and Fury impatiently waited for answers.

Not caring to wait for their pathetic excuses, Beth said, “It’s not like it matters what they have to say. They don’t even care for Y/n but for those that actually do. Right now we have no clue what her mind is going to be like. Memory Man has already given her enough damages before and considering we don’t know the full extent of his powers, we can only wait till she wakes up to see if she will actually be okay. Now if you don’t mind, I have a patient to take care of.”

Before Beth could leave, Bucky grabbed onto her arm. He gave her a look but Beth wasn’t having any of it. Ripping her arm from his grip, she stated, “Don’t Bucky. You know how much your family has hurt her. So don’t just stand there and act like they’re saints especially since you know how much Y/n needed you.”

It’s been a couple of days since the attack in New York and Y/n has since woken up. She has barely spoken to Beth, Bucky, Carol, or Fury. Although Estell’s presence would have been welcomed, Beth has yet to tell the girl the news of Estell’s death. Unfortunately, during the attack, she was shot and killed on sight by Hydra. The only reason Beth knew was from the long list of deaths she read on TV.

“We need to transport Y/n to a different location,” Fury said in a small meeting that consisted of only Bucky and Carol. “I agree. Since Hydra has managed to infiltrate the tower once, who knows when they’ll do it again.”

“That’s why a different country will do her better than here.” Fury sighed at the decision that was laid upon them. New locations will always be hard to adjust to but that wasn’t all of it. “Wanda will remain as Y/n’s guard.”

Abruptly standing from her chair, the loud screeched filled the room. “Are you serious?!” Fury’s expression didn’t change as Carol only grew with rage. “She could hardly take care of herself during the attack. What makes you think she could possibly take care of Y/n?”

“The girl was simply outnumbered. We all were.” Moving to get the file that was beside him, he slid it on the table. Bucky grabbed it and had started to silently read it. “But I need the both of you on the front lines. After what Beth has said, I need you two to make sure that the team is actually doing their job. They were supposed to have found out about Hydra’s plans before the attack, now I’m starting to think they didn’t even try.”

Carol was still angry at Fury’s decision to which he sighed. “You will know of Y/n’s location at all times. I will let her have a remote that when activated should send you a signal. Since you’re back on Earth, you’ll get to her in seconds.” Carol sat back down in her seat. Although she was still mad at Fury’s decision, she felt better knowing that Y/n could signal her for help.

“Now, I need you to say your goodbyes for now. Y/n leaves in an hour.”

Wanda stood in the foyer of the hanger as various agents loaded up the quinjet with materials that she and Y/n would need for the time they were gone. She was informed of the last-minute decision just moments ago by Fury himself.

“Please take care of her.”

The words echoed in her head as it had been the only time she’s seen Fury actually care deeply for somebody else. Before she could ponder more about it, Beth had interrupted Wanda’s thoughts. “Wanda?”

Turning around to the source of the sound, Wanda stood in front of a young blonde woman with intense eyes. “I’m Beth,” she said as she held out her hand. Wanda reluctantly shook it, not quite sure as to who this lady actually was. “I’m Y/n’s friend.”

“Great, another pretty girl I have to worry about,” Wanda thought. “Well, I’m also her nurse but I think she would consider me her friend as well.” Wanda stood awkwardly not really knowing how to respond.

Using this opportunity, Beth handed Wanda a bag full of medicine and vitamins. “I know this will be a lot to ask of you but could you please take care of Y/n?” There was no doubt in Wanda’s mind that this girl in front of her meant well. The nurturing feeling in her aura surrounded Wanda.

“That girl has been through a lot and I would know.” Confused by the intensity of her words, Wanda couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know this?”

“I’ve been her nurse for a while now.” This news only confused Wanda even more. “Was she injured before the attack?”

“What is it with you guys and not knowing a single thing about Y/n?” Beth thought. She started to get irritated at the thought of another Avenger hurting Y/n. She could only hope Wanda was different from the rest. However, Wanda heard Beth’s thoughts and said, “What do you know that I don’t?”

Beth scoffed at the question and replied, “The truth.” The simplicity of her answer made Wanda internally roll her eyes. Whether she admitted it or not, she had started to feel territorial over the fact somebody else knew Y/n better than her.

“Wanda let’s go!” Fury yelled from afar. The two looked over and saw Y/n hug Carol, Fury, and Bucky goodbye. Oddly enough, she looked emotionless when she did it. “Just please don’t fuck up again.” Wanda didn’t answer respond back to Beth because if she did, something bitchy would have probably left her mouth. Instead, she walked over and into the quinjet. She buckled into the seat closest to Y/n but the girl didn’t give any attention to Wanda. She remained silent and focused on her hands for the whole ride while Wanda thought more and more about what Beth meant.

“Now that we’re all here let’s get started.” Fury turned on the projector and the first image the was on the screen was New York on fire during the attack. “So far, we’ve received word that there have been 125 casualties and approximately around 500 critical injuries suffered from the attack.” Click.

“However, we face a bigger number when it comes to those that are currently missing. Estimating from 600 - 1000 people are found to be missing. And since we have efficiently cleared the rumble from the damages, our sources have found out how they’ve gone missing.” Click.

Footage of the event was playing but in the location of the subways. One by one, explosions could be seen in various parts of different train passages. It didn’t take long for Hydra soldiers to infiltrate the train systems but all camera footage cut to black. “Hydra has effectively taken hostages of those that were on the train during that night. They have used bombs to blast any chance of us going after them in these tunnels.”

“Is there a way to locate the subways?” Steve asked. “Since New York hardly invests in their transportation department, they are unable to track any of their subways. More than likely, Hydra has already disposed of them in case they were to be tracked.” Click.

“What we need is to figure out where these people have gone. This many hostages taken is something we cannot allow. And considering we have hardly been able to figure out their plans before the attack, I can only assume the worse when it comes to this.” Fury turned the projector off and continued his speech.

“Bucky and Carol will be removed from their current missions to assist the team with this situation. There will be absolutely no complaints about this. Any signs of lack of cooperation, I will gladly remove you and ban you from missions indefinitely.” Fury looked around the team once more and felt disgusted at the people he has to work with. Giving them no time to reply, he left the room not being able to stand the sight of them anymore.

Since they were dismissed, part of the team left in a hurry until it was down to three people. Tony was about to leave when Steve said, “Are you going to apologize to Y/n?” The question was genuine and serious because ever since that night, Steve had been unable to sleep. All he wished he could do was apologize to Y/n but the girl refused to see him. Unfortunately, he understood why.

“Why should I? It doesn’t change anything.” Steve stood up and slammed the table with his hand. “We killed her Tony.” Tony walked in front of Steve. “I didn’t do anything,” he sneered.

“Steve. Tony. We need to calm down,” Natasha said as she watched the two go at it. “Don’t act so mighty Natasha. I heard you bullied the girl too.” This comment caused Natasha’s jaw to harden. “Aww, did I hit a nerve?” Tony childishly asked. “Oh fuck off Tony. There you go again bringing other people down when you can hardly accept what you’ve done. YOU took away Y/n’s funds. She couldn’t even afford anything.”

“But you watched me do it, Rogers. You could have done something too yet you let it happen. So don’t patronize me. Nothing of what she said changes anything.” Tony quickly left the room as he felt himself explode in anger. This didn’t even surprise Steve anymore. He was tired of keeping the family together when it was clear now that it was meant to be apart.

“Here we are,” Wanda said as she dropped her bags in the living room. Looking at her surroundings, the flat was a decent size. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and accommodations on the floor below them.

“So what do you-,” Y/n hadn’t responded to Wanda’s question as she zoomed past her and walked into her room. Softly closing the door shut, Wanda sighed at her reaction. It wasn’t a surprise but Wanda still couldn’t help but feel hurt by it all. “I guess I should start unpacking.”

It’s been a couple of weeks since Y/n and Wanda started to live together in the flat located in the small town of Edinburgh. While Wanda mainly kept the place tidy, Y/n remained in her room all the time unless it was to use the bathroom or to eat. The only time she would even dare to be close to Wanda was during dinner. If it was breakfast or lunch, Y/n would take what Wanda cooked for the day into her room.

But Wanda was stubborn. She always left Y/n little notes of her whereabouts anytime she left for an errand but a small compliment would always be at the end of it. Sometimes she would knock on Y/n’s door and ask if she would want to watch a movie with her. Obviously, Y/n never answered but Wanda continued to ask. Other times, Wanda would think of Y/n’s favorite foods and would cook them for dinner that night. And while Y/n had never said it out loud, the empty plate she left in front of her always made Wanda swell with joy.

However, tonight was going to be different. Usually, the two would sit in silence as Wanda would have the tv playing in the background but Wanda needed to hear Y/n’s voice. Not only that, but she was hoping that the truth would come out as well.

Trying to figure out a way to break the silence, it was oddly Y/n that had done it first. “Why don’t you hate me?” At first, Wanda was shocked that Y/n had actually spoken, but the girl regain her composure and said, “Why would I hate you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Y/n was silent for a moment until she said, “But I killed your brother.”

Chapter 10

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[charzard-lord]

You’re The Mystery I Need To Solve (Doctor/Reader) Part Seven

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Drama, LOTS OF VERY HEAVY ANGST, language, blood, kidnapping, needles, it’s a bit horror-esqe in some parts, be warned

Key: 🎭💣😋❤☂️

Pairings: Eleventh Doctor/Reader

Summary: You've had several dreams about a madman with a box and when you finally meet him in real life, you realize that something is very wrong. For some reason, the TARDIS doesn't react well around you. In fact, it seems to completely stop working and turns into a regular police box. The Doctor is terrified yet fascinated, and completely determined to solve this mystery.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven (you are here) - Part Eight

A/N: I literally just finished writing this like 5 minutes ago lol I’m posting before I go to work. Also be warned that this chapter is VERY ANGSTY and there is some blood and needles mentioned (and used). Basically reader is sedated with a big bad needle several times. I won’t say anything else, as to not spoil this chapter, just giving you a heads up. Enjoy! 

You sit on one of the steps leading up to the console as the Doctor puts a strange looking device on your head. His face is scrunched up in concentration as he connects wires, and you find yourself studying his features. The curve of his jaw. The crease in his nonexistent brows. The shape of his lips. 

“There, all done,��� he says, and you jump slightly, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you’re broken out of your trance. He either doesn’t notice or decides not to comment as he connects the remaining wires to the console. The device hums and beeps for a few moments before a loud noise rings out and smoke starts to pour from the center of the TARDIS. 

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” the Doctor shouts and runs toward it, frantically pressing buttons and smacking the console. 

“What happened?” you ask, moving to stand. You take the device off of your head and walk over to the Doctor. 

He isn’t paying much attention to you, though. Instead, he’s staring at the screen in concentration and concern. You look over his shoulder, trying to see what he’s so focused on, but it all just looks like nonsense to you. 

Without warning, the TARDIS jolts, sending you flying across the room. Luckily, you’re able to grab hold of a railing to steady yourself. You’re about to ask what the hell that was all about, when the TARDIS starts to shake violently. You hold on for dear life as the Doctor starts shouting,

“We’re being pulled into another ship's orbit! I can’t stop it!” 

Panic starts to build in your stomach. You have a feeling that whoever is pulling the TARDIS has anything but good intentions. 

After a while, the TARDIS finally stops shaking, and you feel her land on something with a loud ‘THUNK’. You, Amy, and the Doctor look at each other in disbelief before the Doctor slowly makes his way to the doors. You and Amy follow. 

He comes to a stop in front of the doors and cautiously opens them, poking his head out and looking around for a moment. He glances back at the two of you and tells you to stay put, then disappears to explore the new environment. You share a look with Amy before both of you break out in a smile, throwing open the doors to follow the Doctor. 

You immediately regret your decision. 

The Doctor is on his knees, surrounded by a group of armed aliens, all their weapons pointed at him. He stammers out some excuses, trying to buy himself time, when he notices your presence. His eyes widen in fear before you’re grabbed from behind. You yelp in surprise, but a hand covers your mouth as you're dragged away. 

You hear the Doctor and Amy call out your name as you struggle in your captor's hold. It’s fruitless, you soon realize, as you feel a sharp pinch in your neck. The world fades away and you succumb to the darkness. 

***

Cold metal is the first thing you feel. 

Your eyes flutter open as you slowly try to adjust to your surroundings. You look around to see aliens bustling about the room, some of them conversing, while others check monitors and connect wires to the table you’re on. 

You try to move, but quickly realize your wrists and ankles are strapped down. Dread flows through your veins as the reality of your situation starts to set in. 

“What’s going on?” your voice comes out raspy and distant as you fight the urge to cry. 

At first, you are ignored completely. Frustration quickly overpowers your fear and you begin to struggle against the restraints. Angry tears spill over your cheeks as you desperately wrestle with the cuffs in an attempt to break free. The aliens seem to take notice of you now. 

Several of them approach you, one of them holding a large syringe. They hold you down to prevent you from moving while another angles your neck just right. The alien with the syringe comes closer and positions it by your throat. 

“No, please,” you beg, trying and failing to move away. You are unable to stop your terrified sobs. 

Just as the alien is about to insert the syringe, an alarm starts to blare loudly in the room. You release a relieved whimper as the aliens move away from you and start running out of the room. A few of them stay behind, presumably to keep watch over you. 

After a few moments, you gather the courage to speak up again. 

“I demand you to tell me what’s going on,” your voice comes out shakier than you would’ve hoped, but at least you got your message across. 

“We seem to be having issues with our other prisoners,” one of them responds and a flicker of hope builds in your chest. 

“Okay. And- and what about me? What are you planning to do with me?” you shift uncomfortably, afraid of the answer. 

“We are prepping for the surgery,” your heart drops to your stomach. 

“Wha-what? What surgery?” 

“To remove your brain and use it as a battery for our ship. Don’t worry. The procedure will be completely painless. You won’t feel a thing,” 

Unadulterated panic rushes through your body and you suddenly feel sick. You have to get out of here. Now. 

You begin to struggle again, pulling so hard at the restraints that you draw blood. But you don’t care. You’ll do anything to escape. 

The alien who explained your situation realizes what you’re doing and rushes to your side. They grab the syringe and shove it into your neck with reckless abandon. You scream in pain and terror, barely registering the feeling of blood pouring from the now open wound as the world fades yet again. 

***

“You have no idea what you’re doing. They aren’t even in control of their own abilities. Please, let them go,” the Doctor tries to reason with the aliens, but they won’t listen. 

“The plan is set in motion. It is too late to stop,” one of the aliens responds as they tighten the cuffs on Amy’s hands. The Doctor struggles against the metal. If he can just reach his sonic screwdriver… 

A terrified howl suddenly echoes through the ship. The Doctor’s blood runs cold, before a boiling hot anger takes its place. That’s your scream. 

“I demand you release them. NOW!” he tries to stand, but the chains are too short. The aliens simply ignore him, causing the fury to rise. 

“Doctor,” Amy’s voice is a warning, but it is also laced with concern. She wants to help you as much as he does, but she doesn’t want the Doctor to do anything stupid. Unfortunately, this man has a huge boner for stupid ideas. 

“Take me instead,” the Doctor says quietly, “whatever you’re planning, I promise, I am a hundred times more valuable to you,” 

“Elaborate,” one of the aliens says simply, turning to focus on him. Good. This is good. He has their attention. 

“I’m a Time Lord. I have a TARDIS, full of limitless energy that would last you eons. Please. Take me and let them go,” 

The alien considers this briefly before turning to converse with several other aliens in the room. The Doctor waits with bated breath, hoping to whatever higher power out there that his plan works. 

After several moments, the aliens turn around to face the Doctor and Amy once more, before moving to uncuff them both. 

“Very well. You will show us how to use this ‘TARDIS’ of yours and we will release your friends, unharmed,” 

“Yes! Of course! Um, right this way,” the Doctor leads them down the corridors of the ship, trying to figure out what to do next. See, he didn’t really plan this far ahead. That’s the trouble with having a boner for stupid ideas. It seems great when you start, but then you realize you’ve dug yourself a hole. A stupid hold. For stupid idiots. 

The Doctor shakes his head and tries to focus. You’re in danger and he needs to save you. No matter the cost. 

Without warning, a gunshot rings out behind the group and one of the aliens falls to the ground. The Doctor whips around, eyes wide, to see a familiar face at the end of the hall. 

“Hello, sweetie,” 

***

You wake to the sound of distant chaos. Voices yelling. Footsteps running. Gunshots echoing. 

As consciousness slowly comes back into focus, you realize that the chaos is not so distant. In fact, it’s happening right outside the room you’re in. 

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut as you register the pounding in your head and the soreness in your neck. Your whole body feels heavy and each limb seems miles away. Sleep threatens to take you again when a familiar voice calls your name. 

You turn your head to see Amy, wincing at the pain movement causes. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here,” she says, working to remove the cuffs around your wrists. 

Her face contorts in worry as she notices the blood, not only on your wrists, but on your ankles and neck as well. In fact, your neck wound is still bleeding. Oh god. What is she supposed to do? 

She tries her best to be gentle, but the cuffs won’t budge, and you’re still bleeding, fading in and out of consciousness. She is grateful when the Doctor finally comes rushing into the room, immediately coming to your side. Panic flashes across his face for a brief moment before anger replaces it. They will pay dearly for what they’ve done to you. 

“You’re gonna be alright, love,” he says, his voice surprisingly tender. You meet his eyes for a split second before sleep overpowers your will to stay awake. The last thing you hear is the sound of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. Then, it is darkness once more. 

***

The Doctor works silently, but Amy can feel his fury. She knows him well enough to understand that silence can be dangerous. He hasn’t said a word since he carried you back to the TARDIS. 

He gently wipes your forehead with a damp washcloth, sighing deeply. He feels at fault. He should have done more to protect you. 

“Mnhh,” you grumble and squeeze your eyes shut, as feeling slowly returns to your body. Sore. That’s the word you’d use to describe how you feel right now. Everything hurts. 

When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the Doctor’s relieved face. He sends a sad smile your way and you reach out to him. He takes your hand in his and squeezes lightly, causing you to smile softly. 

“Hey,” you say simply, and the Doctor chuckles wryly. 

“Hey,” he runs his free hand over your hair, petting your head gently. 

“What happened?” you ask, trying to sit up, only to realize that you’re in way too much pain to move. 

“You were… taken, by some aliens, who planned to use you as a battery for their ship,” he looks to the side, guilt written all over his face, and the memories come rushing back to you. 

You wince as you remember, subconsciously reaching up to touch your neck. There is a thick bandage there and you are grateful for it. The thought of what happened makes you sick. 

You look back at the Doctor to see that he is wallowing in shame. You muster up all the strength you can and sit up a bit, cringing as you do so. The Doctor fusses and tries to get you to lay back down, but you silence him with a firm squeeze to his hand. He meets your gaze and you say with determination:

“It’s not your fault,” 

A thousand emotions flicker across his face before finally settling on sadness. 

“Yes, it is,” he responds quietly. You’re about to insist that it’s not, but he continues speaking. 

“You’re under my protection. I should’ve known better than to enter an unknown ship with something- someone, so valuable on board my own. You’re special and it’s my job to keep you safe,” he reaches out to touch your face, but you quickly pull away. 

“Am I just a project to you?” your question seems to take him by surprise. 

“What? What do you mean?” he seems genuinely confused and your frustration dies down a little. He can be so clueless. 

“I mean, it seems like you only care about me the way you would care about a science project. Like I’m some mystery that needs solving. When you do solve it, what will happen to me? Will you just move on to the next project?” your demeanor remains calm. These are genuine questions. You really just want to know. It’s better to find out now, than to grow attached, only to be tossed aside later. 

“Yes, you’re a mystery, and yes, I want to solve it. But you’re more than just that. You’re… brilliant. And clever. And kind. And an incredible cook,” he sends a teasing smile your way and you can’t help but return the gesture as he continues. 

“You’ve grown to mean so much to me. You-” he stops himself, suddenly seeming unsure of what he’s about to say next. 

“Oh just tell them you love them already,” Amy’s voice causes you to jump in surprise and you look to your left. How long had she been standing there?

Noticing your collective shock, she raises her eyebrows and throws her hands in the air. 

“What? I thought it was obvious,” she takes a bite of the muffin in her hand, and upon seeing that maybe you two need some privacy, she takes her leave. 

You turn to look at the Doctor in confusion and shock, before averting your eyes in embarrassment. Neither of you say anything for a long while, looking around the room, trying to avoid each other’s gaze. 

“She’s right,” the Doctor breaks the silence and you glance up at him. 

“I think I have grown to care for you,” he continues, “in a way that’s more than just friendly. It scares me. You scare me,” he chuckles wryly, still not looking at you. 

You remain silent, trying to process all this new information. After a long moment, you speak. 

“If you only think you care, then do some pondering and come back to me when you’re sure,” 

You lock eyes with the Doctor. He stares at you for a while before slowly nodding his head. Without another word, he gets up and leaves the room. 

You lay your head back down and think hard. You think and think and think until your head starts to pound again. You decide a nap will help, and you can think more about all this when you wake up again. 

You close your eyes and drift off, wanting nothing more than the blissful quiet of sleep.

< Previous Part - Next Part >

[kainscape]

Really enjoyed the Morning fic you made for Bo! If possible, can I please request one just like this for Asa or Jesse? I just could use all the possible fluff right now~ Thank you!!

A/n: I can’t tell if this one is as good as the morning fic because I kinda just had a random idea in the middle of writing it, but I really like writing for Asa so here you go!

Death do you part ~ Asa Emory

Happiness wasn’t in Asas vocabulary or main emotions. It was drained from him at such an incomprehensible age he never mentioned it to himself. No whispers of joy or happy warmth, just exultation or sinister excitement. Asa wasn’t one to ponder or to think about what lies ahead in the future besides his traps and plans of new specimen to find.

Just like how he didn’t think anything of you when you were still asleep in your shared bed he never came too. Of course it was to be expected hence his return being quite early in the morning. He would’ve guessed around 7:30 to 8:00. The university needed to be stayed at, him finalizing the place to sleep at from his exhaustion. It was the best choice not to drive home in his state, and it made it easier to more access of his work.

You must’ve guessed he wouldn’t be returning home again, which seemed to be more common in the latest month. It annoyed you to no ends, but when it came to Asa and his work force, there was almost no convincing him to take a break. So you settled on heading bed early to meet him at dawn.

The professer walked through the front door, his case full of papers to grade and fix filling it whole in his hand. He kicked the door shut behind him, hearing it settle back in place as he laid down his keys on the end table. It was quiet except the air flow of the AC from the vents.

He travelled over to kitchen table, laying down the case on its side as he slid off his jacket. The temperature from inside to outside was perfect, it was cold and gave him freeway to wear layers in his house while it was humid and unforgiven on the outside.

He signed, a hand running down his face as he tried to rub away the tired feeling that buried within him. It was something he would never try to fix, like he could even attempt to do so. He made his way to the stair case, trudging up each step with a small hold on the railing.

Asa walked down the hall with a small click of his shoes. There wasn’t many creaks in the floor besides the two by the guest room and bathroom, so he wasn’t concerned about waking you.

Even if he did make a loud sound, it seemed there would be no one to wake from the empty bed that laid within the room. He kept his weak grip on the door handle, eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room. It was dark besides the slight shine from the curtains, and the door to the bathroom was wide open and collecting darkness. Where the hell were you?

His hand slipped from the metal knob, his steps slow as he fully entered the room. He couldn’t have missed you on the second floor, you could be quiet at times but not that quiet. He analyzed your personal items, taking count to see if there were any gone. You were the only person to ever gain Asas full trust, he thought you realized the great importance of just that as he formed conclusions.

He didn’t even want to move from the room, his mind blank as the scenery before him was bare. Maybe he did miss your presence on the first floor, the realization that he was so tired coming into mind. With first ever hesitance, he headed for the stairs, slowly making his way to the living room and kitchen. It’s like he was almost begging you to be down there, wanting you to be curled up on the couch almost half asleep or in the kitchen one your phone at the table.

But you weren’t. Still reaching for that unacceptable feeling that you left him, he traveled to the bathrooms, the pantry, the closet. He ripped open the doors, unhinged more than he’s ever felt. He was desperate to see you, even if it was in the fucking basement. His breath picked up the pace, somewhere in between fast walking down the hallways.

He returned to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. He was sure that you were here, you were just hiding from him. He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. He pushed down the nagging feeling pulling at his heart, instead focusing on the primal feeling of hunting you down.

He’d rather not feel hurt like this compared to other emotions. The light from the window above the sink showered him, his eyes traveling with the few dust particles in the air. That was until he was forced to focus on the figure in his backyard. He walked up the counter, his hips leaning against it as he squinted his eyes to see closer.

It was you, sticking your hand through a metal wire fence to pet a dog. You were on your knees, resting back on your heels as you smiled. The clothes you must’ve slept in last night were still on, gathering water on the fabrics knees. He couldn’t stop staring, his hands resting on the edge.

You could say it was relief, but he didn’t care as he exited through the back porch door he never used. The sound of the door shutting closed caught your attention as you looked over your shoulder. Asa headed toward you with determination, you calmly petting the dog once more as you rise to your feet.

It was tension that stretched between you two, his hand cradling the back of your head as he observed you. You raised your eyebrows with a smile, happy for him to be this close at such early mornings. You had been sitting on the back porch, taking in the scenery of his beautiful back yard before a simple dog showed up, practically begging you to pet him.

You most likely didn’t hear the car pull up, the modern vehicle quiet. But, here Asa was. Quiet besides the quickened breaths and intensely loud stare. Your hands tested the water, running up his forearm and bicep while the other reached around his waist. It was quite odd, no words spoken from him, actions far from the collector in this moment.

You weren’t complaing, finally deciding to pull him closer. He obliged, pushing you into his chest as he looked across to the dog that resided in the same place. He could almost say he was pissed at this dog for taking away his companion like that. But he insisted on holding you, his chin gently resting on your head.

He couldn’t say what possessed him to hold you in such a random place at an early morning of the day, but he liked it. You hadn’t left him, you didn’t break that trust he never let free. Instead you were simply out of sight, subconsciously hiding from him like he had told himself.

You guys had returned inside the house, you explaining why you were out there as he sat at the kitchen table, cracking open his case to destroy his chance of sleep once more. He would usually travel to his work room, not to be bothered by you or anyone. He wanted to keep you in sight for the time being, wanting his senses to interact with you in anyway.

As he listened to your plans that would probably change throughout the day, he relaxed his face and body, looking up to you. You were rambling as usual, one thing that he grew to seek out when you would converse with him. Maybe it was a smile forming, maybe it was just his lips resting. But either way, he was satisfied for the time being.

Asa hated to admit it, but he actually cared for you, absentmindedly searching for you in simple things. Like how a certain color on an item would remind him of you entirely. It just goes in depth to how.. attached? Connected? He was to your relationship. It made him feel better about himself honestly, the way you loved him unconditionally even after everything you’ve seen him do.

It was the way his first thoughts were to look for you, rather than hunt you down which came later. It showed him how important you were, that you weren’t another common specimen. As he scribbled on the papers, he realized that even if you had left, he would find you. You were his. Thinking that made him, what you could say, happy. It would be like that until death do you part.

[sanghyukstattoos]

SF9: sexual expressions

Genres: multiple au's [warnings: brief mentions of death, trauma, anxiety]; fluff-fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut [contains mention/description of somnophilia kink (gentler than it's description), semi-public sex, baby-making, oral, mutual masturbation]

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here

Youngbin:

There's something in his expression, that rolls off his tongue when crass bursts of arousal coarse through him, rushing everywhere in such a natural manner, whether he's found something nice or in joy, his breathy moans and gasp-less breaths are something that awaken arousal, specifically yours. At first his moans may be muffled but as he relaxes, he opens up in the comfort an safety of being with you, you whose presence allows him to lower his tense state. To watch you would be his first thought but as your head bobs and you use your hand in a way that makes his back arch and moans fervently spill, he gets distracted, closing his eyes and losing himself in everything that floats around him. At the end, his thighs may quiver but he's already reaching for you, pulling you into his arms. Onto the bed or tent or the sheet that is rumpled in the back of his truck, he slips into you, groaning, sighing an settling into you. He takes his time to start moving, kissing your cheeks as he does. With every rush of arousal, he lightly bites your shoulder, enough for you to feel his teeth but not enough to hurt you. He caresses your backside the most, squeezing the flesh, especially as he releases. But even when you are on all fours, he makes sure to admire your backside, responding to your moans when he softly hits the flesh or uses your waist as a guide along his cock. He'll describe how feels, ''You're so warm'' or something like that, something that wrecks you and also him to pound into you, picking up the pace. When it's the end of a long day and you want to make love, he'll settle with you under the covers and gently rock himself against you, allowing you to vent or just speak to him then, killing two birds with one stone. This is because he knows that both of you will fall asleep immediately. In line with this, there is also something I want to try: Youngbin with somnophilia kink. This won't be as intense as it's description. Two to three hours after the both of you have fallen asleep, he wakes up, with a small desire already in his mind but it's when he sees you that his desires grow and he wakes you, kissing your tired self out of the haziness of falling back asleep. He feels a little guilty yes, but his thoughts are hay-wired at the moment towards you. If you respond to his desires with your vocal agreement, he won't hesitate to slip into your heat, groaning in relief at the way your core swallows every inch of his cock and soon, he'll pound you into the mattress. ''Binnie'', you ask as he slows down to see your sex taking in his cock, he hums, placing his head in between your breasts or on your chest, listening, ''Go faster please.'', which he chuckles and immediately agrees too. When you release and neither of you are ready to fall back asleep, he tugs you towards the window- one of your favourite places to have sex, it was where he took you when you had sex for the first time. Your chest against the glass, he takes you from behind, quietening himself to hear your moans and whimpers and well-demands. Demands which when came from you, he would easily comply too.

Inseong:

His sounds? Beautiful.

I'll try out this idea as well, since you asked about expression during sex: speaking. Perhaps out of excitement, he'll tell you stuff from the top of his head. Sweet words like, ''You're so beautiful'', ''so pretty, my love'', or whisper to you, ''I'm so excited'' always eliciting a a beautiful laugh from you, ''heh, cutie'', you may reply with this nickname which soothes his ears and tickles his sides with excitement. The first couple of time you have sex, he may be serious, furrowing his brows in concentration on how he is feeling. Accordingly, his sounds may alert you to his status, breathy moans are his main type of vocalisation he would let out, maybe when you suck him off or you have sex. He may even struggle on sounds the first couple of time but it's something that he doesn't dwell on too much after speaking to you about it, ''Don't worry, just let out how you feel about it.'' you said and he did exactly that. His type of sex with you is to make every moment last, each significant piece of memory stamped with your intimacy on it. When he eases himself into the comfort of having sex with you, he'll start to tell you jokes, inciting a bright atmosphere between you two. Armed with his jokes, he'll make you laugh and it'll always be something between you two, leading to or being inside jokes, never something from outside your intimate space. He's also the type to make a haven out of you bedroom space, together, you would attach a cover above your bed and leave the lights on, glazing your naked bodies like sleeping in a tent under the stars, except that it is in your bedroom. The space is safe, free to speak each other about anything and everything. During discussions, he would love to hold you, your waist or lean on his elbows and listen to you, about your day and how you are feeling. It's there that you'll make love to one another, setting each other's minds free from the ongoing troubles and/or enjoying your peace. He's got a nickname for you, maybe something from your name that he'll tell you really sweetly when he starts his conversation with you as he enters you. He'll pay attention to your sounds, ''You feel good baby?'' is his question, filled with his innocence behind them. You nod. ''Fuck- I feel so good baby'' is one of them, he'd whimper it out, followed by his stuttering moans, open and filling your ears. He sounds absolutely beautiful. ''Seongie, let me take care of you'', ''You don't have to baby'' he'll say and if you do continue, he'll go on to then lose himself in the pleasure you give, you curiously peeking eyes at his state that once your eyes connect, he doesn't leave your gaze.

Jaeyoon:

Regal Jaeyoon

He's got it out for you in the most playful way possible. He could've met you just yesterday, last week, two months ago or you've been childhood friends, regardless he sees the beauty in you. He's got many sides to him as does everyone, but unlike being around them, he understands that he can freely show them to you for example, his anger which would not be a suitable look on the king-to-be. When he's angry, he paces around in the study room before thinking that he should ask you for your opinion. So he comes to your room in the palace or picks you up outside your house, sitting side by side on the stone sculptures that are topped with granite to make for a seat or just to hang by when looking outside, swinging his legs. His hand on the cool granite and yours are not far from one another, he wishes to hold your hand and to hold you in his arms but he's not sure, he would want you to be okay with it first. But how does he get there? You can bet that he'll chase you around the market, his heart beating extra fast when he catches you. Having just recently figured out his feelings for you, he hesitates to tickle you as he usually does, instead he feels the need, the desire to connect your lips. His lips are soft and warm and he tastes of a fruit he just ate, apple or mango slices and to him, your response is everything. Your hands wander up his coat lapels, reaching his shirt collar and tugging him closer, lovingly. He giggles when you break away and he can't stop the smile that lights his whole expression, looking at you with possibly all the love in in his eyes and he doesn't notice that this occurs whenever he looks at you. ''Jaeyoon...'' you start, chuckling when he's just about to kiss you but then he pulls away to hear what you have to say, nodding to tell you that he's listening. You laugh at his adorable movement, bringing him closer for another kiss, ''I have so many questions'', ''shoot!'' he adorably says but you shake your head instead, wrapping your hands around him and the two of you bring yourselves together, under the bright summer lights and muffled screeching of seagulls arguing over who gets the last bread crumb.

I'm not sure if Jaeyoon's one for semi-public sex or not, I've been quite conflicted in my thoughts about this. He may not be or he may be, especially if he's horny for you, more often that not, in places he shouldn't do. Imagine that you are moving to a new place, your sofa is strapped at the back of the moving truck. He's going to drive you but he's not ready to move the truck all morning. He'd let you know that he's in the mood by having you in his arms and well grabbing your ass, dipping his hand in between your thighs, ''y/n, I want you.'', he'd say, plain and simple. You'd kiss and kiss till he's settle you down on the sofa, the truck parked in between two tall structures on a sun-out, non-traffic studded cobble road. ''Really?'', you shouldn't be surprised as you look at your boyfriend rolling on the condom and entering you, ''Really?'', ''yes'', he says laughing, ''Yes baby, god I love you so much.'', he's overcome with emotions. He loves when you grab his ass during sex, especially when he has you under him, filling you up with his cock till he's released and is looking around, tugging his trousers up. He gives you his hand, leading you into the front seats. For whatever reason, he doesn't let go of your hand, ''So you going to drive or?'', ''I'm not sure that we should leave right now.'', ''We need to be there by noon, it's already oh!- five thirty. We have to leave now.'', ''Okay'' he nods, picking up the pace to your new house. You unload all your stuff into the house and then, it's the cardboard boxes. He's looking around, trying to make this work. At the back his mind, he knows that he's going to help you unpack and maybe even move in with you but for now, he's a little distracted. You can't help but ask, ''Babe'', ''Huh?'', ''What's going on? You are just staring at the boxes'', you say smiling when you spell it out. ''I'm just uh- come here?'', you go over, going to look at something. He sits on one of the boxes and pulls you onto his lap, placing soft kisses along your neck. The ache in his groin stirs and he groans into your neck. The image of you having sex moments ago is still engrained into his head, your sweaty skin and visual expressions, sounds are still on his mind. He gently slips your open shirt over your shoulders and your bra strap along with it, placing a kiss on your breast, hands wandering up and down your waist all the time. ''Don't stress over the move, you've got a lot of time.''. The moment is forever in your mind, fresh or not, it's a significant period of time, the time in between a few moments ago and getting accustomed to your new house. You manage to find a place outside, on the lawn with it's fresh grass, your clothes off and him making love to you. All the energy he had before comes back, as the sounds of hips snapping against yours can be heard as compared to his words, ''You're so beautiful'' and other random mumblings about you. It's too sweet. The scene I imagine now is that you are riding him in your new background, his back on the grass and you circle your hips, steadying yourself on his toned tummy. His moans sound sweet, just like when he whines softly, muffled, stuttering ever so often. When he's close and the snapping of your hips grow quicker, his moans get more breathy and the look on his face is one as a result of his closeness to releasing. The look of his as he releases could best describe the phrase, 'like the crashing of waves on a summer day'.

Dawon | Lee Sanghyuk:

Oh, what a cutie! His part in Fanatic!

I have an inkling that he sounds pretty when he's in his element of safety and comfort around you and especially, with you. Let's take our imaginations somewhere, possibly fun!: With his regal stage outfit, the one of blue and white, imagine that you meet him in Narnia, transported via the painting. The room that was once filled with water from the Sea on High Waters painting leaves you and washes you onto a beach of an island, dry. You are surprised but also pleasantly happy to be back, it's been some time since you've seen your relatives. Forward, there's nothing for miles except for water, happily splashing around in the midst of a summer day where breeze gently blows past your ears. Behind are walls of rock of an impossible feat, at least to climb. Further on top, you have to squint to see, there are the unmistakable green flashes of leaves and trees with sways a result of stronger breeze. On this beach is where you meet Sanghyuk. He's dressed in a way that a royal would, if not, that's how he walks, along with his soldiers. The buttons to his sleeveless blue coat are open and his crew look tired, as if it's been a long journey here. ''Excuse me, who are you?'' he asks customarily, not sensing any danger. His soldiers hang back but not too far. ''I'm...'' but you are lost for words. How do you explain it? Crowned by Aslan? You have no idea who they are. ''Come with me" he says, looking here and there, urgency in his tone. It's funny how he disarms your cautiousness, with his honesty and personality- humour that goes straight to your heart. ''Give me a minute'', he mentions to one of his crew members and with that, he shows you past the railing of the huge boat. It has it's name engraved in white right below you but you can't make out it's name. ''See, after we crash landed- the storms'' he clarifies, ''we've been stuck here''. He smiles even as he says it and then you realise, even in such a terrifying situation, how beautiful his smile is. He's optimistic, it should help with the rest of your journey, you think. And it does. You begin. Just before you make your first stop, you encounter magic in the form of gold, so much gold just scattered all over the valley. A trap. Anybody who came here died. You found skeletons under all of it. ''We need to get out of here'', at that moment, dust swarms your vision in a regulated dance, as if it has had time to practice on all the people that came before. You collectively shudder at the thought but at the end, you live. It is your bravery and ever longing passion to fight for what is right that impresses him. Along the way, you tell him the truth, one secret for the other except that it's not a secret and neither of you have anything to hide. Because it's something to be hidden either. You get to know one another after that, introduced properly after your revelations. You find somewhere inside the forest to rest, on a thin sheet, here to rest for the night. You are anxious. He hovers over you, running his hands up and down your arms. Soothing you, that is the feeling, with him it feels safer, almost as if your anxiety about the previous fight has been sucked away, into the lost abyss of any voice in this forest. His crew members are searching. ''Look at me'', he says, softly, like a command but sincerely, ''Does it work on your crew, when you speak to them like that?'' you tease softly from under him, curiously committing his features to memory. Out of all your adventures, this one was going to be your favourite, you could tell. ''If they knew..'' he trails off sweetly kissing your neck, ''They would never leave me alone.'', he ends with a chuckle. You chuckle at it too. You take in a breath and it occurs to you that as much as you are relaxed, you haven't taken a breath in a while. He eyes you, keenly, wondering if you should be okay with this. Your secrets are out in the open and he has no reason to worry, the last thought along calms him. ''Less talking Hyukie'', you murmur, grappling at his coat lapels. He perks up, it is because of the name. That name, he thinks, uttered

so softly, containing so much love. It is as if you read his mind that you murmur once again, ''Hyukie'', ever so softly now, drawing him upwards and connecting your lips to his. The world is silenced, it's noise drowned out as well your tension, long forgotten now. He loves the nickname. It stirs him up, the way you say it, how you say it, he wants to keep hearing it. Then is the other concern that he will never see you after this, that you will be transported back to the world beyond the painting you came from.

He pushes it away as he reveals your top, exposing the curve of your breast ever so beautifully. And then he makes the brave move of uncovering your breasts, lingering his lips over the supple skin. Your stretch marks or not, your tattoos or not, or not, he kisses the skin, taking your perky bud into his mouth. He makes you gasp, swallowing the bud into his mouth and flickering his tongue around it. It's so arousing. There's a fire in your belly, of all the things he does to you, he cares for you. There's enough room for that. The most poignant is his voice, his groan when he's entering you, holding you and gasping at the unholy loving expression on your face. There are some things about you like your moans as he makes your toes curl and his face when you release for the nth time throughout that would make him release, immediately, on the spot, if he were to ever witness it if the two of you were not under such circumstances. He wants to hold you close to him, to relish in these moments he has with you because he doesn't know when it's going to finish, the expedition or- what the two of you have. So he does exactly that, gasping so prettily when you straddle him, ''You're so pretty you know?'' you can't help but say. Everything about the way he sees you right now, through hooded eyes that struggle to stay open because he wants to see, to commit, your waist that he holds as he guides you up and down on his cock, the way your breasts bounce, your expression and how you can't hold in your moans. From this position, you feel him in deeper, he moves his hands from your waist to holding your own, gently coaxing another release out of you. He takes in everything and moves in tandem with you, like two people on opposite sides of a street, instinctively walking when they see the signal turn green. Visually, he absorbs everything which is why, he couldn't be finished, not now. You lay in his arms, awake at almost six in the morning when the sun is barely peeking out from behind the mountains. You have a conversation about moments before when he awoke to you rustling your trousers on. He has his arms wrapped around you, like he doesn't want you to leave and from you confessing that you like him moments earlier, you suspect that you won't go now. His insatiability comes back when confesses that he likes you to, swathing you in his kisses, making you moan and grab him everywhere as you ask him of all the things he would gladly do for you.

Rowoon | Kim Seokwoo:

Possible au?, I'm in love with au's these days: I suspect that Seokwoo would introduce you to his cabin that is not to far away from civilisation. He could have met you as a new neighbour who recently moved into town and someone you grew close to very quickly or more towards the angel/demon au trope, he rescues you from a little accident which explain why he lives where he lives, there is nobody to bother him but is close enough for him to gather supplies. Truthfully, you could think of anything but the main principle applies: he is someone that you can trust and a person who lives in a balance of ambience and peacefulness whilst having fun. Every resident is excited since winter usually prolongs the days, making it seem as if its been cold for very long which some people enjoy and some people don't. Either way, summer dwindles the ice on the tree leaves, reducing it to puddles but it also brings out the playful sounds of birds and children and adults playing in the parks. If you are the new resident, he makes it a point to show you around, the parks, the offices, the restaurants, places to shop and relax. He also catches feelings for you, much more in a slow burn kind of way than fast falling and right from the start. Little touches or closeness makes him pause a beat and think about what he felt but sometimes he doesn't get that chance of thinking. It just occurs-when he's flustered. Say for example that you touch his hand or stand close to him, the proximity rises pink onto his cheeks, a prominent colour on him. You definitely go on a trip together, maybe a picnic on a day that is not particularly windy. This is different from meeting up outside of work or going on little adventures to the restaurants to try out a new cuisine or the pub or for shopping groceries. It's possible that he may not be shopping for himself but he'll accompany you where you go. All the times you go on a picnic are special to him, especially if you make some food for it, he'll appreciate it gladly but if you don't, he'll make it a point to make something. If you feed him, be assured that at first he may pull back but will like it very much, like the type that you love on second tries and continue loving it. It's then at the picnics that he'll gravitate towards what you like, he's curious in your tastes for example cotton candy or sweets or what games you like to play and your life before you came to this place. At pubs, you know what you like but he's not afraid to try out something new. It may be something that he'll want to share with you. Going to the pub becomes a thing when you want to speak to the other, tell each other about your day and eat and drink but most of all, to see the other person. Grocery shopping is well, the domestic side of him that makes you melt with his recommendations after staying in the place for so long that he knows what's good and what's not. It's only after you acknowledge your feelings for one another that he dwells on his sexual feelings for you, growing them one by one.

His voice is husky and it feels weird for me to describe it in this way but very naturally, it's a part of him. A part that you love. When he sees you from the back and surprises you, his voice makes it never sound like a surprise. Instead it soothes the tense posture you immediately assumed when you felt a figure come from behind you. His hugs are bear hugs, that he showers you with constantly, when he sees you, to hold you when you are upset and even when he is. When he nestles into your neck on a gloomy day, he can feel his stress seep away and bring something better- calm. It only goes to say then that when you make love, he loves to hold you in his arms, thrusting into your core. His moans make your feverish with delight, with a reflection of the icy weather melting into little puddles. It also become something that the two of you do, mutual masturbation, when you make out and as if on cue, you giggle and pull part. You lay on your back and he hovers above you, stroking his cock, small, breathy moans falling from his lips at the wonderous sight in front of him. At first if you are shy, he'll coax you softly with his voice, whispering, ''You can do this'', that little edge that it takes to soothe your mind and give it a go. In his eyes, you are a beauty and to see you fill yourself with your fingers makes him have to hold onto something, like grip the end of the bed or it's sheets tightly. After you release, he may take you to some other part of his cabin, maybe the kitchen to eat something but distracted by your naked body will he rub his cock in between your ass cheeks, putting you onto the counter and taking you from behind. In the way that makes your mouth fall open.

Zuho | Baek Juho:

Frustrated typing at his keyboards fills the room drawing a raise of your eyebrows half way up your forehead at the absolute demolition you hear. He leans back in his chair, sighing, ''You know, when was it?'', ''hm?'' he turns to you. The same chair he uses for producing, you are currently in his studio. ''Jaeyoon said that you couldn't game because you would... destroy the keyboard.'' and you have to laugh at this. He pretends to be unimpressed but a small smile peaks up in automatic response to seeing you smile. After seeing his expression, you laugh even more, his arms are crossed and he's staring at you as if to say, ironic but he won't say it out of a false hope at retaliation. You were pretty good, alright but to him, it was wonders! How could you do such stuff?! Moments later, he quits the game and opens a file, the studio grows peaceful as the keys of the keyboard are tapped in near silence, a huge contrast to the clickety-boom!-clackety of before. You grow bored. Feet shuffle from behind him and onto his lap, distracting him from his hold on his mouse and screen, your figure covers it. He smiles, innocently, very cutely in fact as you play with the material of his jumper, feeling his embrace bring him in-line with your chest which he nuzzles into. He sighs, asking, ''do you want to take a break?'', eliciting a yes! in thought and sound, tugging him to the sofa. The sofa is... comfy. You lay on it, extending your arms. He settles into them, hugging your waist and resting on your tummy. ''Ju?'', you ask, waiting a beat, ''How is it going?'', another way of asking his progress on the song, further leading to when you can listen to it. It's as if he knows your true questions because he says, ''Soon'', voice muffled by his hiding in your tummy. He pulls your top up, staring for a beat with a look that takes your breath away. His eyes... they marvel in deep thought that you think you know what he's about to ask you for your ''talk'' later. Your breath is taken away. You know what he wants to say, it's on the tip of your tongue but you can't voice it. Surely, you want to hear it from him even more. You would marvel even more then. ''Let's have that talk now?'', your breath hitches, pauses in your throat. He's got more reasons to come inside of your now and the thoughts makes your core ache. You squeeze your thighs together out of reflex. You sit up and so does he, his hands rests on your thigh. You can feel the heat from his legs that are so close to yours, suddenly becoming aware of his cologne that invades your senses. He reaches for your hand, eyes wide, looking around before he starts, ''Babe, I-'' but stops short. You hum, realising that it's importance made him pause. You give him an encouraging look, ''Go on, just say it, blurt it out, anything baby'', squeezing his hand in comfort. He sees your eyes, the love they have in them and he just says it, without a pause or hesitation. ''I want to have a baby, with you of course.'', he says and the last part provokes laughter. ''A baby?'', you ask, he nods, ''With me?'', now he sees that you are teasing and pulls back, ''But why? Why with me?''. Your laughter and playful teasing ease the tension he feels. At least you aren't averse to the idea. When you stop laughing, you reach to cusp his cheeks, ''Baby, I'd like that idea.''. Those words are enough for him to lose his mind. He thought that this decision would take time, weeks if not for just one day but his questions have been answered. Just like that, his shock wears off. It takes him less than a second to pull you up and start jumping around, out of pure joy. He sobers up pretty quickly though, must faster than you anticipate, he's pulling his stuff off the table, switching off the lights. ''Home?'' you ask, taking the lead. When you get into the car, you say, ''This is kinda funny, we couldn't possibly be running home for this.'', ''Why not?'', ''There's no expiry, at least not for now. We've got... time.'', ''Yes?'', ''Yes'' you confirm, nodding your head, heading home. ''Also, why are we going home?'' you ask,

''What do you mean?'' he replies, not believing why you have no idea that you're leaving his studio early. ''It feels weird to leave early.'', you want to stop over somewhere. He sees your anxiousness, ''Lets stop over the station and buy something to eat.'', pointing at the turn. When you get out of the car, you can finally breathe, leaving the anxiety accompanied by your decision earlier. He takes your hand, holding your cheek and pulling you closer. He needed to do this. To give you a kiss which he first places very delicately on your cheek and then on the corner of your lips, finally on your lips. The moment is everlasting. He cups both your cheeks, gently, kissing you lovingly as if to say a multitude of unspoken things.

*sigh*, dear anon, I did it again: I strayed off-topic. I should be ashamed but the above writing is gold so I will include the little titbits after this: Ju's voice colours everything he feels, even if it's just a little bit, his hands may twitch or he'll sound a low sound that will alert you of what he's feeling. His best sound is when he gasps, it's not too much neither too little. He throws his head back and his back arches, it takes a small breath for him to resume. The scene I imagine as I write this is him receiving a blowjob. Otherwise, he would love to try out having sex in new places with you. Against the counter? Having you lean against it as his cock fills you up? Slowly, lovingly? He's all for it, whatever or wherever you imagine yourself to be, with him.

Yoo Taeyang:

We'll start from the end: when he releases, his soft pants are capturing, distracting you even a little from your agenda of releasing your juices around his cock. His favourite position to have you ride his cock with your hands clutching his waist, circling your hips on his, he can't control the haziness that cloud his expression. His hands wander a lot though, to your nipples, pinching them but ever so often, he feels like tasting you. Having you in his mouth, to swirl his tongue around and relish in the beauty of how you taste. He brings you down, close to his chest so that he can take your bud in his mouth, ''I neglected this didn't I?'' and at your whines, he nods, chuckling, ''I'm sorry about that...'', trailing off to add extra vibration of pleasure that travel straight south. He's charismatic, without even trying.

Imagine another set of scenarios: Taeyang punishing. It's at a party, in a house containing lots of rooms save for the fact that the party is only on the first floor, you know that it's progress to the upper floors throughout the night. He takes you somewhere remote, messily clashing his lips against yours, tugging at your clothes. You've moved past the need for words. On your knees, you take his cock, bobbing your head and for the god lack of co-ordination, you stumble at first but he's quick to reassure you that you can do whatever for the first couple of times because he'll teach you well. His yelp is disappointingly loud when you playfully run your teeth along his cock and you peer up, to see his heated eyes, out of annoyance. ''On purpose?'' is the question that his expression seeks to answer but to which there is no answer. His moans are concealed when his hands land harshly on your ass, his cock red and hard no doubt. But instead, you pant and so does he, his breathing heavy and he struggles to stop just to fill you up. There's a hint of body worship that peeks out there, running his hands up and down your body, even into the dip in between your legs, coating his fingers in your juices. He loses control for a bit there, turning you around and kissing you with such high energy. His feelings for you- all over the place. In surprise, to contrast his previous energy, he gets down on his knees. He wants to. One leg over his shoulder, he dives in to taste your juices, placing kitten licks everywhere before pumping you with his digits, sucking greedily and only after he's wrecked you with one release or more as seen by your quivering thighs and shaking body but heated for more does he come back on top. If you don't think that you could release one more time, he's completely okay with it, equally loving your mouth on his cock that pushes him over the edge, once again with sheer force.

How about a best friends to lovers au now?: The suspect of loving you in this long-winded game is Taeyang, long-winded as in the past couple of months you've gotten to know one another. He's straightforward, to tell you that he likes you when the chance is there, an electric energy present, just before the two of you are about to kiss. He tells you how he feels about you. From there, your words satiate his nervous composure with relaxation. He kisses you, somewhat compose, majorly giddy from your confessions. He kisses you till your back hits the covers, passionately. Kissing your breasts (or chest), he loves to uncover you, to take his time, rocking his hips against yours in a pace that is just in between making love and fucking, he'll take your hot skin into his mouth, nipping and sucking and then hold your hands above your head, when a release rips through you. His groans beautifully grace your ears when he releases, kissing you once again. He would settle in beside you, giggling about what just occurred with a smile so shiningly bright or go to sleep and then wake up later to explore your attractions to one another, once again.

Hwiyoung | Kim Youngkyun:

Kyun has attitude

I'm sure that it may be not what you asked for but what is this blog without my ramblings??: When you first have sex together, he reaches for you. To touch you, to feel you and to remember every intimate moment he has with you. He'll feel your body, every part of you, your cheeks, chest, waist, tummy, inner thighs, backside and even places where stretch marks and/ or tattoos lie because those are personal to you. He'll show you and perhaps even tell you that your body is beautiful, multiple times. A beautiful session of making love follows. Where every moment is spent in each others arms as he fills you again and again, revelling in the sounds you make, Your cries, moans, whimpers incite him to hold you and continue his love-making.

His sounds vary but the majority are audible: his grunts when he enters you, his moans when he holds the headboard as he fucks into you or his cries that he let's out into the crook of your neck as you ride him. When he receives a blowjob, he doesn't hide his moans but it's not about hiding, he wants you to know. All in all, his sounds are low in tone, very pretty and arousing.

A little story for you, dear anon: It's summer! Unlike the others, this one is comparatively cooler. The breeze blows past your cheeks. You return home to find Youngkyun with an apron tied around his waist, delicately chopping the food and placing them into the utensil. The apron is an adorable sight that crinkles your eyes. For your boyfriend that regularly throws gang signs, it adds to the overall clarity of his cute demeanour. "Babe" you start your greetings but upon seeing you, he immediately throws off his apron and comes towards you, eliciting peels of laughter from you. He picks you up and places kisses all over your cheeks, ''I missed you'', he says, pouting. At your smile, he takes you to the bedroom, placing you on the bed. You wait, smiling, he's changing, ''Right now?'', ''Right now'', he nods, energy on full blast. He straddles you, placing smooth kisses everywhere, ''You are so pretty, you know that?'' he whispers, taking off your top and bottom. "Babe, really, how was your day?" you ask, the both of you laugh at the question as you switch positions, straddling him instead. Filling yourself up with his cock, you hear his little grunt upon entering and a sigh of relief comes from the both of you when he's completely in. The sounds he makes is beautiful in every tone. His hands on your backside guide your hips along his cock and ever so often, he let's out these pretty high-pitched moans, throwing his head back and swallowing all the arousal flooding through his body. You chuckle, moaning in his mouth as you give him a soft kiss. After you release, droplets of sweat can be seen on both of you and pink clouds his face, heated. Panic sets in his features. "What's going on-?" you ask, he doesn't move but points to the door, "the food". "We have to go save it", you say, little, displaced confessionals occurring now. You go to the kitchen and while he assesses for damage, you lean on your elbow, peeking at him in his naked form. It would very hard to argue with him if he was naked, you think. He nods, picking you and placing you on the counter, cuddling you. The moment could last forever. In between your legs, he doesn't bother with anything but laying peacefully in the crook of your neck, "Baby, I love you, I also feel like this was overdue", you chuckle, "of course not peach, I love you too" you say. A beat later, he kisses your neck, not hesitating to take a little bite that draws a laugh from you, ''Kyun!'', ''huh, babe?'' is his honest reply as he continues, till his mouth has reached your core.

Chani:

He grasps the back of your head, gently easing you along his cock. Eagerly, he watches your mouth swallow his cock, his own growing dry at the sight. A slight twitching to be expected, you chuckle at the expression on his face, ''Chani'', you take yourself off his cock, snapping his attention to you. Truthfully, he was so aroused by the sight, he lost himself in it. You chuckle, brushing away strands of hair from his face. ''What is it?'', you ask to which he responds by taking you hands in his and squeezing ever so subtly to let you know that nothing is wrong, ''I was just staring, I'm sorry-'' he goes to apologise but you shake your head, already knowing that he was absorbing the visuals. He is surprised that his mouth works, could he even speak after watching something so heavenly? He's not sure that words could be formed. He leans on one hand, sitting on the bed with you in between his legs, taking him into your mouth once more, eliciting a groan from him, soft to begin with, accompanied by the scrunch of his nose at the feeling of warmth. He looses him hand on the back of your head when he feels like he's about to fall on his back. Your hands slowly trail up his inner thighs, squeezing the flesh along the way, pumping his shaft to kitten lick his tip, a trail of saliva coating your mouth and connecting to his tip. His eyes, although occasionally close out of pure arousal, he makes sure that they are open. By the time he's about to release, a layer of sweat lines his pink-dusted, heated temples. When he's close, his moans grow louder and he pants, making unconfigurable noises. The words that he wants to tell you, how he's feeling, how good you are for him and to him get strangled in his throat, instead coming out as muffled noises and quivering thighs. If you let him release into your mouth, he collapses on his back after as you straddle him. After a few moments, he would be in the mood to eat you out and have sex with you after. If you take him out of your mouth and pump him, he would prefer to release all over your backside, your butt that he'll repeatedly squeeze and even take a bite out off when he eats you out before he fills you up. He's ready to make love with you, surprising you and himself with his energy, pent-up, ''I'm surprised'', ''About what? This?'', ''Yes, very much.'', ''Babe, look at me.'', ''Huh?'', ''After sleeping for half your life, you have accumulated these reserves of energy...'', ''Babe please'' he says, stifling his laughter at your teasing.

For his sounds, he could also be non audible. For whatever it is that the two of you are doing, he could be exploring what he is feeling, especially the first couple of times that he has sex or receives a blowjob or mutually masturbates, a new situation.

How about a detective Chani au?: He's a rough character, particularly because of his past experiences in his job, naming more death than life, he once found it hard to stay afloat all the floating bodies in his nightmares. He's been there and he's not willing to go back, he's struggling and he knows. In this au, you are a random stranger, cross-pairing from a different department to hunt down a very articular group of organised crime. Around you, his control on his behaviour slips, like his physical affection and how much he speaks, he guards himself on a daily basis, stubborn to keep it that way. He fights with you, demeaning you and when he hears your words, they ring in his ears and also bring about a familiar, painful feeling in his chest. Even when he kisses you. He's rough, pushing you on your hands and knees, taking you from behind. Then, unconsciously, he brings you to his chest when he realises that you must be close and praises you, ''You're doing so well''. He also realises that he wants you by his side. You don't pretend to know who he is, despite his true horror stories of dead backlogging teams and ruined missions, unlike the people he works with. Guilt long suppressed clouds his chest, it's a weird feeling, even when the two of you are done and you take him into your arms. He's crying. You give him some space. He looks up when you come back into the room with water and some tissues, ''Here, tell me why you've been such a dick.''.

[starlightgirl242]

Details for the Starcatcher/Alien GF Story

Lore and Ideas for @junothewolf.

The Story Behind it All

Every evening, of every Friday, at exactly 10:15 PM or 11:15 PM, Boyfriend, on planet Earth, heads to bed to dream about flying around in space. Exhausted from one rap battle after another, the blue haired teenage boy walks into his room to plop himself into bed & dozes off until he has enough energy to bounce back for his next interdimensional adventure with beloved partner, Girlfriend.

However, when he opens his eyes, he’s no longer in the warm embrace of the fresh, soft, and smooth sensation of the mattress and sheets of his bed. Instead, he’s now floating around in a tank filled with a nutrient-rich liquid. He noticed that on his face is a mask that’s attached to a ventilator and on his torso are electrodes with wires connecting to a mirror-sized monitor, displaying his body temperature, blood pressure, heartbeat, and breathing rate. 

The artificial intelligence within the unknown area does a full body scan on BF, and as soon as it’s finished, welcomes him back to the Star Catcher, a self-made rocket ship created and used by Boyfriend to fly through space and collect stars, space trinkets, and many other intergalactic valuables. After he emerges from the cryosleep chamber, Boyfriend proceeds to get himself dressed, grabs his metallic oxygen backpack, and puts on his space helmet, (that’s decorated with a golden star sticker, mind you), to begin his interstellar journey.

(In case if you’re confused, Boyfriend is within a rocket ship in outer space due to astral projection. Because of this, there’s a high chance that Girlfriend is in space with AP as well.)

Alien Girlfriend’s P.O.V.

On her home world, Alien GF and her extraterrestrial royal family are hosting the annual Crystal Moon Festival, a special event celebrated in her extraterrestrial culture. 

It celebrates the end of the collection of Moon Crystals, shiny gems from the moons of various planets. The Crystal Moon festival features baking and sharing of space cakes and pastries, a meal with Alien Girlfriend and her royal family, visits from intergalactic friends and relatives, gift giving, a jubilant dance party, and a meteor shower viewing show where interplanetary beings make wishes upon multiple shooting stars and witness the beauty of the marvelous meteors making shiny streaks of light in the evening sky.

At that time, it was during the meteor shower viewing party that Alien GF noticed a glimmering blue star and proceeds to make a wish upon it. She haven’t told anyone at the festival about the special wish that she made, but her biggest desire is to have a sweet & good hearted partner to make beautiful memories with her.

After the meteor shower is over, Alien Girlfriend starts to yawn and uses her teleportation powers to head back home to her extraterrestrial royal palace. She begins to levitate from the living room to her bedroom. The moment she arrived at her room, Alien GF changes into her nightwear and heads to bed, hoping for her wish to come true.

But, unbeknownst to the extraterrestrial princess, the star that she had wished upon isn’t a star at all, but a different object from beyond the stars is going to make her wish a reality.

Space Boyfriend’s P.O.V.

Space BF is flying around through the cosmos, looking for planets to explore. While he kept his eyes on the front window, Space Boyfriend begins to reminisce about his interplanetary adventures with his siblings. To him, those memories will be remembered by Space BF for decades to come. While he’s driving, he spotted a pinkish purple planet from a few miles away. 

Thinking that there will be interstellar treasure on that specific planet, Space Boyfriend packs the essentials, (a water bottle, various snacks and treats, clean clothes [in case of his current clothes got filthy and ripped], hand sanitizer, extra pairs of protective gloves, a sleeping bag, a first aid kit, a camera, a flashlight, and, of course, his space helmet), in his metallic backpack to prepare himself for his upcoming trip. Space BF double checks everything, including the oxygen levels in his metal backpack, to make sure that he haven’t forgotten something. With the essentials packed, Space Boyfriend is ready for his expedition to the particular pinkish purple planet. 

His mind has enough energy for his next space adventure, but the rest of Space BF’s body says otherwise as he starts to yawn. Exhausted and requiring a short nap without any trouble, Space Boyfriend thought that it would be ideal to activate the Star Catcher’s autopilot while dozing off into a safe slumber. 

Unfortunately, due to low energy levels, Space BF didn’t realize that he accidentally activated the gravity engine instead. At first, Space Boyfriend notices the gravity engine’s button being turned on, but he simply brushes it off. So, Space BF lies down on his seat and closes his eyes as he falls asleep.

However, he’s in for a rude awakening, both literally and figuratively, as the alarms from the Star Catcher begin to blare out, causing Space Boyfriend to wake up abruptly and tries to pilot the ship while it’s falling down, hoping to regain control and land safely on a nearby planet. But, the speed of his spaceship has reached the point of no return & Space BF shuts his eyes and winces as he prepares to brace for impact. The Star Catcher enters the atmosphere of the pinkish purple planet and crashed on a patch of land, within a forest of extraterrestrial flower trees, destroying it. For the most part…

Fortunately, Space Boyfriend survives the crash & his items, (his metallic oxygen backpack and his space helmet), remains intact during the impact. But unfortunately, from the crash, Space BF has received 3 broken ribs, a fractured right foot, & several bruises, cuts, and scrapes on his limbs and torso with torn threads to boot. But, that doesn’t stop him from his interplanetary escapades. Space Boyfriend adapts to get a grip on the new alien terrain while searching for a way off-world, (and hopefully, a healer for his injuries).

The Story’s Giant & Tiny Method

During his hunt for otherworldly goodies, Space Boyfriend encounters a foliage of colorful & fascinating berries and fruit. As soon as he takes a bite of some alien fruit, its sweet, tangy taste positively melt onto his tongue. 

Most of them simply have fragrant aromas and pleasant flavors, while others have a special effect on Space BF, (for example, a light cyan ice fruit gives him ice breath and a bunch of luminous yellow berries cause his stomach to glow). But not one of them can heal his wounds. 

After eating a lot of special extraterrestrial fruit and berries, Space Boyfriend noticed a bush with shiny pink crystal-like berries, left untouched by unknown hands. 

Thinking that these pink berries will heal him, Space BF begins picking them one by one until he had 10 of them in his hand. He popped the pink crystal berries into his mouth and starts chewing them, hoping that they will heal him for sure. But instead, Space Boyfriend was suddenly shocked as he began to realize that the alien world around him was beginning to grow. A couple of moments later, after he had settled down, he came to the understanding that, rather than the planet growing around him, the opposite was, in fact, the truth. He had shrunk down to the size of a mouse.

Ideas for the Interior of Alien Girlfriend

Given her extraterrestrial physiology, it would make sense to have her insides grape colored. In her mouth, her tongue can be glittery and she’ll have a glowing, star shaped uvula.

And the special destination will have the same grape colored walls and the liquid within that destination, can heal up any injury, including broken bones and open wounds (in the form of a glowing & sparkling blueish purple liquid inside).

[comfortbucky]

Hey! Can i request a cold, lonely ex-hydra reader × bucky who falls in love with her. Adding some panic attacks and nightmares of the reader.

i love this idea!!! thank u for submitting🥰

𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: avenger!bucky x ex-HYDRA!fem!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers, angst (if u squint), soft!bucky

warnings: canon level violence, description of injuries, blood is mentioned, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i just came up with a random name for the HYDRA leader the reader is after🤣 so just ,,, ignore // also!!!! i tried out a different writing style than what i’m used to! hope u don’t mind🥺 just been feeling like a lot of my writing is the same and wanted to try something new!!!

word count: 3.5k (this is so long LMAO sorry 😭 literally why am i like this)

my masterlist!

completed requests!

The suit that you once considered a second skin, now felt uncomfortable and constricting, like a python squeezing the life out of you. Although, it made sense since the very organization of the uniform you were wearing did exactly that.

HYDRA.

For so long you were just another mindless pawn to them, just doing without every actually thinking. Unlike your younger brother, Alex. They indoctrinated him as well, getting a hold of both of you from a young age, but he was there when Captain America took down S.H.I.E.L.D. and it changed his entire worldview. You found everything he said about “freedom” to be stupid, naive, and dangerous. And you would later prove yourself correct.

You pull yourself from your thoughts as a group of HYDRA soldiers walk past the shrubbery you hid behind. Quickly and quietly, you get up and join them as they march towards the HYDRA base. As soon as you get inside, you manage to slip away from the rest of the group to search for your target.

Since HYDRA took the possibility of you ever having a normal life away, as far as you were concerned, your only purpose in life was to kill the man who was at the center of it all, Viktor Cross. And after months of tracking him down, formulating the perfect plan, that’s exactly what you were going to do today.

You make your way towards one of the main lab facilities, gun in hand when you see several unconscious guards lying on the floor in front of you. Shifting your gaze up, you see that the door has been ripped open, grip marks on the sides.

This was not part of the plan.

As you squeeze through the open door and enter the lab, you come to a halt, frozen in shock. There’s your target, Viktor, shoved against the wall by none other than Captain America himself. You almost let out a chuckle in disbelief at the irony of the situation. Instead, you take a step forward, and the glass cracks beneath your feet, alerting the men of your presence.

Shit.

Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you. Viktor’s lips curve into a smirk as you make your way to them.

“Agent- Miss Y/N,” he corrects himself. “What a pleasant surprise.” You ignore him and look to address Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.

“Let him go and give him to me,” you start, Steve eyeing you cautiously. “So I can kill him,” you snarl, quickly turning to Viktor to see that his smirk had been wiped off his face.

“Aren’t you HYDRA?” He questions, nodding to your suit and eliciting a cackle from Viktor.

“Not anymore,” you mumble, before lifting a leg to kick Steve in his side. You hit him across the face with the end of your gun for good measure. He stumbles over, giving you enough time to grab Viktor’s collar, before he falls to the floor, and slam him back against the wall. His eyes are full of desperation and you felt nothing but pure, burning rage. You shove the barrel of your gun under his chin and place your hand on the trigger.

“You were such a gifted agent, Y/N. Don’t throw away such potential, come back.”

“Go to hell.”

Before you could pull the trigger, a force propels you to the ground and you feel a sharp pain in your side. Silence and then ringing fills your eyes as you squint your eyes to try and visualize the situation. Your vision is blurry, but clear enough to clouds of smoke engulf Viktor’s figure as he escapes. A muffled voice from behind you speaks, but you can’t make out any of the words they’re saying. You look down to see red. Just crimson red, staining your abdomen. Hands land on your shoulders, shaking you gently as your vision fades to black.

Viktor is in front of you, the barrel of his gun directed right at your head. He smirks as he moves his hand to the trigger.

“Hail, HYDRA.”

A gunshot goes off, forcing you to shoot up in bed, gasping for air. As you start to regain your senses, you realize you’re surrounded by a group of strangers. Well, not complete strangers, the Avengers to be exact. Part of your job required you to study their files, learn everything about them. You could recite from memory where and when they were born, their greatest strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly, your side starts to burn with pain, and you carefully lean back in bed. There’s an array of wires and tubes connected to you and you hear the rhythmic beeping of various machines. You’re in a hospital, or some sort of medical facility.

“That, is exactly why I said we should use restraints.”

You’re staring at the ceiling when you hear Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark, speak.

“Tony, she lost a liter of blood, she’s not going anywhere.”

Steve appears in your view, looking down at you.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You shift your gaze away from him. The last thing you expected to come out of this mission was to meet the Avengers, let alone them save you.

Steve sighs, “We’re not gonna hurt you. We wanna find Viktor too.”

There’s nothing he could say that could get you to speak. Your hatred for HYDRA didn’t mean you suddenly liked the Avengers. If anything, they were part of the problem too, so you stay silent.

“Told you, she’s not gonna talk,” Tony quips. From your research, you had come to learn that he was an arrogant man, and his statement only proved you right. “Maybe you should get Manchurian Candidate to come down, give her an ex-HYDRA buddy,” he says sarcastically.

Upon hearing “ex-HYDRA buddy,” you furrow your brows. Maybe it was the lack of blood in your body, but it took you a second to process his words and understand who he was referring to. Your eyes dart back to look at Steve’s but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back.” His voice trails off as he exits the room.

You’re still staring at the ceiling when you hear footsteps return and then several others departing.

There’s only one other person in the room beside you. Without even looking up, you already know who it is. His breathing was slow and steady until you started to shift in bed to reposition yourself. His breath hitched for a moment, before returning back to his normal breathing pattern.

“Killing him isn’t gonna make you feel better.” His comment makes you roll your eyes as you slowly sit up to look at him. There were no logical thoughts in your head, all you could feel was pain and fury. Anger swelled within you, your emotions boiling over.

“That’s rich, coming from the Fist of HYDRA,” you spat out. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your stomach drop. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. What was it? Regret?

Bucky’s face fell but he kept his eyes on you. It was a look that made you feel worse, worse than the searing pain in your side.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” he said in a tone so gentle, you felt another strange, new emotion but couldn’t quite label it. You quickly shift gears to avoid addressing the uncomfortable feelings swirling around in your stomach.

“Are you keeping me hostage to lure Viktor in? Because it's not going to work." Bucky shook his head.

"We want..." he trailed off, causing you to tilt your head in curiosity. “We need your help finding him.” You scoffed.

“What do I get out of it?” Bucky’s silence gave you your answer. Shaking your head, you start to disconnect yourself from the multitude of wires attached to you and get out of bed.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he started, as you threw off your blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Standing up quickly, the blood from your head pooled in your legs, causing you to feel dizzy. Your head spun and your arms reached out for something, anything stable to grab onto. It was a metal hand. Despite it being cool to the touch, it ignited a heat to rise to your cheeks. You look down and mumble a thank you as Bucky helps you back into bed.

Letting out a sigh, you realize with the condition you’re in, you can’t leave. Definitely not well enough to go after Viktor alone. Shutting your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, you curse under your breath.

“Fine,” you finally speak, keeping your eyes closed. Bucky nods, even though you don’t see, and you hear him walk off.

After a couple days of rest, you were cleared by Bruce to get discharged. Viktor had gone deep in hiding, making your job to find him a lot harder. Tony had so graciously given you an extra room in the tower, right next to Bucky’s. He was probably the one person you saw the most, purely due to location, and the fact that everyone else cautiously kept their distance from you. It made sense though, since you rarely spoke to anyone and spent most of your time in the lab looking for any clues of Viktor’s location. When you weren’t searching for him, you were training in the gym. Bucky was there a lot too, both of you waking up at ungodly hours of the morning. No words were ever exchanged between the two of you, and yet, there was some level of comfort you felt being around him. Must’ve been an ex-HYDRA thing.

“What’s on your mind?” You walk over to Alex and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sighs.

“What if,” he starts, furrowing his brows. “What if freedom is good?” He speaks quietly, fearful of HYDRA listening in on your conversation.

It feels like you’ve got the wind knocked out of you.

“Alex,” you grab him by the shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about?” You’re searching his eyes, trying to understand what’s gotten into him.

“Captain America.” The biggest threat to HYDRA’s existence. He looks down at his hands. “He was willing to risk his life for it. It has to be worth something right?” Alex looks back up to you with a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen since you were children. Uncertainty. You sigh and pull him into your chest, stroking his hair.

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Hot tears fall from the corners of your eyes. It’s the same dream you’ve had for the last week. Although, you wouldn’t consider it a dream necessarily, but it wasn’t a nightmare either. Just a bittersweet memory.

Bucky could tell that something was up with you for the past week. Despite having gone through a bit of therapy, Steve’s idea, the nightmares still came to him. So Bucky was already wide awake when he heard your weeping on the other side of the wall. It didn’t help that he was also a light sleeper with super-soldier hearing. He didn’t know what was causing you to be so upset, but he didn’t want to intrude and ask. Neither of you had spoken to the other since you first arrived.

But this night was different from the rest. Usually, you would flip endlessly through channels on ur TV until you eventually fell asleep, but it wasn’t working this time. There’s a tight pain in your chest and suddenly, you’re suffocating. You rip off your covers and spring out of bed, tripping on your blankets along the way. At this point, you don’t even register the pain of slamming down, face-first on the ground. Panic has taken over your body, tears now streaming down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping for relief.

He wasn’t planning on doing anything until he heard a loud thud from your room. Immediately, Bucky gets up and arrives at your door. It’s rude to just barge into someone’s room, his mom taught him that from a young age, so he settles on knocking. You don’t hear it though, the only sound you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing as you hyperventilate. Bucky hears it too and ultimately decides on inviting himself into your room.

“Y/N?”

You’re lying on your side, curled up in a fetal position with your hands covering your face, when Bucky opens the door. He quickly arrives by your side, kneeling beside you, as he examines you for any injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head in response, anxiety still flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, Bucky’s familiar with panic attacks, having had them himself. But he also knows that everyone deals with them a bit differently. Guess he did manage to learn some useful things from therapy.

“Can you try breathing with me?”

He starts to take deep breaths in and out until he sees you start to follow along with him, your hands still covering your face. There’s a part of you that feels stupid for keeping them there, but they help ground you, so you continue to shield your face. After what feels like an hour, but was probably only 10 minutes, your panic subsides. That’s when a wave of embarrassment hits you, realizing that it had been Bucky with you during your panic attack.

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you’re greeted by piercing blue eyes. You blink a couple times, realizing that Bucky had taken a spot on the ground, lying on his side to face you, his hands pressed together under his head like a pillow. He smiles and you feel warm. It’s terrifying, the new feelings that Bucky has caused you to feel and yet, you don’t mind.

“You feelin’ better?” You nod and smile back, something you haven’t genuinely done in a while.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You stare at each other in silence, lying side by side. There’s no physical touch involved but somehow, this moment, it feels intimate. Bucky breaks the silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks in a voice so soft, it almost sounded like a whisper.

It might’ve been the fact that he just calmed you down from a panic attack, but as you looked into his eyes, you felt the walls you had built up for the last year slowly come crashing down.

“He killed my brother,” you reply, maintaining your eyes on Bucky. You searched his eyes for any fear or pity, but all you could find was a look of understanding. His eyes were starting to become a safe place for you.

“Alex was there when Steve took down S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA along with it. He wanted out, out of the organization.” Taking a deep breath, you continue. “Word got around about a “rat,” so I took the blame. Viktor was about to shoot me when Alex’s dumbass ran in front of me, sacrificing himself.” You let out a chuckle, your vision getting blurry as tears swelled in your eyes. “He was a goddamn idiot, but he also had a heart of gold.”

As you start to cry, Bucky hesitatingly extends an arm to hover over your body, trying to gauge your reaction. Physical touch was something he struggled with during the beginning of his recovery, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s reassured when you grab onto his shirt and pull yourself closer to him, and wraps an arm around you, his other hand softly stroking your head.

You hadn’t cried like this since Alex died, bottling up all of your emotions to focus on finding the man responsible for his death. But as you sobbed into Bucky’s chest, you realize that your love for Alex had transformed into an ugly, burning hatred for Viktor. He wouldn’t want this. You didn’t want it, at least, not anymore. The only thing you wanted was your brother back, and that was impossible.

Bucky held you in his arms until you fell asleep, listening to the sounds of your slow, rhythmic breathing, dozing off shortly after.

That night with Bucky had softened your cold, hard exterior that you initially presented yourself with. You would willingly spar with Nat in the training room and join the team for breakfast or dinner. Everyone noticed and, while at first thrown off by it, happily embraced it. Especially Bucky.

Initially, he got up to work out in the early hours of the morning as a habit. Now, he woke up to see you. His heart did flips in his chest every time he walked in the gym and saw you. Since that night, you started to acknowledge his presence, turning to smile and wave as he walked through the doors. It was something he looked forward to every day.

During the day, you were focused hard on tracking down Viktor and Bucky knew that. But he also knew he wanted to spend more time with you. He looked for reasons to enter the lab, whether it was offering snacks to you throughout the day or helping Bruce or, even Tony. Anything to see you again.

Bucky realized that there was a deeper, stronger emotion that he felt for you when he would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. The first thing he thought about was you. Specifically, how you were the only thing that could possibly calm him down. Although he’d come in that night to help you with your panic attack, you ended up helping him as well. He hadn’t slept as soundly and peacefully as he did with you. And you hadn’t either. There were several nights when neither of you could sleep and ended up running into each other. It slowly became a routine that would begin in the kitchen, exchanging life stories, and end on the couch in the common area, entangled in each other’s arms.

Tonight you didn’t show up and Bucky panicked. He stared at the kitchen clock. It had been 20 minutes and you still hadn’t shown up. Bucky racked his brain for anything he could’ve done to scare you off, but came up with nothing. It wasn’t like you two had been officially together, Bucky had no idea what you were to each other. All he knew is that he wanted to be with you, always.

You were soundly asleep in bed, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. It was a particularly physically exhausting day for you, training with both Nat and Steve.

Bucky was so caught up with the thoughts racing through his head, he hadn’t noticed that his feet had taken him right to your door. He stands there for a moment, silently debating what to do. Grumbling under his breath, he musters up the courage to knock on your door. Right as he was about to turn away and shuffle off to his room, your door opens. You greet him with a yawn and a tired smile.

“Oh, hey Bucky.”

He looks at the bags under your eyes and feels instant regret wash over him, realizing that you weren’t avoiding him, but just getting some sleep.

“Sorry,” he looks down at his feet. You frown and place a hand on his cheek to lift his head up.

“Something wrong?” He avoids your gaze, partially because he’s embarrassed and partially because his cheeks were turning red because of your touch.

“No.” You cross your arms and let out a sigh.

“You’re a bad liar.” It’s his turn to sigh, as he scratches the back of his head.

“You didn’t come to the kitchen,” he lets out, in almost a whisper. It hits you. You were so tired, you had completely forgotten about your nightly tradition. “It’s stupid, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up," he mumbles. Bucky begins to walk off but you grab his hand. When he turns to look at you, his brows are raised at your touch.

As you start to speak, you pull him close, facing you. “It’s not stupid.” His hands move to hold your waist as yours move to wrap around his neck. You pause, an idea popping into your head. “I’m kind of tired from training today, wanna just come sleep with me?” He nods and you drag him to your bed, nestling into his arms as he holds you to his chest, his chin resting above your head. You tilt your head back to see him looking down at you. There’s a fluttering feeling in your chest and you smile.

“Just for future reference, you have an open invitation to cuddle with me, anytime.” Bucky chuckles at your offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.”

Bucky cups your face in his hand and you nuzzle your cheek in his palm. His eyes dart down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

Then, the most delicate, sweetest kiss you’ve ever received is on your lips.

You flutter your eyes open as you both pull apart. He quickly kisses your nose before pulling you back into his chest, speaking softly.

“And you have an open invitation to kiss me, anytime.”

[spnsisterimagines]

Mario Kart

Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.

Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Word Count - 1,911 words

"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday. 

She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.

He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.

"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.

Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch. 

"What is it, again?" he asked curiously. 

"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.

After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim. 

"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.

"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."

Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him. 

"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"

"What the hell?" Sam scoffed. 

"What?"

"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"

"Uh, yeah!" 

"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."

The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first. 

"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.

"You got a problem?" Sam asked. 

"No, but...why Luigi?"

"Who cares, I just chose him."

"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own. 

"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"

"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.

Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!" 

He selected Toad. 

"Why him, Jack?" she asked. 

"I like his hat."

Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap. 

"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him. 

"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.

She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads. 

And with that, they were off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"

"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."

Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."

Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map. 

"You got in my way!" Y/N sang. 

It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now. 

Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.

Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.

Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.

"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"

"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened. 

"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.

"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered. 

With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled. 

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"

"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself. 

"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet. 

"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"

"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front. 

By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred. 

"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably. 

"We lost..." Sam mumbled. 

"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.

"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"

"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"

"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.

"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller. 

"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed. 

"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.

"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."

"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.

"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"

With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping. 

There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.

[infernal-fire]

TAU (1/2)

Summary: Steve Rogers traps you inside his mansion. Your only means of escape? The naïve A.I., Bucky, that is designed to kill you if you ever step out of line. 

Pairings: Dark!CEO!Steve x reader, A.I!Bucky x reader, Bucky x reader

This is part of a series of works (not interconnected). I highly suggest you read the description of the series master list to better understand the premise of this story. 

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, mention of sedative, technical Lima syndrome, psychological abuse, violence, blood, character deaths, injuries, mention of depression, suicide & poverty

The chair was on the brink of collapsing, yet Martha folded her arms and leaned back into it anyway. You internally grimaced, waiting for her to fall flat on her ass or give you the bad news. It had to be bad news. You had done this enough times to know that she periodically bounced her right leg only when there was bad news. These days, that was often. 

You huffed once, loud enough for her to hear, hoping to hint that you were hanging by the threads of your patience. She took the hint, finally throwing open the drawer in front of you with excessive force. Pens rolled and a notebook slid towards her amid the force. Again, another piece of furniture that was ready to give in. For someone as stingy as her, you aren’t surprised that it hasn’t been replaced - just wondering why she’s treating it like it won’t disintegrate any second now. 

Martha’s plump fingers slapped a couple of bills onto the table, her seedy eyes challenging you to pluck them from under her hand. You wrestled the bills out of from under her palm and diligently counted them, only to shake your head defeatedly. 

“That’s it?” you snarled.

“Steal better shit next time,” she replied, shrugging. 

You slowly sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, refusing to open your eyes and face her.

“I really need the money.” 

When you open your eyes again, it’s because you hear the roll of her weathered chair. Now standing full height, the middle-aged woman shook her head softly, a hint of a smirk playing out on her lips. 

“Like I said; steal better shit.” She turned to leave before facing you again. “You could always come and work with our girls.”

She glanced through the door that was cracked open, eyes resting on the table situated in the corner of the adjacent room. Around it, a group of girls set down cards while pushing poker chips around. 

“Sell my body? I’d rather die,” you scoffed. 

“Suit yourself. Now, get out.”

“Was planning to.” You flipped her the bird, knowing that she was watching you leave.

“Real classy,” she called after you. “You gotta come back here for your next week’s dinner, you whore!”

“That’s all you,” you smiled at her before slamming the door closed on your way out. Oh, the satisfaction of pissing someone off; unparalleled. 

Placing your measly wage into a makeshift purse, you made your way back home. You hugged your frame tightly, keeping your head down and pacing through the dilapidated neighbourhood. 

Once upon a time, when you were new to the shadier areas of town, you affirmed to yourself every day that this situation was temporary. The hope for a better job, better apartment and better tomorrow kept you going for a long time. Deep down though, you knew it wasn’t temporary, and now you were being proven right every day. What was keeping you going these days? Multiple times, you delayed the contemplation of that question, knowing that if you thought about it… well, it’s better to not go there. 

You were careful to double-check the lock on your door and windows when you stepped into the cramped shower. Today, you thanked God for hot water, even though you were sure he didn’t exist. Mind empty like a brand new chalkboard, you shuffled around your one-room housing and put together something edible to appease the churning stomach.

Your ear perked up at what sounded like the creaking of the fourth floorboard from your bed. You locked the door. You were sure of it. 

Still, you peeked over the short dividing wall that hid the view of your bed from the kitchen. Nothing. You shook your head at your paranoia and turned back to get to the less-than-appetizing meal waiting for you. 

Steve jammed the needle into your neck, expecting you to fall back into his arms. Instead, your forehead hits the edge of your counter and you slump onto the floor. Your eyes shutting down and head throbbing, you reach out to feel your attacker and touch Steve with saucy fingers. He groans in annoyance as he picks up your whimpering form. 

Thump, thump, thump.

The nightclubs you frequent were full of snobby, rich kids who didn’t know the value of wealth. You stole to survive. They could survive without their wristwatch for one night. 

Thump, thump, thump.

Music turned the speakers inside out, deafening those closest to it, but the youth are resilient to damage in any form. For you, though, it was too loud; too much. It wasn’t uncommon of you to walk away from the scene with a pounding head. 

Thump, thump, thump.

The inside of your head resembled the thumping of club speakers. Jaw slack and eyes foggy, you tried to rub your temples. But your arms wouldn’t move. 

Sitting up the best you could, you looked down at your hands to see them bound by zip ties, sitting on your lap. It was joke-worthy how your captor thought they could bind you with zip ties, of all things. He would have to do better than this. 

You tugged on the end of the tie using teeth and tightened it some more before huddling your knees up to your chest. Bringing your hands down as hard as you can against your kneecap, you awaited the snapping sound of the zip tie. Nothing came. You look at your hands again, realizing that they were still bound.

“Don’t do that,” a voice piped up from the dark corner of the room. Startled, you look to the source of the voice but no light fell in that direction. For the first time, you took in your surroundings: half of the room was divided by a set of bars. The other side had large machinery with wires running towards the jail section. As you trailed your eyes across the wires, you noticed a closed door. 

At least you knew it was possible to escape now. 

Quickly turning to the place the voice came from, you scooted backwards some more and anticipated the arrival of your captor. 

A woman crawled forward slowly with bounded legs and arms like yours. 

Seeing that it was just another prisoner, you tightened the strap of your zip tie again and tried breaking it one more time. It snapped. Rubbing your wrists where they were bound, you got straight to undoing the bind on your legs. Beside you, the girl moved closer and repeatedly begged you not to free yourself. 

“Shut up, Brit,” you mumbled, referring to her accent.

The bind on your legs gave away and you stood up and stretched. Tentatively stalking around the cell, you noticed the toilet and sink. Why would he have those amenities in here if you were tied up anyway? When you went to touch the bars separating the room, the girl cried out again. 

“Stop! Don’t!” 

You rolled your eyes and touched it anyway. Electricity surged through you and you yelped, pulling back immediately. 

“Could’ve told me it was an electric gate,” you snapped. 

“Don’t try to escape.” 

You looked at her incredulously. “And sit here like ducks, waiting for him to kill us?”

“Someone will find us!” she pleaded. 

“Look at me! Look at you! No one is looking for us. The police won’t blink twice if people like us are gone. And he knows that.” You eyed the door that was inside your cell and looked to the other one outside the bars. 

“Do you want me to remove your binds or not?”

The girl sheepishly looked down before sticking her arms out for you. 

“My name is Peggy,” she offered as she stood up. She held your arm for support when blood rushed to her head. You shot her a withering look in response and she took her hand off. 

“I don’t think we can leave. He can probably hurt us with these implants.” Peggy pulled her hair to one side and showed you the nape of her neck. A glowing red triangle shone from under her skin. 

Your eyes widened, immediately reached for the back of your head. You felt around and touched the area that stung a little when you touched it. You compulsively hissed, realizing that your implant was fresh and the skin around it had not healed yet. 

“Has he done anything to you using the implant?” you held and shook Peggy’s shoulders while you questioned. 

“No, no, but he said it collects brain data and that it was connected to my spinal column, so I shouldn’t try anything.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Once. It’s Steve Rogers, the inventor guy on the cover of all the Forbes magazines.”

“Brain data,” you silently repeated as you look to the other side of the cell again. 

“I have an idea. Rip your clothes like this,” you demonstrated.

Using the rags ripped off from both of your prisoner uniforms, the pair of you created a long rope-like contraption with a loop on the end. You stuck your hand through the gaps in the cell and tried to fling the loop to a nook in the machinery. Failing hurt, your arm accidentally brushing against the metal once or twice before the loop finally caught onto a crevice. 

“That’s the wrong part,” your fellow inmate breathed.

“Yeah, but that’ll work too.” You pulled as hard as you could and a section of the machine broke off, sparks flying from the source. It crackled and caught on fire. 

Peggy was pulling the cell door open, grunting as she tried her best. It gave way and you both looked at each other briefly before dashing out of the room. The jail room went up in flames behind you. Peggy looked over her shoulder, but you yanked her arm, signalling her to keep running. 

You flew up stairs and through doors, finally making your way into a clearing. Peggy rushed to what seemed to be the entrance door and frantically banged on it. 

“HELP!”

“That’s not gonna work!” you rushed to the door and inspected the lock. On the right side, there was a screen that displayed a handprint. 

Do not try to escape. Only Steven can leave the premises. 

“What?” you whispered. The new voice was coming from all around you, seemingly through fixtures in the ceiling and walls, but you couldn’t be sure. The situation was tense and you were scared the whole house was going to burn down.

Before you could catch her, Peggy planted her hand on the screen which scanned and turned red. Suddenly, all the lights emanated red, accompanying a booming alarm that blared through the house. 

In the distance, what you assumed was a statuesque décor piece, came to life. It reminded you of the spiders from the Maze Runner. A motorized killing machine. It stalked towards Peggy and you with pincers appearing from its side. 

Screaming, Peggy ran. So did you, but you weren’t sure if you were screaming. You couldn’t hear through the noise your friend was making on top of the deafening alarm. 

The spider machine stuck out its knife-like hands, trying to stab you. As you ran into another room, you frantically searched for an exit. Right now, your priority was to survive this thing.

You pulled open a cupboard in what appeared to be the study and instructed Peggy to climb in. The monster was coming. There wasn’t much time to hide. 

You shut the closet door and hid behind a lounging chair in the corner. 

The machine came in and scanned the room, looking for your heat signatures. It could see Peggy.

The cupboard door flung open and Peggy shrieked, crawling out of it in attempts to move out of the line of attack. She took 4 steps on her knees and looked straight into your eyes. 

“HELP ME-”

You screamed when she was dragged back towards the machine. You couldn’t save her anymore. You mobilized and ran back to the living room area, not even turning back to address blood that splattered across your back. It wasn’t in your best interest to find out how she was killed. 

“Aries!”

Frozen in fear, you look to your right to see the entrance door open. There stood your captor, staring at the machine that was now hovering over you. 

“Stop,” he muttered and set down his briefcase. 

Aries retracted its pincers, making its way back to the little pedestal it was perched on before. It powered down just as the CEO stepped into the house and glared at you.

For a split second, the doors were open, and you considered tackling past him. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

You collapsed onto the floor where you were already lying down. Getting out was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated. 

Your hands were bound again, but this time, behind you. You were seated on a pedestal like the one Aries was on, except this one had an ugly glass décor piece that extended to the ceiling. You tugged on the bonds, hoping for some leeway, but Rogers had learned his lesson. 

You shook your head side to side, trying to get pieces of hair and blood off your face. Eventually, you had to give up, slumping into the post your arms were tied to. 

“You cost me 7 million dollars worth of tech,” Steve’s voice sounded from another room. 

“If you let me go, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone. They won’t believe me anyway.” 

He appeared in front of you and placed both hands on either side of your thighs. 

“Things will work out for you, if you just… shut up.” 

You exhaled and turned your face to the right, hoping he’d stop invading your personal space. 

“Just… please, untie me.”

He stood back and considered your request before rounding the side of the pedestal and untying you. 

“Bucky?”

Yes, Steve.

“Activate Aries if she moves a single inch from her spot.” He eyed you at the end of his command and sauntered away to god-knows-where. 

You hoped it wouldn’t be pushing your luck to stand up and stretch, so you did. You mentally considered the various stretches you did as a child, during gymnastics. It had been years since you recalled those, so you did them to the best of your ability. It’s funny how life works. One day you were among a row of girls, learning how to do a cartwheel and before you know it, you’re in a psycho’s mansion as a lab experiment. 

About 30 feet away from this pedestal was Aries.  

Cautiously, you took a few steps away from your place. No reaction from Aries. That meant ‘Bucky’ and Aries weren’t the same thing. You could also deduce from Steve’s command, Bucky was capable of conversing.

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position.

You took another step anyway, wondering how much you could test the limits of this A.I. 

Do not take another step forward, Subject 10. I have been told to inflict pain if you move from your position. 

You considered making a run for it but reconsidered. Aries would activate in less than 5 seconds and Steve was still in the house somewhere. You needed to play this better. Besides, you didn’t even have an exit point. 

You went back to your pedestal and sat down, drawing patterns on the ground with your feet. It would help to know the time or date. A part of you wondered if anyone was looking for you, but you yourself had answered that question long ago. No one looks for people like you or me. 

It could’ve been hours or minutes, but finally, Steve called you into a different room. You observed your environment as you stalked towards the kitchen area where the inventor was seated. 

“Sit,” he motioned at the chair that was on the other end of the table. 

As soon as you sat, tiny robots flew to your seat and placed food in front of you. It was some sort of soup with a side of bread, the only utensil he gave you being a spoon. Smart bastard. 

You wanted to hold off on the food; you really did. But you didn’t even get to eat the sandwich that you were putting together before the kidnapping. So you began devouring the meal, ignoring his pointed stare at your lack of table manners. It was only when you were halfway through the meal did you realize that the food may be drugged. Too late now.

“You killed my only other test subject and rendered her data useless.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

Steve dropped his steak knife and fork, shooting daggers into your eyes.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. You could tell by the way he talked that he was used to getting what he wanted. He relished in it.

“Every day, for the next two weeks, I’m going to leave for work. And every day, you’re going to complete the puzzles and tasks that Bucky tells you to do.”

“And if I don’t?”

“It won’t take me more than 10 minutes to kill you, clean up the mess and dispose of your body.”

“If you could kill me, you probably would’ve. I know you considered it,” you remarked, leaning back into your chair and folding your arms.

“Now, why would I waste a perfectly good test subject?” It was his turn to mimic your body language. 

“If you want me to do what you need me to do, I need three things,” you announced. 

“It’s funny how you think you have any leverage in this situation.”

You kept your face stoic, trying to prove that you were serious about the negotiations. If he didn’t allow you these requests, you would never escape. 

“Okay, go on,” he said, clearly amused. 

“I need clothes. Regular clothes, not prisoner uniforms. I need to shower. And I need proper food, like what you’re eating.”

“That’s quite the list.” he laughed. Abruptly, his features turned serious. “I hope you know that you don’t hold any cards against me right now, and if I allow any of those things, it’s out of the kindness of my heart.”

It was your turn to laugh. “The kindness of your heart,” you wheezed between laughs. “Sure, okay. Yeah.”

He swallowed the last piece of his meal and gestured towards the sofas. 

“Bucky will be guarding you throughout the night. Don’t think of trying anything.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you beamed at his sour expression right before leaving the table.

Masterlist

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

Between You, Batman, and the Bat-Hound, I'll Take the Bat-Hound

A fic about Bruce Wayne deciding to adopt a service dog.

Read on ao3 here. Warning for major character death.

Bruce got Ace when Dick was ten. He’d started therapy when Dick was eight, but it had taken a while for it to occur to Bruce to get a service animal. Ace was a German Shepherd who had thrived in his emotional support training and had so far passed all his requirements with shining colors. Bruce and Dick had met Ace and a few other dogs in New York a month before their graduation and Dick had felt an immediate connection to the dog. Bruce had made a sizable donation to the program, paid for the full costs of the next 632 dogs that were going to be placed with owners for the next year, and a month later Bruce, Dick, and Alfred flew back to New York to pick up Ace and fly home.

For being only one year old, Ace was a dog who took his job very seriously. He had obediently followed Bruce from room to room, and didn’t wander off while they were in the Batcave, and instead sat patiently at Bruce’s feet.

Dick adored Ace, and it was obvious Ace loved Dick. Ace technically had his own bed, though Ace actually spent half his nights sleeping with Dick and half his nights curled up on Bruce’s bed. Dick always tried to come with Bruce for Ace’s walks and always made sure Ace got presents when the holidays rolled around. Ace’s favorite toy was a Batman plush Dick bought for him, and Ace carried it with him everywhere. Ace stoically endured it when a 12-year-old Dick dressed him in a Batman costume for Halloween. The picture of the dog was hung in the hallway leading to the kitchen, where other important family photos resided, with the caption “Ace the Bat-Hound” in Dick’s handwriting. Ace curled up with Dick whenever Dick had nightmares about snapping wires.

Bruce loved his serious and stoic dog.

Jason was wary of Ace when he first came to the manor. In his experience, most big dogs were threats he had to guard against. Bruce had combatted this by letting Jason come with him to the office one day while Ace was working, his bright red service vest on. By the end of the day, Jason was significantly more comfortable with the dog, and it wasn’t odd to see Jason holding one-sided conversations with Ace while ranting about his homework.

Ace took his responsibilities just as seriously when it came to Jason as he did when it came to Bruce and Dick. He spent most nights in Jason’s bedroom, who had horrible night terrors. When Jason was at school, Ace spent his time in Dick’s room, curled up on the bed with his Batman toy.

When Jason died, Ace stayed attached to Bruce’s side every minute that he could. When Bruce was on patrol, he paced the hallway in front of Jason’s locked door, and sometimes Alfred would cry into his fur. Ace spent more time in the Batcave, waiting for Bruce to come home, his head resting on his crossed paws. Alfred stayed alert for Ace to come get him when Bruce was injured (which was often).

Tim’s mother had claimed an allergy to dogs and cats, so Tim had grown up with neither. He knew, logically, that Bruce Wayne had a service dog, but he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of an animal that seemed to be what happened if Bruce Wayne’s personality had been put into the body of a dog. The first time Tim heard Bruce really laugh had been when Ace had tugged Tim to the floor while wrestling over a rope, and then had climbed onto Tim and whined apologetically. When Tim’s parents left on trips after only being home a few weeks and he collapsed into the bed in his spare bedroom at Wayne Manor that was slowly becoming his bedroom, Ace would lay with him, on top of Tim’s legs. Ace was too well-trained to jump in greeting, but his tail always wagged when he saw Tim again, and when Dick began to come around more Ace could barely contain himself from following his first kid around the manor.

David Cain had used dogs in his training of Cassandra. When Bruce had first seen the horrific bite scar in Cass’s upper arm, he’d gritted his teeth and within the week took down a burgeoning dog fighting ring.

He thought about doing what he did with Jason, letting Cass spend a few days with him and Ace to let Cass feel more comfortable, but Cass had had any and all indications of fear trained out of her, so Bruce couldn’t even be sure she was even afraid of them. Ace, clever as he was, seemed to pick up on Bruce’s tension, and was always on his best behavior when Cass was around. While Bruce was still mulling it over, he came across Cass and Ace in the library, Cass with her phone leaned up against Ace and watching a video while Ace sat quietly with his Batman toy, his tail wagging. Bruce quickly teamed up with Ace to teach him the ASL signs for his commands, and soon enough Cass started to take Ace with her whenever she left the manor to travel into Gotham, Ace wearing his vest with pride. Ace was a big hit with the Gotham City Adult Beginner’s Ballet Class, who were very careful to not distract Ace from his job.

Ace met Krypto once. Ace was unimpressed. Bruce shared half his sandwich with Ace as a reward.

The first time Red Hood was invited back to the Batcave, Ace had sniffed him, settled at his feet, and had refused to leave his side until Jason left. Ace once again took up vigil outside Jason’s door, so Alfred unlocked it for him. Alfred sat on the edge of Jason’s bed, and Ace had put his head in Alfred’s lap and closed his eyes while Alfred pet him. Ace went to retrieve his toy and then slept in Jason’s room for the first time in several years.

When Damian came to the manor, Ace was an old dog, with grey around his muzzle. Sometimes he had trouble going down the stairs. Bruce did not miss Damian’s quickly hidden interest in the dog, and had kneeled down to introduce them.

When Dick, Damian, and Alfred moved to the penthouse, Damian had quickly commandeered responsibility for taking care of Ace. He prepared specially made food for him, took him on his walk, and defaulted to talking about Ace whenever he could.

For Ace, the strangest part about moving back to the manor and seeing Bruce again for the first time in a year was learning to live with other animals. When Titus first arrived, he was small enough to walk underneath Ace, but he quickly grew into his oversized paws and soon the Great Dane dwarfed the German Shepherd. Titus loved Ace, and while Ace tried to act disinterested, he was clearly fond of Titus, too. For Halloween that year, Ace was once again forced into his Batman costume by his first kid while Titus happily played in his Robin costume. Alfred the cat was apparently supposed to be Catwoman. Ace grumpily sat by Bruce while Bruce sympathetically patted the old dog on the head and then he spent the night in Bruce’s bed when he came back from patrol.

When Duke joined the family, Ace was a quiet, old dog with drooping eyes. He couldn’t come out with Duke because he got tired easily, but whenever Duke visited his parents Ace would spend the rest of the day with him. He carried his Batman toy with him everywhere. He was a pleasant companion while Duke did homework, and didn’t seem to care when Duke blasted his music. In the afternoons, while everyone else was asleep, Ace came down with Duke to the Batcave and waited patiently for Duke to suit up for patrol, and was always there when Duke came back.

One day, Duke and Damian came home from school to find Steph, Cass, and Tim huddled at the base of the grand staircase, whispering. Duke and Damian shared a look before approaching them, and when Damian made a loud “tt” noise, Tim and Steph jumped and whirled around while Cass turned sedately. Damian stared at the trio judgmentally while they all looked at each other. Duke noticed Ace at their feet.

“Ace can’t make it up the stairs,” Tim finally said, looking unsettled. Duke’s attention immediately snapped to Ace, who was laying down just beside the first step.

“Can he walk at all?” Damian asked.

“He followed us from the living room,” Steph said, “but he was limping a little. And then he couldn’t make it up the stairs after us.”

Damian chewed his lip, uncharacteristically unsure. “We should call Father,” he finally said, “and bring his bed downstairs. And his toy.”

Steph veered back to the living room to fetch his toy while Cass and Duke went upstairs to get his bed out of Bruce’s room. Damian gently shepherded Ace to the kitchen with Alfred while Tim called Bruce, his voice quiet in the somber mood of the kitchen while the kids lingered there.

Bruce, who was at Wayne Enterprises, broke several traffic laws to get home within half an hour to meet his family in the kitchen. He crouched to check over Ace the same way Damian did, and Ace’s tail began to wag weakly as soon as he saw Bruce.

“He seems alright apart from the stairs,” Damian reported. “He ate and drank at his usual times, though he does appear more lethargic than usual.”

His other children and Alfred watched Bruce and Bruce ran his hand over Ace’s side, thinking.

“I’ll keep an eye on him tonight,” Bruce decided. “If he gets worse, I’ll take him to the vet. I’ll inform Dick, Jason, and Barbara to cover my patrol route.”

Duke shared an alarmed look with Cass. Bruce almost never passed up a night of patrol without much cajoling.

That night, Bruce moved his things downstairs and took up residence with Ace in one of the spare bedrooms on the first floor. Over the next month, visitors trickled in one at a time.

Dick seemed to be over every other day. He bought Ace a Robin plush that quickly settled beside his old and ragged Batman plush, right in the center of Bruce and Ace’s new bed. Dick brought his daughter, too, and she happily petted Ace and played with him while Ace bore it with the quiet dignity he always did.

Barbara visited, and she sat on the couch with Ace in the living room while she coded and he snored. At dinner, she dropped food underneath the table for him.

Titus spent his mornings while the kids were at school with Ace, cuddling with him and trying to play. Once, Ace had growled ferociously when Titus tried to take his Batman toy, and Damian had retreated to his room in tears after he’d pulled Titus away. Ace had apologised the next day by letting Titus play with the toy, though he was careful not to let it out of his sight.

After patrol one night Bruce came home and Ace was on his dog bed, asleep. Bruce couldn’t recall a time when Ace hadn’t either stayed up to wait for Bruce or gone to sleep with one of the children. Bruce picked Ace’s toys up off of their bed and set them by Ace, and then curled up around his dog for a brief minute and had fallen asleep on the dog bed.

Jason had carried Ace up the stairs and they spent the whole day in Jason’s room, and when Jason got bored of that they’d wandered into everyone else’s rooms, and found an old ball hiding underneath Damian’s bed. Ace had panted happily when they reached Bruce’s room, so they’d spent the day watching movies on Bruce’s bed.

Cass invited some of her old friends from the ballet group and Ace had perked up. They’d laughed and spent a few hours with him, and at the end of the visit Cass had been the proud owner of a bag of treats for Ace. That night, she spent several hours during patrol following every stray dog she found, giving them food and water when she could.

Steph bought Ace increasingly ridiculous doggy accessories when inspiration struck and taking numerous selfies with him, matching sunglasses on their face. She sent every one to Bruce.

Sometimes, Alfred the cat would take advantage of Ace’s now docile attitude to sit on him and take a nap.

Tim managed to coax Ace out onto the manor grounds on a particularly sunny day and Tim sketched out blueprints while Ace lay pressed against his side. The sun seemed to give him enough energy to play fetch with a stick for a few throws, and Tim recorded him on his phone and then sent it to the family group chat. Bruce reacted to the video with a heart.

Damian spent any time not in school or on patrol with Ace. He quietly followed Ace from room to room, from sibling to sibling and during their monthly family movie night he sat on the floor with Ace and the rest of their siblings and patted his belly and cooed at him about what a good boy he was. A few times, Bruce had gone upstairs after the rest of his children had already gone to sleep and found Damian asleep in his bed with Ace.

While they waited for the rest of their family to return home from patrol, Alfred sat with Ace in Bruce and Ace’s room and gently pet him while he read a book.

Duke carried Ace down to the Batcave after his afternoon patrol while the rest of the house’s occupants were sleeping. They sat in front of a display case containing one of the old batsuits, and Ace nosed the glass. Duke left him for a moment to find the current cape and wrapped Ace in it. Duke carried Ace back upstairs, cape and all, at the end of Bruce’s afternoon nap and dropped Ace off next to Bruce. It was a blatant violation of Alfred’s “no uniforms in the house” rule, but Duke figured Alfred would make an exception.

That night, Batman went out in a slightly older version of the cape.

On the last day, Bruce stayed home because Ace wouldn’t sleep or eat or move and just lay on their bed, whining intermittently. Bruce’s hands shook when he called his children who weren’t living at the manor, and on the way to the vet Duke and Damian sat with Ace in the back. Alfred was on his phone, texting various members of the family, and he kept turning in his seat to smile sadly at the dog and reach back to pet him. Bruce’s eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to watch his dog.

They waited until all of the children came. Dick was already in tears when he and Jason came, and Jason’s were red and puffy. Everyone was teary-eyed by the time Tim finally arrived, apologetic and frantic. The entire Wayne family gathered in the back to wait with Ace.

“Wait,” Dick said, his voice rough and nearly hysterical. “His toy, did anyone get his Batman toy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened for a moment before Duke shrugged off his backpack he brought from the manor. He pulled out Ace’s Batman toy, the cape Ace had been sleeping with, folded up to look like a blanket and finally, his old service dog vest, slightly faded after years of washing. Duke handed them all to Bruce who laid them out beside Ace. when Bruce gently set down the Batman plush beside Ace, Ace ignored it in favor of nuzzling into Bruce’s hand.

This is what caused Jason to make a loud hiccuping sob and burst into tears, and then all the kids followed suit.

“Children,” Alfred began, choked up, “we must make a valiant effort to… to...” he trailed off, tears dripping down his cheeks.

His children clung to each other as the vet came in, and Bruce pet Ace’s scruff while someone clung to his hand.

Bruce and Ace looked at each other. A man and his service dog. The Batman and The Bat-Hound.

“You were the best dog a man could ever ask for,” Bruce whispered when Ace closed his eyes.

***

Six months later, Bruce was waylaid by his eldest child while on the way to work.

“Did someone ask for a valet?” Dick grinned, and Bruce grunted and got in the backseat so he could talk to his granddaughter. A few minutes later, Alfred got into the passenger seat and Bruce’s trepidation grew.

“Dick,” he said, “you know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, Bruce,” Dick said, “but it’s a good one this time, I promise.”

“The last time you said that someone painted the Batmobile pink.”

Dick laughed. Bruce turned to his granddaughter. “I swear I will never attempt to throw you a surprise party as long as I live.”

Mary gurgled at him.

“Hmm,” Bruce said. “Yes, you understand me.”

An hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the GCPD police academy and they got out of the car.

“You said this was a good surprise, chum.”

“It is!” Dick said as he unbuckled Mary.

“I can see Steph’s car across the parking lot. And Barbara’s and Tim’s and Jason’s bike. If this is a surprise party I will never forgive any of you.”

Dick scoffed. “It is not anywhere close to your birthday.”

“A perfect time to strike.”

As they walked into the lobby, a man straightened from where he was talking to the person manning the front desk.

“Jim,” Bruce’s smile came a little easier as he walked over to shake his hand. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Jim sighed. “Barbara says I can’t complain because I was lucky enough to retire. It’s so awful I almost miss being a beat cop. Almost.”

Jim turned and started to walk down the hall. “Your kids are waiting for you,” he stopped by a nondescript door.

“I suppose you can’t tell me what this is about?”

“Well, that would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it, Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, but turned and opened the door.

“I knew it was a surprise party.”

All of his kids were piled into the small office, and they laughed at him. Barbara was in the middle of the room, a box by her feet, looking distinctly pleased with herself.

“Hi, Bruce,” she said, and then pulled out a small German Shepherd from the box.

Bruce said nothing.

“Don’t freak out,” Dick said, too late.

“Too late,” Jason said.

“I’m not freaking out,” Bruce said.

“You look like you’re freaking out a little,” Duke said apologetically.

Bruce abruptly smoothed his face.

“One of my dad’s friends helps run the K9 training. This little one was a bit ‘too friendly’ for K9 work,” Barbara said, patting the puppy’s head, whose tongue was lolling out. “So I asked if we could take her instead.”

“Guess what her name is,” Jason said, gleeful.

“Every litter usually gets themed names,” Barbara said, smiling, “And this litter’s theme was a certain group of Bat-themed vigilantes…”

“Oh, no,” Bruce said.

“Oh, yes,��� Jason said.

Barbara lifted up the German Shepherd, “say hello to Robin.”

Bruce sighed but still reached out to pick up the dog. He lifted her up and stared at her face while she panted happily at him. Bruce sighed.

“Did we crush this surprise party or what?” Steph said. “Up top!” and Cass and Tim gave her a high-five.

Bruce cradled the dog to his chest and stroked her fur. Damian reached over to scratch her head.

“Being Robin is a very important responsibility,” Damian told the dog, “but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“It turns out all of the puppies washed out of their police training. I’ve never been more proud,” Jason said.

Cass turned to Bruce. “I want the Black Bat puppy,” she signed.

Bruce hid his smile in his new Robin’s fur.

[solomonish]

things my heart used to know (solomon x reader)

You find yourself stuck in an unusual contraption with Solomon, where the only way out is to take a trip through his memories that he was not prepared to take.

Based on Once Upon a December

Ao3 link: here!

With a spectacular grunt, you rammed your shoulder against a suspicious spot in the wall, hoping that just maybe you could bring the whole wall down or convince someone to help you out or something. Chances of that were low: you and Solomon had been alone when the mysterious magical device activated, trapping you both inside. Trying to shove the more hopeless thoughts of never escaping away, you continued to push at the wall, as if one spot would give and open up to let the two of you out.

Solomon was behind you, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked the picture of calm, a small smile playing with the corners of his mouth as he listened to your struggle. When you looked at him with the intention of giving him a glare, you saw the dim light in the box had turned from white to gold. With a cocked eyebrow, you pushed away from the wall as you felt it morph from stone to something smoother. “What’s…”

“It’s deciding which form to take,” Solomon answered as if that told you anything. Met with silence, he chuckled and pushed himself off of the wall to make his way over to you. “We’re in a memory box.”

“A memory box?” Inadvertently, you stepped closer to him, only stopping when your arm brushed gently across his. The sensation of the walls changing beneath your hands put the horrible thought of your hands getting stuck in a partially-morphed wall, and you wanted to stick next to him in case that really did happen.

Clearly amused, Solomon looked down at you, the teasing smirk on his face making him look much more condescending than he normally did. “Yes. They require a strong magical energy to work, and typically only work once. They’re especially popular with those of us who...have a lot of memories to sift through, but they can be used by anyone. I’m surprised this one lasted so long without being used...” 

As he talked, he walked forward, noting how you stuck close to his side and looked around nervously. The darkness was slowly dissipating and the focused light began to expand into a broader golden glow. The box transformed into a long hallway, the end opening into a room you couldn’t quite see into. Curiously, the walls around you started to shine, taking on their own gilded form. Intricate shapes were carved into the gold, reaching tall like palm trees. In front of each carving stood a gold pedestal, each with some artifact on it that looked to you like they belonged in a museum. 

Finally pulling apart from his side, you ran your fingers over one of the trees. The walls seemed stable, thankfully. “You seem to know a lot about these memory boxes. Have you used one before? Oooh, or did you create them?”

He picked up a small statuette, his gaze darkening for a moment as he stared at it absently. “I...am familiar with how they work.”

He placed the statuette down with a solid clink, drawing your attention from the wall and stopping you from commenting about how utterly unhelpful his response was. Had you said something wrong? His footsteps were faster than before as he made his way down the hall, barely glancing at the walls as if he had seen them before. Well, actually, he probably had. As far as you were aware, you didn’t have an intricate temple in your memories, so this must be coming from him.

Scurrying after him, you followed him through the shadowed doorway and stepped into a room that was just as ornate but not at all connected to the hallway you were just in. While the hall looked like some temple from the first century, the ballroom-like space before you seemed much more recent, if not still at least a hundred years old. You were standing on a high landing, having emerged from an archway several feet taller than you. You weren’t an architect or archaeologist, but you could guess the style of the architecture was different. Maybe...more European? Of some sort? Cringing, you tried to push the image of your humanities professor scowling at you out of your head and slowed your own steps, choosing instead to look at the high ceilings around you.

“I’ve never seen a place like this before…” You murmured in awe. Though the room was dark and clearly abandoned, you still felt a still kind of magic around you, different from what you normally felt around Solomon. He was a few feet to your left, looking at a separate old artifact and standing before a table littered with them. If you squinted, you could see what looked like wings stretched across a long serving dish, the paint chipped and faded. You couldn’t tell if it was an angel or a bird - the pinched expression on Solomon’s face didn’t give you any clues, either. A chill settled in the room, but only you shuddered, suddenly realizing that you were an intruder in these unfamiliar rooms. The thought had you awkwardly kicking at the worn rugs beneath you, the threads dirty and torn yet somehow still looking expensive.

Without a word, Solomon dug around in the bag he was carrying with him, hastily looking for something. You watched him drop it unceremoniously on the ground, bringing up a cloud of dirt around it. In his hand was the notebook he used to teach you different runes, a faint glow coming from the page following the stroke of his pen. The sound of the page being ripped from the binding seemed to fill the room, followed by his steady footsteps as he made his way to the grand staircase. You watched him go, only turning your head so as not to draw his attention.

After he passed, you cautiously sauntered over to the table Solomon was standing at, stooping to pick up the bag he left behind. Slinging the long strap across your chest, you picked up a bear figurine gilded in chipping gold, turning it so that it caught the light. All of the figures before you seemed to be masterful pieces of craftsmanship, regal things to be envied yet somehow seeming personal.  You were almost afraid to touch them for fear of offending the unknown owner.

Your hand fell to your side, bumping a cool metal box on the way and nearly knocking it off the table. Thankfully, you caught it and brought it to your face. Opening up the small lid to reveal another bear, this one standing up as if dancing one half of the tango, you gently turned it around to find the crank. It was old and a bit rusty, but still you turned it gently once, twice, three times until you could feel the springs coiled so tightly they might break. For a moment, you held your breath, then - 

Nothing. No sound came out of the box.

"Hmph. That's a shame," You murmured, tapping the side gently with your finger. Unsurprisingly, that didn't work and you set the box down on the table again. Turning over your shoulder, you called out, "So, what is this pl- ack!"

Just as you turned, a small display of glitter resembling fireworks shot out from Solomon's hand, the shimmering ash eating away at the paper that hovered in midair. Your shout of surprise didn't stir him, his back rigid and still facing you.. The quiet fizzle that caught you off guard became a visible stream of magic curling around him and you before spreading to the far corners of the room. 

You watched as the shadows were pushed into the walls before entirely disappearing, the magic gilding the ballroom and mending the disrepair it had fallen into. Tapestries unfurled to hang on the wall as the vibrancy of the old portraits returned. Overhead, empty arches found themselves holding large, crystalline chandeliers that bathed the room in a welcoming glow. Behind you, the music box started playing, the tune sounding like a full orchestra even if you knew it should only be a dissonant metallic tin. The extravagance caught your breath, nearly distracting you from the way the paintings began to shift and colors bled together.

With another wave of his hand, Solomon drew figures from the painting, hundreds spilling out as if a day had been broken. A few emerged from the floor, entering the ballroom the same way one would step out of a lake and onto the shore. Some of the figures wire masks, hiding their identity with the facade of thespian comedy. Others came as they were, wearing the same face in a variety of expressions. Despite the period clothing and many different hairstyles, the face was eerily familiar.

You watched ghoulish duplicates of Solomon traipse around the floor or mingle, talking to invisible counterparts animatedly. The figures that were not identical were faceless, aside from the occasional partner that seemed to exist in greater detail than any version of Solomon. The figures never stepped a foot on the staircase that was now covered in a rich red carpet - somehow, they were completely unaware of your presence yet seemed to know and respect that you and your Solomon lived in reality. They were citizens of the mindscape, figments of the past, and the barrier between what is and what was should not have been breached.

So caught up in your shock were you that you failed to notice Solomon head down the stairs, as if in a trance, and breach that barrier.

Once you saw him slipping between the ghostly figures, expertly sidestepping them as if he had studied their waltz for years, you called out to him. But he did not answer, too focused on the people milling around him. Maybe your voice was drowned out by the faux chorus around you. With a huff, you gripped the strap across your chest and followed him, walking down the stairs so quickly you almost tripped.

The moment you reached the foot of the stairs, you felt as though you had stepped into a bubble. With a close eye on the figures around you, you picked your way through the crowd with significantly less grace than Solomon. You never lost sight of him in his dark clothes, the dancers only distorting his image as if you were looking through water or a warped mirror as they passed in front of your line of sight. One pair accidentally passed through you, sending a harsh arctic chill down your spine. You watched that Solomon, his hair slightly neater and sporting a ridiculous frilly neck accessory you might have made fun of under different circumstances, pay no mind to you and instead look down at his companion. His expression was mischievous, scheming, but the woman he was dancing with had a face of static, barring you from reading her reaction.

Clutching tighter to the bag strap, you hastened your pace and tried to maneuver through the spirits, occasionally brushing your elbow or hip through the people around you. Each time it sent a different shiver through you, some icy while others were warm and tingled your skin. Surrounded by phantom Solomons only made you more eager to find your place next to the real one again, but the static shock you got from passing through the hurdles made you all the more careful in your steps. Who knew finding your way through a crowd you could walk right through would be harder than finding your way through a collection of solid bodies?

Near the center of the room, you found yourself in an open area with Solomon, your Solomon, standing in the middle. It seemed the translucent versions of himself knew to steer clear of him. You watched, standing just on the edge of where the crowd seemed to circle around him, watching as he took in his surroundings. Then, slowly, Solomon turned to you as if realizing for the first time that you were there.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing could come out. All your words tangled together, the confusion only growing when Solomon reached a hand out to you, palm up. The gaze he held you in was unfocused, his expression the closest to unkind you had ever seen. Even if there were no right decisions, rejecting his offer to dance seemed like the absolute wrong one. With the same timid air as a schoolgirl at her first dance, you placed your hand in his. For a moment, you felt vulnerable as you untucked your arms from your chest, only to feel at ease once Solomon pulled you in. His hand fell to your waist with a practiced ease. If he had been focused, maybe you would've felt butterflies swarming in your stomach, or maybe you would've laughed nervously. His far away gaze kept the joy down, and instead you pressed your lips in a tight line, watching him closely and allowing him to take the lead.

He fell into step with his doppelgangers, directing you through a path of the specters with the firm hand on your waist. Your time at Diavolo's party helped a little, but back then you hadn't been so worried about your partner. (Well, aside from the time Lucifer asked to dance with you only to threaten you - but then you were more worried about what your partner would do to you and not his emotional wellbeing.) It was all you could do to avoid stumbling over your own feet, barely missing his ties with your heavy steps. 

"Solomon…" You breathed out, noticing how his gaze stuck to the spirits for a moment too long before turning to you. Your questions died in your throat - Are you okay? What's happening? What memory is this? How do we get out of here? - but he could read your expression clear as day, even with his mind preoccupied. 

"These are all memories of me," He explained, leading you into a turn and  arely avoiding one of his copies. "I didn't have a specific memory in mind when we activated the box, so...perhaps it just started to play all of them in one."

"So you've been here before?" You asked, astonished.

"It's...familiar. I've been to lots of places. It's hard to tell."

A pair of dancers blew through you, sending a spark down both of your spines. You turned your head to see a version of Solomon look both ways, checking for onlookers that were nowhere to be found, before tenderly reaching towards the face of the man beside him. Before they could meet, Solomon turned you so his body was between you and the romantic scene, but you were able to catch a glimpse of the man's face. It was completely smooth, like an unchisled head to a statue. 

Solomon didn't make eye contact with you, a faint blush painting his cheeks. You squeezed his hand in the only reassurance you could give. "I don't mean to pry."

There was no answer, and you couldn't blame him. Even if you hadn't meant to peer into his memories, you were witnessing versions of himself he didn't tell you about, versions of himself he might not even remember. You didn't know if he was dancing with you to angle you away from the things he didn't want to see or just to keep you close, but the fact that you were even around to be swept up in the sea of Solomons was too personal for him to dwell on.

With an almost imperceptible tilt of his head, Solomon's attention was grabbed by someone on the other end of the room. His grip on your hand tightened and he tucked you slightly closer to himself, spinning you in order to turn your course. You couldn't keep up with his faster footwork, nearly tumbling to the ground and only saved by his firm grasp. Solomon wasn't paying attention to you, though; his focus was on whoever he was pursuing, his turns tight as he guided you into a small circle around the room. 

The fast turns were making you dizzy, unexpectedly jostling you every time his target moved from his sight. Feebly, you used the hand resting on his shoulder to push him gently away, asking him to stop. The more he spun, the harder you pushed, occasionally asking him to slow down. He wasn't hurting you, but you were hoping that if you could get his attention he might stop. The figures around you were whirling, spinning, disorienting you - was that how dizzy and overwhelmed he felt every day, or just now? 

Without warning, the figures around you stretched an arm out as their partners spun away from them, their fingers barely brushing past each other as they disappeared into thin air. As the remain figures turned to fade into their own memories, Solomon did the same to you. You tried to keep your hands connected, hoping maybe if you kept your fingertips on his he could you bring you back to him bring his thoughts with you. That didn't happen, and you felt your fingertips drag across his palm as you stumbled backwards.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you huffed and looked around. It was just you and Solomon in the room again, the Golden facade having faded back into the dim, abandoned ballroom from before. Solomon was staring at a blank space a few feet from the wall, his face scrunched as if watching the world rip something from him. Perhaps he was; perhaps he was watching one of the few faces he could remember beside his own, maybe one of the ones he loved, fade away from his grasp again.

This wasn't about you - clearly, none of the memories were for you to see - but you felt a creeping loneliness settling around you. Solomon was not only lost in his own world, but in hundreds of his own worlds, where details blurred and recognizable friendly faces were a luxury. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you noticed that the music box was now playing music, the kind you'd expect from such a dainty trinket. Now, the sound seemed hollow and eerie, far from how charming you thought it would be before.

Hesitantly, you took one step towards him as the song dwindled to a stop, but the click of your shoe echoed far too aggressively in the room. The walls were slowly returning to the non-descript box you were in before, but Solomon wasn't moving from his spot. The memories would always be swirling around in his head, you supposed. He had to take his time to bridge the gap between you - even if to you, it seemed insurmountable and ever-growing.