#who walks at speeds approaching the fucking sound barrier

[navnae]

Tw: gore and graphic

Posting this again because why not ;)

-

To say Steve was terrified would be an understatement. Hawkins went back into a frenzy after the several discoveries of dead bodies in the woods or on the side of the road and every single one of them had the same bite marks, scratches, also they would be completely torn apart. Unrecognizable, the families that had to identify their loved ones couldn’t even do that which made the situation way worse. A monster was on the loose is what the word around town was and Steve didn’t want to hear it. Guilt started to weigh on him the more he kept hearing these bone chilling stories of how these poor innocent people where showing signs of defending themselves but whatever had got to them overpowered their attempts. Now Steve was pissed, he knew exactly who was doing all of these terrible things and he wasn’t going to pretend like everything has been nothing but sunshine and rainbows. The reality of the situation is Steve knew he had a responsibility but now that there were lives being taken he had to shift the way he handled things, a more serious approach. Steve drove home immediately not really caring about the speed limit at the time. He bursted through his front door then sprinted to his basement, Steve took a deep breath before entering because he didn’t know what he was going to face once there wasn’t a barrier to protect him.

Steve slowly opened the door and he was met with darkness like he usually did but this time was different, there wasn’t a comfortable silence when he started making his way down the stairs. A low bone chilling growl came from deep within his basement along with the sound of aggressive scratching on his walls and floorboards. Steve stepped quietly off the steps then caustically observed the scene in front of him using the light that was somewhat coming through the door. When moved closer he couldn’t hold back the gasp he let out as his eyes laid upon blood all over the floor and scattered human body parts that have been eaten down to the bone, then his eyes locked on the back of Eddie who was devouring something he was holding in his hands before snapping his head towards Steve with bright red eyes and blood all around his mouth dripping onto his clothes. He hissed at Steve, showing off his fangs that were stained red from Eddie’s current meal. Steve flinched at the sound feeling fear at first but the reason why he was even here made him push those feelings aside. He looked at Eddie with pure anger as he took a step closer then ending up in the middle of the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Munson. I thought I could leave you on your own while I went to sleep only to find out you’ve been hurting innocent people!” Steve yelled, his voice filling the room. Eddie hissed at Steve’s words then in a blink of an eye he was on his feet walking towards Steve.

“What did you expect me to do? Sit here in this fucking room all day while you get to go outside and I stay here eating rotting leftovers of animals. It’s survival of the fittest out here, you either kill or get killed!” Eddie spat out. Steve felt like he was talking to a complete stranger and Eddie treated him like one. His eyes were burning holes into Steve and if he really wanted to he could’ve hurt Steve right then. Steve was aware of the risk by stepping up to Eddie in this state but he was so blinded by anger that he didn’t care.

“That doesn’t mean you can just run off whenever you feel like it! What if someone would’ve saw you? They’d kill you on the spot, is that something you want?” Steve asked trying to find the little bit of humanity that Eddie had inside of him. Eddie let out a growl as he jumped at Steve with his teeth showing, it took everything in Steve to not show how terrified he was.

“I don’t care if anyone would’ve saw me. I’m doing what’s right for me, what are you not understanding!” Eddie yelled while taking a few more steps towards Steve making them face to face now. Steve’s heart started beating fast once he fully took in Eddie’s appearance, blood all over him, his eyes were red, his fingernails turned into claws, and his skin was a dark grey. Anything that proved that Eddie was human at one point had completely disappeared.

“If doing what’s right for you means putting someone in danger then I simply can’t allow that. You will not live under my roof if you don’t give a damn about anyone else but yourself, if that’s how you’re going to be then you can get the fuck out!” Steve didn’t get a chance to process anything before he was slammed against a wall with a hand around his neck with pressure being added to it. Eddie dug his claws slightly into Steve’s neck making a sharp gasp escape his lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game by talking to me like that, Harrington. It would be so easy for me to kill you right this second and not give a shit about it later. I’m not your fucking pet and you are not going to treat me like one!” Eddie tightened his grip around Steve’s neck while keeping his eyes on Steve. He was stunned by Steve standing his ground and he matched Eddie’s anger.

“Do it then there’s no one here to stop you. That means I don’t have to go out of my way to do any of this shit for you. If killing me is how you want to repay me then fine, I just hope it’s worth it in the end!” Steve yelled so loud that his voice started to crack. Eddie hissed as he pulled Steve closer by his neck and tilting his head as if he was going to bite him. Steve held his breath when he felt Eddie’s breath against his skin, Eddie’s nose trailing down along the exposed skin. Eddie kept his mouth letting fangs get dangerously close to Steve’s neck.

Steve prepared himself for the worst but it never came. Instead he felt Eddie remove his hand and he walked away from Steve. Tears started to build up in his eyes while he tugged at his hair. Steve tried to even out his breathing and calm himself down, despite his tough facade earlier Steve couldn’t hide the fact that he was a little shaken up. Eddie paced around nervously as he looked at the area that he was at prior, now he was feeling remorseful after seeing the lifeless body parts on the floor. Steve could see Eddie shaking and he was so upset by what he’s done. He turned to Steve with sadness in his, that apologetic look on his face was sincere.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen but I can’t live like this. Staring at these four walls fours, while I crave for things that I know I can’t have.” Eddie explained. He was talking in between breaths as he sobbed uncontrollably. Steve hated seeing him like this, he walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s why it’s important to talk to me and tell me these things so can help you. Eddie, you have to be able to trust me if this how things are going to be.” Steve said softly. Eddie shook his head while pushing Steve’s hand off of him.

“No Steve you don’t get it. Every time you come down here I have to restrain myself from doing something that I might regret. You don’t even realize that every thing I feel is heightened, some days I’m just dying to eat you til there’s nothing left and others-“ Eddie stopped himself from finishing his sentence. He groaned loudly before turning away from Steve, his emotions were going up and down the more he looked at Steve. Eddie’s mind was filled with thoughts that would definitely change their relationship. Steve didn’t know what was going on in Eddie’s head but he still wanted him to know that he was going to be there for him throughout the whole thing.

Steve slowly started walking towards Eddie whose back was turned and stepped in front of him so he could be seen. Even though Eddie kept his head down Steve was still going to try to get his point across.

“Eddie, I’m always going to be here for you and I’m willing to hear you out about anything you need. If you’re craving something I will go out of my way to make sure you get it no matter if it’s a rabbit or deer, even if you’re craving…” Steve trailed off trying to form his words carefully but no matter how he tried to form them it still sounded wrong. He took a deep breath before finishing his sentence.

“Me.”

Eddie met Steve’s gaze instantly to see if he heard him correctly. When Eddie said that everything he felt heightened he literally meant everything and that went a long ways other than in a food sense but Steve had no idea what he was opening the door for. Eddie didn’t want Steve to carry that weight on him especially if he wasn’t comfortable.

“Steve, you don’t have to-“

“I know but I want to. It’s my duty to take care of you in any way and that’s what I’m determined to do. From now on we will discuss all of your needs and find a way to meet them, okay?” Steve asked with a smile. He felt good when Eddie smiled back.

“Okay.” Eddie said softly. This was the Eddie that Steve was used to, not that monster who wanted to terrorize the town.

Both of them went upstairs and Steve got the shower ready for Eddie then taking his dirty clothes and putting them into the washer machine. They made sure that communication was key during this journey of Eddie’s recovery and as time went on their friendship became stronger, slowly they became something more but the idea of being together scared them. All of it was too much to handle in the beginning until they just comfortable with each other. Thing probably would never go back to normal na they were fine with that because this was now their new normal

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #angst fic #angst prompt #short prompt #kas!eddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #steve x eddie #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power #so cuuuute #lmaooooooo #that is so funny #wow #hmmmmm #omfg #i know what you are

[looseinthecatroom]

Queer folk walk fast?

That’s just the blessings of St. Achilles bro.

Swift of feet, gay as fuck.

Whispering in the ears of generations of queers, making us all go nyoom.

#hades game #the song of achilles #tsoa #the iliad #greek mythology #hades game achilles #achilles #full disclosure not even achilles can force me to nyoom. much to my partners eternal discontent #who walks at speeds approaching the fucking sound barrier

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Power Outage

A/N: Requested by anon, from the Fluff prompts of my Fall Prompts list. Thanks Nons, hope you like it! :))

Fall Prompts

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Foul language, fluff, sass because Tony!

Word count: 1300ish

…

Eyes squeezed shut for God knows how long, you finally opened them to find your body crushed against Tony in his suit, holding on for dear life. You realized you were on the ground and it was covered in snow that was slowly getting through the fabric of your skirt.

The face-plate of the suit was open to reveal Tony who was sporting a fresh nose-bleed and the most overwrought look.

He hadn’t loosened his grip on you, making you wonder how you hadn’t cracked any ribs yet. Maybe you had, the adrenaline just wasn’t letting you know.

“You okay babe?” his voice dripping with anxiety.

“I’m fine. The snow is making my clothes wet.” You huffed, pushing the suit back with all your might and scrambling up. Dusting the snow off of your work outfit, you looked around the dark empty space you had crash landed on.

There wasn’t a single building in sight, not even an empty gas station or a shady motel, it was just snow-covered land and a few scarce trees as far as the eye could see.

“Jarvis, don’t leave me buddy.” You heard Tony mumble. The suit had given up, looking like a metal corpse against the icy white bed it laid on. Tony on the other hand hadn’t given up, you could practically see the wheels in his genius brain turn as he fiddled around, trying to get his suit back online.

“We need to find some place warm Tone, or our bodies are gonna go offline as well.” Breath visible as you spoke, you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“And we leave him here?” Tony looked up at you, trying to deny the fact that cold was getting to him.

“Look we’ll try to find a house, a gas station or something, anything out there and we’ll find a way to bring your precious suit back later okay? The coyotes aren’t gonna attack a pile of metal.”

You pacified him, hoping he would notice your teeth chattering and the fact that knees down, your legs were pretty much unprotected, that he’d take your advice. He did.

…

Both of you kept walking until you came across a timeworn deserted looking cabin with a weak porch light flickering. If it wasn’t for the freezing cold penetrating deep into your muscles making you walk like a robot, you would’ve made a run for it.

Tony turned the main switch on bathing the place in a shady orange-yellow, revealing a mangled lounger, dirty old newspapers covering the entirety of the wooden floor, some pictures on the wall and a heater. Thank heavens for that.

“God bless there’s a radiator.” You managed to say, before tip toeing inside.

“Now pray it works, that thing looks ancient.” Tony closed the door behind him gingerly, rubbing his hands together.

You pushed the knob and the radiator whirred to life making you sigh happily. The back window had sizable crack in the glass which was letting the unyielding icy blasts of wind inside. Removing your blazer, you shoved it to close the gap going with the only immediate solution to the problem.

“Come here.” Tony wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up. The ache in your body and legs became apparent the longer you stayed in the embrace.

Almost sensing it, he walked you towards the dirty couch and took a seat still holding you close, a cloud of dust emerging as you sat.

“I’m sorry I lead us here, in the middle of nowhere.” Tony quietly admitted.

“Perils of being with a superhero I guess.” You teased, making him snigger.

The wind was raging at this point, making the window rattle threateningly. As tired as you were, you couldn’t wait to get his suit back online and get the hell outta this place.

“Alright, I’m gonna find a cable or something. Help me will ya?” you rolled your eyes as you both began searching for one.

To your luck, you found a small yet sturdy looking rope underneath some newspapers. Right as you bent to pick it up, the fuse sparked and the house was doused in darkness.

“Fuck!”

“Hand me the rope, you stay here, I’ll go and—” Tony began but you interrupted him.

“If you think you’re leaving me all alone in this fucking cabin, you’re sadly mistaken Stark.”

Even in the darkness, Tony could make out you crossing your arms over your chest giving him the ‘I-could-kill-you’ look. Resigning to his fate, he sat cross-legged on the floor, soon joined by you.

“I’m hungry.” You sighed after a few moments of silence. Hearing him shuffle around his sweat pockets, you could make out a silhouette of a small bag.

“Blueberries?”

“You just happen to carry blueberries in your pocket?” bewildered, you raised your eyebrows at him in the dark.

“Look, do you want it or not?”

…

Temperature inside the room was somewhat bearable, whatever little the heater had managed to generate was sufficient. Faint, distinct howling sounds reached your ears in the night, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up, as you automatically shifted closer to Tony.

“Oh fuck me.” You muttered as the howls grew louder.

Tony – who you thought was fast asleep, made you shift so you could sit in his lap straddling him, your skirt riding up your thighs in the process.

Contemplating ways of passing time, your hands went around his neck, “Do you know how to fight coyotes?”

“No. But I know I can take your mind off it.”

Pleased that he was on the same thinking plane, you leaned in to kiss him. He winced a little when you deepened the kiss and your nose brushed against his.

“I’m sorry Tony, your nose—”

“Couldn’t care less.”

He muttered in between kisses, pulling your body flush against his. He traced your lips with his tongue and you willingly opened your mouth, gripping the ends of his hair in your fingers.

Trailing wet kisses down your neck, his hands groped at your breasts through the thin fabric of your blouse, nipples hardening at his touch. Your gasp echoed in the room, as he sucked at your pulse point. You felt Tony’s erection tenting in the sweats, making you roll your hips against him earning a grunt.

Bunching your skirt around your waist hastily, he stroked you through your soaked panties making you whimper. Your own hands worked on freeing his cock from its barriers.

Pushing your panties to one side, he wasted no time in lifting your hips and lowering you onto him in one swift motion. A collective groan contrasted against the silent night.

Resuming to devour his mouth, you began moving, slowly at first but picked up speed when his hands dug at your hips.

Leaning back, you placed your hand on the floor only to retract when it landed on something that made a crunching sound.

“Baby that was the packet of blueberries.” Tony laughed, making you relax and resume your actions.

Maybe it was the excitement and adrenaline but you found your climax approach quicker than usual, already feeling the coil in your belly threatening to snap. Tony met your thrusts halfway, making you moan and hold onto his shoulders as your orgasm crashed over you.

Feeling your walls flutter around his cock, his hips faltered and he too, came with a loud groan, face buried in your hair.

Carefully getting off him, you straightened out your clothes and snuggled to his side, closing your eyes.

“This has to be the dirtiest place we’ve had sex in.” you mumbled quietly.

“Honey, I think you’re forgetting about that shady motel in Nevada.”

...

Fall Prompts Masterlist

#tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark oneshot #tony stark imagine #fall prompts #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #my writing #mostly marvel musings #send me requests

[jilonie]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙋𝙊𝙉

Jungkook X Y/N

•Future Smut / chapters / love /mafia au /heartless jungkook /love&hate/ romance

𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨:) 𝙞𝙢 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙧 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙. 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜💘

sneak peak:

“𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘠/𝘕 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸- 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘯.” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳. “𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

CHAPTER 1

You were walking. Fast; Really fast. All you could see was black. A darker black than the cloth that covered your eyes. hands. Harsh hands; 6 hands locked on your arms and on your shoulders that you knew would’ve created purple-greenish spots that would hurt like hell. You realized you were in a tunnel speeding through the unknown. Echoes of their keys dangling with one another combined with the never ending tapping of their footsteps irritated your ears. As soon as you lightly shook your head and sighed in exhaustion, you felt a hand against your head violently grabbing a pile of your hair and forcing your head to face forward. “we’re almost there please stay with me” he said. You didn’t know who it was. He sounded soft yet hungry; it was a husky voice that filled your ears and hit every nerve. He sounded rather trustworthy. Rather maybe safe.

Eyesight was still forbidden. Hot air hit your skin at an instant, sending vibrations of satisfaction down your spine as you entered a room and finally stopped.

“I wanna see.” a delicate sound escaped your lips and they knew you weren’t like the others. You weren’t scared of anything; in fact, it amused you.

“Fuck, how is she like this?” one of the men whispered to the other.

“Boss told us she’s a power house. He needs her.” he answered failing to make sure you couldn’t hear. Your red lips turned into a smirk as soon as they placed you on a chair; dead silence filled the room as you waited for the Boss. Strands of hair caressed your cheeks as you waited.

Suddenly rays of light became one with your eyes and he became visible to you. It was the mafia boss. The king of darkness. He was unbeatable; nobody dared to speak of him, steal nor go against. He was quite formally dressed; a serious looking man yet dangerous scars covered the left side of his face creating maps of pathways into the depths of his fearless soul. He scanned your face in surprise of how beautiful you looked. He kneeled in-front of you placing his tattooed hands on the arms of your chair.

“Y/N,” he took a long pause as he tilted his head not breaking the eye contact with his eyes piercing into yours. A painful tint of exhilaration stormed inside you. “You’ll be training with my secret weapon. His name is Jungkook;” he continued, “You know why you’re here young Y/N. Don’t let me down.”

You grew up in the black money, drugs, fame and most of all risk. Your father was the original boss of the mafia. The man even god feared. Lee Keith known as ‘The Boss’, was his right hand man he always relied on. Your father knew you’ve always had this burning flame inside you since the days you smiled as you watched his men kill people; you showed no weakness. As you got older you were the seducer. You’d tend to make the other gangs you’re father was against, gain your trust and told you all their plans and secrets. You were a magical power with eyes darker than the demon but face so irresistible, so stunning; you were a stamp in their memory, difficult for them to forget you.

When your father was killed, your mother took you and ran away from everything and everyone for a good 5 years. You had to be somewhere safe since your protector was dead and all gangs in the dark world your father had beaten, knew you and would die to have you. Until your mafia found you again. You were home.

“Take me to Jungkook.” You spoke in pure confidence even though you knew nothing about him. You had never seen his face however during the fights you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He fought so elegantly yet dangerously; he’d kill numerous people in a matter of seconds and get out with one or two scratches. He’d always wear his mask, even inside the mafia. His face was a mystery; a mystery you wanted to solve.

They dressed you with a mask similar to Jungkooks, black sleeveless top that hugged your silhouette, baggy pants and boots, hair half up half down , purple hair tie paired with fighting gloves. You walked up to the disguised fighter. He was taller than you. Your eyes darted on his arms; his arms exposed of how much he worked out yet the outline of his scars scattered around them were concealed with his tight armor, but still popped out. You noticed a small “Jk” written on the left side of his clothing. He was masked. Your masks became a barrier between both of you. Your only source were your pair of eyes .

“So your the girl the boss has been bragging about?” he said. He sounded rough; a rough angelic voice you don’t hear everyday. You crossed your arms,

“So you’re the Jungkook secret weapon thing right?” You answered.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and cracked his slender fingers looking at you in amusement. “Okay princess; cut the attitude.” he rustled. You stepped closer towards him and whispered as his eyes scanned your ones. You made him nervous.

“make me.” He liked that. You made the blood in his veins rush in adrenaline of pure euphoria. He saw you as a challenge. He wanted to make you just like him.

“ I wanna see you fight.” the tone of his voice darkened.

“I wanna see your face.” You answered back causing your mask to change shape as you smiled. He laughed shaking his head in irony as he stretched his arm exposing his sculpted biceps that led your mind to a whole new world of pleasuring thoughts about him. “Who made you think your that special love?” he answered.

You tapped his nose with your gloved finger, “Oh i am.”

You both trained like animals for a month, restless. You trained with other fighters but you both exchanged looks here and there. You could feel rays of energy blossom inside you whenever he watched you fight. It’s funny how much of an impact he had on you. The thing was, that it was two sided. He impressed you and he knew it; whenever you were around he’d do some flips kicks and tricks in hopes of catching your attention.

Your break had just started after a long session of fights and shooting. you panted so hard sweat was dripping down your pink cheeks. Your vision blurred and your head spun but you could see him coming. That was the first time in a whole week that he’d approach you; his silhouette started running towards you faster and faster as ur sight faded gradually.

“Jung-“ was the only word in your mind as you couldn’t feel your legs anymore.

“Y/N” Jungkook shouted as you felt his hands catching you; then, blank.

You woke up. Laying on a bed. All your eyes processed was the white ceiling. Your head felt like someone banged it on the ground about 100 times; It was logical considering the amount of times you got hit. But you were the best out of everyone except him. Your eyes adjusted to the world as you slowly picked yourself to a sitting position. You were alone. Theres was only a bed, a first aid kit and you.

You couldn’t stop thinking of him touching you as you collapsed even though you felt it for only a split second. His touch felt different from anything else that ever came in contact with your skin. You didn’t know why you felt that way and it killed you; he was the one who broke your stone wall of emotions. He was the weakness. As you sat there you could feel a breeze on your face. You panicked; the mask. Where was it and why isn’t it on you. You touched your bare face missing the feeling of not being trapped around a cloth for the whole day.

The door slammed opened as Jungkook rushed inside in agony looking to see if you were ok. But why did he care? He froze and studied ever corner every angle ever perfect imperfection of your beautiful face with wide eyes. He stood there just looking at you when you felt insecure and looked down breaking the intense contact. You felt your heart in your throat and fireworks blasting in your stomach from what you were experiencing and with who it was.

“Y/N,” he paused as he stood 5 feet away from you watching you sit there on the bed without your mask. He cleared his throat and shook his head trying his best to swallow every feeling, every letter of your name every aspect of you. He took a deep breath and continued as you watched in shock,

“you should continue practicing, you have 10 minutes to get your head straight.” He turned around ready to leave as he displayed his v shaped back to you sending questions in your mind of how would it look like without the cloth on top.

“Jungkook!” Your innocent voice found the courage to flow. He stopped still his back facing you; you didn’t know what to expect. He shook his head and you sat there observing in anxiousness.

“Fuck Y/N don’t say that” He said softly.

“Why? Why are you being like this. I fucking don’t know what it is about you i haven’t even seen your face and-“ You gave up. You felt weaker and weaker as you spoke; even embarrassed. He sighed loudly placing his hands behind his head as if he gave up on everything.

“I know i’m gonna regret this later but i can’t fucking help it.” he said as he walked towards you. He took his mask off and slammed his lips onto yours. A world of breathtaking feelings grew inside you in a matter of seconds as he guided his hands through your hair. Your hearts beating like wild animals trying to break out of your chests.

The world stopped and the barrier exploded in the most beautiful way none of you ever expected. He needed your kiss; he kept kissing you, and you kept letting him to. Finally the kiss broke and you looked at him. He was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. It was a wild beauty. His darkness was only in his eyes yet his face was delicate. His brown hair fell perfectly on his eyes caging the shimmer of his universe which consisted of all shades of black but all kinda of the brightest stars. His jaw a knife and his lips your drug. He still held on to your hair in elegance,

“Please, please don’t stop” You whispered as your voice broke.

“ From the moment i fucking saw you that first time i couldn’t stop thinking about you. You fucking mess me up Y/N and i don’t even know you.” he explained while caressing your cheek with his warm thumb. “Whenever your around you fuck me up; the only thing i think about is you Y/N and how- how you’d look in my arms every night without that stupid mask on.” he searched your eyes desperately trying to find an answer.

“Jungkook we cant be together.” Your eyes were tearing waterfalls as glistening dots of water ran in pain.

“I know.” he sighed his eyes not leaving your lips. You both knew it was forbidden to be together in the mafia. Rules were feelings not to exist what so ever for whatever reason. He kissed you again. The sensation drilled down your spine only by the feeling of his hands on you. Lips against yours. Anything that was Jungkook was your desire. He released your hair and stood up in defeat. His eyes drowned in the worst waters of his storm of emotions. You felt a knife piercing its way down your throat. He was still looking down at you as he spoke

“Practice starts in 10” His voice shaking as he forced these words out of him. He wore his mask and walked out of the room. Your stomach crumbled; Love turned into sorrow. The secret weapon broken.

CHAPTER 2

Your eyes pinned on the door that Jungkook exited from. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t move but your heart said otherwise. It spat strong bullets of blood into your veins and caused tears to fall so quickly you felt like you were drowning in your own pain. Was it because its him, or the fact that it ended just like that? Your mind was nothing but blank. It was either blank or his name.

You swore you couldn’t feel your feet dangling from the bed. It was as if he’d already taken a part of you with him from the moment he placed those soft lips on yours 3 minutes ago. That fire everyone admired about you, that fire that everyone envied about you, blew out because of this boy and the barrier he destroyed that nobody ever could even if they had the best weapons or the longest time in the world. You picked yourself up as your hands tried their best to wipe away the tears and conceal the pain.

You just stood there in silence. The only sound alive, was the sound of your delicate breath trembling as you inhaled and exhaled in hopes of calming yourself down. You started walking out the door, fighting anything in your mind that wanted to stop you from doing so. The scene where he took off his mask and revealed his incredibly handsome face was replayed in your mind on a big screen as if it was something everyone had to see, but in reality it was only for you. He wanted to do this only for you; he took it off only for you.

You felt your legs weaken which made you almost too certain that you wouldn’t make it until the practice room without bursting into tears. You finally spotted the door for the room in the distance and you stopped. You knew he was in there wearing his mask as a shield to hide his pain and not his face. The thought of this made a tint of lightning trail down your spine in the worst way possible.

Your eyes scanned fighters that went in and out the practice room. Each one stopped to look at you for more than a second which reminded you that your mask was missing. You lacked your shield of pain; you lacked the only thing you had left to cover up the mess. You rubbed your arm in nervousness as you found the courage to start heading for the room.

The door was slightly open and you could see fighters of all kind, being occupied with trainers everywhere. That was your chance to get in without anyone noticing and you took it. You trotted inside your eyes fixed on your trainer. You let your long brown hair down in hopes of covering your face that failed to do so.

“Y/N you’re extremely late..” The trainer hissed as his neck vain literally popped out. He was big and his muscles were like big unbreakable mountain rocks that looked even more fearsome with his missing eye.

“I- i’m so sorry, i was just um-“, you stuttered as you struggled to get rid of the idea that Jungkook was there.

“Where is your mask?” he interrupted you, eyeing you as if he’d never seen a beautiful face in a long time. You looked at him with wide eyes; The tension was at its max as you felt a burn trail down your throat.

“I don’t know” you answered while touching the space of your face where your mask was supposed to be. He shook his head in disappointment as he grabbed your hand. It was a grab identical to the one you felt when they held you that first time. You knew he was the one who admired you. He chose to train you.

“Fighters gather round and sit in a circle,” He roared so powerfully you could feel the floor almost vibrate. A sea of masked men covered in black, forming a big circle while having their eyes flaming in hunger was enough to make your fingers tingle in exhilaration. The atmosphere was intense and all 50 pairs of eyes were darted on you.

“You all know Y/N,” Your trainer announced leaving you in a maze of pure confusion. Your heart dropped as you raised your eyebrows looking at him in fright.

“Weapon, step forward.” He continued. Everyone gasped silently as they knew he’d put you up against the Weapon; You felt your lungs and heart igniting altogether as you processed his name. A patch of fighters slightly moved to the side to let him pass through as you darted your vision in that area. You could feel heat boiling up inside you as he stepped forward; he was a dot inside the circle, you were the one he’d have to fight.

You parted your lips in disbelief and looked at him right in the eyes, as you always did before you unraveled his face; It was you and him as everyone else sat around you. He traced you everywhere. His eyes sped in all directions of your body. His red double glazed glistening eyes full of pain were too exhausted to fight, yet the choice wasn’t his and definitely not yours.

“SET, FIGHT” The trainer shouted, his voice echoing ringing a bell in your mind as you took position immediately trying to make yourself think the one standing opposite you isn’t the boy you love. Jungkook took a deep breath and whispered just enough for nobody to hear,

“Come on love, show me that fire that i love about you.” You kicked, he grabbed; you spun, he avoided. You kept on fighting and fighting as if you were worst enemies. He couldn’t beat you easily as you fought just like him. Identical to him. Two flames intertwining causing a deadly fire; That was your connection. He grunted in surprise and growled in difficulty as you tried your best to fight him. Not because you wanted, but because he asked for it. All the fighters stared at your every move intensely, rather impressed of your power against Jungkook. You could hear nothing but the sound of needles digging through your ears yet you strongly felt Jungkooks hands grab every action you did.

You loved it. You loved the pain he opposed on you. It was a burning feeling of euphoria, too strange to explain. He grabbed your legs and pulled as you fell on your back, next thing you knew he sat on top of you pinning your arms on each side as his face was a thread away from yours. His wet hair acted as curtains in-front of his eyes. The heat from his body felt hot on your skin as you panted in need for air; or him. The thought that he was on top of you at that moment made your world flip and his mind freeze. His eyes not leaving your exposed lips.

“Fuck i can’t hide it,i want you,” he growled silently as he held your hands even tighter.

“i- i want you” you mouthed as he picked up each word that escaped your lips.

“Jungkook won this round” Your trainer said as Jungkook got up, shattering the contact between your bodies. He stood and looked at you as you were laying down below him. He couldn’t take the thought that je might’ve hurt you physically after the fight.

“God what did i do to deserve her.” he mumbled on the cloth trapping his lips as he slowly pushed back the hair in his face revealing his perfect eyebrows. He keeps touching you with those eyes but nothing else. He can’t do anything else. Suddenly he got dragged from your vision. The chemistry between you two was so vivid, your trainer grabbed Jungkook and took him further away to talk in private. You panted looking around the room as one of the other fighters approached you to help you get up.

He held his gloved hand out. You noticed a tint of his pale white skin being exposed between the end of his shirt and the beginning of the glove. You placed your hand on his and he pulled you on your feet elegantly. Rose petals fell from your cheeks and covered your body with something that feels like trust. His eyes took over yours as he gazed at your unmasked self. Naked exposed face all for himself. His eyes led to a mysterious ocean filled with whole new blacks and blues. A different beautiful from Jungkooks.

“I refuse to believe how good you are at this.” His voice so seductively soft, impossible to exist. He seemed to be an angel in disguise.

“Thanks” You answered. You flashed an innocent smile as you were about to leave, however he touched your arm and interrupted as you,

“Im Jimin by the way”. His grip felt warm, soft, heavenly.

“I’m Y/N” immediately escaped from your lips.

“i-i know” he sighed; he sounded rather hopeless as he walked away before you had the chance to say anything.

You stood in place rubbing the bruises Jungkook sprinkled all over your arms. A soft smile was formed on your face cause you knew the bruises were left on you as love bites from him. You felt it. Your tight armor was slightly ripped revealing your belly button. You did fight like lions.

Everyone was occupied practicing non stop as you sat against the wall, your legs exhausted and lips dry in need for some life. Faces of nurses dressed in green, on top of you checking you; mending you. You could feel them chatting quickly as they wrapped a wound on your leg in such speed yet smoothly since they do this nearly every 2 hours.

You rested your head on the wall and tilted it to the left as a nerve in your eye identify Jungkook right away. You couldnt resist the attraction even if you tried to swallow every piece of it. He was quite far away yet close. The trainer was talking to him yet his attention was on you. The doors to his soul were concentrated on to you as you could feel your trainer telling him something serious yet you couldnt make up what he was saying. You crossed your eyebrows in heavy concern as Jungkooks expression changed to the worse.

He glared at the ground in immense fright as your trainer started poking at his shoulder harshly. Your stomach dropped 5 stories down and your legs became numb. What was happening? What have they found out? You tried your best to focus on them as your vision became uncontrollably watery. Next thing you knew Jungkook stormed out and banged the door.

•••

2:32 am and you tossed on your bed. Your room. Number 97. It was the newest room made just for you yet rather small. Sleep was against you and the moon wasnt sinking in the ocean any time soon. The only source of light was the lamp next to you but nothing much. It was just enough to process where you were.

“Get out of my fucking mind” You whispered in desperation as you could feel your mind travel from each imperfection to every perfection of him. It was torture for you. You forced a tattoo of the letters ‘cant be together’ on each layer of your brain, but even that wasnt strong enough. Nothing was. Your face met with the palm of your hands and exhaled in exhaustion as you sank in your pillow waiting for the moon to enchant you to sleep.

Torture.

Your door handle twitching was what broke the silence. You shrugged in panic as your covers hugged your legs but he managed to get in. A tall figure was approaching you as your instinct made you throw a punch, yet your mind and eyes failed to process the fast encounter. He grabbed your hand and covered your mouth with his other hand. A familiar touch. You felt an army of sharp knifes break through your spine in a time span of 2 seconds as he held you in place.

“Hey hey princess it’s me, it’s Jungkook” Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and created his features in your mind as you had bare faced Jungkook a thread away from you. His soft voice stroked your ears as your heart lifted causing your body to fall into his arms. His hands shaking as he held your face finally having your lips onto his. The world stopped; you both found home. His hands explored you everywhere as you swathed your arms around his long neck, kissing as if that was it. As if forever wasnt an option. He broke the kiss as you leaned in for more, both lost in eachothers hearts as if everyone else in world disappeared.

“Y/N,” he muted his tone as he placed his forehead on to yours,

“ Your trainer know what’s going on but i dont fucking care. I really don’t, i only want you. Just thinking about your touch drives me insane i-“ he shook his head left and right as he spoke as if he just let out everything he ever felt, he knew it was a sin for the mafia. He sold his soul.

The weapon bloomed into a magnificent rose consisting of breathtaking reds and pinks yet filled with deadly thorns. You hunted in his eyes as you touched his cheek

“I dont know what to do Jungkook i really dont. How about we act like-like we dont know eachother or-“ you tried to come up with something as his eyes reflected hope, he wanted this; he yearned you.

“ Ill do anything literally anything, but fuck ill miss my fingers in your perfect fucking hair.” Before you could even answer you felt his lips mark sloppy kisses on your neck as you lolled your head back feeling every nerve of your body boil in pleasure.

“Jungkook i-“ You forgot how to speak as you held on to his shredded arms. Those sinewy arms of his, left you breathless only by the thought of them on you; You felt his muscles clench and unclench as he grabbed your waist tightly. You lost it. you wanted him.

“Y/N im not gonna leave you, ever, i promise on my fucking life.” he kissed you again and again

“Please dont leave me” You panted. Your heaven stopped as you felt the absence of his body from yours. The door was wide open and 4 people grabbed him dragging him out of your room. Panic.

“Y/N” he roared as his powerful outline fought for freedom. “OH MY GOD NO JUNGKOOK” You cried as you were held in place by 4 hands caging your every source of movement.

“Boss was right, inject her” a voice pierced your eardrum and destroyed every grain of hope.

“What are you doing to me? Where the fuck are you taking him?” You unstoppably struggled to break away from them as they held you even tighter. A voice from behind you awakened

“To you? Nothing. But Weapon, you’ll find out sooner or later.” You felt your heart split with the strongest most unbreakable sword not even God could control. Yet again, you went blank.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts #mafia au #jungkook mafia au #bangtan #jeon jungguk #kookie #taehyung #park jimin #bts smut

[jincherie]

fox rain | five

• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au ��� ☽ — words: 9.9k+ • ☽ — rating: sfw • ☽ — warnings: stop two on the angst train express!!! not as blatant, more reading between the lines here...... have fun! • ☽ — notes: bros... it’s only downhill from here. cowa-fucking-BUNGA amirite cowboys???????!?!?

— posted; 18.09.2020

When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

— • masterpost | prev. | five | next • —

You lay in a sort of placid, bewildered shock, the kind that is sourced from confusion as opposed to an unpleasant surprise. After waking to blearily turn off your alarm before it blasted through the entirety of Dancing Lasha Tumbai, you’d unlocked your phone to find this curious set of messages from a number you haven’t saved. You’ve been lying in place for several minutes as your tired, wired brain slowly kicks into gear and attempts to debunk the mystery. After another unsuccessful few minutes of staring blankly at the screen, you’re saved from impending cranial combustion when your phone lets out a delightful little tinkle and another message hastily joins the others.  

Ah, that makes so much sense now! Except it doesn’t. Actually, it kind of adds to your bewilderment. Taehyung… is texting you? You don’t think you’ve ever in your life had any correspondence with him that didn’t either take place in the presence of Jimin or under the influence of alcohol… also in the presence of Jimin, now that you think of it. You haven’t really interacted with Taehyung outside of Jimin. So it is particularly odd to wake up to a series of messages that are from him, and pertaining to such an odd topic. You’re still so tired you can’t even fathom what would warrant a text from him. Maybe you dropped something at one of your tutoring sessions and Jimin asked him to give it back to you? It would make sense, since after the rollercoaster of a ride the last week has been for him (in particular, the questionable events that took place at the hands of one Kim Seokjin but somehow ended up with Jimin and Hoseok making up? You don’t really understand it but you’re not even going to bother to try to at this point) he has ended up a little preoccupied.

Tapping the screen when your inactivity leads it to go dark, you take a moment to scrounge a response from the empty barrel bottom that is your brain. Once satisfied, you drop your phone onto your bed and flop yourself back to the position you’d been in before your own alarm woke you so rudely. Technically, you don’t have to be up and about for another hour…

With faith that your additional hour of sleep will revive your ability to think, you allow yourself to slip somewhat self-indulgently back into sleep and pass the fuck out like a woman who has spent the night trying to forget.

(Which you are, and did do, except with maybe a little less alcohol than what that sentence implied.)

X     X     X     X

 It has been almost a week since the unfortunate end to that tutoring session on Monday, and while you’ve managed to stay off social media enough that you haven’t triggered yourself by accident in the entirety of that duration, every time you come on campus it’s like for however many steps forward you took, you take double the amount backwards. University students are such gossips! Well, the jobless ones are, anyway. The students that work and study are too busy dragging themselves around campus in a stunning rendition of the undead from various media to be bothered with the latest plot twist in the resident school drama. Which is to say, there has been no twist. The population is still shamelessly up Sera’s ass in the belief that she is the author of the poem, and as has become the norm you find yourself resisting the urge to hunt the bitch down and go in for round two on her face. Surely, your self-control has earnt you the title of a saint by now.

You’re blasting some angsty shit on the way to your music history class and pretending you’re in a music video for some indie band (it’s cathartic, and you will argue that fact to your grave), when you make it a few steps past the entrance to the food court and have the absolute living daylights scared out of you. Thudding footsteps reach you through your earphones and two hands clamp on your shoulders to halt you in place and spin you around like Barbie Ballerina.

“You’re a disgrace!” It’s Seokjin who has halted you in the middle of the hallway, every bit as dramatic as you’d come to expect. “You skipped drama class? And you call yourself an acting major, PSH!”

Yanking your earphones out, you nail the tall, pink-haired idiot with a glare. Very bold of him to be approaching you after you nearly chopped off Lil’ Jinnie barely a few days ago for his bastardous antics. Perhaps he’s getting a bit big for his glittery pink rainboots.

“First of all, will you please listen to me when I tell you I’m not an acting major?” Unfortunately, when you speak your voice comes out more exasperated and less threatening than you intended. “Second of all—very bold of you to be approaching me right now. You’re lucky you escaped with your life, you meddling bastard. You want me to bite the rest of your dick off?”

“You should know by now that I take that as a compliment,” Seokjin sniffs, haughtily, ignoring the latter part of your threat. “And do you know how boring it is for me to crash your class when you’re not even there? No one threatens me like you! It’s getting harder and harder to get it up these days, you know. I need a hit of the good stuff.”

For a moment you’re simply stunned into silence, staring at him and wondering just how and why he seems to have been sent here with the sole mission of making you want to kill him and then yourself. Nothing you could think to say really is enough, so you settle on simply turning and walking away.

Of course, you forgot that no one turns their back on Kim Seokjin and gets away with it.

“YAH!”

You wince—you think he actually just broke a sound barrier, or maybe your eardrums— or both. Seokjin quickly scrambles to place himself in front of you, arms out. His eyes are wide in something you suspect he thinks is a puppy-eyed look, but actually comes across more like he’s trying not to shit himself.

“Promise me you won’t skip drama again!” Seokjin says, pointing a finger at you in borderline accusation. When he doesn’t see your expression budge, he quickly changes tactics. “If not for me, the most charming prince in the story of your life, then at least for Jungkook, that poor virgin—”

You blink, distracted for a moment by what he said. “Wait, Jungkook is in my drama class?”

“’Wait, Jungkook is in my drama class?’” Seokjin repeats in a voice a few octaves higher than your own. “Listen to you, not even knowing who is in your own class. For shame! But have no fear, since you clearly skip so much I will happily extend my generosity and take you under my wing. Tutelage fee starts at $55 with an extra $5 for every question you ask that I don’t know—”

“Do you ever actually hear yourself talk?” you ask, feeling your will to live draining out your ears. “Like, the shit that comes out of your mouth? Do you hear it? Because—wait, are you saying you would charge me for questions that you don’t know the answer to?!”

Seokjin shrugs, “It’s a little unorthodox, I know. But—”

“I would literally be bankrupt! Thousands—no, millions of dollars in debt!” You exclaim, grabbing him by his stupid big shoulders and shaking him about. “Do I look crazy to you?!”

“Oh, what, you think you can do better?!” Seokjin demands, voice wobbling from your shaking. “What’s 2x2?”

“Fucking four!” you wail, releasing him in your despair. You can’t do this, your day only just started and you are not exhausted enough to micronap while he talks like usual. “I’m leaving, don’t follow me. DELETE MY NUMBER.”

“Haha jokes on you!” you hear Seokjin holler from behind you, voice rapidly growing quieter from the speed that you’re powerwalking away. “You never gave me your number!”

You make it to class barely on time due to Seokjin acting as one of the biggest inconveniences in your life, and while you manage to push him from your brain for the duration of it, you wish you could say that is the last time you see him,

It’s probably the fact that you busted his ass being a weirdo with Jimin and Hoseok last week that has him so…. attached this week, you suspect. You’re at your third Seokjin encounter for the day and you’re honestly considering whether you should trip to the campus pharmacy and look for some pepper spray, or maybe an umbrella. Pepper spray would be more effective, but the umbrella…. You can’t argue against the satisfaction it would provide.

You’re trying to sneak your way into a library on the Arts side of campus, one you don’t usually go to, so you can study without worrying about going absolutely batshit insane in the presence of Seokjin. It was hard, but you think that you’ve finally managed to shake him. What on earth had him so determined to tail you today? Was it seriously because you skipped your own class? Nutcase.

You peek your head around the corner looking not only for Seokjin, but for another thing you had happened to notice every time you were ambushed. You have yet to determine whether the glimpse of phenomenally bright floral print right before Seokjin pounces you is causation or correlation, and it makes you a bit nervous. Cautiously, like timid forest animal, you creep around the corner and begin to make your way into the building, eyes flicking from the library door right at the end to the rest of your surroundings. The café coming up on your right tempts you greatly, but you know it is too great of a risk. Out in the open, you’d definitely be seen.

This area is almost like a courtyard, an undercover area between three separate buildings. With a looming cement and glass ceiling, though, it feels like a building of its own. The library sits nestled in the corner of the largest building, and although it isn’t very wide, it spans several floors. You plan on going to the highest one and hiding in a corner near a window.

You’re close, so close to reaching the library in fact that you’ve fallen into a false sense of security. By the time you register the sound of pounding footsteps approaching behind you, for the second time today, it’s too late.

“Ah, y/n! Wait!”

Instinctively you prepare to burst into a sprint to get away, but at the last second stop yourself. That doesn’t sound like Seokjin… that sounds like—

“Taehyung?” you ask, turning in surprise as the boy comes to a screeching halt in front of you, bending with his hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath.

“I’ve… been trying….” he huffs, “To talk to you…. all day….. hah…Why are you so….. good at running away?”

He looks absolutely wiped out, cheeks red and sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. You’re just beginning to feel guilty when you notice his shirt, the bright floral print that you literally don’t know anyone else bold enough to wear, and you realise he’s really not lying. Poor Taehyung, just like you he has fallen victim to—

“That Seokjin bastard,” you say, completing a quick scan of the area to make sure the mention of his name didn’t somehow summon him. “He’s been harassing me all day. I’ve had to really up my game. By the way… are you okay? Please breathe… also what did you want to talk to me about?”

Taehyung straightens, eyes closed as he attempts to control his breathing. One of his hands comes to sweep the ashy hair from his face, the ends slightly damp with sweat.

“I’m fine,” he says, sounding slightly like he’s about to pass out. You prepare to take a step forward and catch him if he does, but he opens his eyes in the next second and shoots you a dopey smile. “I’m fine! Apparently just… whoo… really out of shape.”

“Your sacrifice is not in vain,” you say, smiling when he lets out a sudden laugh. Another shaky breath rakes past his lips before he straightens, eyes blinking a little wider. “Ah, right. I was looking for you because, um… you didn’t respond to my text… and I needed to ask you something that’s a little time-sensitive…”

“Your text…” you wrack your brain, sure that you remembered responding to it this morning in bed. Your mouth shifts into a wince, though, when you can recall writing a response, but not actually sending it. “Oh. I am so sorry, I’m an idiot. I was kind of half asleep when you texted, and I swear to god I typed a response but I think I fell asleep again before sending it…”

There is not a shred of accusation on Taehyung’s pleasant features, lips instead slightly curled in a smile. “That’s fine,” he chirps, rocking on the balls of his feet for a moment. “I do it all the time too. I’m just glad I caught you.”

You return his smile, before a thought that had been nagging you earlier returned and you acted on the urge to voice it. “By the way…. How did you get my number?”

Your question seems to be unexpected and, for some reason, flusters him slightly. He reaches to scratch the back of his neck, averting his gaze for a moment. “Uh, Jimin gave it to me. It was for something stupid a while ago but I never needed to use it.”

You raise your brows at what he said, but get the feeling he’s not going to elaborate. Instead, you remain quiet and wait for him to continue his thought from earlier. He shuffles on his feet, returning his gaze to your own. “Anyway, the reason I was trying to catch you all day was because I wanted to ask you something…”

“I know it’s not really any of my business, but I kind of noticed, and Jimin mentioned lightly that things haven’t been, uh…. great for you lately.” He doesn’t even give you time for that statement to sink in amongst your shock, continuing without pause despite the way his cheeks begin to flush, “And, uh, my exhibition is this Friday, and I was gonna go with Jimin but he double-booked himself with Hobi, so now I have no plus-one and I was wondering… if you wanted to go?”

When you simply stand there, dumbfounded, he clears his throat awkwardly, fiddling with the cuffs of his button-down. “To um, you know, take your mind off things… maybe… you don’t have to, of course, but I just thought I would—”

Snapping out of your stupor before he can take back the invitation, you hastily step forward and outstretch your hands. “Oh, no I would love to go! This is really—” you clear your throat, trying to ignore the light sting of your eyes “—sweet of you. I’d like to go, if it’s ok. You’re sure Jimin doesn’t mind…?”

Taehyung seems shocked, and you suspect he might have thought you would turn down the invitation from the way his eyes seem to light up. Have you really been walking around campus looking like that much of a gloomy bitch? You need to check your facial expressions when you get home this afternoon.

“He won’t mind,” he says, waving his hand excitedly. “Great, perfect—um, here is the little info sheet. I’d stay to tell you more but my class actually started a few minutes ago, so…”

“Oh!” you exclaim, taking the sheet from his hand before waving him away. “Go! Go to class! I’m sorry I made you late! Thank you for this, by the way!”

He seems slightly dazed at your enthusiastic thanks and farewell, but he shakes himself out of it and before he goes he sends you a smile that you can’t think of any other way to describe except dazzling. “It’s no problem, y/n. See you then.”

And then he’s off and you’re left standing alone in the pseudo-courtyard, clutching the exhibition pamphlet in your grip. Your eyes sting ever so slightly, and you can’t help but think how kind of sad it is that one person goes out of their way to think of you in the midst of everything you’re dealing with and you’re so touched you’re nearly driven to tears.

Hormones suck and you want a refund.

 X     X     X     X

 Taehyung was right when he said that what he had to ask you was time-sensitive. 

You hadn’t realised it at the time, but Friday was only a few days away— and in the midst of classes, schoolwork, and everything else, those days went fast.  Before you know it, it’s Friday morning and a panicked glance at the pamphlet Taehyung had given you reveals that the exhibition opens officially around 4:30PM. That works out surprisingly well for you, considering your last class ends at three o’clock and you can easily reschedule your session with Hoseok and Jimin. 

There’s a lot about the invitation you haven’t gotten to really dwell on, and that continues to be the case as the day flies before your very eyes. By the time your music theory class comes to an end and you finish scribbling down the last few lines of note from your teacher, the event is even closer than you anticipated. From your recent examination of the pamphlet, you’d found earlier that Taehyung’s exhibition is being held at a small university-sponsored gallery downtown. It shouldn’t take you too long to get there from your house, and on the way home after packing your things, you plot out the route you’re going to take. It’s about a twenty minute trip, as you discover, since there is by some stroke of luck a bus that goes straight there from a street just around the corner from your own. Taking that into account, you should have around forty minutes or so to get ready. 

Considering you’re one of many poor university students populating the area, it’s not often you actually put the effort in to get dressed up. Around these parts, there is a distinct culture of sweat pants and comfortable tops and more often than not a socks-and-slides combo, something you take part in more often than you’d like to admit. Still, you feel that considering the nature of the event you’ve been invited to and what you know of Taehyung’s works, you should probably be putting in much more effort than usual. 

While you might act like a slob sometimes, this isn’t actually a problem— even goblins like you can have a stash of decent clothes somewhere in their cave. Yours happen to be pushed to the back of your closet on hangers that haven’t seen the light of day in months. What can you say? University takes its toll in mysterious ways. 

Standing before your closet, eyes boring into the portion that’s been held in its depths for longer than you can remember, you wonder which way you should go with your outfit. Exhibitions are fancy right? Should you dress it up? Logic says you should, but on the other hand what if you are the only one dressed up? That would be humiliating. You pause for a moment to think about the type of garb you usually see Taehyung in— you have a feeling that he will probably dress the same way tonight. Recalling his bold, avante-garde taste in fashion is about as helpful as one might imagine, but it does comfort you to know that no matter what you choose, most eyes will likely be on him anyway. 

Comforted by that fact, you make up your mind and pull out a set that isn’t too over the top, and won’t make you look like a rat. Once you’ve slipped into those, you freshen up and wash your face, trying to make yourself seem a little bit more alive afterwards and not like you had an 8AM class today. You’re successful, to a degree, but you’re a little tight on time so you can’t really dwell on it. Feeling your stomach rumble as you grab your bag and key, you can only hope that this exhibition has free food.

x — x — x

“Ah, y/n! You’re here! You… you look nice.”

You were so busy staring at the large, shiny building before you that when Taehyung’s voice rings out in greeting, it startles the hell out of you. You don’t even register what he says before you’re pointing with eyes and mouth wide open, “Your exhibition is in there?!”

His expression of surprise melts into one of amusement, a laugh tumbling from deep in his throat. You don’t even notice the way his cheeks are flushed ever so slightly as he meets your gaze.

“Fancy, right?” he says, wagging his brows. “Some loaded alumnus who actually enjoyed his university experience practically donated it to them. So now they use it for, uh… for most exhibitions.”

“For the best ones, you mean,” you say, your grin widening when he scratches the back of his neck, bashful and blushing. “But yeah, damn. I was expecting it to be nice but I wasn’t expecting it to be this nice.”

Taehyung laughed again, clearing his throat. As he takes a moment to collect himself, you let your eyes scan over his form. The second you do so, you feel a foreign flutter in your stomach, heat flushing to your face. There is truly no other way to describe his choice of outfit for today except for painfully boyfriend. Perhaps on anyone else it would look a little less than presentable, but on Taehyung’s model-esque form the loose chestnut pants and an oversized leather jacket over a boldly patterned shirt work wonders. How does he look so effortless yet so…?

If you’d attempted to wear something like that you’d end up looking like the local court jester. Perhaps you should just make peace with the fact that God has favourites and Kim Taehyung is clearly one of them. 

“It, um. It started a few minutes ago, shall we head in?”

Taehyung offers you his arm, a gentlemanly move that completely contrasts the boyish grin on his face. Ignoring the sudden sensations in your abdomen, you make a show of curtsey-ing before you take it, eliciting a laugh from your company as the two of you head to the entrance and the full exhibition experience begins. 

As soon as you enter there is someone by the door, who seems to be at the very least taking note of how many people enter, a table with flyers and booklets beside him. Taehyung parts from you only to move over and grab a few, brandishing them as he returns with a bright grin.

“Here is all the information about the event, madame,” he says, with an extremely exaggerated air of grandeur, presenting one of the flyers with a flourish. You take it, unable to help your soft snort.

“I would have thought I had something better, what with the very artist behind the event accompanying me,” you say, grinning when you see his cheeks turn an endearing pink as he flashes a bright, boxy smile. 

“True,” he returns, folding the other flyer and slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. “You can’t ask a flyer questions in real time. Anything that crosses your mind, you can ask straight to the source.”

“Oh? Then, may I enquire as to what the theme of this exhibition is?” You’re enjoying the playful air that drifts between you now, unable to rid your face of the smile currently displayed on it even if you wanted to.

Taehyung’s eyes flick to you, a lopsided smile tugging his lips to accompany the sly accent to his gaze. “Ah, a tough one right off the bat. I think telling you straight-up would be too easy. Let’s see if you can try to guess it as we walk through.”

You turn to him with an affronted look, having expected him to easily supply you with the answer. Taehyung is a little cheekier than you remember. You snap your mouth shut, cheeks heating when you notice he has offered his arm to you once more. Taking note of the other people in the room walking around in a similar manner, you slip your arm through his and try to ignore the way you feel your ears light on fire.

“Okay, you’re on,” you respond, if a few moments too late. He doesn’t comment on the delay, simply sending you a smile that you can’t quite decipher the emotion behind. You don’t get to dwell before the two of you are off, beginning on your journey through the building and starting on your tour of the exhibition. 

You’d kind of always known that Taehyung was talented, considering he managed to make such a name for himself on campus in such little time with such ease. Hell, he’s well-known enough to have made it onto the list of suspects for the muse of your poem. Still, this knowledge is only compounded the further into the building you go and the more of the exhibition you see. Taehyung is truly talented, the images blown up and displayed on the wall each capturing a certain emotion that you don’t have a name for, yet is so familiar that each time you see a new one it gives you pause. Viewing his works, seeing into this part of him and witnessing this bit of his soul he has bared, you can’t help but feel a slight sense of kinship. 

It’s something that rests in the space between your lungs and diaphragm, something that tickles but also something that aches. You do know this feeling, so familiar yet so out of touch and far from the tip of your mind’s tongue. You do try to guess the theme of the exhibition as you go, throwing out the occasional dumb guess to elicit a laugh— he always laughs, and it always makes you smile— but you don’t quite manage to pin it. 

“The five senses,” you shoot into the dark, standing before an image that has made you stop and stare for a good five minutes now. It’s not quite black and white, and it’s not a particularly unique image— but something about the composition, something about the movement in the two hands that are so close yet so far from actually touching, speaks to that hidden part of you. The way one of the hands simply hangs, unbothered and neutral, but the other, the one slightly closer to the foreground, has fingers ever so slightly outstretched, reaching but never quite committing to the movement and the unspoken consequence of the hinted action. 

Of course, you know the answer even before Taehyung says it. He laughs, hands in his pockets, “Nope, ddaeng.”

“This is hard,” you whine, without much heart behind it. The smile stays on Taehyung’s face.

“Whatever. You’re smart, I know you can guess it. It should be easy, for you.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and you have to turn away so that he doesn’t see your cheeks warm. The two of you had parted when you caught sight of the snacks table; you’d been prepared to abandon him and make a beeline over, but Taehyung had surprised you by marching over himself and coming back with a loaded plate. He’d confessed with a sheepish smile that he hadn’t had lunch, and really you were in no place to judge since you hadn’t either. By this point in your journey, though, the plate is almost empty. There’s only two tiny cupcakes left and you’re letting the rest of the things you scarfed down settle before you go in for more. 

Perhaps it was a little dangerous, coming here with Taehyung. He looks so fine, even while shoving sweets in his mouth, that you spend about the same amount of time looking at him as you do at his artworks. It takes all of your willpower to tear your eyes away every time you catch yourself looking at him and admiring the truly boyfriend fit he has donned for this occasion. Every so often he will simply stand before one of his works, scrutinising it with a fresh perspective and ever-criticising eyes, and the sight of it will make something nameless and foreign well within you. You don’t quite know what to do with it, so you ignore it. Or at least, you try to. 

It feels a little too similar to what you know of yearning. It leaves you confused.

You stop not long after in front of another piece, this time a combination of three images that act as separate snapshots of smaller parts of a larger image. You admire the way he has set it out, revealing not too much but just enough that the viewer gets a sense, a feeling, but isn’t confronted with the message. It allows everyone to take their own sensation from it. You like that a lot about his works— he doesn’t tell people what to feel as they view his images, but merely hints, prompts and nudges. He sets the stage and allows people to take what they need, see whichever bits draw their eye most and spell meaning from elements of their choosing. He’s talented, you find yourself marveling again, so incredibly talented.

But still, you can’t put a finger on what the theme is.

By the time you make your way completely though the exhibition, having doubled back at a few points to look again at a select few of the pictures, you’re still no closer to guessing. It has you deep in your thoughts as you stand outside, waiting for Taehyung to return from thanking one of the guests who had recognised him for coming. 

“Guessed it, yet?”

You turn, pinning him with a look that you hoped didn’t look as dumb as it felt. “Leave it with me,” you say. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

At your words, Taehyung laughs— it’s one of the full-bodied ones you’ve come to enjoy, where he throws his head back a little and shakes his hair back into place after. You have to snap yourself out of it before he catches you staring. 

“I’m sure,” he says, unable to keep the cheeky grin off his face. It does slip ever so slightly though, just for a moment, as you watch a thought cross his features. “By the way…”

You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. You feel an odd combination of at-peace, and unsettled. Holistically, this is the most at-peace and relaxed you’ve been in weeks. However, when you take a moment to tune into the inner machinations that make up your being… something in this exhibition has reached into your insides and fiddled around, moving things where they shouldn’t be and touching things that aren’t meant to be touched. It’s odd, and you acknowledge that it gives you quite a bit of cognitive dissonance. Even so, you’re calm enough that you have no trouble being patient while you wait for Taehyung to continue and say what he seems so nervous to say. 

“Um, I know I initially only asked you about coming here, to the exhibition…” he begins, reaching to rub the back of his neck in what you recognise to be one of his nervous ticks. “But, I actually have these vouchers I won in a competition a while ago for a paint-and-sip session that are about to expire, and I was wondering… would you like to go? Now, I mean. Since they actually kind of expire tomorrow. Unless you’re busy, because if you are that’s—”

You decide to put him out of his flustered misery, reaching to nudge his arm. “Of course, that sounds fun! Plus, you were right the other day; I could really do with the chance to relax. Thank you, for all this. I really appreciate it.”

It takes a second for your words to register, but when they do the most blindingly bright smile spreads across his face; he’s practically beaming at you. 

“Of course,” he says, with barely a moment’s hesitation. “I’m really happy you agreed to come— I’m glad you said yes to the paint-and-sip, too, because it’s one of my favourite places. Come on, let’s get going. If we get there at just the right time, we can get a really good seat, hopefully by the window.”

The journey continues, Taehyung leading you through the city while chatting easily all the while, a stunning twilight cityscape backdrop and the gentle glimmering surface of the river meandering through buildings providing the perfect scenery. If you had a little more faith in your artistic ability, you might try and paint the image you see now; Taehyung in the colours of dusk, soft and natural against the bright lights and harsh lines of the metropolitan landscape. But alas, you aren’t as talented as the man besides you, and you don’t even want to think of how it would turn out if you attempted to paint such a thing. You quickly throw the thought from your mind before it can linger and get up to more trouble than it’s worth. 

“Here we are!” Taehyung’s cheer breaks you out of your stupor, bright smile directed your way once more as he stops in front of a large establishment with long strips of window and a colourfully sewn awning. 

‘Brush & Bar’, the cursive, neon sign reads above the door, flickering between soft pink and peach orange. It’s an interesting aesthetic the place has going on, but when you look over and catch sight of Taehyung once more it suddenly makes sense why he likes it so much. The style of this place is very similar to some of the more outlandish things he tends to model around campus. Before your reverie lets you remain abandoned outside, you hurry to follow after the ashy-haired boy, grabbing the back of his jacket when you almost trip over the door frame. He spares a look over his shoulder to make sure you’re okay before he continues, moving towards the counter and smiling with more charm than you can personally handle at the staff member there. 

It’s a woman, who you suspect is in her mid-thirties, and she is pretty enough that it takes you by surprise when she rolls her eyes heavily at Taehyung’s approach. 

“You again, boy?” she asks, though it sounds more rhetorical than anything and you catch the slightest tinge of humour accenting her words and it soothes your hackles. “Don’t you ever get sick of hanging around here?”

“Nope!” 

She cracks a smile, lines appearing at the edges of her eyes. “Well, I suppose that’s a good thing. We’d miss you an awful lot if you ever stopped showing up here.” Her eyes flick ever so slyly to you, and then back. “Say, is today the day you’re finally gonna make good on those vouchers you won? I know you said you were waiting for the right chance to ask that g—”

“Yes!” Taehyung cuts in loudly, eyes wide and cheeks flushing darkly. “Yes, yep! I brought the vouchers! They do expire tomorrow after all!”

The woman, Bora as you now see from her nametag, simply smiles, something sly about the action intriguing you. Taehyung clears his throat, reaching to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, um… I will use them now. Is the window seat free…?”

Bora nods, a fond curve to her lips now as she rummages around behind the counter and takes the offered vouchers from Taehyung to punch holes in them. “Your favourite spot? Of course. I had a feeling you were coming, too, so I’ve already gone and set it up with some canvases and acrylics.”

She hands the vouchers back, and Taehyung slips them into the pocket of his jacket.  “Paintbrushes and jars are in their usual place, and I know you don’t normally drink while you’re here but if you’d like some tonight just take your order up to Kyungsoo. Oh! And tonight’s special for snacks is tea cakes, so definitely make the most of that. There are some good ones in the display.”

At the mention of food and alcohol, your gaze had already started to wander on its own— you catch sight of the display of cakes and other sweets and feel your mouth water. Ridiculous, since you were kind of full before, but what can you say, you’re a complicated woman. Lots of layers, not unlike an onion. The thought almost makes you snort.

With a gentle nudge to your arm, Taehyung is bringing you back to the present moment and leading you over to the window, where a medium-sized table has been set up with two square canvases and a basket of paint bottles, palettes leaning to the side. Taehyung instructs you to take a seat, informing you with a smile that he’ll grab some paintbrushes and water for the two of you to use. At his suggestion, while he is gone you open up your phone and search for something to paint. Something that’s not too hard and not too easy. Because your skills are… well, they’re not nonexistent but you’re not about to go around tooting your horn in front of someone with actual art skills and talent. Apparently there is usually an image supplied for each night, but Taehyung says it’s not strict and that tonight is one of the nights where all the patrons just have free reign. 

You sort of get distracted part way through the activity, eyes subconsciously seeking Taehyung’s leather jacket amongst the decently filled establishment. It’s really quite nice inside, actually; the walls and general decor are soft and neutral, with pops of colour everywhere that bring each corner and table to life. A lot of the furniture is wooden, natural and polished underneath specks of paint that decorate in layers that tell of time spent well. The lighting is soft with the exception of the bulbs stationed above each table, which are brighter and angled towards where the canvas would be. On one of the walls, the one near the bar, it is completely covered by greenery— vines that, as far as you can tell, aren’t actually fake. A soft, almost jazzy tune filters lightly through the room, complemented by the low hum of chatter and paintbrushes hitting glass. You’re incredibly impressed and, admittedly, you like this place a lot. It has the kind of vibe that just… makes you content. 

“Here we go!” 

You startle at the sound of Taehyung’s low register, looking over to see him placing a bundle of paintbrushes in between the two of you and a jar beside each of your canvases. He takes his seat across from you, smiling brightly. “Did you decide what you want to paint?”

You hum, turning your gaze out the window for a moment to see if it grants you any inspiration— it’s a gorgeous sight, the twilight sky broken by the outline of buildings with glimmering insides, but it doesn’t help much. You don’t know what you want to paint. Of course, there is this big, expanding feeling inside you, the urge to express it somehow filling you to your fingertips, but what do you do with it? You don’t even know its name.

“No,” you answer, reaching for one of the palettes propped up to the side. “But I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll just see where the vibe takes me.”

The smile Taehyung gives you at that is softer than most, and he eagerly follows suit in grabbing a palette and beginning to set it up; he squirts a big dollop of white, blinking at it for a moment as though he hadn’t intended to put that much. “There are some pencils and erasers to the side there, too. I prefer the moldable one.”

You thank him for his advice, before realising as he puts his own pencil ever so lightly to canvas that he hadn’t told you the subject of his painting. “What are you going to paint?”

“A secret,” he says, leaning around the canvas to grin at you. “Since I don’t know what you’re painting. Let’s swap paintings after, though. I do want to see eventually.”

That makes you laugh, but you don’t bother pushing further. A surprise is nice every now and then, you know. So long as it’s not the kind that ruins your life as you know it indefinitely.

But you’re here to have fun and relax, so you’re not going to get into that. You’re not even going to think about it. 

Taehyung clears his throat, catching your attention immediately. “Right, before we start we should probably order. Did you—”

“No need, my boy!”

Two new figures appear at the side of the table, one a youthful man on the shorter side, the other older and plumper with grey beginning to speckle through his hair. The shorter one places two drinks onto the table, colourful cocktails in a generous glass, and the older laughs before placing down two plates, each with a different kind of cake slice situated neatly in the middle.

“On the house,” the man continues, chuckling at the shocked and somewhat flustered look on Taehyung’s face. “You’ve given us a lot of business so don’t even worry about it. Plus, we heard you were finally making the most of those vouchers so… here’s a little something to start the night off well!”

“...Thanks, Mr Kang,” Taehyung finally manages, shooting them a smile that could honestly give Hoseok’s own a run for its money. “You too, Kyungsoo. Do…. do I wanna know what’s in this?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks, a somewhat fearful look on his face. The shorter man shakes his head, thick brows curved in mirth as his lips twitch into a lopsided smile. “Nope. Tastes good though, so you got nothing to worry about.”

You can’t tell whether Taehyung is relieved or concerned, and so step in to save him a moment of reprieve. “Thank you so much— this all looks amazing!”

Happily, the two men soak in your praise. “I assure you,” Mr Kang says, patting his chest proudly. “It tastes as good as it looks.”

Kyungsoo snorts, but doesn’t disagree. He gives the two of you a small smile. “Right, we should be on our way. You two enjoy yourselves, and if you want refills just come let me know.”

Taehyung nods, thanking them again, and then it’s just the two of you once more.

“Well,” he says, licking his lips and reminding you of a puppy as he stares intently at the slice of strawberry crepe cake, decorated with a generous drizzle of syrup and two fresh, sliced strawberries in a dollop of cream beside it. The other one, a coffee-caramel blend you presume from the heavenly aroma reaching your nose, looks just as good but is nowhere near as successful at capturing his attention. “I guess… let’s begin!”

Whether he meant painting or devouring the food, you end up doing a bit of both. Each mouthful of cake that enters your mouth is announced with an explosion of flavour so rich it lingers long after you’ve swallowed the mouthful down. The drinks, too, are delicious. Fruity but not too syrupy or sugary, you suspect Kyungsoo had used spirits and tempered the fruity flavour with a bit of lemon or lime.

You still aren’t really sold on what to paint, but in the meantime you end up sketching out the flowers that sit on the windowsill a little behind Taehyung. They don’t seem too complicated, and if they end up looking terrible you can just smear the canvas with paint and call it abstract. Of course, part of Taehyung’s shoulder cuts the vase off from view so he’s probably going to end up making an unwitting appearance in whatever mess turns up on your canvas. 

Even though neither of you have any idea what Kyungsoo put into those drinks, you’re sure its something strong. Before long the two of you are already giggly, conversation flowing easily as you put paint to canvas and attempt to make something decent. It’s around the time the two of you are almost finishing your drinks that the conversation takes a delightful turn, which consists of Taehyung telling you about his little fluffball, Yeontan.

“Oh my god,” you say, fingers gripping the paintbrush tight as you try to pet the urge to pet a dog that isn’t even here. “He’s so cute! Look at his grumpy little eyebrows!”

Taehyung laughs, having taken a break from painting to show you his dog like a proud parent. He takes his phone back and slips it into his pocket, paint-flecked hand returning to the brush he’d abandoned. “He’s such a smart dog, but he’s also super dumb. Runs into shit all the time. And there was one time that a friend came over and brought a new camera that he hadn’t seen before—”

Taehyung has to pause recounting the story, he starts giggling so hard. It makes you erupt into laughter as well simply because of how contagious the sound is. “He got so mad, he ran in front of me with his little legs and started barking at it like he was trying to protect me. I love that little dog.”

“I love him too and I haven’t even met him,” you giggle, using your pinky (the only finger you’re sure you haven’t gotten paint on yet) to wipe under your eyes. You don’t think you let a tear slip but you’ve been laughing so much you can’t be sure. 

Taehyung beams at you from around his canvas, brush held midair.  “That’s exactly what Jiminie says.”

That gives you pause. “Wait— Jimin hasn’t seen your dog? But you’ve been friends for ages!”

You catch the photographer smiling as he delivers a few soft strokes to his painting, affection hidden in his tone as he responds, “Yeah, a few years. Since… the last? Second last year of high school? Maybe? It was a wild start to the friendship.”

“Wild?” you echo, intrigued. 

“Yeah. What really kick-started our friendship was this one time I came over while Jimin was really upset about something. I can’t remember exactly how it happened but we ended up at some wack university event nearby. It was boring as hell, and somehow we figured the best way to be entertained would be to commit a mild crime and get away with it.”

Once more, the ashy-haired male has to pause his story to get the giggles out of his system, taking the opportunity to sip a little more of his cocktail. You do the same, not one to pass up much of any drink these days. 

“Long story short, he ended up streaking across the field and earning himself a title at the university as ‘mooncheeks’ or something equally dumb and funny, earnt himself a bit of a nude legacy.”

You pause, the alcohol beginning to slow your mind just enough that it takes a little longer for you to connect the dot between his story and something you’d shoved so deep in the back of your mind years ago that you’d almost forgotten it.

“Wait—” you smack your paintbrush down, eyes wide as an accusing finger is thrown his way. “That was— he ran into me on the way back! Oh my god I almost forgot, that was you two?!”

Taehyung erupts into laughter that is an octave or two shy of being too loud, having to place a hand over his chest to brace himself. He’s nodding wordlessly, eyes pinched shut, and it’s probably the alcohol making your eyes blur but for a moment you could almost swear he’s glowing.

“Yeah,” he finally manages to articulate, wiping a stray tear or two from his eyes, sniffling. “It cheered him up, though, so I think it’s worth the potential trauma.”

That makes you laugh, another sip of your drink going down. A lot of the spirits must have settled at the bottom, because this one had a little warmth as it went down. 

The night goes so easily it’s like a dream, the atmosphere and alcohol in combination with Taehyung’s company making you feel much like you did before this whole shitshow, back when it wasn’t so hard to release the tension in your shoulders or to muster a genuine smile. Taehyung happily gets you a few refills, refusing to let you pull out your card— which is probably for the best because you’re not sure where your wallet is and you’re not coordinated enough to look right now.

You’re on the further side of tipsy, teetering on the edge of pleasantly drunk where nothing makes sense but you’re still somewhat coherent, and everything is funny. Taehyung has almost dipped his paintbrushes in his drink instead of the jar a few times, resulting in a long round of laughter and sore stomachs each time. Eventually, you’d moved his drink to the other side of the canvas and he’d offered you a sheepish smile. 

Surprisingly, your painting doesn’t look too bad, either. Currently it has a bit of a blurry, undefined quality to it, but in your current opinion it kind of works for it. Taehyung’s shoulder did end up making a feature and as the two of you talk you find yourself distractedly painting patterns in the ‘leather’, swirls and hearts and hell, even a few triangles. Eventually, you reach the point where you think that you really can’t do anything more to make the painting better in the time you have, so with a contented sigh you place your brush down and instead turn your attention to Taehyung.

Even as he talks to you and wobbles a little in place, he’s still so incredibly focused in his work, in every detail that meets canvas at the direction of his nimple finngertips, that you don’t think you even see his hand shaking while he paints. Which, your hand was— a lot. It’s the main factor responsible for this one squiggly flower stem in particular you can see in your painting.

As you sit there, happily listening and laughing at each anecdote Taehyung offers you about his life, you find your mind wandering a little bit. Back to the exhibition, and the works and even the way you caught him regarding them. You recognise the critical lens that he viewed them through, because it’s one you adopt yourself for your own creations. Something wells in you, an urge to reassure him in case he ever had any doubts about his own talent; you’re far too many drinks in to be in a place where you can stop yourself.

“Taehyung,” you begin softly but seriously, with minimal slur. He doesn’t stop his motions, but you see him pause for the briefest moment before humming in acknowledgement. “Taehyung, I have to tell you…”

You’re figuring out how to best word your impression of his works and his talent, but you must take longer than you thought because Taehyung lets out a soft huff, giving you a smile that you can’t quite decipher.

“Don’t worry,” he says, flicking the paintbrush back to rest the wooden stem on his knuckles. “I already know I’m not the muse. You don’t have to worry about convincing me.”

For a second, all you’re able to do is blink. Taehyung simply goes back to his painting, expression neutral and his soft hum brushing your ears beneath the soft melody floating from the speakers. You realise quickly that you don’t know what to say to that, and that the full implications of his words haven’t really sunk in yet. He must have noticed that you’d been trying to go around and convince all the suspected subjects that they aren’t the muse of the poem… you feel oddly ashamed, for some reason. Your cheeks feel hot, and not just from the alcohol flush.

“Done!”

Taehyung’s voice breaks you from your reverie, his cheery smile greeting you once more. “All finished?”

You nod, offering a smile of your own and taking the opportunity to say what you wanted to earlier. “Yep. I’m excited to see yours, you’re so incredibly talented, Tae.”

His smile turns shy at that, a bashful laugh tumbling from his lips as he does his best to clean up his area. You do the same, standing up for the first time in a while and having to reach out and stabilise yourself on the table so you don’t fall. The drinks hit you a little harder than you first thought!

“Thank you,” he finally mumbles a few moments later, collecting the brushes. “I’m excited to see yours, too.”

You let out a short laugh at that, knowing that whatever you threw onto that canvas isn’t going to be able to hold a candle to what he made.

Quicker than you can keep track of, the two of you finish tidying and then before you know it you’re saying your goodbyes to the staff and stepping outside. You shiver at the unexpected breeze that greets you, people along the other side of the street huddling together. It’s a windy night and the breeze carries a bit of a bite.

“Oh, right,” Taehyung starts in place, offering his canvas to you. “Careful, it might still be a bit wet…”

Somewhat mindlessly, you swap paintings with him, smiling brightly before your gaze is drawn to the side. By nothing but absolute chance, it passes over the line in front of a bar popular with students at your university, and you almost blink and move on before your eyes halt in familiarity. At the hands of nothing but stupid luck, there is someone you recognise over there. Yoongi stands, face indicating a loud complaint before it even leaves his mouth, and there are a few others around him that he seems to be with who are laughing as they wait in line.

Your head feels so messy, like the wind has managed to get inside your skull and fling everything about like leaves on the autumn breeze. You’re so distracted in the moment that you don’t see it as Taehyung follows the direction of your gaze, and his expression drops. When you jerk out of your reverie, it’s just in time to see his eyes flicking from your painting, to his, and then back to you.

You’re about to peek at his painting and fill the silence with a compliment, but he beats you to it. Something is different about his expression, and not just because he’s no longer under the warm light of the paint bar. The glow you’d noticed so easily earlier seems to have dimmed a bit.

“Did you figure out the theme of the exhibition?”

At his question you startle, gaze flicking to the side as you try and figure it out on instinct on the spot. You’d completely forgotten to think about it, and considering you spent about as much time looking at him as you did his works while at the exhibition, you can safely determine you’re still nowhere closer to the answer. “Ah… no.”

As though drawn like a magnet, your gaze ends up over in the direction of Yoongi for the briefest second. You struggle to tear it away.

“It’s anaxiphilia.”

Even through the inebriation slowing your thoughts, his words reach you immediately. It’s as though your heart has turned to stone and dropped straight through your chest. That unspeakable, unknown emotion wells and bubbles within you, swelling to twice, thrice its size and blocking words before they can even reach your throat. Your eyes are on Taehyung again, but his are still centred where yours had been— had he also noticed Yoongi? You didn’t know they knew each other...

“Oh,” you finally manage, swallowing down that nameless sensation. Taehyung’s gaze slowly slides back to you, dark eyes full of so much… something, you think it would take you years to unpack and familiarise yourself with it all. 

For a second, the two of you stand with your gazes locked, both of you too deep in your own thoughts to do anything about it. Taehyung is the one that breaks the spell. 

“Well, it’s getting late, I shouldn’t keep you out any longer… There is a bus stop here, and tons of ubers in the area…” His eyes flick away as he talks but return as he murmurs this last bit, “Thank you for coming today. I hope you had fun.”

“Of course I did,” you rush, finally finding your voice amongst the shambles in your head. “Thank you for inviting me, Tae. I really… I really needed this. Thank you.”

He nods, smiling at you, but you notice it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Please get home safe,” he says, and you nod immediately, making his gaze soften. “See you later.”

“Bye! Thank you again!” you wave, Taehyung turning quick and already a decent way down the street after his farewell. He offers a wave over his shoulder and you catch it just in time before you turn back, gaze unconsciously seeking out the familiar figure across the road. Distantly, you observe that Yoongi is no longer in line for the bar and has switched to the bubble tea place a few stores down.

Taehyung’s exhibition and it’s theme swim through your mind, a sudden impulse welling within you in response that spurs your legs into a motion. You’re about to go across the road in a sudden spurt of something like bravery, but for some indecipherable reason, you stop before you can get more than a few feet. You turn your head, gaze thrown over your shoulder, eyes seeking without an explicit goal in mind.

You catch sight of him just before he rounds the corner and disappears from view— even from the back Taehyung presents a handsome figure, but in the split-second you manage to view him, the most notable things about his retreating form is the slumped curve of his shoulders and the lowered angle of his head. He’s gone before you can blink leaving you for good this time with nothing but your messy head and the one thought that swims to the surface that says after seeing him glow in happiness for the better part of the evening, sadness doesn’t suit him much at all. 

Clutching the painting, your turn back to the front and try and focus on the present for just a minute or two, like whether you’re going to catch a bus or uber it home, but each time you start a new thought it always brings you back to the odd mix of guilt swirling deep in your gut. There’s something else there, the familiar hollow pit of yearning, but for once… you can’t quite tell who it’s for. 

a/n: thank u so much for reading! i really hope it was worth the wait and that you look forward the future parts as fox rain begins to slowly draw to a close!! pls let us know u liked it w a like and rb and screaming in our inboxes is always ALWAYS welcome!! thank u !! love u !! <3

#btsghostie #bts x reader #bts series #bts fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts angst #bts x reader series #bts college au #seokjin angst #yoongi angst #hoseok angst #namjoon angst #jimin angst #taehyung angst #jungkook angst #loveletter au #to all the boys i've loved before inspired #bts crack #bts au #my work #cinnacherie #collab #bros..... zee frothed at the mouth for this chapter #bts smut

[ladykissingfish]

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Nine // Pein (Nagato)

Leader. Never in a million years did Nagato Uzumaki believe he had it in him for be a leader, and especially not one of a group of S-ranked criminals like the ones that comprised his Akatsuki. But perhaps he really wasn’t; after all, save for Konan, none of them had even met him before. All they knew about him was Pein, the body that he animated and controlled through his chakra. Yet despite all he and his group have accomplished, the nagging feeling never leaves him ... that Yahiko would have done a much better job than Nagato. It’s one of the main reasons that Nagato fashioned his main Pein-body after his old friend; to try and infuse some of Yahiko’s wisdom and charisma into his own leadership style. One of the things Yahiko often stressed was the importance of having people around you that you could trust, and depend on. In short - friends. Aside from Konan, Nagato doesn’t truly consider anyone in this organization to be his ‘friend’ ... rather, he’s come to think of the group as a whole of being his family. And apparently families played games with each other, hence why he (as Pein) agrees to this mistletoe game now.

Kisame

“Good evening, Leader.” Kisame was by far one of the more desirable members that Nagato had strived to bring into his group. Mature, experienced with battle and ninjutsu, and one of the fabled Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. In any given situation, in any conflict between members of the group, Kisame will most often be the voice of reason. Nagato chose to pair him with the young but mature beyond his years Itachi, believing they’d have much to learn from one another, and he was correct. Out of all the duos, theirs was probably the most stable (and certainly the least problematic). Despite being both tall and intimidating, the half-shark had a surprisingly gentle, almost shy nature to him when one caught him in a one on one situation, as was the case now. Kisame walks up to Pein but seems unable to take the initiative, so Pein does so himself. He puts one hand on Kisame’s shoulder, leans up slightly, and kisses his cheek. Kisame blushes and grins, before going back to his room for the evening.

Sasori

Unbeknownst to the others, aside from Konan, Sasori is the only member of the Akatsuki that knows that Pein isn’t who (or what) he presents himself to be. After all, spending years hidden inside a puppet body gave one a little leeway into seeing into (or perhaps seeing past) others’ true selves. But Sasori understands Nagato’s need to conceal his real body; in fact, he’s even helped him a few times. He’s travelled with Konan before to meet the actual Nagato, when the latter came down with an illness that Konan wasn’t sure how to treat. Sasori used his extensive knowledge of medical procedures to help Nagato, and since then, the two had become good friends. He also gave him valuable advice (again from his own experience of using chakra to control multiple puppets at once) to Nagato in how to more effectively maneuver his Six Paths of Pein bodies during battle, even helping Nagato to tweak them to better control their movements. Sasori shows Nagato (and ultimately, Pein) the same respect that he would a fellow master puppeteer. He approaches Pein now, in his own body. Pein leans down and kisses his cheek, and the two nod at each other before Sasori returns to his own room.

Itachi

“He murdered his entire clan in one evening.” “Are you sure?” “Well, all but his younger brother. But I’m sure if he ever got the chance —“ Nagato still remembers the conversation he had with Konan, the day before they brought Itachi into the Akatsuki. Nagato had been against it at first, believing that one who could commit such callous atrocities against his own clan and family would no doubt have trouble turning against a group of people that were strangers to him. But Itachi pleasantly surprised Nagato, with how calm, and quiet, and kind he was. He often forgets how young Itachi is, considering he speaks and acts like a man decades older. But still ... there was a sadness that could be felt whenever Itachi was in the room, tangible even to someone who’s “real” body was quite far away, like Nagato’s was. When Itachi comes to him, the Pein body reaches out and pulls the boy into a hug. Itachi seems surprised, but whether out of respect to the leader or because he truly needed it, he lets the embrace happen. The two stand there for longer than seems feasible, until Pein breaks it by gently kissing Itachi’s forehead. Itachi steps back, gives Pein a smile (which turns back the clock even more and makes Itachi seem like a child) and goes back to his room.

Deidara

Nagato felt real, valid concern when bringing the 15 year old Deidara into his group. Besides being the youngest, besides having that volatile temper and wanton pleasure in causing chaos and destruction ... the kid was beautiful. An odd word for a male, perhaps, but it was the most fitting term for him. In the Akatsuki it was more or less made clear that Konan was off-limits in terms of things like that, but Deidara ... with his long silky hair, big blue eyes, soft skin ... what was to stop one (or possibly ALL) of these older (and likely stronger) members from attempting to — but Nagato was lucky, in that everyone exhibited more self-control than he gave them credit for. And pairing him first with the older Sasori and then with the wily Tobi had seemed to be good choices, as well. One taught him maturity, and the other, patience. Although sometimes — “Oi, Leader ... can you talk to Kakuzu for me?” “For what?” “He won’t let me have an advance on my pay, because he says I’m just going to waste it on ‘my stupid clay’, hm!” “I do not interfere with the financial decisions of my treasurer, Deidara.” “But —“ Pein kisses his forehead and says, quietly, “Learn to exercise restraint when it comes to your artistic endeavors, Deidara.” Deidara grumbles as he walks away, and Pein smiles and shakes his head as he watches him go.

Kakuzu

“Pein. No matter what Deidara said to you, you won’t convince me to give him an advance on his pay. That boy is already three weeks into his money, and our budget simply won’t allow —“ “Do not fear, Kakuzu. I don’t intend to step on your toes regarding our finances.” Never in Nagato’s life has he met anybody quite so concerned with money as Kakuzu. He was strict not only with his own money, but every other member’s, as well. While Nagato found this to be a character flaw at first, now, he saw Kakuzu’s thriftiness and frugal tendencies as being a God-send. It was only because of him that they were able to move from hideout to hideout, to put food on the table, to buy clothes and weapons and any number of things that the group needed to survive. But his finance-savvy ways weren’t even the most impressive thing about him; it was the fact that he dealt with Hidan, day in and day out, and had not been driven to madness. The older man walks up to Pein now, lowers his mask, and delivers a light kiss to the cheek. Pein nods and watches as he leaves, noting, as he often did, his cold Kakuzu’s skin is. Nagato can feel it through Pein’s sensors; standing close to Kakuzu is much like standing in front of an open grave. He often felt that he should suggest redesigning Kakuzu’s Akatsuki robe to make it warmer, but Nagato knows that this suggestion would be rapidly rejected.

Zetsu

On the day that it is Pein’s turn under the mistletoe, Zetsu is nowhere to be found. Nagato knows where he is, of course; traveling through the earth at the speed of sound, going to scout out an enemy territory before the Akatsuki makes a move on it. Zetsu and his infiltration skills have helped Nagato countless times in the past, providing valuable intel on targets and mapping out the most problem-free routes for the rest of the group to take on missions. Still, though; there’s something about the plant-man that gave Nagato the slighter touch of unease. Being near Zetsu, even through the barrier of Pein, gave Nagato the feeling of being inches away from a wild animal. Hearing him speak was like listening to a dog that suddenly begins speaking in a human tongue. Nagato is very glad that Pein does not have to kiss this individual, and in fact hopes that his turn will end before Zetsu makes his inevitable return.

Tobi

Tobi, Tobi, Tobi ... such a confusing young man. Such a surprising young man. Many months ago, the Pein-body walked into Tobi’s room to retrieve him for something, and happened to catch him sleeping. Nagato was curious and made his artificial body approach the side of the bed that Tobi’s face was on ... but all Nagato was met with was darkness. A solid, blurred-out black where the boy’s face should have been. Nagato thought that perhaps something was malfunctioning in the Pein body’s ocular region ... but everything else was clear as a bell. Did Tobi have some kind of exterior defense mechanism set into place that would bar Pein, specifically Pein, from seeing his actual face? And if that was the case, then WHY? What exactly was he hiding?? It made Nagato nervous, but he never let this on to Tobi. “Pein-sama, Pein-sama! Is it Tobi’s turn for a kissy?!” Pein nods and Tobi approaches him, slides his mask halfway off ... and again all Pein can make out is blackness. He can feel his cheek being kissed, but his vision doesn’t return to 100% until Tobi’s mask is fully back in place. “Thanks, Pein-sama!”, Tobi says; and is it Nagato’s imagination or is there a touch of smugness to his voice? Well, regardless, the kid is leaving, and a Nagato can put him out of his mind once more.

Hidan

“I’ve had to kiss every single one of you fucks, including the old geezer and the orange idiot. Now I’ve gotta slobber with the boss too?? What’s next; are we are jumping into bed and having a group fuck?!” Nagato hadn’t rolled his eyes in many years (and rolling Pein’s eyes would have been an unbecoming gesture for a leader), but hearing Hidan speak always made Nagato want to break this self-imposed rule. With his additional bodies, his Rinnegan, his seemingly unlimited chakra and his fabled Uzumaki clan endurance, Nagato considers himself to be an earthbound God. But then this kid, this foul-mouthed violent crusader, comes into the group speaking about HIS God, Lord Jashin, and flaunting his (admittedly enviable) gift of immortality. From the very beginning, Hidan made it clear that offering sacrifices to his God was his main priority; and the kid wasn’t lying. It’s always been Pein’s (Nagato’s) mandate that as long as one completed their assigned mission, then they would be free to do as the my liked in their spare time. But Hidan’s preferred “hobby” left even someone as war-weary and hardened as Nagato feeling a bit queasy, in the pit of his stomach. “Come, Hidan.” Hidan visibly balks at being given an order; but he’s never love hesitated to obey the Leader. He goes to Pein and, after Pein studies his face, receives a kiss on the nose. The gesture is so light and whimsical that it leaves Hidan blushing and flustered, as evidenced by his leaving without uttering a single swear word.

Konan

The kiss between Konan and Pein is ... disappointingly short. Surprising, considering how close the two of them are, and how much Pein seems to care about her. But it’s a very quick forehead peck, and then both Pein and Konan retire to their rooms. The Pein-body shuts down in his own room, but Konan is getting dressed. It’s a somewhat lengthy journey, especially for this time of night, but one Konan is very familiar with. She comes every single day, after all, after everyone else is asleep or preoccupied for the evening. The old cave is so far into the woods, and from the outside seems abandoned, but ... “Nagato? I’m here.” Nagato turns his head and, although he’s happy to see her, can’t help but sigh. “You’re soaking wet.” Konan uses her cloak to wipe her face, telling him it’s not a big deal, just a little drizzle outside... but it is to Nagato. Trapped like this, a prisoner of his body and his hatred and pain ... anybody else would have walked out and left him years ago. But Konan, no matter what, she stayed by his side, and showed him more caring and comfort than Nagato felt he deserved. “I brought you some beef and curry rice tonight,” Konan said, now uncovering a small bowl. “It’s still warm.” She moves into position to feed him, and as she does, she quietly tells him little tidbits about her day. It’s solely through Konan that Nagato has any sense of the outside world at all, or any REAL idea about what the members of the Akatsuki are actually like. And he’s grateful to her. He’s grateful to her for so many — “Konan?” She looks up from where she’d been tidying up. “Yes?” “I’m so sorry.” She stops and looks at him, head tilted. “Sorry? What are you sorry about?” “I’m sorry that you’re not married, I’m sorry that you don’t have children, or a family, I’m sorry that you go from hideout to hideout and village to village and all you see is the same pain we saw when we were kids. And I’m sorry that things are only this way because of me. I couldn’t save Yahiko, and I’m destroying you, and any chance at happiness you could have had. I never meant for things to be this way. I’m —“ but Konan’s arms are around him before he can finish his sentence. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” she mumbles, her voice slightly shaky. “Yahiko dying wasn’t your fault, and my life — my life is full, and despite what you may believe, I’m happy, Nagato. This Akatsuki you’ve created; you’ve done two things. You’re fulfilling Yahiko’s dream, and you’ve given me, US, a family. So stop with this nonsense, okay?” “But I —“, and Konan interrupts him again, this time with a soft kiss on the cheek. Her lips breathe warmth and comfort into his chilled skin. “You’re the most important person on this earth to me, and I love you,” she murmurs as she pulls away, a smile on her face. “But I swear if you don’t cheer up, you’re not getting any of this dessert I made.” A pause, and then, with a smirk reminiscent of the shy boy he once was, “I’ll only cheer up if it’s something I like.” “Strawberry pie.” Nagato gives Konan an even bigger smile, to which she replies “That’s better”; and the two laugh. He feels like a weight has been lifted off of his heart. After dessert, he tries to mentally prepare himself for her leaving again ...but to his surprise she pulls a blanket from her satchel spreading it out neatly along the ground. “You’re staying tonight?” “I’m staying.” “Good. I love you, too, by the way.” “I know.” Before bed she spends a good deal of time gently brushing out his hair, telling him jokes and stories, the same that she used to do with him and Yahiko when they were all children, during those many long, cold nights when hunger or anxiety kept them awake. Neither is present now, but the goodness of the feeling remains the same. After awhile they both fall asleep, and for once their dreams are calm and peaceful.

#under the mistletoe #the akatsuki #kissing #nagato #pein #konan #kisame #itachi #zetsu #deidara #hidan #sasori #tobi #kakuzu #headcanon

[yandere-daydreams]

Hello. I love your blog and saw that requests were open. Can I ask for a Yandere Kuroo with an s/o whose deaf (no offense for deaf people tho) I just think it would be interesting on what goes on Kuroo's head if he ever got a darling who is like that. Thank you

As a rule, I try to make my Yanderes think as little as possible, but I’ll consider making an exception for Kuroo… albeit a small one. He’d just be so possessive, and he seems like the type that wouldn’t even try to justify his actions. Call it a character flaw, but I’d like to think it adds to his charm.

Title: Vulnerability.

TW: Themes of Ablism, Abuse of a Disability, Implied Violence, Mentions of Blood, Unhealthy Relationships, Non-Consensual Touching, and Implied Kidnapping.

~

If Kuroo was a little nicer, he’d probably be a better boyfriend.

Is he your boyfriend? Was he ever your boyfriend? That part was vague in the most amicable parts of your relationship, and it probably didn’t help that he’d never made the effort to straighten out the borders between platonic and romantic, the line he’d crossed from either side so many times, he’d lost count by the time you started holding it against him. He liked to think that deep down, you returned his feelings, even if he knew better than to think that the colors weren’t a little tinted, from your end, that the music wasn’t a little slower, that the game wasn’t a little duller. You had to have some level of fondness for him, in that closed-off, guarded little heart of yours, but he knew it couldn’t have been the same affection he held for you. The same love he held for you, even if you seemed to doubt his sincerity whenever he voiced his endearment.

Oh, fuck it. Who was he kidding?

He wasn’t even sure if he really loved you, anymore.

It probably didn’t help that your companionship (Companionship? Partnership? Association?) got off to such a rocky start. He’d like to think he was observant, especially when he was on the court, but you were just so new, just so unremarkable, and it wasn’t like you could expect him to memorize the face of every person who came in and out of the gym he visited daily. No, he had to wait for a wayward spike to draw your attention, one that was just a little too strong, a little too fast, and managed to nail you in the side of your head as you passed by. Volleyball was a hobby, at that point. He was passionate, but he couldn’t have gone up against Hinata or Bokuto, not well and certainly not elegantly. He wasn’t a professional, and yet, that didn’t stop your nose from making such an ugly cracking sound as the ball made contact, your knees buckling as you divided your attention between scrambling to grab the things you’d dropped and covering your face, neither to much avail. He’d called out, told you to get out of the way as soon as he realized his aim wasn’t quite what it used to be, but at the time, he’d just thought you were a little slow to react. Maybe a little slow in general, considering how long it took you to realize he’d come to help you.

That was the first time Kuroo saw you bleed, the first time he’d had the smallest degree of power over you. That’s not what he called it back then, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been a contributing factor, when he decided to stick around just long enough to get your number.

It made sense to get close to you, didn’t it? It wasn’t like he had a reason not to. You were studying at the same university as him, following similar tracks, and he’d already seen you fighting not to cry as you clung to a red-stained gym towel, so it wasn’t like you’d be able to scare him away. He liked you, liked seeking you out, liked touching your shoulder or letting his hand brush against your neck or slotting himself against your back to feel you go tense and watch you twist around so frantically, only to realize it was just your friend, just Kuroo, just a fun, harmless inside-joke the two of you shared and only he seemed to enjoy. 

It took him longer than he’d like to admit to notice the signs - the hearing-aids, the way you squinted at his lips whenever he spoke too quickly, how you never seemed to answer your phone if you weren’t expecting a call. Partially deafness, you’d said, mostly in your right ear. Due to a childhood accident that’d broken something sensitive and irreparable. You’d said it calmly, casually, as if you didn’t really care. As if you didn’t mind having less of something than he did. As if you didn’t know you were falling short in an area he didn’t have to try to excel in.

As if it didn’t make you vulnerable.

As if it didn’t make you so, so defenseless, compared to him.

Just to be clear, that wasn’t the only thing he liked about you. No, the little hints were nice, they were beautiful, but he liked your smile, too, and your laugh, and he adored how trusting you were, your optimism bordering on naivety, at times. He liked that, even when he was open about his intentions, you were so quick to shrug off his stranger tendencies, to roll your eyes when he rested his hand a little too far up your thigh while studying, to sigh and shake your head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while introducing you to some of his friends, and to give up so easily after he voiced his reluctancy to let you go. You wanted to see the best in him. You wanted to see the best in everyone, even if you acted like you were just too important to care about his jeers and teases. He liked the way your heart speed up when he touched you, how you didn’t even seem to notice his closeness alone was enough to put you on edge. He liked a lot of things about you.

Somewhere down the line, though, he must’ve stepped a little too close to the cliffside. He must’ve finally crossed the one barrier you wouldn’t let him disregard, or left enough cracks in your protective shell for reality to start seeping in, or maybe, you just realized that friends shouldn’t enjoy scaring each other nearly as much as he enjoys scaring you, even if it hardly took a nudge to make you jolt and freeze-up. It was a natural progression, one Kuroo should’ve seen coming. If he kept pushing and pushing and pushing, he was bound to meet resistance. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised it didn’t come sooner, in hindsight.

He can still remember the first time you stood him up. The first time you left him standing outside of the campus library for hours before finally showing your face, just to say that you suddenly weren’t sure if spending so much time around him was a good idea. You were friendly if he approached you, but there was always the underlying tension, that wall of rigid posture and averted eyes that you always would’ve used when he was around, if you know what was good for you. No more study dates, no more early morning chats, no vulnerability, not once you realized why he was so eager to keep you backed into a corner. Not once you realized he might not be as harmless as you’d let yourself believe he was.  

If he was nicer, he would’ve given you space. If he was nicer, he would’ve let it go. If he had any human decency at all, he would’ve walked away and never spoken to you again. That would’ve been the right thing to do. That would’ve been the good thing to do.

It’s a shame he isn’t a very good boyfriend, after all.

It’s clear to him that he should’ve been more proactive from the start. He let you get comfortable, let you adjust to his behavior, and he’s paying the price for it in time, in minutes of his life that felt like they were drawing into days, as they tick by. You’ve been crying since you woke up, sobbing your eyes out behind a soaked, sturdy blindfold, your hearing-aids torn out and your wrists secured behind your back, your ankles given the same treatment twice-over, just in case you found a way to run. There’s a more permant solution than the dirty warehouse you’re lying on the floor of - an apartment on the other side of town, one Kozume had been nice enough to sign onto with only a handful of questions and odd looks - but Kuroo needs to scare you before he can take you home. He needs to do something that won’t be fun for either of you, even if you’ll be the only one screaming.

Despite his better judgment, he’s resigned himself to waiting until you calm down, or until you stop crying, at least. Later on, you might see that for the kindness it is, the mercy he’s choosing to give you, but he doubts you’ll be that rational, right now.

‘Partially’ just won’t do the trick, anymore. You’re still too ungrateful. You’re still too full of yourself. You think you don’t need him, you think you’re better than him, and he’s going to prove you wrong.

He can only hope you won’t hate him when you’re completely his.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere prompt #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere scenario #yandere x y/n #haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #Haikyu!! #yandere haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu imagines #yandere haikyuu!! #yandere haikyuu imagines #hq!! #yandere hq #yandere hq!! #hq #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo x reader #yandere fantasy

[eddiesfaerie]

Softer (part 1)

Summary: Kylo Ren whisks you away to a remote planet to be gentler with you, but he finds it much more difficult than initially planned. (3.3k words)

Warnings: not that much happens lol, nudity, attempted fluff, smut to come in second part! kinda dom kylo and sub reader? f!reader 

Part 2

The sun blinds you as you walk through the trees, its light peaking through the leaves every now and then. You walk through the grass and through the earth, you bare feet relishing in the feeling, its been so long. The trees break away for a moment to reveal a natural path to a body of water just feet out in front of you and Kylo. A smile stretches across your face, calmness washing over you.

You’re alone.

Alone with only Kylo and the water of this pond on a planet in who knows which star system.

You walk closer to the body of water and your feet meet the earth where the ground becomes softer, the water nearing the tips of your toes. The coolness breathing over your skin so lightly that your breath hitches in your throat.

So close.

A hand, warm on the small of your back, breaks your trance as well as your eyes, away from the sparkling, ethereal water, onto an ethereal man himself.

Your Kylo.

His freckled skin seems to glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting the random, natural pattern of the water onto the skin of his face, neck and upper torso, now bare form any clothing. Your breath stops short in your throat and you reach out a hand, tentatively, to touch the white skin that sits underneath the constellations painting his body. Your mouth lays softly agape as your fingertips graze him ever so gently, barely a whisper on top of his skin. You tremble, as does he.

Before you can even properly touch him, your hand retracts from his body and back to your side, bunching up the fabric of your dress near your thigh and lifting it slowly.

Kylo’s eyes dart to your bare skin, eyes trailing, following your movements as you pull your dress up, up, up your body in a swift, graceless movement and onto the ground, on top of his clothing which he had removed with such speed, such haste. 

You reveal nothing, nothing underneath but your form, your naked body. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. Now it’s Kylo’s turn for his breathing to stop short in his throat, for his eyes to dart around, unsure of where to land as he tries to swallow your image whole, burn it into his mind so it never leaves him, never. Your shape, your curves, the way your chest heaves up and down, up and down. Your moles, your freckles, yours scars, all of it.

All of it. He thinks. All mine.

Your cheeks heat up involuntarily, you look down, away from him, away from his massive form. Embarrassed maybe, lustful definitely.

With a mind of its own, your foot retracts back, dipping into the cool water just inches behind you. You swallow the urge to flinch at the water’s coolness. You’ve drowned that familiar desire to flinch at much, much more than the simple cool kiss of the pond; the stroke or the strike of Kylo’s hand as it lands without warning across your skin. Once your foot has settled, your other foot follows instinctually. Step after step until everything below your waist is submerged, making your nipples go taught against your burning skin. You dunk your head in one swift movement, letting the water fall down your body, hopefully to entice Kylo further.

“Little one...” He calls after you. That name. You want to laugh. Your head lulls to the side, a dopey, heavy smile caressing your face and your cheeks. You feel drunk.

“Come in.” You call after him.

You siren, you temptress.

Kylo can only blindly follow the sound of your voice, dumb to your ways, your plans, he would follow you anywhere. And he does, he does, he does.

You watch as the water begins to part for him, swallowing his figure as it did yours and you feel jealousy bubble in you as it touches and holds him in only that way you can. Only you. His muscles sway and contract as he moves further into the water, as you melt further into his gaze, desperate and completely at his mercy.

Please, you hear yourself whisper. Perhaps in your head, maybe out loud, you aren’t entirely sure what you could be pleading for, begging for other than this mountain of a man to come nearer to you, closer to you, to pull you from the depths of this pond and hold you close to him. To save you.

He had brought you here, to this planet, perhaps on a whim. Ever since he met you, he had rid himself of all his other concubines, you would be all he ever needed and he had known that from the moment he laid eyes on you. You were the only one he had ever touched without his usual leather barrier that dressed his hands. The only one he graced with the privilege of seeing his beautiful face, adorned without the mask while he was being intimate with you. The only one he ever needed, no, desired to kiss while he had his way with you. You, you, you.

You were different, he thought. You deserved to be treated differently. That’s where Kylo knew he had to make the effort. Where words failed him, he knew he had to show you how much he cared for you, and break away from his usual, aggressive ways. He brought you here to be gentle, to separate himself from his ship and his life and his place in the galaxy, and focus on being... softer with you.

Soft.

A word so foreign to him he felt as though he could not give a definition of the word if asked to.

He thinks maybe he would say your name.

As he crossed the pond to where you stood, his eyes were dark and colourless as they bore into yours. No light can ever touch them when he's like this, no reflection, no shine, no sparkle, nothing. Nothing. Black holes, swallowing everything that comes near them, inhaling and obliterating the smallest bits of light that even comes close. If you’re the siren, he's the big, dark wave that swallowed you whole and drowned you, that made you like this, so tempting, so delicious, so evil.

It’s his turn now for his hand to come out to graze you, to come close to the event horizon of your body, where no light gets out and where no man can return from. The hair on your body stands on edge where his hand approaches you, mere millimetres from your skin, like its aching, begging to be as close as possible to this man, to have just one part of you touch him, even just briefly.

“Please...” You say again, this time you’re sure it was out loud. “Touch me.”

Kylo hesitates, his hand stopping on the absolute edge. You can feel the energy radiating from his hand, you nearly faint from the proximity and the sheer power that exudes from his body, his aura, his ego, his presence. His eyes look into yours, he tilts his head to the side, taunting you.

How desperate are you really? He seems to ask, almost like you can hear his voice in your head, pretending he isn’t as desperate as you are. But he always has control, always. Your eyes flutter close and your breathing becomes heavy, your chest heaving yet again, the skin of your breast nearly coming into contact with his hand and you want to scream, you want to shout about it.

Completely, you think. Completely, totally, fucking desperate.

You would say that you saw him smirk if your eyes hadn't clamped shut the moment his knuckles came to softly touch the skin of your ribs, directly underneath your breast, grazing them one knuckle at a time, each one, over every rib, tantalizingly slow. You think you moan, whimper, maybe even sob at the gentle stroke of his hand. His eyes dart down to where his hand lays on you, watching as water runs down your body in little rivulets, dancing alongside one another as they fall down the curves of your breast and down your stomach, before they fall back into the sparkling body of water.

Maybe the water is poisoned, Kylo thinks. Why else would he feel so drunk, so light yet so heavy all at once.

One of your hands, idle at your side begins to move, perhaps to grasp onto Kylo’s wrist, maybe to touch his chest, but he’s far too quick and strong and sensed your muscles twitch long before your hand even moved, catching it mid movement before you could touch him. His grip is tight on your skin but you love it. He hesitates for a moment, staring back at you before he slowly brings your wrist up to his mouth and laves his tongue over the thin, paper-like skin, feeling your heartbeat, beat, beat, beat just below the surface. You try not to think about how fragile you must seem to him. How he could end your life without more than a sigh escaping from between his lips from such little exertion it would require on his part. He kisses your heartbeat once, twice, three times; your life quite literally in his hands, and you wouldn't have it any other way. There is no one else in the galaxy that you would trust more with your life than the most dangerous man to ever inhabit it.

“Let me touch you, Kylo.” You beg again, wanting to feel his warm skin underneath yours before your time runs up. You have an hour before you both must return to the ship. Kylo’s head drops as he stares down at the water and away from you for a moment.

“I’m aware of how much time we have.” He says, not in an annoyed way, perhaps he is just tired of your insistent begging, or any reminder of what awaits him when you two get back to the ship; reality, duty, and supremacy. You nod your head understandingly, tilting your head to try to get him to look at you but he keeps his gaze down at the water, watching it ripple in between your two bodies.

It dawns on you that perhaps Kylo Ren is nervous about being… soft. Afraid it might frustrate him to go slower and end up hurting you more than he ever has before, afraid to lash out in an unintended manner.

You test your wrist, pulling on it gently from his grip to see if it loosens and it does, he lets it fall. You slowly bring it up to his face, caressing his cheek, following the scar from the side of his mouth, up, up, up over his face to his eyebrow, and then carding your fingers through his hair. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and you feel the life return to you, finally allowed to touch him. Kylo lets his head drop to your shoulder and in a single movement, tangles his arms around your waist and over your back to hold you to him, your bodies colliding and the water sloshing around like a richotecht of two black holes swallowing each other up to create one angry, unhinged, hungry mess.

He breathes you in, his nose digging into your neck and his rose lips peppering kisses all along your neck, kissing over day old, week old bruises he had left in his wake. He loves to adorn you with them, his bruising kisses. A priceless necklace.

You move your arms to wrap around his shoulders, your hands spreading out over the vast muscles of his strong back, a scorching desert, scratching and teasing the skin there to make him groan into your neck and bite down on an ever-healing bruise causing you to whimper. At the sound alone, Kylo’s hands move from your waist to the underside of your thighs, holding you up against his solid form. You whine and cling to him, his strong thighs carrying the both of you through the water and off to the side.

Not before long, Kylo drops you down gently onto a boulder that sits itself half in the pond and half out, your legs dangling off the side so that they’re still in the water. His large hands wrap around your thighs to part them and make way for his body to rest in between them. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to stop another unnecessary whine from finding its way out as the cold texture of the rock beneath you shocks your bare flesh of your thighs and core, gently scraping against it, a pressure you hadn’t particularly realized you needed.

Kylo is watching you intently, as your face twitches from the cold rustling of the rock against your most sensitive area. He winds his hand through your hair and pulls back, revealing the long expanse of your elegant throat to him and all its beautiful marks that his lips have left in his wake. He takes the briefest moment to admire them, but you can still see his teeth beginning to poke out from underneath his rose petal lips, baring them at you in his usual threatening manner.

“Don’t complain.” He almost sneers, yet a slight smirk dances across your lips. You know he can’t punish you even if you did complain, whine, maybe even cry like you sometimes do. No, there would be no punishments today, no lessons to be learnt, no obedience being taught. Today was about being... softer, and both of you knew that.

Kylo’s hand gently loosens its grip on your hair but he moves it down to your throat, moving to let his thumb trace along the outermost edge of your bottom lip. Your lips automatically part for him, a reflex ingrained in you now after months with him, his body, and his ways.

“Thank you.” You tell him, still not quite sure if he really is nervous or if it’s just your imagination. But you thank him regardless, the thought alone that he wants to be “softer” for you making you too emotional, too sentimental. You press a kiss to his thumb and he sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering close for the briefest moment like a butterfly wing. His fingers twitch around your neck, unsure of what to do next. Maybe you need to guide him a little more.

Show me, you hear his voice in your head. You look at him and his eyes look back into yours like mirrors, maybe you’re nervous too. You ignore the thought, you can lead if it means leading Kylo along the expanse of your body as if he’s never seen, never touched you before. You can lead.

You pull him closer by his hips, his bare length coming to poke against the innermost part of your thigh and you try to ignore it, ignore it for now. There will be time for that back on the ship. Once his body is pressed against yours, your hands run up his chest, nails scratching to leave angry red marks and he suppresses a moan deep in his chest, you feel the rumble on your palms. You think you hear him chanting your name over and over again through his head, like you’re a poison infecting his veins, slowly working your way up to his brain, a slow killer.

You lean forward and dip your tongue out to taste his flesh. It’s salty from his sweat underneath the scorching sun, yet it smells like almonds, it reminds you of home. Your tongue only retracts back into your mouth to gather more saliva before it reaches out for him again, slowly moving across his chest as you spell your name out onto his pecs, one tongue stroke at a time. Before your instincts tell you otherwise, you reach for one of his nipples with your teeth and gently tug on it. 

With a mind of its own, the hand around your throat tightens immensely, pulling you back up to be level with him. Kylo quickly pushes his forehead against yours, holding you to him, his breathing near erratic as he tries to calm his racing heart beat, nostrils flaring with each exhale. You place your hands on his shoulders to keep him from shaking you around too much, his calm demeanor beginning to crack.

You’re not sure if you could classify what you just did to him as trying to get him to submit to you, but there was absolutely no way your Kylo would ever do that in any way, shape or form. At least, not in any manner he would be familiar with.

This would take longer than the two of you had.

“I-... I don’t know if I can…” Kylo begins to say but you shake your head as best as you can with his firm grip still around your throat like a magnificent snake, taunting its meal moments before the slaughter.

I’m yours, you say to him in your mind. You know he’s always listening, you know he hears every moment, every thought, every breath that exists within your being.

Whatever you need to do, I’m yours. You won’t hurt me. Kylo lets out a shaky sigh through parted lips, red with frustration, maybe anger at himself. He pushes his forehead against yours a little harder, trying for some semblance of affection. You smile, you recognize it.

“Thank you.” He says out loud and you almost want to scream, it catches you so off guard. Your mouth surely agape, Kylo nearly chuckles. His thumb finds its way back to your bottom lip, swiping over it before he pulls your bodies somehow closer together to tip your head back and entrap your lips with his. Your core rubs against his abdomen as your legs go to wrap around his waist, the cold rock long having heated up from your rising body temperature like a planet on the edge of explosion.

His tongue shoves its way into your mouth and you want to drown in this, drown in him. His kiss makes you want to forget your name and submit more than you already have to him. He swallows your gasps, your moans… your cries, your sobs. You can feel his hand easing itself from your throat to wipe away the tears that stream across your cheeks before you even realize yourself that you’re crying.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t know why-”

“Little one.” Kylo stops you, his voice sweet. You nod your head fervently. You want to make him laugh again, chuckle at how easily he conjures up your emotions, how easily he makes you fall apart and then thank him for it a million times over only for him to laugh again. You’ll be his puppet, his toy, his pet, his fucking empress if he ever were to ask you such a silly question. You would do anything, anything, anything and you didn’t know how to tell him. No words in any language ever existed to describe any part of how you felt. Kylo watches at your apparent turmoil, he tilts your head back up to look at him, your eyes big, eyelashes wet, and your lips red and puffy from kissing and crying.

So pretty like this.

“Do you remember that word I taught you?” He says instead. You have to think for a moment. The amount of languages this man knows is beyond comprehension and it baffles you every time you hear him mutter something in a tongue you aren’t familiar with.

“Cyar’shebi.” You say after a moment of thought, finally remembering. Kylo chuckles and your heart soars. Proud. Egotistical. He had never told you what the word meant, he had just asked if you were familiar with it and repeated it to you over and over again until you got it right.

“Yes, cyar’shebi.”

Sweet thing.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #reader insert #kylo ren imagine #fluff #kylo x reader #my writing #softer

[ideasihadbutdontlike]

Lost In Time (2)

SUMMARY: This is the prelude to Lost in Time, answering the question, How did the Avengers lose one of their own? 

Word Count: 2,224

The italics is present day for the Avengers. Also this picture is my background lmao. 

Accepting that you were supposed to work with the Avengers was mind boggling. It was weird, and yet not totally out of your element. In a weird way you felt at home here. There were people who could do crazy things, the same way you and others at Camp could.

Right now you were following Strange, Steve, and Tony to the common room. Taking in the advancement in technology made your head hurt. And you wondered if you would remember this when you were sent back. 

"So how exactly did you "lose" me?" You asked, sitting on one of the chairs in the common room. 

"Well," Tony started, stopping to collect himself. The room grew tense with silence. Steve looked angry and sad, and all of that left you feeling uneasy. 

You were so excited; it was your first day off in months. Being an Avenger was extremely time consuming. 

You were practically bouncing off the walls of the compound, you were so excited. You had made plans with Annabeth to go visit Chiron at Camp Half-Blood. Between being a demigod and an Avenger, the Avengers got 98% of your time. It’s not like you were complaining, you were so over being the gods little pawn. Still, you missed your friends and the sentiment of Camp. 

You said a quick farewell to your team as you stepped into the elevator with Annabeth, “Don't get in too much trouble without me!” You called as the doors closed. 

The ride to Long Island was full of laughter and catching up. You haven't really talked to anyone outside of your mom and the Avengers in almost a year. Anyway, Percy and Annabeth decided they were going to get married despite Hera. And you, well you were in New York fighting the battles so no one else had to. Approaching Half-Blood Hill you pulled the car off to the side of the road.

After greeting your old friend Peleus (The dragon that guards the fleece), you stepped through the barrier. The smell of the strawberry fields, the warmth of the sun, the sound of arrows hitting their targets, and swords clashing, kids laughing. It all brought you right back to being a 17 year old half-blood, when nothing was more important than making the most of the summer. The faint music from Apollo cabin drew you in for a second. Looking over at the cabins made your chest bubble with pride. You and your friends, your family even, fought so hard for this. For once, you felt truly at peace standing next to those strawberry fields. You were home, you grew up here, and all at once the weight of your influence stole your breath. You helped rebuild this place, and against all odds you were alive at 30 to appreciate it. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Annabeth said, standing next to you. She was doing the same thing. Reminiscing, allowing her walls to come down in the safe place that is Camp Half-Blood. 

“Yeah,” you laughed breathlessly. “This is amazing.” You looked at her. “Let’s go see Chiron.” You and Annabeth made your way over to the Big House, where Chiron was standing talking to some campers. You guys stood back until he was finished, but their constant glances your way made him turn. 

“Annabeth, Y/N,” He said with a huge smile. “Welcome back!” He turned his attention back to the campers. “Michael, Kya, give these two the full tour. Then bring them to Cabin 11” Chiron said, The two older kids, whom you assimes were counselors, nodded, leading the two smaller boys away. 

“Is it just me or do they look strikingly like Percy?” You whispered to Annabeth. She nodded, looking just as perplexed as you felt. You figured Poseidon was no longer under oath, but you actually weren't expecting him to have any more demigod children. Meanwhile, a glance over at Cabins 1 had you biting your tongue. New campers poured in and  out of Zeus’ cabin which was pretty on brand for Zeus, you thought. 

“Walk with me ladies,” Chiron said. “A lot has changed since you’ve been gone.” So, the two of you walked with Chiron through the mess hall, where dozens of new tables stood. When you walked over to admire the renovated cabins, a boy, not much older than 12 maybe 13 ran up to you. 

“You’re Y/F/N Y/L/N right?” He asked. The kid had sandy brown hair and excited blue eyes.

“I am,” you smiled at him. 

“No way! I’m Dean, I’m in Apollo cabin. You’re like a legend! And you’re an Avenger! That’s so cool.” Figures. Most of these kids were from New York, and the majority of them knew who the Avengers were. 

“Nice to meet you Dean. Listen, I’ll swing by the archery range later, the hour before dinner. Maybe I’ll see you there.” You ruffled his hair and nudged him along. 

The time flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for Dinner. You were walking with the Apollo cabin over to the Dining pavilion. The day was spent with Annabeth and Chiron walking around camp, meeting and training campers, and hanging out with the Apollo kids. Lacy Partick was head counselor these days, nice girl. As you sat for your last meal at Camp, you were with Chiron and Annabeth. Your phone rang, interrupting your conversation. 

“Work calls?” Chiron asked. 

“I don’t know, Excuse me for a second.” You said, walking away from the noise of the pavilion. 

“Hello?” You answered. The call was from an unknown number. 

“Y/N?” A woman called from the phone. 

“Speaking, who is this?”

“My name Is Jenna McAllister, I work with S.H.I.E.L.D. We need you to come in ASAP.” She said, the urgency in her voice made you tense with worry. 

“Okay. Give me a minute,” You said, putting her on hold. You ran back to Annabeth. “I have to go, I’m so sorry.” You said. Luckily, being an Avenger meant these things happen, and being a demigod/demigod trainer Annabeth and Chiron were more than familiar with last minute quests. 

“Go,” Annabeth said, “I’ll call Percy.” You nodded and looked at Chiron.

“It was great to see you, Chiron. The Camp is absolutely amazing. I’ll be back soon, I swear” You said. 

Chiron laughed, “I’ll hold you to that dear. Go.” he said, waving you off. So you ran. You ran down the hill into your car. Starting the car you took Jenna off hold. 

“Alright McAllister, what’s going on?” 

“Our sources are telling us the Avengers are being held captive somewhere in Boston.” 

“Hold on, you mean to tell me every one of them is out of commission?” You asked, in disbelief. 

“That’s what we think. None of them are responding, it’s been hours.” She said. No, no, no, no, nonono, you thought. No them, not your family. “We’re sending in a team, we were hoping you would lead it.” 

“Of course, have a jet ready, I’ll be there in 20.” 

“Yes ma’am.” She said, “We’ll have all of your weapons ready to go as well.

“Thank you,” You said. The call was over, but your mind raced as you took the fastest way to the compound. Speeding through New York might not have been your best choice, but at this point it was all you could do. You had managed to reach the compound in 15 minutes, going 90 through the city and on the rural roads leading up to the building. 

You were met in the hangar with a team dressed in combat gear, guns strapped and ready to go. 

“Y/N!” You recognized Fury’s voice. Your suit and weapons are all on board. You have a team of 14 of our top agents. There’s a box on top of your suit, it’s an earpiece in it. Wear it. You’re in charge, Bring 'em' home, whatever it takes.” You nodded. 

“See you soon boss,” You said, waving the team into the jet. 

Landing in Boston you were suited up and ready to go. You were going to split the team in two, enter the building from both entrances and meet in the middle. The “Building” was an inconspicuous Brown Stone in the middle of Boston. That meant you had to walk to the building as discreetly as possible in an attempt to attract as little attention as possible. 

Your half of the team was going in through the front door, the other was going through the side. Kicking in the door you cleared the first three rooms as quickly as you could. Looking for any signs of the Avengers.

It wasn’t long before you came across the disaster that was the basement. There were holes in the walls from Clint's arrows, repulson beams, Steve’s shield, bullets, everything you could think of marked these walls. The blood splattering the walls and floor was what got to you. Who or What had the power to take down the Avengers. Hand on your comms you asked the other team how it was going. The “Captain” of that team had nothing but family pictures and soccer schedules. “Come down to the basement. We’re searching every inch of this place until we get an answer.” “Spread out, take pictures, document everything. Then Fuck it up. Push on the walls, look for anything unusual and run with it. You find ANYTHING, you let me know. Got it?” You said in your most commanding voice. You were trained for this, but this was the most high stake mission you’d ever been on. 

Surveying the room, you noticed a faint glow behind one of the bricks. It was a faint golden hue, much like that of Celestial Bronze. Reaching toward the brick you pushed it. To your amazement, the surrounding bricks pulled apart harmoniously to reveal a pathway. It was buried into the ground, and had to be about 10 feet deep, but at the end the golden hue was brighter.

 “Okay,” You whispered. “Whatever’s down there is not going to be friendly. We need to be quiet. Our main goal is to get in, find the team, get them out. Who wants to come?” No one raised their hand. And you couldn't blame them. You didn’t want to go down the tunnel either but your friends were down there. 

“Alright, you three, you’re staging here to cover us. Anything goes down, or comes up, deal with it. The rest of you follow me.” You turned, putting your bow on your back and pulling out your knife of Celestial bronze. Leading the team through the tunnel you listened for any signs of monsters. You had a bad feeling about this. This was pure “Mythology” and you weren't happy about it. Reaching the end of the tunnel you caught sight of Steve’s shield. Peeking around the corner, you saw the team, in a cage of whatever was strong enough to keep them there. Signaling the S.H.I.E.L.D. team to wait for you, you went over to the Avengers.

 “Y/N,” Nat whispered. 

“Hey guys, what are we dealing with?” You asked. 

“It’s some kind of dragon,” Tony said. “Nothing we threw at it worked. And it’s got little minions.”

You had an idea of who they were talking about. One of Apollo’s greatest enemies was Python. A dragonesque snake. In the last war against Gaia you had slain Python again and again, until he finally stayed dead. 

“I think he wants me.” You said. 

“Y/N, whatever you're thinking, stop it.” Natasha said. 

You had grown closer to Natasha than most of the other Avengers. She was like a sister to you, and that’s why it was so easy for you to make the decision. 

“I’m sorry Nat,” you whispered. 

“Python!” you yelled. “Come out here. Let’s make a bargain.” You said, looking at Natasha the whole time. 

“Y/N stop it!” She yelled. The booming footsteps alerted you of Python’s presence. 

“We meet again.” Python said. He spoke in a combination of a hiss and a growl. It was unnerving to say the least. 

“Python, release these people.” You demanded. 

 Python laughed, a bone chilling sound that you swore on your life you never wanted to hear again. 

“Why would I do that?” He asked. 

“Because you can have me. Release them and you can do whatever you want with me. They have nothing to do with this.” You said, glancing at the team behind him still in the tunnel. 

Python laughed again, “Very Well.” Reaching out, he grabbed you in one of his giant claws. Moving over to the cage he wiggled you in front of them. Natasha covered her mouth to contain her sob. Steve, Tony and Clint looked at Python with searing rage. “One wrong move and she dies tonight.”  He opened the cage and walked away with you to the depths of his lair. 

Taking their confiscated weapons, the Avengers met the S.H.I.E.L.D. team in the tunnel. On their way up they heard the sound of chains, and your screams. But they knew there was nothing they could do right then. They just had to move quickly. 

“You saved us,” Steve said. His head down. “You saved all of us.”

#Avengers au #Avengers imagine #Percy jackson imagine #camp half blood #Annabeth Chase #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #natasha romanov #Percy Jackson #marvel masterlist

[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace pt 8🌿

John felt guilty,he hadn’t expected Eddie to accept him back so easily but it still hurt to feel rejected. John had gone back to his car. It was a colder night but he sleeplessly stayed there for the night. Missing his kids and filled with sadness,what would he tell his kids if he came back and said Eddie didn’t want anything to do for John. He’d felt lonely for such a long time and feared losing the one person he wanted to be with most.

He stayed there for the rest of the night,ignoring his hungry stomach begging for food. John normally went hungry for the sake of the kids when they handed out rations for the camps and he’d gotten into the habit of eating less. His clothes hid that fact for the most part,he had examined Eddie's house,it was nice. Eddie had done well for himself,and he didn’t blame Eddie for being mad at John,he’d ran off after promising they’d have a family together and raise the babies together. Sleeplessly lying in the driver's seat with it reclined thinking about everything.

Eddie groaned as he woke up. Leafy and Bitty were pawing at his legs as he realized where he was. He never left the front entry way and didn’t think about the cats.

“Shit.” He groaned.

He got up, going to feed the cats when Bitty looked up at him and meowed before rubbing up against his leg. Then it all dawned on him.

“SHIT, JOHN!”

He fled his apartment, running outside, seeing maybe the man fell asleep at his apartment complex entry way. He didn’t care if it was early in the morning, He fucked up. He had promised himself over the years that it didn’t matter what happened to John. He wasn’t human so he had to do what the man had to do, and Eddie accepted that when they were dating. Just his own jealousy got in the way. He ran in the opposite direction he walked home in the night before, shouting for John’s name. He didn’t even look in any of the parked cars on the side of the street or alleyways. All he wanted to do was find his old lover and hold him in his arms again and apologize for being a complete dick.

John looked over with restless eyes from his small car seeing Eddie running around seeming to look like he was distressed.He wondered would Eddie really be better off,as he listened to him call his name. It seemed like it from what he said last night but he got out of the car,his eyes burned from crying the whole night but also no sleep. He shut the car door loud enough to let Eddie know to look over. John couldn’t bring himself to look at Eddie.

John leaned on his car,watching the man somberly,hearing the rapid steps from Eddie darting around in frantic search. He’d figured Eddie would be better with someone more normal...after all he said maybe it was better that people like them shouldn’t be together. John had spent all night trying to decide whether he should’ve turned the car around and driven back to camp. He hoped he didn’t choose wrong.

As soon as Eddie heard the car door close, he whipped around seeing the smaller distressed frame of the familiar man. Eddie took off full he speed,as fast as his older body could before flung himself at John, embracing him and swinging him around.

“Thank God you didn’t leave!” Eddie exclaimed in pure joy as he set John down from the spin.

John looked up confused but also trying to hide a blush on his cheeks.

“I know we have a lot to work out, but I am so so sorry for being an ass last night. I had a shitty band practice and so I went to get a few drinks and this one girl kept hitting on me at the bar and then I heard your song on the bus home and I…” Eddie paused himself,pulling the red head in for a hug again. “I’ve missed you so so much..I feel like I’m in Heaven right now seeing you again..” he muttered in a loving tone. Placing a gentle hand on the back of Johns head still holding him.

Eddie was crying tears of joy again. John was alive, John was safe, John was here.

John had frozen shocked by the sudden action,he didn’t know what to say. He felt happier than ever and relieved but still filled with confusion, “I’m sorry..I don’t know what I should say” he muttered in a dry voice,batting his eyes a few times while streams of tears ran down his face. Now in the arms of Eddie tightly burying his face into Eddie's upper shoulder. John's stomach said something for him with a loud growl. He blushed embarrassed and pulled away from the hug to look up at Eddie.

“I missed you Eddie...I should've tried to take you with me” John's pale frail hand wiped a tear falling,from his cheek as he let out a soft shaky breath. His stomach letting out another growl craving food once again.

Eddie just ignored the words for the time being and broke them apart for a quick moment before smooshing their lips together in a super long, 2 year delayed, kiss. It felt good to finally connect this intimately with the person he loved dearly. Suffocating one another in affection,but another growl from John’s stomach snapped them out of it,Eddie snickered as John blushed with embarrassment.

“Come back to my place, I’ll cook something. Plus I’m sure there is someone who’d love to see you right now.” Grabbing John’s hand, Eddie started to drag him in the direction of his house.

When they were reaching his apartment, he forgot to close his door and was afraid the cats got out. He quickly approached the door and looked inside, calling to his two kitty companions. He left John at the door to see if he could still find them.

“Spspspsp” He sounded out and waited. The singer walked in looking around to see Bitty pinning Leafy down who was struggling to move as he wanted to go out the door. “Good kitty! Keeping Leafy inside!” He cooed, getting them treats. “Daddy’s sorry he left in a hurry, I’ll give you extra kibble.” Both cats heard food and started to pour more into their dishes.

“You can come in now.” Eddie called, hearing the footsteps enter his home and close his front door.

Bitty lifted her head up in wonder to see who came inside her home when the kitty smelled an old but familiar smell. “Murrrrp? Merrrrp!” She ditched her food dish and ended up rubbing herself on her old cat dad. She meowed and purred vigorously when John picked her up and started laughing.

“Awww my lil Bits” He held her like a baby and gave her head small kisses “I missed you so much my lil one” he laughed softly and set her down purring loudly as she pranced over to the food bowl “I missed her,Thankyou for taking care of her Eds”

John tiredly sat down on a chair relaxing a bit as Eddie started to cook up breakfast,he looked like he was ready to fall asleep then and there. John was exhausted from his worrying, “your house is really nice,I also like the new cat” he smiled at Eddie from across the table. He fidgeted with his red hair “the girls wanna meet you Eddie..and I can’t stop thinking about it” Johns eyes were closed now,smiling at the thought of his sweet kids “my moms taking care of them right now”

Eddie smiled. “I would love to see them too John…” He got out a couple of plates. “But we need to work out what’s between us. We need to make sure it's really safe for Humans and Abbies to live together and be allowed to love each other. Things have been trying to change for the better between our species, but there’s always that loophole that continues to set everyone back.”

He dished up the food and handed one plate to John who carefully begin to take small bites to ease the food into his stomach. Eddie ate like normal, scratching Leafy’s ear when the kitty decided to beg for his food.

“No, Leaf, go eat your kibble.”

Eddie turned his attention back to John. “So… How have you been, like really been?”

John thought about the question pausing his meal,he normally tried to not think about how he was feeling. “I-...I’m tired,it’s been a rough few years raising the kids...and helping my mom with the rebellion,getting captured then breaking out of a facility.I really lucked out they didn’t find I could have kids,...we aren’t seen as humans in facilities” John gave an awkward laugh attempting to hide his grim recount,before he shoved another bite into his mouth chewing slowly. “It’s been...lonely” John had gotten sick during one of the harsher winters after he had the girls. He let out a deep breath rubbing his burning eyes. “It was actually my mom and the girls who said I should try to come back to see you…I mean I was planning to anyways, but I just wasn’t sure if my mom could watch the kids that long. Or if you’d want to even see me.” John ran his fingers through his petal filled hair,it all stressed him out. “Anyways how've you been…” John didn’t wanna tell Eddie that he longed to continue the dream of having a family with him,getting married and actually carrying the children of Eddie. He knew it would be too much to say,it’d been so long after all. He didn’t wanna rush things too fast and lose him again.

“I’ve been better.” Eddie replied. “Just been working on a new EP with the band. After a few concerts, Greenhouse was a success to my surprise. I guess it resonated with a bunch of people. Some people have called it the ‘Barrier Breaker’, saying it’s what's going to bring the people together.” He shrugged. “But who knows.”

He let out another sigh. “So you’ve mentioned you’ve broken out of a facility. But it’s legal for Humans and Abnormals to live together now. Does this mean you’re a fugitive? Does your Mom know you were taken? What about the girls?” He started spilling questions. But then he stopped.

“Sorry. But if you really are on the run, then we have to figure something out so you’re really free.”

“I was a fugitive,this wasn’t the first time I was in a facility. So when we first met I could technically be considered a fugitive,but after this break out and some political negotiations with the governor. My mother and I with a few others were able to make it legal in this state to live in city’s with regular people.” John took a deep breath trying to not overload Eddie with information. “And now a few other progressive states it’s legal,it’s making its way to the presidential office,so hopefully it’ll be countrywide soon” John had an awkward smile for a moment. “we’re working on the details about Abnormals and Regulars getting married and such” He shrugged and sat back in his chair,”Before we were together,a few years back I did some shit as a teenager that got me put in a facility” clearing his throat he continued “it’s why Quinn blew up when I asked about them taking the babies,but now, I’m not a fugitive,I’m ‘legal’ now”

Eddie felt so relieved, like his heart was mending back together.

“We should talk more but you look like you’re about to pass out. Stay for a few days, rest up and eat. I’m still in the middle of the album so I’ll be in my studio most of the day. If you need to leave…” He looked at John with seriousness, giving a warning in his tone of voice. “Tell me. If you run off again, I won’t be as forgiving.”

He got up, went to take a shower real quick then left for the studio. Eddie was elated that John was back, but he couldn’t forgive him just yet. He needed to mend his broken heart and he knew just how to do it. Eddie dried off and got dressed in pajamas,making his way down the hall. John who’d finished eating and seemed to pass out on Eddies couch.

When he walked into his studio, he got set up, texted his band about what’d happened,then began to strum his guitar. He heard only one song ringing through his head now,the song that had been haunting him for years. He closed his eyes, sliding his finger and plucking the first string, beginning to play Eden.

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 6 -- A Ghostophobe, a Giant Iguana, and Vegan Nacho Cheese

Word Count: 14402

READ ON AO3

As an aspiring astronaut, Danny’s dream had always been going to space. 

Being able to look at the vastness of the universe, to literally look down on Earth and see every single country at once, to stargaze up close… All from the comfort of the space station as he leisurely floated around in zero gravity. 

Really, that was all he asked for. 

He was convinced he lost his chance when he got his powers. 

Although not directly connected to his dream, the birth of Danny Phantom almost put his GPA in jeopardy several times. Before the accident, he used to be a good student, granted, not as good as Jazz, but he brought home good marks. But once the first sleepless night trying to catch rogue ghosts came, countless more were soon to follow. 

Between the lack of sleep, being tardy to class or skipping it altogether, and many more instances of ‘teenage rebellion’ (all caused by his attempts to save everyone from malevolent spirits, not like anyone cared), Danny was sure his dreams of going to space had all but vanished before him.

There were no words capable of describing his joy when he miraculously pulled just the mark he needed to be accepted at Amity Park University’s Astrophysics degree. So what if he couldn’t go to a fancy college like Yale, or Stanford? That was Jazz’s dream, not his. Besides, studying at APU was perfect for protecting the town and getting access to the Ghost Zone. 

He seriously doubted any of those preppy colleges would have granted him permission to build a ghost portal in their labs, anyway. 

And so, he was closer to his dream than he’d thought he’d ever be during all of high school. During that time, he found solace in flying. Being one of the only two people in the whole world who could fly without help was even more special than being selected by NASA; a feat in itself. And it was so...liberating.

Even when he struggled most with his powers, just being able to fly made it all worth it. The immense relief that would envelop him whenever he just let the breeze guide him, lazily swaying in the sky and under the moonlight. The feeling he’d get whenever the adrenaline coursed through his veins as he picked up speed, sometimes even breaking the sound barrier when he felt like really challenging himself. Or just the chance to quiet the hectic voices ruling his life, even for just one moment: fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try toー

The mere chance to leave his worries behind, even for just a second, made the prospect of losing his one chance at his dream seem worth it.

Although...he did get the chance to be an astronaut during freshman year. But that was a story for another day. 

Now, at twenty-one and with even more things to worry about, flying was still the one place he could find solace in. Tucker often told him that’d change the day he found himself a girlfriend, but let’s be real; who’d want to date someone like him?

Unlike high school, however, his problem wasn’t his look or his personality. The not-so-subtle glancesーwhich were almost predatory, might he addーand shameless gossiping and squealing he got from the girls around campus confirmed he’d grown from ‘Scrawny, Awkward Fenturd’, to ‘Tall, Dark, and Handsome Fenstud.’ 

The moniker stroked his ego, he wasn’t going to deny it. But the problem wasn’t his popularity with the opposite sex. The problem was how the opposite sex would react if they knew his secret. 

Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase that sentence. If the excited shrieking and squealing his alter ego received from the members of his fan club were anything to go by, any of those girls would faint in elation if they ever got the chance to date Danny Phantom. The polls from gossip magazines dedicated to discussing how hot the Ghost Boy was ーwhen were they gonna change that nickname to ‘Ghost Man’, anyway? When he was 40?!ー didn’t lie. 

The real problem would come when his girlfriend got involved in his double life. And even if he wouldn’t want her to be involved, let alone fight ghosts alongside him like Tucker and Jazz did, deep down he knew it was inevitable. The moment his enemies found out he had a new girlfriend, they would use her to get to him. After all, what better way to defeat someone than to exploit his weakness? If Technus, of all people, could come up with that plan, anybody else could.

As he surveyed Amity Park from above, lost in his thoughts, Danny suddenly registered a source of heat coming from his right. Quickly swirling in the opposite direction to avoid the incoming projectile, a pink beam of ecto-energy, he quickly scanned his surroundings to identify his opponent. And judging by the way his Ghost Sense hadn't gone off, that could only be one person.

“Valerie.”

“It’s Red Huntress for you, spook!” A snarl, accompanied by another pink blast, came from above him. After blocking the attack with an ecto-shield, he looked up. Lo and behold, Valerie was hovering over him on her forked, black and red hoverboard, an ecto-gun protruding from her forearm and aimed directly at him.

Valerie Gray, also known as The Red Huntress. Amity Park’s most competent ghost hunter, after him. Who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it’s-complicated ex-girlfriend. Or his S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. for short.

Somehow, that acronym never had a good reception.

His story with Valerie was...an interesting one, to say the least. Their relationship was full of ups and downs, with the downs eventually becoming an integral and exclusive part of their interactions as Danny Phantom and The Red Huntress. 

They started out as complete strangers. Well, not exactly. They both knew of each other back in the beginning to freshman year of high school, but they didn’t know each other. Valerie started out as another A-lister; haughty, self-centred, she made no effort to hide her disdain for those ‘bellow her.’ Of course, Danny, being Danny Fenton, one of the biggest losers in Casper High, was particularly low in her long list of those ‘bellow her.’

But that all changed thanks to a little ghost puppy he called Cujo. 

Cujo was the ghost of a guard dog trained by Axion Labs, where Damon Gray, Valerie’s father, worked. They got rid of the dogs after upgrading the security system, with the misfortune of preparing the labs for any possible kind of assault, except for a ghost puppy with the ability to turn into a bigger, more menacing dog looking for his lost chew toy. 

Needless to say, things could’ve gone better. If only because his accidental meddling had been indirectly responsible for Mr. Gray losing his job, the Grays losing their fortune and their house, Valerie falling from grace and losing her popularity, and her developing a huge grudge against all ghosts, especially him, that lasted well into present time.

If there were job applications for fucking people over that weren’t exclusively related to sex work, he’d be a pro. 

As expected when someone dedicated their lives to hunting you, regardless of your attempts to befriend them or explain the situation, the two didn’t quite get along at first. Between Valerie’s newfound purpose to waste him and the fact that she never really acknowledged she’d been as terrible to him and Tucker as the A-listers were now with her, the two often butted heads even at school. 

Their opinions of each other didn’t change until Skulker forced them to work together to survive his island and his attempts at hunting them both, when they actually had a heart-to-heart. Their civilian selves being simultaneously paired up for a Health class project also helped. 

But what really changed things was the very same events that turned Danny Phantom into the Ghost King. 

During Pariah Dark’s return, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray really connected, and Danny learned to appreciate her in a whole new light. She was amazing while she fought Dark and the Fright Knight; the months she’d had to hone her abilities really shone through. Her attacks were intuitive, yet calculated. Her moves, nimble but they packed quite the punch. She was confident, and yet cautious enough to not get cocky. 

As odd as it sounded, seeing her fight was incredibly hot. 

...alright, so maybe he did have a thing for girls who could kick his ass. He blamed his dad for that one. 

That day, something sparked between them...but only between Danny Fenton and Valerie; she still hated the Ghost Boy with every fiber of her being. She was positively furious when she found out he’d been chosen as the next ruler of the Ghost Zone. 

Danny had to admit, anybody else with half a brain cell would have understood that crushing on a girl hellbent on destroying a part of him maybe wasn’t the best idea ever. Tucker and Jazz certainly thought so. But he was fourteen, hormones were high, and Valerie was the coolest girl he’d ever met so far, so…

Common sense be damned. 

And so, they tried going out for some time. During those few dates the two went together he was over the moon, walking on air, he couldn’t believe his luck! He’d finally found a girl who liked him for him. Someone real and approachable, unlike his previous crushes on popular girlsーironically enough since Valerie herself used to be an unapproachable popular girl.

The universe itself seemed to want them to be together!

Not only did they dates suddenly get better thanks to some weird coincidenceーa blackout turning a dinner in a greasy diner into a romantic candle-lit evening, winning carnival tickets at the baseball game, the ferris wheel stopping at the most romantic point possibleーbut they seemed to be enough to get the idea inside Valerie’s head that maybe their relationship was worth giving up ghosthunting for. 

Until Tucker, Jazz, and, surprisingly enough, Technus burst his little bubble. Turned out, Technus, who still didn’t respect him as his new ruler, seeing Valerie as a potential weakness, manipulated their relationship to keep him busy while he worked on his latest scheme. 

The self-called ‘Master of Technology’ was also responsible for Valerie’s hatred of ghosts being renewed, for the destruction of her original suit followed by an upgrade to her current armor, and for Danny’s one-time experience in space (a happy coincidence). 

Oh, and had he mentioned Technus’ meddling also led to Valerie breaking up with him before he could even ask her to go steady (hence the S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. situation), giving him the most cliché excuse in the superheroing book, because she hated his ghost half more than she liked his human half?

Because it totally did.

Looking back, with Valerie’s icy glare set on him and a very menacing looking ecto-gun aimed straight at his forehead, maybe dating a ghost hunter set on killing him wasn’t his best idea. Fucking hormones…

“Look, Valerie, can we wrap this up? I’m really not in the mood.”

“Oh, we’ll wrap it up alright, Phantom,” she sneered, “with your ass in a body bag!” She shot at him again with the weapon protruding from her forearm. Seeing as the ghost only ducked the ecto-rays with relative difficulty, she changed tactics. Quickly typing down a command on her control panel, from between her fingers materialised three razor-sharp pink discs. 

The moment her attention was focused elsewhere, Danny took the chance and flew off at top speed. Noticing his attempt to escape from the corner of her eye, refusing to let him get away, the Red Huntress stepped on the hidden button of her board’s body. With a whirring sound, the engines roared to life, allowing her to fly after him. 

Once the Ghost Boy was within reaching distance and too busy trying to get away from her, with a swift motion of her arm, Valerie hurled the pink discs at him. At the sound of air being sliced, Danny turned his head just enough to notice the pink projectiles coming towards him from the corner of his eye. Maneuvering through the sky, he managed to dodge the first two, but as he ducked away from the second disc, the third came close enough to slice his upper arm. 

Wincing in pain, not once stopping his flight, he cradled his arm to inspect the wound. Despite the oozing ectoplasm coming out of it, it was just a superficial cut. He’d live. As he registered the sudden heat approaching his back, Danny understood the only way to get rid of Valerie was fighting her. 

As much as he hated fighting a friend, it was pointless to resist when said friend was trying to shoot holes into his body. And if he made the mistake of letting her get too close, he’d get caught in between her board’s forked ends, giving his chaser the perfect chance to activate the stinger and electrocute him. 

“Hate to break it to you, Valerie. But I’m already dead, so body bags are pretty pointless!” Charging up his ecto-ray, hands glowing green, Danny shot in her direction, holding back just enough so Val would be forced to swirl around the sky to avoid getting hit. It was his signature move when facing off against Valerie: distract her with the need for an evasive maneuver in order to gain enough time to escape himself. 

Just as he predicted, when the green rays of energy got closer to her, the Red Huntress willed her board to keep moving to the opposite direction of the blasts. What he hadn’t predicted, though, was that she’d change tactics and face the blasts head-on. The impact caused a plume of smoke to rise up in the air, hiding the girl from view.

Before he could fuss over her safety, however, Valerie rose up above him. Hunched down on her board before elegantly moving to stand tall, a smug grin on her face, she was surrounded by a bluish ghost shield coming from her preferred method of transport. He always forgot she could do that. “That’s too bad.” She said in a fake, sugary voice. “Guess I’ll just have to resign myself to seeing you fade.” 

In an instant, she willed three metallic cubes to manifest around her head and shoulders. As the devices charged up, the Red Huntress gave chase to him once more. 

Reacting almost a split-second too late, Danny resumed his own attempts of leaving her behind. Whenever an energy beam got too close for comfort, he either put all his years of flying to good use and miraculously managed to avoid getting hit, or he’d focus his energy on forming ecto-shields of different sizesーdepending on her ecto-rays' own intensity. The untrained observer would point out he could just turn intangible and the beams would harmlessly pass through him, but that was too simple. And fighting Val was never simple. 

Even when she’d first got her gearーand by that he meant her old, non-Technus-upgraded gearーthe Red Huntress’ various weapons were all capable of hitting him even when he went intangible. Therefore, lowering his guard like that around her was like a clear invitation to get his ass whooped. 

Getting frustrated, with Val still hot in his ghost-tail, he bellowed, “Would you just quit it?! I still got a mark from the last time we fought!”

Smirking darkly, Valerie forewent her cubic guns for her trusty ecto-grenade. “Then I know where to hit next.” She declared before throwing the dangerous device at him, hitting him square on his left shoulder.

As a burning pain suddenly spread through his left shoulder to the tip of his fingertips, not all was lost, for the resulting explosion had sent him flying across the sky to the asphalt, effectively putting some much needed distance from him and his pursuer. 

Hands propped on the street and barely supporting his weight, Danny laboriously lifted his head up. All around him, people were either running away in fright of the impending battle or crowding the street as they pointed at him, whispering amongst themselves. 

Lifting himself up to a sitting position, the halfa gently nursed his aching shoulder, wincing in pain whenever his fingertips touched the sensitive skin. Although whatever damage Valerie had managed to inflict upon him would soon be gone thanks to his enhanced healing factor, he knew he didn’t have the luxury to wait that long. Knowing the ghost hunter, she’d be around, looking for him. And the moment she found him, she’d waste no time resuming their confrontation.

The Red Huntress would never stop until the source of all her misery was finally banished to the Ghost Zone, or disposed off permanently. 

Grunting in pain, Danny willed the cold of his core to spread throughout his body until it reached his hands. The moment his hand blazed a familiar, chilly blue he began caressing his suffering shoulder, the cold emanating from his fingertips a welcomed painkiller. 

“Is there anything more unfair than being pummeled to a pulp when you’re actually holding back from hurting the other person?” He grunted, but his musings were cut short by another ecto-beam barely missing his head, a whiff of smoke coming from the asphalt that’d cushioned the hit. 

His heart suddenly in his throat, the halfa gingerly looked up, only to find Valerie a few feet away from him, a smoking, double-cannoned ecto-bazooka resting on her shoulder, which only elicited the whispers around them to grow louder, more frantic. “Gotcha.” She said, her glare colder than his ice powers. 

Adrenaline kicking his brain in overdrive, Danny frantically looked around, trying to find a way to escape that didn’t involve hurting Valerie or any of the onlookers. Argh, if only he could just turn intangible! As he futilely tried crawling away, his gloved hands moving against the asphalt floor below him, the sensation sparked an idea. Maybe turning intangible was useless against the Red Huntress’ weapons, but phasing wasn’t.

The only thing he needed was a distraction, and the whirring sound coming from the charging ecto-bazooka gave him an idea. It was reckless, but that seemed to be his thing lately, wasn’t it?

“Say goodbye, Phantom!” Valerie spat just as the weapon perched on her shoulder was done charging up, shooting a powerful blast his way. 

Using the hand that was previously healing his wounds, Danny shot his own ecto-ray at the incoming projectile, causing his adversary to gasp in surprise. “Goodbye, Red!”

As the two forces came into contact with each other, under the stunned gazes of everyone present, they exploded into a blinding light that forced everyone, Valerie included, to shield their eyes. Wasting no time, Danny turned intangible, phasing through the floor and into the Amity Park sewer system. Once underground, he let his transformation drop, knowing Val’s Ghost Radar would find him otherwise, before making his way around the sewers in search of the nearest exit, his body leaning against the wall for support. 

After what felt like an eternity, Valerie finally got her forearm out of her face. What was the point in having a dark-tinted visor if she could still be blinded? Once she’d regained the totality of her sight, that is to say, she no longer saw dark spots dancing around her vision, she quickly redirected her gaze to where Phantom stood. 

Nothing.

Gasping, Valerie looked up to the sky. As her eyes scanned around for a black and white, flying figure, or even anything amiss in case the Ghost Boy had turned invisible, she soon realised the green-eyed spook was truly nowhere to be seen. Despite her growing frustration at losing her target, the Red Huntress quickly typed a command on her suit, hoping her Ghost Radar could still detect him. No such luck. 

Growling in frustration with murder in her eyes, she jumped mid-air, summoning her hoverboard to appear right bellow her. Roaring the engines to life, she took off in direction to Elmerton, her home for the last seven years. 

As she soared the skies, Valerie kept looking back and forth between her radar and her surroundings, looking for Phantom. “I was so close, damn it! Every time I think I finally have that ectoplasmic punk right where I want him, he up and disappears!” With a furious yell to the sky, she leaned on her board, using her feet to increase its speed.

Her gear had to be the only good thing that came out of her first encounter with that ghostly bastard. Even if she’d lost everything and her dad was constantly working long hours to keep her in collegeーher wonderful, incredible, genius dad, who deserved much more than just being a crammy security night guardー, at least what happened at Axion Labs all those years ago had given her two things: the gear necessary to become Amity Park’s most powerful ghost hunter, and the purpose to eliminate all bodiless apparitions from the face of the Earth. 

Starting by Danny Phantom. 

Valerie could only scoff at some people’s stupidity. Although most citizens had half the brains necessary to figure out Danny Phantom was a threat, there were still some who revered him as some kind of hero.

Oh, it was true. He saved the town from falling into that Ghost King’s claws, but didn’t anybody remember what happened afterwards? Because she did. Not even a week after ‘saving’ everyone from a fate worse than deathーand causing her some injuries and for her dad to both find out about her ghost-hunting escapades and forbid her from ever touching her equipment again, to add insult to injuryー, he ascended as the next Ghost King. 

And people still celebrated him? Were they blind?!

It was clear that Phantom only ever fought the Ghost King, not to protect Amity Park, or whatever nonsense he kept trying to feed the public, but to dethrone him himself! He wanted that psycho’s position for himself, so he could keep terrorising the town with even less opposition than before! 

“Hero my ass…” Valerie scoffed in disbelieving disgust. 

But, apparently, only Valerie and the Fentons had any common sense on the matter. “Wow. Never thought I’d have anything in common with the Fentons…” she mused aloud. As much as she’d liked Danny when they were fourteen, his family was a whole different thing.

When she finally made out her apartment complex in the distance, the armored girl couldn’t help but carefully glide near their living room window, where she could see her father sleeping soundly on the couch after a long nightーtoo tired to even go to bed. 

Carefully resting her gloved hand against the window glass, worriedly looking at the man who’d been her only source of comfort for as long as she could remember, her heart broke. “Don’t worry, Dad. I promise, one day Phantom’ll be mine. And then we’ll finally cash in that reward and leave this shit hole once and for all.” 

With renewed determination, she went around her floor until she was right beside her own room. Due to her always leaving her bedroom window open, all she had to do was squeeze herself inside. Now standing in her room, she deactivated her suit, which disappeared in a swirl of electricity. Walking over her mirror, Valerie picked up a quasi-new set of clothes that were lying on her chair. “But first, let’s pay that college tuition. It won’t look good if I’m late on my first day.”

............

Phasing through the walls, Danny stumbled into his sister’s room. He would’ve fallen face-first on the floor hadn’t it been for his hands instinctively stopping the fall. 

Her head snapping to the distinctive sound of a ‘thud’, Jazz immediately swirled around on her computer chair. “A little help?” Danny grunted tiredly. 

Gasping at the state her little brother was in, the redhead all but threw herself at him in order to inspect any possible wounds, only to recoil in disgust when she caught a sniff of him, pinching her nose. “Ew! What happened to you to smell that horridly?! What did you do, die for real?”

“I phased through the floor and into the sewers.” The black-haired boy dryly corrected, not appreciating his sister’s skewed priorities. “Now, if you would be so kind as to help me out...”

Jazz at least had the decency to blush. Offering a hand to her brother, she helped him stand up before guiding him to her bed. Then she lowered him on top of it and resumed her previous inspection of him. She jumped back in surprise at Danny’s sudden, sharp inhale of breath when she accidentally grazed his left shoulder. 

In an instant, she was basically in his face, fussing over him. “Danny? Are you okay? Is there anything wrong with your shoulder?”

“Everything’s fiー”, he stopped short when he registered her worried look. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Valerie today.”

“Oh, no.” The eldest Fenton kid lamented, knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Yeah...I tried losing her, but in the meantime she landed a few mean punches on me...figuratively speaking, of course.”

“So I’m guessing your shoulder cushioned a nasty one?”

He nodded, barely turning his head to look at her. “Ecto-grenade.” He said simply, and Jazz cringed in sympathy. “Yeah. I numbed the pain a little by applying some cold with my powers, but a few real painkillers might do me some good until it’s properly healed.”

“Sure.” With a nod, Jazz got up from the bed and crossed over to the other side of the room, where her closet was located. Opening the door and standing on her tiptoes to reach the higher shelf, she grabbed her hidden first aid kit before setting it down on her desk. “Any other injuries I should know about?” She asked as she rummaged through her supplies, taking a small plastic jar with Ibuprofen from it. 

“Just a superficial cut on my arm. It’s almost completely healed now, but putting a band-aid on it just in case wouldn’t hurt.” 

Flopping herself down next to her baby brother again, medical supplies in hand, Jazz helped Danny out of his t-shirt. When she saw the burns on his shoulder, though, she couldn’t help but wince. “Are you sure you don’t want me to put some bandages on it, Danny? It looks pretty bad…”

The halfa sighed. He knew his sister would fuss over his health; she always did. “It’ll heal, Jazz. It always does.” Then he caught her expression from the corner of his eye. “...but if it’ll make you feel better, I suppose a few bandages just in case don’t so bad.”

Nodding readily, the aqua-eyed woman went to quickly retrieve some of the aforementioned bandages from her kit. Then she proceeded to wrap them around her brother’s left shoulder and pectorals. When Danny sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged and said, “Just in case.”

With his shoulder taken care of, Danny, almost begrudgingly, stretched his arm out to her, letting her inspect his cut. Even though he was right and it was just a flesh wound, it was still important to clean it. Pouring some disinfectant on a bunch of cotton balls, with the help of tweezers she gently dubbed the cotton against his skin, prompting Danny to wince in displeasure. 

She rolled her eyes at his childishness, annoyed. “Oh, come on! You literally just faced a ghost huntress, walked around the sewers for who knows how long, and this is something to complain about? Don’t be such a baby!”

“Hey, you have no right to complain about me complaining! You’re not the one who’s routinely going through some kind of medical procedure.” And he’d never want her to go through one; not even a simple check up. 

“Whatever,” she said as she put the band-aid on. She dusted her hands off before smiling proudly at him. “All done. Now, go get some rest before it’s time to go and you have to shower.”

Danny pouted. “Do we still have to go? Jazz, I’m injured…” He tried to bargain with his best sad, puppy-dog look. 

Jazz wasn’t buying, though. “Should’ve thought about that before you assured me your wounds would heal soon. Come on, Danny, you know I’ve been dying to try this place out and you promised to take me.”

“Can’t you take Tucker with you while I rest, instead?”

“No, because,” she lifted three fingers up, ready to count her options off, “one, he’s not my brother, and I’d like to go with my brother. Two, if you turn your head to my nightstand ever so slightly, you’ll see it’s only 12:30 PM on a Saturday; we’re leaving at sevenーyou’ll have plenty of time to rest. And three...can you really imagine Tucker stepping foot in that sort of place even if I bribed him with $1000?”

Danny visibly deflated at that. “No…”

“Then it’s settled.” Jazz declared. “Go to your room and rest. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you came while they were working on the lab and that you’re tired from an all-nighter of working on an assignment.”

“You’d think they’d be surprised I’m not getting straight A’s with all the times we’ve used the studying excuse on them…” Danny muttered as he left his sister's room. 

Standing against the door, Jazz shrugged. “Mum thinks spending so many nights awake studying is actually counter-productive, so…”

Danny chuckled before standing in front of his room’s door. Before going in, however, he called out to her. “Uh, Jazz?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re the best.” He smiled at her. 

She smiled back. “Anytime, Baby Brother.”

..............

A deafening roar echoed throughout the manor. Her heart pounding, Sam ran as fast as she could along the corridors, barely registering where she was going. She took so many turns around the halls she lost count, all portraits and decorations merging together so it’d look like she was running through the same, never ending hallway. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the origin of the noise. 

When she finally arrived before the gates guarding the bloodcurdling sounds, she skidded to a halt so abruptly she almost gave herself whiplash. Now that she was closer to the source, Sam could also make out the sound of screaming coming from inside the room. And when she noticed just where the roaring and screaming was coming from, her heart all but stopped.

The training room. 

The place where the younger members of the clan practiced and perfected their magic. Whatever happened there now had a group of kids trapped! 

She had to do something!

But, being the queen and therefore not being able to afford anything happening to her in fear of unleashing a civil war, she’d promised she’d wait for Wilhelmina to arrive, or at the very least, for Paulina and Star to support her. 

Anxiously, her eyes kept darting back and forth in all directions, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would soon come to help. They couldn’t risk their kids’ lives like that. Suddenly, the roars and screams only got louder, accompanied by the sounds of thrashing and the crunching of wood being broken. 

Whatever it was that was going on, it was mayhem!

The minutes felt like hours and there was still no sight of her Minister of War or her handmaidens. Fear gripping at her heart, terrified for the sake of the students trapped behind those doors, Sam threw all caution to the wind. Willing her mind to clear so she could establish a proper connection with her anima, the Witch Queen cupped her hands together in front of her chest, taking advantage of the extra dose of adrenaline to fuel her essence. As soon as she felt the familiar pull of power, she opened her now blazing, violet eyes and shouted, “Aries!”

From her open palms a host of purple light began to take form. In the blink of an eye, the spell solidified, shooting forwards to the gates and effectively crushing them by sheer force. As the dust resulting from the impact cleared, allowing Sam to finally see what was going on, all she could do was gasp. 

Standing tall and imposing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of terrified students who were hiding from it in the furthest corner of the classroom behind a row of desks, a gigantic iguana, the size of that dragon ghost that sometimes haunted the town, roared as it shoved tables out of its wayーtheir now spilled contents cluttered the floor. 

When the giant reptile’s eye landed on her, obviously taking notice of the explosion of light, Sam felt her blood run cold. And yet, in spite of the danger, she preferred having the beast targeting her than causing harm to the girls. As the creature threateningly stomped in the direction she was in, the young queen formulated a plan. 

If she could just keep the iguana distracted long enough until Wilhelmina came, she could win enough time to allow the kids to escape. But she’d have to tell them her plan as well. 

“And I know how.” She mused aloud with a smirk on her face. She was just glad she was currently wearing pants instead of an extravagant dress. 

As she waited for the reptile to get closer to her, biding her time, Sam intertwined her fingers save for her indexes and thumbs, which were in contact with each other. Then, just as the iguana’s claw was about to strike, she mimicked the action of a gun shooting with her arms. “Ignis!” She cried out. 

From her fingertips she kept shooting energy beams at the monster as she ran in the direction the girls were in. When one of her beams hit the iguana in the eye, causing it to cry out in pain and, most importantly, to be distracted, Sam quickly slid down to behind the remaining desksーwhere the girls were. 

“Girls, are you okay?!” She whispered-shouted as soon as she caught sight of them. They were a small group, six girls around the ages of 10-12. 

One of them, a brunette with green eyesーViolet, if Sam wasn’t wrongー, spoke up on behalf of her friends. “Your Majesty! Oh, thank Goodness...Yeah, we’re fine. As soon as that thing appeared we ran and hid here.”

The violet-eyed witch sighed in relief. “Thank God. Alright, Violet, right?” The girl nodded, the smile on her face was so wide due to the Queen remembering her name, one would almost forget they were all in danger.  “Right. I need you to tell me how this happened. And why are you guys all alone, shouldn’t an adult be with you at all times?”

Lola, a shy girl with black hair and glasses, and a distant relative of Paulina, answered instead. “Uh, well, we-we weren’t alone, your Highness.”

She’d have to tell them some other time that title was for princes and princesses, not queens. But first, saving their lives. “What do you mean, Lola? Who was with you?”

“Wilhelmina.”

“Wilhelmina?!” she repeated, a little too loudly. Wincing at the realisation, she hushed the girls in case the iguana had heard them. Whimpering in fright, the kids got closer to her, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around them. After a few minutes and no response from the monster, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Okay. Girls, can you explain to me why Wilhelmina isn’t here? It’s not like her to leave students unsupervised.”

“Class was ending, anyway.” Violet explained. “She said she had something to do and that she trusted us to clean everything up before we left.”

Sam did not like where this was going. “And the giant iguana?”

“We don’t know.” Lola said, then she pointed at one of her friends, a blonde named Tamara. “We were talking about the familiars we’d like to have when we completed our Rite of Passage while we were finishing brewing today’s potion when Tammy said she’d wish to have an iguana. And, boom!”

“Is that true, Tammy?” Sam questioned the girl. 

Tammy nodded, tearing up. “Y-yes…I-I said...I-I’d like...a-an iguana and...and then...the p-potion...started b-boiling...and o-out of n-nowhere...that...that monster appeared!” She admitted between cries. 

Panicking, both because of the little girl crying and the potential danger of being discovered, Sam scooted closer to her, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Shh, shh! It’s okay, Tammy. It’s not your faultーthese things happen!”

“R-really?”

The queen nodded, smiling reassuringly at her. “Really. This sort of thing happens all the time. You’ll learn what it is soon enough.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not.” 

Before Sam could so much as blink, the girl threw her arms at her, hugging her. The raven-haired witch stiffened at the contact, not used to dealing with physical affection...or kids. After a minute, though, she relaxed and returned the embrace. Tammy needed comfort at the moment. 

“What do we do now, your Majesty?” Violet asked, bringing her queen back to Earth. 

“Is that thing going to eat us?” Lola insisted, looking positively spooked. 

“No, no. None of that!” Sam assured them, letting go of Tammy. “Because I have a plan.” She motioned with her hands for the girls to get closer to her before continuing. “First of all, don’t worry. Iguanas are herbivores; they don’t eat meat, let alone humans! So listen closely, any minute now Wilhelmina, my ladies-in-waiting, and whoever else they’d called for help will appear through that door. I’ll share my plan with them and while we keep the iguana busy, you’ll run away from here. Understood?”

The group nodded readily. “Good.”

“Your Majesty, where are you?!” A familiar voice called out to her. 

Crawling quietly, Sam dedicated one last look at the younger witches. “Remember, don’t move until I tell you to go, got it?”

“Got it.” The six of them said in unison. 

With a nod of her own, Sam crawled out of her hiding place before standing up and breaking into a full run to the direction the voice came fromーapparently, it was Susan who’d called out to her, accompanying her mentor. The latter, as well as Star and Paulina, were blocking the reptile’s exit. 

“Ignis!” repeating her actions from earlier, she shot another energy beam at the beast, before standing beside her subjects. 

“What is that thing!?” Paulina asked, looking completely revolted. 

“It’s the result of a spell gone awry.” The Witch Queen answered. “A girl got distracted while brewing a potion and this is the result.”

“What kind of distraction?” Star raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you think?” Sam replied as if that was all the answer she needed. 

Apparently, it was, because nobody else said a word until Wilhelmina’s hoarse voice broke the silence. “Your Majesty! What are you doing here!? You’re supposed to wait for help to come!”

The Goth couldn’t be bothered to pretend she cared about the protocol right now, especially not after discovering her fellow Council member had left a group of witches in-training completely unsupervised. “Not now, Wilhelmina! The kids are still here; we’ve gotta help them escape!”

“And how are we going to do that?” Star let out, trying to hold down the barrier of fiery, orange energy she’d created to prevent the beast from leaving the training room. 

“I have a plan.” Sam turned her attention to the potion-maker in-training. “Susan! Do you have one of your Minisize Me potions on you?”

The Asian teenager reached for her bandolier and grabbed a spherical jar in her hand. ���Always, your Majesty!”

“Good! While Star holds the barrier down, Wilhelmina, Paulina, and I will try to restrain our little friend long enough for the girls to escape. As soon as the last girl has left the room, you have to throw the potion at the monster. It’s the only way to take care of it!” She then turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Star, the moment this thing’s all tied up, you let your barrier go so the girls can leave, got it?”

“Yes, my Queen!” Both girls exclaimed in unison, readying themselves. 

“Very well. Wilhelmina, Paulina,” she called out to them, “you take care of binding the reptile with me. Wilhelmina, since you’ve got the potions, you take care of its hind legs and tail; Paulina, you tie its left paw down. Ready?” Getting twin nods from her fellow witches, they all charged against the monster. 

As Sam and Paulina projected their respective animas in the form of a lasso with a scream of “Conjunctionis ligaveris!”, Wilhelmina used her own essence to propel herself above the beast, landing nimbly behind it. While the young queen and the Latina struggled to keep the reptile in place, their purple and soft pink animas tied tightly around its front paws, the potion-maker rummaged through her trusty bag, looking for her BubbleBomb potion. At the same time as she tried to dodge the animal’s large tail. 

Maybe Susan was right and she did need to organise her collection in a pair of twin bandoliers, just like her apprentice. 

Just as she was beginning to get frustrated, her finger brushed against a sticky substance. A familiar, sticky substance. Crying out in triumph, she got the jar with the sticky, pink slime from inside of her bag, just in time to be lifted up in the air by the force behind the collision of the iguana’s tail hitting the ground. Using her momentum, Wilhelmina smashed the bottle against the floor, which then exploded in a bubble of pink slime, effectively restraining the giant reptile’s movements.

“Girls, now!” Sam cried out, struggling to keep her focus long enough to keep the iguana down for much longer. 

The kids didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as their queen gave the order, they got out from their hiding spot and ran towards the door, where Star was waiting for them. Upon seeing them, she lowered her barrier, exhaling in between pants due to the physical exertion, thus allowing the group of kids to leave the room safe and sound. 

Smiling at their retrieving forms, Star cupped a hand around her mouth to call out to the, now, youngest witch in the room. “Susan, it’s all up to you now!”

Determined to not let her queen and mentor down, Susan ran towards the closest wall before leaping in the air feet-first towards it. The moment her feet came into contact with its surface, the teenager propelled herself to rise high above the ginormous beast. As soon as she was within optimal range, she hurled the spherical jar at it, which broke against the iguana’s hard-as-steel scales. In an instant, a cloud of turquoise, twinkling smoke enveloped the beast. 

Coughing and clearing the air around her with a wave of her hand, Sam dared look up to the direction the large creature once stood at. To her immense relief, she saw nothing. So willing her magic to deactivate, she walked over to where the, now, normal-sized iguana was. 

Smiling, she picked the lizard up. “You gave us quite the scare, right, little guy?”

“What do you intend to do with it, your Majesty?” Susan asked as soon as she nimbly landed on her feet the same way a professional gymnast would. 

“Why don’t you keep it? I believe you’ve mentioned Duke Scalynton needed a friend a few times now.” She suggested as she handed the iguana to the potion-maker in-training.

Looking down at the iguana in her hands, she turned to her mentor. “Would that be alright, Ms. Redring?”

“Perfectly so, Susan. Don’t worry.” Wilhelmina assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did well today.”

Susan smiled brightly at that. Sam, on the contrary, could only frown at her. “Wilhelmina, the kids told me you were supposed to be looking after them, but you left them to clean everything by themselves before classes were officially over.”

The Minister of War remained impassive. “My apologies, your Majesty. I had other matters to attend to that required my immediate attention, and since today’s potion was rather simple, I supposed they’d be fine on their own for a few minutes.”

“So because you had better things to do you completely ignored one of our most important rules and risked the lives of six little girls in the process?” Sam seethed, arms crossed, her eyes blazing a dangerous, dark violet for a second. 

Wilhelmina narrowed her own eyes on her. “Careful, your Majesty. I don’t believe you’re in any position to say anything. Seeing as how often you completely disregard protocol; or have you already forgotten that you should have waited for back up before facing off against the threat yourself, hm?”

Sam balled her hands into fists at her sides, knowing, and hating, that she had her there. Turning around to leave the room, she spat. “Just, don’t let it happen again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, my Queen.” The brunette let out, almost sinisterly. 

Susan was petting her new pet when she noticed a shadow casted over her. Looking up, she almost gasped. “You did well today, girl. Just, do me a favour and keep that thing away from me.” Paulina told her with a smile, keeping a respectable distance between herself and the iguana in the teenager’s arms. 

Susan’s mind, other times sharp and focused, was suddenly completely blank. Mouth hanging open and eyes blinking at random intervals, she was sure she was gaping at the beautiful woman before her. “Uh...I...I mean…,” she stammered, “y-you look good, too! I-I mean! You did good, too. Obviously. Ah! Not like you don’t look good, too! You always look good! Just...you know, yeah…” She finished lamely. 

Oh, why couldn’t the iguana have eaten her before she spouted all that nonsense?!

“Okay…” The Latina drawled. “Well, I gotta go. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya…” The teenage girl sighed dreamily, before realising what she was doing and facepalming herself. 

Now that they were outside of the training room and accompanying Sam to her quarters, for they had to help her get ready, Paulina eyed her best friend’s knowing grin in distaste. “What?” She snapped. 

“Somebody’s got a crush on you!” The blonde teased in a sing-song voice, the shit-eating grin never leaving her face. 

But the Latina just huffed. “Please! And who doesn’t? I’ve had my fair share of admirers since we were in ninth grade, Star. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“That may be true,” Star conceded, “but I think this is the first time a younger girl’s crushing on you and you’re actually nice to her. The Pauli from back in Senior year would’ve crushed her dreams in a heartbeat.” She commented offhandedly, ignoring the look of pure horror flashing through their Queen’s face. 

The blue-eyed beauty just rolled her eyes. Since she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end, she often forgot how ruthless her best friend could be when she was met with some quality gossip. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Star! And Susan’s a good kid, of course I’m not going to be a bitch to her.”

“So you like her back?” The blonde asked, now feeling apprehensive. 

“Are you crazy?!” Paulina snapped at her, turning her face in her direction so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “First of all, she’s seventeen! I might like to party, but I’d never date a minor.” She sniffed in displeasure. Seriously, what was this girl thinking?! 

Her fellow handmaiden sighed in relief. “Thank Goodness, I was actually worried for a second. Just...try letting her down gently, okay?” 

“Who do you take me for? Besides, even if she were our age, which, again, she’s not, I just don’t swing that way.”

Star let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t try selling me the ‘I don’t swing that way excuse’, I’ve seen you throw your principles out of the window for the sake of screwing people over. And about letting her down gently, admit it Pauli, you can be a bit of a bitch.”

Sam, not daring to say a word, could only furrow her brow at what her subjects were saying. “What the Hell?”

Ignoring their queen’s silent judgement, Paulina gasped in surprise. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Rather than backing off given her friend’s reaction, Star only snorted. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t remember that one time in ninth grade that you agreed to go to homecoming with a complete loser just so Dash could play a joke on him.” Then, she turned pensive. “Hm, now that I think about it, we never did pull the prank on him...I wonder why.” She muttered to herself. 

Paulina’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape at the reminder. “Oooooh, that’s right! Yes, I did totally do that. Such a shame the guy was a total loser; he at least had decent taste in jewelry.”

The two kept chattering away until they noticed their queen’s appalled expression, her jaw hanging low. Giggling sheepishly, Paulina tried to save some face, Star nodding with a forced smile beside her. “That was a long time ago. We’ve grown up, we promise.” 

Blinking slowly at them, Sam forced her mouth shut. Doing a dusting-her-hands-off motion, she symbolically separated herself from anything having to do with their high school lives. “Something tells me we wouldn’t have got along growing up.”

“Then isn’t it great we only met outside of high school?” Star offered. 

“I think I’d much rather you just talk to me either about things going on inside the manor, or whatever crazy shit you’re up to at college.” The violet-eyed witch insisted as she turned her doorknob to let them in. For that day’s appointment she wanted to spice things up a little, but she still wanted a simple look that matched with her usual self, hence why she needed the girls’ help. 

“Oh. My. God!” Paulina exclaimed, raising her palms up as she entered the room. “You will not believe the drama that’s stirring at APU right now!”

Star, who was already seated on one of Sam’s chairs, made a sound of appreciation. “Ooooh! Do tell.”

As Sam went over to her closet and began to randomly pick up different clothes to ask the girl’s opinion onーt-shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses even…ーPaulina went on with her retelling, she and Star sporadically putting a stop on their conversation to give their queen some feedback. “Remember Tiffany? That two-faced, bitchy classmate of mine who’s been totally jealous of me since, like, forever?”

“Tiffany is a rather stereotypically bitchy name.” Sam commented, her focus on two different t-shirts. “As in, high school queen bee, cheerleader captain kind of bitchy.”

“I was a high school queen bee, cheerleader captain, Sam.” Paulina deadpanned. 

“Oh!” Sam faulted, biting her lip in embarrassment as she wondered how she’d fix that one. “Well, your name is not stereotypically bitchy...Tiffany is. I mean, how many high school chick flick villains are dumb blondes called Brittany, or Tiffany, or Cassidy…?”

“She does have a point.” Star conceded, propping her elbow against the chair’s back. 

With her index and thumb cupping her chin, the Latina ‘hmmed’ in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Anyway, Sandra told me that Luka told her that Eliza told him that Tiffany’s out to get me ‘cause she’s so jealous it’s ripping her apart.”

As her ladies-in-waiting turned down her latest outfit, Sam arched an eyebrow, not following the conversation. “But didn’t you just say she’s always been jealous of you? What’s new about that?”

“What’s new is that now she’s jealous of me because Brad Carmichael, her ex-boyfriend with whom she broke up because he was dating a girl from Elmerton University behind her backーnot like she’s been a model girlfriend herself, if you know what I meanー, is apparently into me. And she can’t stand it.”

“But are you into Brad?” Star questioned, while Sam was busier wondering how she even managed to keep track of what Paulina was talking about in the first place. She’d already forgotten the guy’s name was Brad, for fuck’s sake! Her best guess was that keeping up with the latest gossip was some sort of ‘popular girl’ superpower.

Paulina let herself flop down on Sam’s bed with a noncommittal sound coming from her throat. “I mean, Brad’s cute, but I’m sort of seeing Matthew at the moment you know?”

“Sort of seeing?” Sam echoed. 

“Yeah, he wants us to go steady but, like, I don’t know if I want to tie myself down to anyone right now, you know? I just don’t think I’m ready to be ‘Matthew’s girlfriend.’ But I know that if I tell him that, he’ll think I want to stop going out altogether, when I just don’t want to rush to label what we have. That’s all.”

“Why do you even have to become ‘Matthew’s girlfriend’? Why can’t he be ‘Paulina’s boyfriend’?” For a moment there, Sam worried the feminist inside her had ruined the conversation, if their silence was any indication, until Paulina, almost automatically, moved to a sitting position, looking like she’d just had a spiritual awakening.

“OMG, you’re so right! “ She exclaimed. “If Matthew can’t accept being labeled my boyfriend, then he’s not worthy of my time. Period. Thanks for the advice, Sam.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Sam said, feeling unsure. “Now, could you guys please help me get ready? ‘Cause I still don’t know what to wear…”

Both ladies-in-waiting exchanged a glance, before shrugging. Star was the one who voiced their opinion. “The clothes you have in your hands right now are fine. Just combine them with your usual look and you’ve got your casual, yet original, outfit.”

Looking down at the items in hand, Sam had to admit, they really seemed perfect. “Thanks, girls. You two are the best.”

“We know.” They said in unison.

............

The Verde Que te Quiero Verde was the latest rage in vegetarian restaurants. The establishment was owned by a couple of elderly Mexican immigrants who, per their grandson’s suggestion, had given the typical Tex-Mex food a vegan spin. 

All websites reviewing the place gave nothing but praise to the meals and service, and about half of the comments recommended asking for their nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese. Its prices were also known for being very reasonable. 

‘Lowly’ Mexican food turned vegan and exorbitant-prices free, the kind of place Pamela Manson would rather die than step foot in. 

Which was why Sam was so thankful that Saturday night it was just her dad and her, for her mother was busy background checking anyone who wanted to rent the manor for the upcoming Halloween. 

Her dad and her were already seated and looking over the menus, but she couldn’t help being distracted by her surroundings. Despite the more modern take, the Verde Que te Quiero Verde resembled the typical Mexican hacienda, with its white-chalk walls, the red tile roofs, its arches… The restaurant was even a two-story building whose second floor, which held even more tables, had balconies offering a nice view of the fountain in the middle of the room and tables surrounding it below. 

It was positively lovely. 

And yet...Sam couldn’t quite enjoy it as much as she’d like. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely off with Wilhelmina. Leaving a group of inexperienced, little girls at their mercy while they performed magic? What was she thinking?! She had no idea how lucky she was, had anything happened to any of the girls and she would’ve been put to trial, leading to losing her position as Council member, at best, or to being expelled from the coven altogether, at worst. 

Subconsciously, Sam gripped her menu a little tighter. Wilhelmina was already around when she was a kid and Grandma Ida was still queen. Back then, she remembered, she gave off this strict and stern vibe, even more so than Margaret with her by-the-book nature. But ever since she ascended to the throne, her strictiness had turned into outright arrogance. 

Back when she was fourteen and had just volunteered herself as the next queen, Wilhelmina seemed the less willing to give in. She was the quickest to point out her age and inexperience, and Margaret and the, then, newly appointed Delilah miraculously managed to get their fellow member to give her a chance. If just barely. 

Even know, after seven years of devout sacrifice in the name of the Amity Park Clan, that frustrating pain in the butt still hadn’t let go of her reservations towards her; often making snide comments that casted doubts on her leadershipーlike the one from earlier…ー, or looking over her shoulder with an air of superiority. 

All that, Sam could, begrudgingly, put up with. But putting innocent kids in harm’s way and then having the gall to act all smug on her?! What if Phantom had been right? What if there really were witches up to no good right under her nose? What if…?

“Sammy?” Her dad’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife cut through butter. 

“Huh?” She responded, oh, so eloquently. 

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for a while now and you haven’t answered until now. Also, it looks like you’ve tried to strangle your menu over some sort of terrible crime…” He pointed at the crumbled piece of paper in her hands to demonstrate his point. 

Looking down and noticing the mess she’d made of the poor aforementioned piece of paper, she set it down gently with a sheepish smile on her face, “I’m fine, Dad. Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.” At her dad’s questioning, raised eyebrow she elaborated. “Frustrating stuff.”

“Kiddo, please, enter a literary contest; you’re so eloquent and articulate.” Jeremy deadpanned, setting his own menu down and propping his chin on his intertwined hands.

Sam rolled her eyes, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hilarious, Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be the preppy and optimistic one of the two?”

“I am.” He agreed. “But I’m also a Manson and your Grandma’s son. So you could say snarking runs in the family.”

Parents looking as smug and self-satisfied as her dad did at that moment should be illegal. Crossing her arms with a scowl, Sam slouched on her seat. “Whatever.”

Jeremy just shook his head fondly at his daughter. “You’re lucky your mother isn’t here right now, young lady. Otherwise, she would scold you on your posture.”

The mere mention of her mother made her straighten up, reflexively. 

“But now seriously, kiddo. What’s the matter? You know you can talk to your old man about anything.” He offered her an encouraging smile. 

Unfortunately, his readiness to be there for her only made her heart sank. No, I can’t, she wanted to say, but instead opted for, “I’m...having trouble with a...with a classmate.” She lied, hating herself for it. “I was elected as team leader, but she’s never quite been able to accept it. Maybe she wanted the position herself, maybe she just doesn’t think I’m good for the job...I don’t know. All I know is that she makes no effort in hiding her displeasure.

“Which, okay. I can take it, I guess. I mean, one more person who doesn’t like me! Boy is that old news...But she’s made a mistake recently and she didn’t even apologise; she just rubbed my own mistakes in my face. And I...I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

Jeremy stayed quiet for a minute, just observing his daughter with a keen eye. Maybe saying he and Sam were close was a little far-fetched; Pamela and, surprisingly enough, his mother had always insisted on signing her up for a million extracurricular activities growing upーironic, when one took the fact that she’d also been homeschooled for most of her life into consideration. But he’d learned long ago to not question it, after all, their Sammy had turned out okay and very capable in the end. 

He had to admit, he didn’t always understand her, either. Like her interest in the occult, her love for loud, unsavory bands with questionable taste in names, or her insistence on being identified as a Goth since she was twelve. As a man used to making his wife happy with diamonds the size of strawberries, giving his daughter spiked collars for her birthday left him feeling a little queasy. But, hey, if it made her happy… As long as she didn’t join a cult he was golden.

But there were still moments when even Sam, his strong-willed, independent, confident baby girl, felt vulnerable against the cruel world she lived in. And it was in those moments when he had to take the lead and be the responsible authority figure in the relationship. Moments like now. 

Reaching across the table, he rested his hand atop of hers, directing her attention to him. “Sometimes people will try to make our lives difficult, but we mustn’t let that stop us from doing what we think it’s right. So your friend doesn’t think you’re doing a good job leading the team? Then let her think that! If it’s only one person who feels that way, then she’s probably just trying to mess with you.

“But if the other people in your group feel the same way, then maybe you should take a moment to reevaluate things. Don’t be afraid to ask this girl about her opinion. Who knows? Maybe she does have something valuable to contribute.”

Alright, this was all great advice for actual teamwork, but it didn’t apply to her problem. She was trying to rule a coven, not decorate the gym for the upcoming prom. “What are you trying to say, Dad?”

“I just think you shouldn’t take everything on by yourself, Sammy.” He said as he patted her hand, then he leaned back on his chair at the same time as he picked his forgotten menu up. “Now, do you know what you want to eat, or should we wait a few more minutes?”

Sam couldn’t help sending her dad a small smile, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was about to answer when she caught sight of something over his shoulder that made her breath hitch. “Holy shit!”

Jeremy’s head shot up at that. “Samantha, language!”

Uh, oh. He used her full name. “Uh, sorry about that, Dad.” She apologised sheepishly, before standing up and pointing behind him, much to Jeremy’s horror. What was up with this girl’s manners today!? “It’s just that I know the person who’s just entered the restaurant.”

Turning around much more discreetly than Sam, Jeremy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You mean the people talking to the maître d’?” 

Completely unaware of the fact that they were the focus of the conversation of two of the restaurant’s patrons, Jazz and Danny stood at the entrance, talking to the maître d’. Well, Jazz was talking to the maître d’, looking almost unhinged, Danny was just praying they wouldn’t be kicked out just because his sister had chosen now, of all times, to act as unreasonable as their dad.

“What do you mean there’s no table available?!” She screeched, causing a few customers to turn around to look at her and her brother to look away in embarrassment. “I made the reservation almost two weeks ago! Fenton, Jazz Fenton. Come on, I highly doubt there’s many more Fentons in Amity Park.”

The man tending to them had to be the most patient person on the planet, Danny figured. Or the most emotionless. “My apologies, Miss. But there really is no reservation under a Jazz Fenton.”

“Maybe you put it under another member of the family?” Danny offered before addressing the headwaiter himself. “How about under Danny Fenton?”

The employee looked through his agenda before shaking his head. 

“And Maddie Fenton?” Jazz tried.

Again, the man shook his head no. 

“Jack Fenton?” She was starting to grow desperate now. 

And, again, no such luck. 

Watching as Jazz’s eye started twitching, Danny genuinely feared he’d have to restrain his sister from doing something crazy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone’s attention. Looking at the direction the sound came from, the Fenton siblings could only gape at the sight of a middle-aged man with perfectly coiffed, blond hair, dark blue eyes, and sharply dressed with a crochet vest, light, khaki pants, and black dress shoes standing before them. 

The mysterious man turned to the maître d’. “It’s quite alright, my good sir. They’re with us.”

The emotionless man suddenly developed a personality, for he smiled brightly at the other man. “Oh, I see! Would you like some extra chairs, sir?”

“If you don’t mind.” 

“Of course, we’ll bring some extra chairs, utensils, and menus to your table momentarily.” And with that the waiter left them alone. 

The blond turned to them, a welcoming smile on his face. “Don’t be shy, you two. Come sit with us.” And, by some sort of spell, they followed after him. 

In the meantime, brother and sister shared a questioning glance. They were both obviously curious as to who these ‘us’ were. Clearing his throat, Danny ventured. “Um, excuse me sir, but do we know you?”

The mystery, well-dressed man just laughed cordially. “Oh, no. You certainly don’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t know you, either. But my daughter seems to know you, young man.”

Before Danny could so much as ask what he was even talking about, the man stopped beside a table, motioning with his hand to his companion. The halfa almost fell flat on his butt in astonishment. 

Getting up from her chair was Sam. Although she had a different outfit than usual, her style was still mostly casual, as opposed to her companion’s preppy clothes.

She was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a drawing of a purple rose on it (why was it so familiar?); a neon green skirt with a spiderweb pattern; a spiked collar with a purple pendant was around her neck; and she wore fingerless, black fishnet gloves. Other than that she looked the same as always. She still had her trademark combat boots and thigh-length, purple stockings on, and her hair was still long and black on one side, while the other was shaved with purple undertones; a green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking up. 

“Sam, is that you?” He breathed out.

The girl in question could barely believe her eyes. Right in front of her was Danny. She was almost stunned she could recognise him practically anywhere. But then she rationalised; of course she’d recognise him! He looked practically the same as always! With his messy, jet-black hair falling down his face; a pair of blue jeans, his favourite red sneakers...The only thing different about him was the hoodie he was wearing, really. It was mostly white, except for its red cuffs, zipper, draw strings, and the circle it had plastered on its front. 

...well, the only thing that was different was his hoodie and the girl beside him, now that she took a better look. 

She was around her height, but she seemed slightly older. She was a redhead sporting a cute pixie cut, with a lovely face and striking, aqua eyes. The girl was wearing a square, teal plaid dress over a white, long-sleeved shirt, and black tights with white boots. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated, except for a brown, leather shoulder bag that seemed oddly out of place. 

Sam was sure she had never seen her before, but she was just so familiar…

Noticing she was up and Danny was still waiting for her answer, she hurriedly went over to him to shake his and his companion’s hands. “Yes! Yes, it’s me, Danny. And...I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you are…?”

“Oh, I’m Jazz!” The mysterious girl perked up. “I’m Danny’s sister.”

“Oh, she’s just his sister,” Sam thought to herself, relieved. Wait, relieved? What did she have to be worried about? She thought best to shake those feelings off and stow them for later. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam, a friend of Danny’s.”

Jazz’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, so you’re Sam! Danny’s told me about you.”

“He has?” Both Mansons asked, but for completely different reasons. And only one of them knew exactly why they asked. 

Just as they were introducing themselves, the restaurant’s staff came and set the two extra chairs and items down. His senses tinglingーonly it wasn’t his Ghost Sense, but a sense of danger he couldn’t quite put his finger onー, Danny focused his attention on the other man at the table, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him, for some reason. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

The blond plastered a smile on his face as they finally sat down. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed friendly, but to Danny it looked oddly sinister. “Oh, my bad. I’m Jeremy, Jeremy Manson. I’m Sam’s father.”

While a primal fear clutched Danny’s heart in an iron grip, Jazz audibly gasped. “Wait, Jeremy Manson? As in, the Mansons?”

His sister’s astonished expression, as well as Sam’s mortified one, enabled him to ignore his sudden worries for a minute in favour of his curiosity. “You know them?” He asked his sister. 

In turn, Jazz just scoffed, looking away from him in exasperation. Of course not only would Danny have no idea who he hung out with, he also had to embarrass them right in front of the two people in question. “Danny, I think you’re literally the only person in all of Amity Park who doesn’t know them. Ironically…” Seeing as he still didn’t get the hint, she gave up. “The Mansons are the descendants of Izzy Manson, the inventor of the machine that wraps cellophane around chopsticks, and therefore, they oversee the patent.”

“So, you’re saying…” 

Ugh, somebody put her out of her misery, goddamnit! “She’s saying we’re rich, Danny. Very. Stinking. Rich.” Sam deadpanned. Well, there went that little piece of information she didn’t like her friends finding out about. Although, a part of her was about to burst out laughing at the way the boy’s eyes all but popped out of their sockets. 

Danny, on his part, didn’t know what was more shocking. The fact that Sam came from a wealthy family, or the fact that she, a cynical, brooding, activism-oriented girl, was related to classy, perky, sunny Jeremy Manson. They literally had nothing in common! Not even facial features! Unless Sam was just a carbon copy of her mother, those were some weird genetics. 

Danny’s prolonged silence made her grow anxious, so Sam quickly changed topics. “So...what are you doing here? You know this place serves vegetables, right?” She just hoped their usual teasing dynamics would save them from the awkwardness. 

Luckily for her, it did. The halfa countered her teasing tone with an easy grin. “Yeah, I know. But Jazz was really looking forward to coming to this place and, since convincing our fudge-loving father to take her would have been impossible, she played the older sister card on me.”

Jazz just huffed in response. “Oh, shut up. Just be thankful this is a vegan, Mexican restaurant; you’re bound to find something you like.”

“Yeah, I can always just stuff my face on nachos with guacamole.” He quipped back. 

The hazel-eyed student turned her focus to the older girl, her face lighting up. “Oh! You’re vegan?”

“Oh, no. I’m not. I’m just much more willing to eat healthy food than my brother, who I still don’t understand how he could’ve grown so much given his atrocious diet!” She finished pointedly. 

“Hey!” Danny protested. “My diet’s not ‘atrocious’! So what if I’m not actively looking for vegan restaurants? I still eat everything I need.”

“I once saw you eat nothing but oreos and soda for two weeks when you were sixteen.” His sister pointed out, without missing a beat. 

That made him wince, not appreciating the reminder. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my best moment. But, the soda gave me the liquids and sugar I needed and the oreos gave me carbohydrates and proteinーmaybe, if they’re baked with milk…”

“Oreos are actually vegan.” Sam pointed out. 

Although her comment was meant to annul his point, it seemed to validate it, instead, for he sent a smug look at Jazz. “Ha! You heard that? Turns out I’m healthier than you, Daisy Green.”

“Oh, just shut up.” His sister grunted, exasperated. 

The father-daughter duo just exchanged glances, not used to this sort of family interactions. After a beat, Jeremy spoke up. “How about we order, huh?”

Picking up his own menu, Danny’s face morphed itself in confusion. “Uh...I have literally no idea what to ask for. Sam, you’re the expert, what do you recommend?”

By his side, Jazz perked up. “That’s right! You’re vegan aren’t you?”

“Ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.” She corrected, although she wasn’t sure why; nobody ever really got the difference.

And, lo and behold, neither did Jazz. “Pardon?”

Sam was about to tell her to let it go, when Danny beat her to it. “Sam doesn’t just avoid eating anything with a face, she also eats everything on her plate.”

When he sent her a wink and a friendly smile, Sam almost puddled. She soon regained her senses, though. Alright, so it was touching that he retained that piece of information when most people tended to forget all about it, but that still wasn’t grounds to make a fool out of herself. Finally, she opted for pushing those feelings aside. “This is my first time here, too. But as the only experienced veggie-eater at the table, I’d suggest that if you’re not feeling up to experimenting with new things, then just stick to what you’d usually order from a regular Taco Bell.”

She lowered her menu for them to see as she pointed at certain meals. “For example, Danny, you could try ordering the Burrito Vegano. Judging by its ingredients, it's exactly the same as your usual burrito except for the lack of meat. So you shouldn’t miss much.

“If any of you feels more adventurous, then you could try the vegan Quesadillas, just keep in mind that rather than being exactly the same as the regular ones but with vegetables, instead of cheese they have humus.”

“What about snacks?” Jeremy asked, as enthralled in her explanation as their impromptu guests. 

“Oh, I’m definitely ordering their famous nachos with guacamole and vegan nacho cheese. Everyone recommends it.”

“What’s vegan nacho cheese even made of?” Danny scrunched his face up in disgust. “Is it even edible?”

Sam scoffed. Typical carnivore response. “Not any less than the barely passable-for-human-consumption, acrylic orange paint that is the usual nacho cheese. And to answer your question, it’s made of carrots and peppers.”

“Wow.” Danny breathed, impressed once again by Sam’s ability to monologue without the need for breath. “You really have a strong opinion on nacho cheese.”

“Oh, you don’t even know half of the things she has a strong opinion on.” Jeremy muttered. 

Before Sam could so much as protest at her dad’s familiar exasperation at her altruistic ways, a waiter, notepad and pen in hand, appeared behind her. “Have the ladies and gentlemen made their decision yet?”

Looking over the table and receiving nods in confirmation, the Manson patriarch took the lead. “I believe we have.”

“Excellent.” The waiter said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Well, I’d normally ask for a bottle of your best wine, but I’m driving tonight, so I’ll have a Mr. Pepper.”

“Of course, sir. And everyone else?”

“I’m driving too, so I’ll have a Lemon Nestea, please.” Jazz said. 

It was Danny’s turn. “I’m not driving. I’ll have a beer.” 

“We serve Coronita, is that alright with you, sir?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Finally, he turned to Sam. “And you, Miss?”

“Another beer’s fine.”

The waiter wrote everything down. “Alright, so that’s a Mr. Pepper, a Lemon Nestea, and two beers; is that right?” At the sounds of agreement, he went on. “Alright. Have you decided on your food yet, or do you need more time?”

It was Sam’s turn to perk up. “We’ll have some nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese to share. I’ll have the Tofu Tacos; You make them yourself once they’re served, right?” The waiter nodded. “Then, yes. The tacos.” Then she pointed at her dad. “And my Dad’ll have the fajitas.” 

As their waiter wrote everything down, she directed her attention at the siblings. “And you guys…?”

“Hm, I think I’ll have the vegan quesadillas.” Jazz said. “I gotta admit, when you said they have humus I’d already made up my mind! And you, Danny?”

Danny kept frantically scanning his menu. He didn’t know what half of those things were! All he knew was that it was Mexican food with extra vegetables. “Uh...I...I’ll have the Burrito Vegano?” He just hoped Sam was right and it’d be similar to the regular thing. 

“An excellent choice.” The waiter commented before taking their menus away. “Your drinks and nachos will be out shortly.”

After the waiter left, they kept on chattering idly about everything and nothing. How Sam and Danny knew each other, why Jeremy had, completely out of the blue, decided to let them have dinner with them, what their parents’ did for a living… That’s when things got a little awkward. Although Mr. Manson was trying his hardest to remain neutralーSam’s constant glares served as a good incentiveーit was plain to see he didn’t think highly of their parents and their job. 

Danny and Jazz would be lying if they said they weren’t already used to it, or even understood his concerns. 

Just as their drinks were being served, Mr. Manson’s cell phone started ringing. He took a quick glance at the caller and immediately winced, which didn’t go unnoticed by his daughter. “Dad…? Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh! Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, kiddo. I just have to take this real quick.” He explained as he got up from his chair, about to make his way to a less crowded area of the restaurant. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is he okay?” Jazz asked, slightly concerned. 

Sam could only shrug in response. “He says so.” Noticing the sudden rise in tension, she chose to change topics instead. “Um, I don’t really have any siblings to know better but, you two are close, right? I know my fair share of families who wouldn’t spend any non-essential time together otherwise.” Like mine, was what she didn’t say.

“You could say that.” Jazz replied, almost enigmatically. 

Normally, Danny wouldn’t go into detail as to why he and Jazz were so closeーthree guesses why and the first two didn’t countーbut there was something about Sam that told him she would understand. Granted, he couldn’t tell her everything, let alone in the middle of a relatively crowded restaurant, but he could shed some light over her queries. He guessed he felt the need to be open and share things with her because the other day she opened up to him and Tucker.

“Well,” he started, “if I’m being honest, I’ve always been closer to my older sister than my parents…”

"How so?" Sam couldn't believe she had the nerve to ask him that when her own relationship with her parents was, most of the time, rocky, at best. 

Did she really have to put him on the spot like that? “No, Danny,” he scolded himself, “you wanted to be honest with her yourself. Don’t blame it on her.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to explain as best as he could while revealing as little as possible. “Uh... it's just...my parents are ghosthunters, as you know, so ghosts have always been present in my house, making things incredibly difficult for Jazz and me growing up.” Like eating savage, ecto-wieners for dinner, having every single personal problem compared to some ghost-hunting analogy, or being mortified and ostracised by his peers as a result. “And things...things only got even more complicated when I was a teenager.”

That was the part he couldn’t go in detail about. Mainly because what truly made things more complicated was the fact that all deep conversations, honesty, and family bonds were tattered the moment he became the very half-ghost whose dissection his parents often fantasized about. “As a result, I guess you could say Jazz and I ganged up together. The Fenton siblings against the world when our parents were too busy with their job.” When he felt Jazz’s warm hand on his cold one, he couldn't help but meet her concerned face with a small smile in thanks for everything she’d ever done for him.

A wave of sympathy washed over Sam at Danny and Jazz's predicament. It was easy to forget Amity Park didn't even know ghosts existed until seven years ago, when Phantom and his putrid kind appeared out of the blue, because witches never forgot their existence in the first place. She could understand being overlooked in favour of creatures of dubious existence must've caused them great pain growing up.

Noticing her heartbroken look, Danny immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Don’t worry, though. We might not be as close to our parents as we were when we were little, but we still all love each other.”

“Yeah,” Jazz assured her, “no need to feel bad for us, Sam. It’s still nice to see a daughter being close to her dad like you two are.” Her words were meant to bring the hazel-eyed Goth comfort, but her brows knitted together in concern at the look on her face.

Albeit Sam was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lowering her head, almost hiding her face from view, she shook it, sadly.

After a minute or two of silence Danny was about to ask her if she was alright when she spoke. “Don’t let appearances fool you; my Dad and I aren’t exactly close, either.”

“But...but you two seem to get along so well…” Jazz started, but was cut off by Sam.

“We get along,” she confirmed, “but we’ve never been close. My parents are the complete opposite of me, and it showsーthey’ve never been able to understand me, my Grandma did.”

Danny almost regretted having to ask. “Is your Grandma…?”

The Goth just nodded. “She passed away when I was fourteen. She was the only person to ever understand me and accept me for who I am. You could say I’ve been on my own ever since, although in a psychological/spiritual sense.”

“Is that the reason why you’re Goth?” Jazz couldn’t hold herself back from asking, her psychologist instincts taking the reins of the situation. Shocked at her behaviour, Danny kicked her gently on her shin from under the table. 

He ignored her glare in favour of distracting Sam from her question. “What about your mother, aren’t you two close?”

The harsh laugh she let out startled them both. “I might not be close to my Dad, but compared to my relationship with my mother, I’m practically a daddy’s girl.”

A shadow casted over her hazel eyes, other times so full of fire and mischief, and Danny didn’t like it one bit. Reaching over to grab her hand in his, making her gasp in surprise, he sent her a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing that about yourself with us.”

She returned the smile. “Thank you for sharing that about your parents with me.”

They kept staring into each other’s eyes, not caring about anything around them, until the clatter of the nacho plate being set down on their table broke them out of their thoughts. While Danny chose to ignore her sister’s annoying smirk, Sam thanked the waiter. Then, she turned to the siblings. “Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!”

They did as they were told, and their faces split in matching grins. Hmming in appreciation, the black-haired half-ghost dipped another tortilla chip into the vegan cheese. “This ain’t half bad!”

Sam just chuckled. “Told you.”

After a, surprisingly, rather pleasant dinner between the two different families, it was time to say goodbye. Since they were the ones driving them home, Jazz and Mr. Manson left first to look for their respective cars, leaving Danny and Sam some extra time to talk. 

“Well, that was a pleasant surprise.” Danny commented, putting his hands inside his hoodie’s pocket. 

“Yeah, it really was.” Sam smiled when, suddenly, a cold breeze whooshed by, making her shiver. 

Noticing her hugging herself from the corner of his eyes, he immediately took action. “Here, let me help. It’s starting to get cold.” He said, even when his cryokinesis made him immune to cold years ago.

“Danny, I’m fineー” she began, but was interrupted by Danny slipping his hoodie on over her shoulders. As he lent her his jacket, their eyes locked. For a moment, time stopped. The Earth stopped moving. Nothing else mattered but each other’s eyes; Danny’s precious baby blue, and Sam’s vibrant hazel. Then, the sound of a not-so-distant honk broke the spell, causing them to quickly avert their eyes, a hint of pink dusting their cheeks.

Sam wasn’t cold anymore. 

As Jazz opened the door for Danny, he waved her goodbye, which Sam returned. Now that she was alone with her thoughtsーand Danny’s hoodieーwaiting for her Dad to appear with his own car, she couldn’t stop herself from sniffing the garment. It smelled like wood and freshly rained soil, but there was something else. Something...familiar she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Whatever it was, she liked it. 

It smelled like Danny.

#Danny Phantom #DP #dp fanfic #your heart #my fic #danny fenton #sam manson #valerie gray #jazz fenton #jeremy manson #paulina sanchez #dp star #oc #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen! sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

[starryseung]

since you just wrote a jealous hyunjin fic, can you write a jealous jisung fic pls?

han jisung + smut

☾ 

word count: 1.1k words warnings; car sex, dom!han, orgasm denial, a pinch of angst, unprotected sex

Exes and Dates

Jisung huffed for the umpteenth time when he saw you hugging your friend one last time before bidding him goodbye. He watched the two of you exchange sweet smiles, your hands still held in the grasp of your high school friend, Kim Seungmin. Oh, how he despised that guy— who was your first real fling, who stole your first kiss, your first ‘I love you’— your first everything, basically. He hated how you still kept contact with him, after breaking up a couple years ago due to personal disagreements. But he was the happiest man in the world when you started dating him, and he promised you from day one, though your firsts were all done, your lasts would definitely be under his umbrella. 

And now, seeing you with him when you two were on a date, pissed him off. He even went as far as to tug you and ‘psst’ at you, but you simply ignored his attempts, continuing to chat with your ex. In front of your boyfriend. On a date. 

You didn’t know how in-deep-shit you were, until you finished your conversation and turned to Jisung, glaring at you like he was going to skin either you, or your friend alive. You gulp and walk towards him, eyes lowered to your now, sweaty palms. His gaze never falters, and once you reach him, you feel his hands entwine in yours, hauling you towards the nearest exit. You clutch Jisung’s hand tightly, mumbling a few apologies to the families you bumped into on the way to your car. He leaves your hand to unlock the car and hop in, and you do the same. 

The ride home is awkwardly silent. You could feel heat rising from Jisung, and you dared to switch the radio on. You could feel your skin crawling and blood curdling when Jisung merely stares at you when he parks the car in the driveway. You couldn’t look at him in the eyes; not when you fucked up so bad back at the mall. 

“I’m… sorr—”

“Do you realize how much you were irking me out there? How stupid I was feeling when my fucking girlfriend was out there talking to her ex! And not just at any time, on our fucking date!”

You winced at the tone he was using, but realized you did such a thing to rile him up as well. You think of trying to face him and apologize, but it’s too late, because Jisung holds at your chin to make you face him and crashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the usual giggly pecks or passionate kisses, this one was full of lust, desire; want.

He doesn’t even prep you, before you feel his tongue practically shoved into your mouth, the muscle pumping itself against your lips. His hand runs up your side, nestling in the crook of your neck, while the other fumbles with the zipper on his black skinny jeans. He bites at your bottom lip, pulling the flesh between his teeth and eliciting a moan from you. He pulls away to fold down his seat and moves over to the back and you follow suit. He resumes, pulling down his jeans and your sundress, licking his lips at the sight of you wearing nothing but your underwear. 

He reattaches his lips to yours, devouring the sweet taste of your strawberry chapstick. His hand reaches down to rub you through your panties, pressing the fabric against your throbbing heat. His fingers smoothly glide across your folds, thanks to the leaking pleasure from your core. You arch your back when he pushes the barrier to the side, shoving his fingers inside you. Your hands fly up to his hair, one tugging at the strands while the other scratches the leather seats beneath you. Your actions are halted when he holds your wrist with his free hand, placing them above your forehead.

“Do you deserve to touch me after all you’ve done baby?”

You shake your head slowly. You desperately wanted to touch Jisung, run your hands across his form, tug at his hair, dig your nails into his back until small red crescents form. But now that you were hostage, your mind was going haywire. Your vision went blurry, eyes filled with tears and mind dizzy. Jisung smirks down at you, resuming his actions. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you, setting a slow pace.

His fingers speed up inside you, pumping against your walls harshly. Your vision goes blank as the roughness of his digits stroke against your walls, and the intensity is magnified infinitely once his thumb comes in contact with your clit, the skin rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and just when you feel your release exit your body, Jisung’s hand moves away from you. 

You sigh heavily, biting down on your lip to suppress a whine. The pit in your stomach slowly and painfully dies down at the feeling of your denied orgasm. Not even a few moments after the emptiness takes over you, Jisung’s cock is pressed against your hole. Your open palms turn into fists when you feel him enter you slowly, his hot breath fanning against your neck simultaneously. When he’s completely in, he pulls out before slamming in up to the hilt, filling you up immediately. 

He doesn’t waste time in setting a slow tempo, driving into you repeatedly with fast and deep thrusts. Your vision blacks out, white spots appearing every now-and-then. Jisung grabs a hold of your ankles and plops your leg above his shoulder, the new angle hitting sweet spots in you which drove you insane. He thrusts onto your g-spot repeatedly, and the sensation only amplifies when his fingers reach down to your clit once again, drawing mad circles on the skin.

The sounds of the car squeaking and creaking around you subsided beneath your moans and Jisung’s grunts. Jisung’s thrusts get shallower and sloppier as his high nudges at him. 

“I’m— I’m cumming…”

After a few more thrusts Jisung pulls out of you, painting your stomach and chest white with his juices. Your orgasm approaches no sooner, and you spasm before you release your high. Jisung retires above you, panting from the recent sessions. 

The two of you stay like that for a few moments, before you hear Jisung hum against your skin, and he raises his head while patting softly at your shoulder. 

“Y/n? Let’s go home, babe.” 

You croon, smiling softly and giggling while scrunching your nose at the sticky and sweaty seats of the car.

“We’ll get ourselves and the car cleaned up.”

—

a/n: My upload schedule is MESSED UP™ thanks to college (i’m sorry this is the last time i mention my college hahaha) Also, requests will be open soon! So look out for it hehe

#stray kids han jisung #skzsmutnet #skz han jisung #skz han #skz jisung #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #stray kids han jisung au #stray kids han smut #stray kids smut #stray kids au #stray kids #3RACHA smut #han smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han au #han Jisung au #jisung au #smut #ivy.moon

[worldwidemochiguy]

Tag, You’re It ~ Part I of the Play Date Trilogy

The Play Date Trilogy Masterlist

Warnings: Kidnapping, slight violence, slight gore (it’s barely graphic I’m just tagging to be safe)

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist for all of my fics

Requested by @just-another-fangurl21​

‘Tag, you’re it by Melanie M and y! Taehyung or y!Jungkook pleaseeee ❤️❤️❤️’

Thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry I took so long to do it pls forgive me 🥺🥺🥺🥺 

“Fuck.” you muttered, letting the hand holding your now-dead phone fall listlessly, brushing your side. Your boss had somehow, yet again, wrangled you into working much later than you intended. So late that the bus you had planned to take home had come and gone, and you couldn’t even call an uber because your phone had decided to be absolutely useless and run out of charge. Perfect.

You had just started to shiver when you saw the headlights of a car illuminate the road from behind you. For a second, you thought about walking back to the car and asking if they could give you a lift because you were pretty sure the temperature was in the negative numbers and you couldn’t feel your toes anymore. You quickly quashed the thought, You can’t just get in a strangers car, what if they kidnap you? You chided yourself. 

After ten seconds, the car still hadn’t overtaken you and you glanced over your shoulder in curiosity. The car — a black jeep with tinted windows, you registered distantly — was cruising along at a sedate pace. Almost as if it was stalking its prey. With a mounting sense of fear, you cast your eyes around your surroundings, hoping to see a person, or literally anything to give you some sense of security. It was difficult to see in the darkness, the only source of light being the car headlights, ironic given they were the thing you were trying to evade but as far as you could tell, you were completely alone. The only thing accompanying you was the noise of the engine, growling like a wild animal.

Fear quickened your steps into a slight jog. You noticed the car wasn’t speeding up with you and thanked every God you had ever heard of, appreciating the distance that grew between you and the jeep with every passing step. The driver probably realised I was scared and stopped, you mused, What a nice, considerate person. 

Then the car started again. 

It was driving fast, and you exhaled in relief thinking that the car would overtake you. It didn’t. In fact, it reached the exact point where you were and stopped. You carried on walking, faster this time, and watched as you left them behind. Again, they waited until you were fairly ahead of them before they sped up to get to you directly. They were playing with you, like a game of tag, and it was only a matter of time before you heard the words “Tag, you’re it”.

You heard the cars engine rev again, a telltale sign they were about to close the distance between you, and you acted. Launching into a sprint, hindered by your stupid heels that you hadn’t thought to take off, you frantically tried to find somewhere to hide. To the side of the road you saw a parking lot with its barrier down. If the driver wanted to get to you, they would have to get out of the car, meaning they would lose their unfair advantage. You had a chance to escape. The lights shining behind you grew brighter and brighter, and you knew by now the car must be almost on top of you.

You finally reached the barrier and ducked under it, running through the parking lot. Behind you, the driver — a man judging by the voice uttering those low curses — had gotten out of the car. He was chasing you. 

He was chasing you and he wouldn’t stop. 

This harrowing thought caused your focus to slip slightly, just for a second, and you fell. You had maybe twisted your ankle, and it sent shooting pains up your leg as you tried to get up, and failed, and fell back down. You heard a low laugh behind you, and reinvigorated your efforts into crawling away. It was useless, though. He caught you.

Your arm was extended, trying fruitlessly to drag the rest of your body across the unforgiving asphalt and away from the even more unforgiving man, who was approaching you with lazy steps. Without warning, though perhaps you should have anticipated it, he grabbed your hand and pushed you down, flattening your body against the ground. Before the scream building in your throat escaped, he took it right out of your mouth, replacing it with a hand covering both your airways. You tried to struggle, but the black spots in your vision multiplied as your strength deserted you, and you fell limp in his arms, his cruel, triumphant laughter lulling you to sleep.

When you woke up, you almost wanted to go back to sleep. To let a dream whisk you away from the nightmare that had become your reality. It seemed like you were in a basement of some sort, the room empty of any windows to let in natural light, and just generally empty. Of course, you screamed. You screamed until your throat was raw and bleeding, and after that you tugged on your restrained wrists and ankles as hard as you could, the sound of your pained whimpers the only thing in the room. Like you were talking to yourself. 

You couldn’t say how long it was before he came. Light spilled in from the top of the staircase at the leftmost corner of the room and you winced, letting out a small sound of pain as your eyes adjusted to the light after being in complete darkness. The noise would have been louder, but your vocal cords were probably too exhausted after all the screaming. The man, the same one who had driven after you like a cat playing with a mouse, appeared in front of you. You had no choice but to look at him, so you did.

He was handsome, and tall, and muscled, and the look in his eye was the most terrifying thing you had ever seen. On the surface of those wide doe-eyes there was joy, affection, and perhaps even worry over your raw wrists and ankles, but beneath that… nothing. He truly was a psychopath. 

“Oh no, baby, what have you done?” He questioned in a sweet voice, kneeling down to run his fingers over the bloodstained restraints he had tied. You whimpered slightly, and his eyes widened. You could swear he pressed his finger harder for a second before he withdrew, looking at you with a sympathetic expression. 

“I know it’s hard, little one, but don’t pull at your restraints, ok? They’re just there to keep you safe.” You could do nothing but emit a low groan, and he obviously took this as consent to check your other wounds. He cleaned them all — you hadn’t realised he had a first aid kit with him — including a cut on your forehead that you must have sustained when he shoved you to the floor. 

It was like he was two different people. That night, he had been terrifying, hunting you down like a monster. But when he took care of your wounds, he was sweet, and gentle. Talking to you in a hushed voice filled with love.

“I’m Jeongguk. Don’t worry, you don’t have to introduce yourself to me, I already know.” A short giggle. “I can’t believe I’m finally speaking to you like this, I’ve waited for so long, but I’m glad you didn’t make me wait much longer. Thank you for leaving late at night like that so that I could take you home. You’re such a good little girl.” 

Jeongguk never apologised for kidnapping you. When he apologised it was because he hadn’t factored in your shortcomings.

Oh, I shouldn’t have tied these so tight, I should’ve known you would be a silly girl and tug on them too hard. You are too rebellious for your own good, huh baby? You won’t make this mistake again though, right? 

He seemed to take your silence as an agreement, growing more and more excited each time he put words in your mouth and you didn’t spit them out. At the end of your little doctor’s visit, Jeongguk rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, sighing deeply. 

“I love it when I hear you breathing.” He said, exhaling softly just as you inhaled so you shared a breath. Obviously this was his intent as his eyes opened and he surveyed you almost reverentially. 

“You’ll never leave me, right?” You couldn’t speak, so you just gazed at him blankly, head lolling to the side. His expression sharpened, and he reached for your damaged wrist. 

He tightened his hand around the wound, fingers digging into the fresh cuts and getting stained with blood. 

“You’ll never leave me, right?” He repeated, but it wasn’t a question, it was a command. “You love me, and you’ll never leave me, right?”

“No,” you croaked out, your throat on fire. “I’ll never leave you J-Jeongguk.” He tilted his head, waiting. “I love you.” 

At that, his face lit up into a grin exposing bunny-teeth. An innocent face covering a sadistic monster. 

“Thank you so much baby! I promise I’ll never waste the gift of your love. Don’t worry, you won’t have to stay here long. Just until I know for sure I can trust you.” 

You didn’t hear any of his words, too lost in your own thoughts. He had chased you. He had caught you. The refrain repeated over and over in your head like a nursery rhyme — the prelude to this nightmare.

Tag, you’re it.

Tag, tag, you’re it. 

#yandere #yandere jungkook #yandere fic #yandere bangtan #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #BTS jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bangtan boys #yandere kpop #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reader insert

[inkribbon796]

Flight of the Bomble Bees Ch. 2: The White Wolves

Summary: Not all white dogs are good omens.

A/N: Warning for Tubbo getting triggered by fireworks. Thought I’d add a heads up. Guy’s an unhinged mad scientist, but he’s still a seventeen year old with a lot of unresolved emotional and physical trauma. 

Chapters: 1, 2

Roman was telling the story of Thomas and “Nico”, Virgil interjecting to try and add in some embarrassing detail, as they headed back to the base. Ranboo making himself look less human, his horns growing out and a long tail with a fluffy ends trailing behind him, before he joined up with the group. He looked nervously at Tubbo who smiled at him and began showing his new superhero suit.

During this exchange, Patton let out a gasp, “Puppy!”

Logan looked over to see a dog, a smaller spaniel or at the largest some husky, but it wasn’t. The beast approaching them was a fully grown wolf.

Tommy and Tubbo looked over and froze as the wolf kept walking over. Several people just parting for the massive canine.

“Uhhh,” Tommy warned cautiously.

“Lea?” Ranboo asked in confusion as he walked over to Patton and the wolf. “What are you doing here?”

“I think he likes me,” Patton smiled as he let the wolf sniff his hands and arms.

“She . . .” Ranboo faltered nervously. He’d meant to speak more but the words caught in his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Patton corrected himself before turning back to the wolf, his hands scratching and petting the wolf. “Who’s a pretty lady? You are! Yes, you are!”

“Is this your wolf?” Logan asked hesitantly as Tubbo picked himself into the sky to look around for someone.

“Yeah,” Ranboo asked before correcting, twisting his tail in his hands, “but no. She’s one of Techno’s wolves. He usually keeps them in southern Scotland on some property that he and Phil own.”

“Yeah, but what’s this one doin’[1] here?” Tommy demanded, the wolf turning from Patton to sniff at Logan for a little bit. Patton looked a bit put out when the wolf’s interest went somewhere other than him.

“She’s kinda[2] mine,” Ranboo explained.

“Yours?” Tommy scoffed, sounding hurt. As they spoke the wolf turned to Virgil who tried to keep his body as far away from sharp teeth and crushing jaws. So then she moved to Roman who gave the wolf a couple uncertain pats. “How the fuck is she yours? Those hounds are Techno’s.”

“Yeah,” Ranboo’s tail fluff suddenly the most interesting thing in the world to him. “You remember how I used to live with them? I used to help Techno take care of the wolves and he let me name one. He even gave it a purple collar to tell her apart.”

“What do you mean he gave you one?” Tommy spat in a jealous huff. “He barely let me touch ‘em[3]!”

Lea finally reached Thomas, who upon seeing Roman and Patton, and the other Sides being able to get close to it, reached out to give the wolf a pet. Before she snarled and sank her jaws into his arm, the only thing keeping it from being crushed was the lightly reinforced suit he was wearing.

Thomas screamed in pain.

Thankfully the wolf let go and began to back up and let out a long, piercing howl.

“Incoming!” Tubbo warned as he caught sight of who he was looking for.

“What do you see?” Logan put himself in between the wolf and Thomas, who was holding his arm. “Princey, get him up and out of the way.”

“Techno! Techno’s coming!” Tubbo warned, a terrified tremor to his voice.

People scrambled to get out of the way as Roman enchanted himself to fly and picked Thomas up to start flying him back to base.

Which took them out of the safety of the group.

There was a hiss in the air as something whistled through the air and hit Roman. The small rocket exploded like a bright firework.

Roman screamed in pain and crashed back to the ground with Thomas.

Tubbo screamed in panic, even though he was a safe distance from the explosion, trying to shield his eyes and face from the explosion. Ranboo caught him when he fell.

“Bee? Bee? It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Ranboo promised as he held Tubbo in his arms. Tubbo was shaking wildly in terror, curled up in his husband’s arms.

Virgil’s magic whipped into the air as the wall of wolf teeth hit them. His barrier holding protectively as Patton fretted over Roman who was quick to pick himself up.

“I’m fine,” Roman stood up and pulled out his sword, putting Thomas and the minors in the center of the group. Logan was already signally for backup. Trying to count the number of wolves. His brain got to thirty before it was hard to keep track of them and he wasn’t sure if there were more or he’d miscounted.”

Eventually they saw Techno himself, the tall and hulking figure with a boar mask over his face. Lea circled back around to him from her place in the pack and Techno gave her a quick scratch on the head.

“Finally,” Techno smiled, axe in hand. “After all this time.”

Logan braced with his stun batons, he knew Virgil’s shield would not protect them indefinitely. He watched Philza hanging back about fifty feet, bow and arrow in hand but not notched and raised at them.

“You’re part of Dream’s gang, aren’t you?” Logan probed, trying to get as much information from their attackers as possible.

“Ehh, Dream and I are just old friends,” Techno dismissed. “We’ve just been a couple rounds in a death pit.”

“I see,” Logan commented, watching Virgil’s magic begin to sputter, the force of maintaining a barrier getting to be too much.

“Techno,” Tommy greeted tensely.

“Tommy, back up, I’m not here to fight you,” Techno warned.

“You almost hit Tubbo,” Ranboo reminded.

“Yeah, didn’t see him,” Techno admitted. “Was more focused on trying to find the legate and his head popped up, so . . .”

Techno made a shooing motion with his hand towards the three kids. “. . . you three should get out of the way before I accidentally hit one of you.”

Logan took a glance at Ranboo who was still holding Tubbo. “When the barrier lowers, I want you to take him away from here.”

“I,” Tubbo seemed to regain his composure, his false eye glowing, a radioactive symbol visible from behind his fringe. “I’m up, let me at him.”

Jackie and Silver were speeding in, sending a message to Logan how Bing and Oliver were on standby.

“Absolutely not,” Logan told him. “This is foolhardy, we’ve already had a minor causality, and I will not allow another under my watch.”

“I got your back Bo,” Tommy promised.

That got Techno angry, “Tommy, stay out of the way, you’re in over your head again. And this time I’m not saving you. I don’t want to fight you guys, I want the legate.”

“Well, that’s gonna be a problem then, innit?” Tommy dared.

“Fine,” Techno spat, pulling out three vials of swirling magical cocotions. “You asked for it!”

Tubbo and Tommy were summoning weapons as the vials shattered on the ground and magic wafted up at Techno. Tubbo quickly pulled out a handful of potions and smashed them around their feet, magic filling the bubble. The Sides and the three minors felt charged with strength as Techno let out a shrill, high pitched whistle and the wolves all attacked at once.

Tubbo took to the sky again. Throwing down potions on top of Techno, spells trying to cancel each other out and Techno dodging. “See how you like some fuckin’[4] sparks, shitshow!”

Ranboo summoned a scythe as Phil notched an arrow and let it fly at Tubbo. The tall teen cutting his sword into the air and making the arrow shoot at the ground in front of them.

“Ehh!” Techno smiled. “Finally growing a spine kid?”

“Boo! Get out of here!” Tubbo ordered his husband.

“Not with out you!” Ranboo told him.

“Heh, gay,” Tubbo smiled.

“Come on, Bomble, work with me here,” Ranboo demanded in exasperation, trying to keep arrows off of Tubbo.

“Helping!” Tubbo dove down to slap a disk on Ranboo’s. Metal clipping and unfolding out with the aid of what Logan suspected was nanites. It made an almost all black suit with a visor that looked like bandages wrapped around his eyes.

Ranboo faltered and in that time an arrow nicked Tubbo’s ankle.

Jackie and Silver were trying to keep the tide of wolves at bay while Tommy tried to continuously rush for Techno, which was much harder because Roman and Logan were trying to keep him away and keep Techno off of Thomas.

Virgil’s spider legs sprouted as he tried to pull Thomas away, hissing and spitting at the warrior trying to hit them with an axe.

“Anxiety! Pass him!” Janus called over the chaos.

Some time in the chaos and din of battle, Janus had wormed his way in and held out a hand.

Hesitating for a bit, Virgil tried to figure out if this was an illusion or a trick before shoving Thomas towards Janus who was sprouting multiple arms and snakes poured out from him. A large one coiled around him, enough to grip but not to strangle, other snakes almost forming a protective cocoon around Thomas who was almost dizzy with everything going around him.

“Go! Go!” Janus ordered and began trying to roll the mass of snakes through the onslaught of wolves. Virgil screamed as a set of canine teeth chomped on one of his spider legs. Virgil ripped his leg away, the limb almost snapping off under the pressure but Janus and Virgil were starting to get away from the fight.

“Move!” Janus ordered Virgil as they tried to put distance between the fight and themselves.

“Where are you going?” Techno pulled out one of the green eye orbs and tossed it. The orb shattered and Techno appeared right behind the group, cutting through several of the snakes with his axe but Janus quickly began building them back up as Thomas was trying to backpedal from the guy trying to hit him with an axe.

Ranboo took the opportunity to grab both Tommy and Tubbo and opened up a small portal right on top of himself to get them back to the heroes’ base. Taking them from the battle and the wolves trying to snap at them. Much to Tubbo and Tommy’s immediate anger.

Janus summoned his staff and redirected the blow that would have hit Thomas right in the chest.

Thomas looked at Janus in surprise as the deceitful Side protectively coiled more snakes around him.

Techno immediately began swinging his axe to cut through the mass of snakes. The instant Thomas was in any danger of getting hit, Virgil used his spider web threads to tug Thomas out of the way long enough for Janus to build his serpentine shield back up.

“Come on! Fight me! This is what you’re good at!” Techno ordered as his axe came dangerously close to Thomas on each swing but Virgil and Janus kept him out of harm’s way each time.

“You want a fight, you’ll get it from us,” Janus hissed.

“He’s a lover, not a fighter!” Patton yelled out as he tried to get back into the fight before Phil shot him in the shoulder with an arrow.

In response, Thomas grabbed his arm right where Patton had been shot and let out a choked gasp.

“What do you mean he doesn’t fight‽” Techno demanded, sounding enraged and insulted in the same breath. “He’s a legate, that’s all they know.”

“I don’t,” Thomas whimpered, hiding behind Virgil and Janus. “I don’t know how.”

“All your arms can fight, how do you not know how to fight?” Techno snapped.

Thomas stayed defensively quiet, but Techno was the one who pulled away. He let out a frustrated scream. “What was the point?”

“Mate, yah[5] okay there?” Phil walked closer.

“I brought my dogs out for nothing, Phil,” Techno complained as Philza just smiled in amusement at him. “For nothing!”

“Least yeh[5] got some exercise, mate,” Phil chuckled. “We can head over to Arizona, there’s supposed to be a pit over there.”

“It’s not the same,” Techno complained. “This was going to be my fight.”

Techno huffed before looking over at Phil, “Fine.”

The combatant finally lowered his sword and stomped away, letting out a shrill whistle and all the wolves began to pull away from their fights to cloud around Techno and some of them began pushing around his hands.

“Yeh[5] freaks done?” Jackie demanded.

“Yeah, if Techno can’t get his fight, then he’s done,” Phil smiled. “He’s done, we just gotta[6] take the dogs back.”

“Those are wolves,” Logan reminded.

“Yeah, bred from hellhounds, mate,” Phil smiled. “Yeh[5] all lucked out that he couldn’t get his fight.”

Phil made his way carefully through the wolves to talk to a very upset Techno, while Thomas looked back at Janus and Virgil who were still braced for a fight, snakes still coiling around Thomas, spider silk everywhere.

“You,” Thomas looked up at them with shock, “you saved me.”

“Yeah well,” Virgil fumbled, kneeling down to Thomas’s level. “Supposed to be a hero, it’s what I do.”

Thomas leaned in and rested his head against Virgil’s arm. Virgil flinched and Thomas had one eye light up purple, and the other with a bright yellow. He leaned into Virgil who let out a gasp as one of his eyes lit up. Janus looked down at them.

“I think perhaps you two should go back to the base, while he’s still distracted,” Janus told Virgil.

The scene was briefly interrupted by Thomas letting out a gasp in pain, his eyes returning to their normal color and the group looked over to Patton, who was already receiving first aid for the arrow sticking out of his arm. The tip was still coursing with magic to ensure it would puncture through armour and shields alike.

“How bad is it?” Logan asked.

“I’m fine,” Patton gritted his teeth.

Thomas, almost robotically, got up and walked over to Patton. Logan was quick to come in-between Thomas and Patton, extending out one of his battens to keep Thomas away from Patton.

“He needs all the energy he can get right now,” Logan warned.

“You guys all give me energy, I should be able to give some to him, right?” Thomas suggested.

Patton shakily lowered Logan’s hand.

“Be careful,” Logan’s tone carried an unspoken threat in it.

Thomas nodded and set his hand on Patton’s injured arm, closing his eyes in concentration.

At first Patton felt the white hot pain grow hotter and chil the areas around him, before the pain started to melt away. Patton hummed in contentment, leaning into Thomas. The wound starting to knit itself back up as a huge bruise was secretly growing underneath the sleeve of Thomas’s arm.

Thomas pulled away, and Patton almost fell against him, blinking in blurry disorientation.

“Mmm, tired,” Patton complained.

“We’ll get you back to the base,” Logan picked Patton, cradling him gently against his chest. “Magic can only do so much.”

“I want marshmallows fer[7] pillows,” Patton mumbled, bringing a small smile to Logan’s face that was hidden by his visor. “I like marshmallows.”

“Go, I’ll make sure you aren’t followed,” Janus told Virgil.

“I get it, I get it,” Virgil grumbled as Logan and Roman led Thomas back to the base and Virgil brought up the rear.

Janus and Techno’s eyes met as the Core Sides retreated with Thomas. Janus followed the group from a distance. Jackie took Patton from Logan to speed the injured Side back to the base. It left Logan to break from the group and make his way back to where Silver was watching Philza and Techno.

“Morality alright?” Silver asked.

“He will be,” Logan said, “I want to keep my eye on things.”

“We’ll be gone soon enough,” Phil told him. “Don’t much like being next ta[8] Ent’s territory. Reeks ‘a[9] sad empath o’er[10] there.”

“You are Tommy’s guardian,” Logan reminded, getting a message that Jackie had helped speed both Patton and then Thomas to safety.

“He causin’[11] trouble?” Phil sighed.

“No, but he is seventeen,” Silver told him.

“He’s a spawnling, age is fuckin’[4] relative, mate,” Phil told them in a rather dismissive tone. “Fundy’s been fourteen fer[7] four years now. Bet Tommy’ll be seventeen fer[7] a while longer.”

“That still makes him a minor,” Logan spoke up.

“Look, mate, if I gotta[6] sign somethin’[12], I will,” Phil sighed as he leaned against the wall. “But I’m tellin’ yeh that it means shit an’ all. Tommy could go out an’ do whate’er he wanted an’ I wouldn’t stop him.”[13]

“For as much as you claim Tommy is an adult, he lacks the experience or the fully developed prefrontal cortex crucial for decision making,” Logan refuted. “We need your signature, how long will you be in town?”

“Long enough,” Phil evaded. “I know where yer[14] base is, I’ll head over there, then I’ll meet back up with you, Techno.”

Techno’s eyes glanced between the heroes, “If you’re sure.”

“Oh yeah, we’ll take a shortcut ta[8] the cabins,” Phil told Techno.

Techno let out a whistle and all the wolves gathered around him. “Yeah, yeah, got you.”

Techno began to walk away with his hounds.

Silver waited until Techno was far enough to wait before he asked, “How much do you spend on feeding all those animals?”

“Oh, we’ve got e’en more at the cabins, an’ we keep animals ta help feed ‘em, but it’s a lot, a lot a lot,”[15] Philza answered.

Philza did wind up heading to the base with the heroes to read through and sign some paperwork. He stayed outside as Tommy uneasily watched from the cameras, occasionally yelling obscenities at his father from a speaker and Philza was just shouting them back at him as Tubbo was laughing and eventually joined in.

The other heroes would have intervened to take the mic away from Tommy but it seemed to put Philza in a better mood and he left after the papers were done and he was given a copy.

Calmer, the winged demon left, Techno had been waiting for him and the two of them disappeared into the night. Leaving the heroes to lick their wounds and brace for the next attack.

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

Accessibility Translations:

1. doing

2. kind of

3. them

4. fucking

5. you

6. have to

7. for

8. to

9. of

10. over

11. causing

12. something

13. But I’m telling you that it means shit and all. Tommy could go out and do whatever he wanted and I wouldn’t stop him.

14. your

15. Oh, we’ve got even more at the cabins, and we keep animals to help feed them, but it’s a lot, a lot a lot

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #tw: triggered character #footnotes #Logan Sanders #tubbo underscore #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #C!Thomas #tommyinnit #Ranboo #Janus Sanders #Technoblade #Philza #the hound army #Tubbo gets triggered by fireworks #unhinged Technoblade #slightly unhinged Tubbo #LAMP #platonically married Tubbo and Ranboo #putting a couple cinnamon rolls in danger for plot reasons #Philza isn't the best parent #but he's also not the worst #Philza isn't the worst parent #but the results speak for themselves

[sword-envy]

well how the turntables...

Fandom: A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns

Content warning: swearing and light gore

Word Count: 2830

Pairing: X/A lite. lite

Description: Azad doesn’t care for how or why he finds himself facing down the Pale Sword once again; what he does know is that he’s getting a little Spirits-damned tired of cleaning up the man’s messes.

or, that time A tried to read X's mind, failed, and then got their fucking nose broken

With Xelef pinned under his forearm and his famous sword lost somewhere in the grass behind them, Azad loses his last shred of patience and smacks his palm against Xelef's head.

Azad can see Xelef's eyes widen in his peripheral as his magic surges forward, rushing past a few feeble mental blocks, buffeting them like rocks in a river. Azad flips throught the immediate memories--his own face set in a stern expression as Xelef was thrown against the tree, the feeling of a sword being knocked from his hands, their duel picking up as Azad pressed forward, demanding to know where Xelef had hidden that stupid--

He doesn't put him to sleep first, doesn't want to waste the time doing it, and as retribution for all the headaches this damned mercenary caused him that day alone, he intends on making this sting. The magic rises to him, easily, flowing from his palm and it presses into Xelef's mind, searching for some shred of clarity regarding the shitstorm that had been raging for the past week.

And then, fire. His head fills with fire. 

Xelef's defense eases just enough for Azad to feel the weight of someone’s hands curled and pushing against his forearm, but even in his dizzy state, he holds his ground and doesn’t let Xelef up. A particularly painful jolt leaves him winded, pitching forward. He catches that familiar, stupid smirk, and Xelef opens his mouth to speak.

It bursts to life behind his eyes, accompanied by searing pain. His search is halted immediately by that wall of flames, acting almost like a physical barrier that proceeds to march forward and knock him flat on his ass. The burning fills and dulls his senses and he's vaguely aware of the feeling of someone poking around; If he wasn't too busy trying not to drown, his skin would be crawling. 

"Sorry, beloved." And then he slams his forehead down on Azad's nose.

The bones break with a sickening crack that reverberates through his skull and pierces the white-hot flames still clouding his vision. Azad's distantly aware that Xelef pushes him away the same moment their heads collide, and it isn't until he feels the ground against his back that the mental invasion recedes and he can feel his broken nose intimately.

"Fuck!" he shouts, pain setting in and blood flying into the hand he presses to his face. Xelef is still standing, presumably looking at him, and Azad fumbles with one hand for something to throw. His fingers find a rock and he throws it with all the force he can muster (which is a lot, judging by the shattering sound that follows after Xelef dives out of the way). "Fuck!"

He sees red and still glares through it at Xelef, who at least has the decency to look sheepish and extend a hand to help him up.

Azad slaps away the offered hand. "What, by the void, was that?"

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never run into a mental defense before.” Azad ignores him and raises unsteadily to his feet, leaving Xelef to sigh dramatically.  "I mean, I'm not going to tell you. But I can definitely recommend that you don't try that mind-reading trick on me again.”  Azad considers rolling his eyes, but another wave of pain hits him and he elects to instead squeeze his eyes shut and ignore him.

He's tired. His head hurts. His nose is fucking broken. Azad can predict the lecture about duty and finishing tasks, almost down to the unique color Dara’s face is going to turn, but this is just some stupid retrieval mission that he has no personal stake in. He is going to find a healer and go to sleep, nobility be damned.

Xelef raises his hand hesitantly, almost like he's going to try and touch him, but seems to think better of it. "You know, there's a few more of us nearby," he says lightly, turning away to search the grass. "I'm sure we have someone who can help you with that."

Azad spits a clot of blood on the ground. "What was the fucking point of breaking my nose if you were going to offer to fix it?"

"Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?" The teasing is nothing if not expected, but Xelef still crumbles a little under the glare Azad throws his way. He averts his eyes. "I, uh. I didn't actually mean to break your nose. I just wanted to stun you. I'm--really sorry."

This time, Azad really does roll his eyes.The idea of relying on Xelef after that little scene is far from appealing, but their duel had carried them a significant distance from any Imperial forces. One of the Blades would be his best, fastest bet for a healer right now. "Fine," he grumbles. "But you owe me."

Xelef laughs, perhaps a little nervously, and Azad watches distantly as he scoops Azad's own sword from the ground. Azad opens his free hand, waiting to get it back, but Xelef wordlessly secures it in his own belt and starts walking, inclining his head for Azad to follow. He feels himself hesitate, focused on his sword on Xelef’s belt.

Was he trying to apologize? Or to disarm him?

"Give that back," he grumbles, speeding up to fall in step with Xelef. "I can carry it."

Xelef's pouts. "I was trying to do you a favor, you old grouch. But fine, hold a grudge."

Azad scoffs at the accusation, ducking under the tree branch Xelef holds out of the way. "You broke--"

"Hey, that's ancient history!"

"That was five minutes--"

Xelef ignores him entirely, grinning and waving over someone Azad doesn't recognize. Azad’s lips twitch at the diversion, but decides to pick a fight later. There’ll be plenty of time later to discuss what “ancient history” actually constitutes regarding a broken nose.

The Blade that approaches is fairly small, wearing light armour even for the mercenary group, and they move quickly past the few others gathered in the small clearing. Xelef greets them with an easy grin, resting his hands on two swords like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "Fîlya! Care to lend a hand? Azad here went and got his nose broken." Azad rolls his eyes almost far enough to see inside his head.

The Blade, Fîlya, eyes him with some suspicion, taking in the state and Imperial look of his armour, but it doesn't look like they're about to disobey the Pale Sword. They incline their head to Azad, uncertainly but not without respect, and clear their throat. "Move your hands, please," they say politely as they peel off their gloves.

Azad finds himself glancing over at Xelef, who just raises his eyebrows at him. Insufferably, he winks. Azad resists the urge to roll his eyes again and removes his hands, leaning forward enough for them to take a look. They pull a wad of cloth and a waterproof pouch from a bag at their waist, dousing it with the liquid inside.

He closes his eyes and schools his face into neutrality. He can feel his eyes and mouth twitch as Fîlya carefully prods the sides of his nose as they clean off the blood, likely making a mental image of the damage before trying to mend it. Azad is no healer, but he at least knows the basics of how it works. It’s not as simple as pouring magic into a wound and waiting for it to finish; such reckless use would quickly lead to the presence of hard, painful growths that would need to be cut out, lest they spread to the rest of the body. Healing was a careful process affected by a variety of factors, including a healer’s skill level, their specialization, and whether it was suited to the wound they were seeing.

A sharp pain snaps Azad from recalling more of Rêzan’s long-winded explanation on how healing magic works, and he grimaces. 

“Sorry,” Fîlya says quickly, drawing their hands back. “It looks like I’ll need to put the bone back in place before I start healing. Do you want anything for the pain? Something to bite on? Maybe somewhere to sit?” Azad blinks his eyes at the choices, and Fîlya looks on with their eyebrows drawn, chewing on the inside of their lip.

Mostly, Azad wants this to be over with. “No, but thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Xelef exchanges an amused look with the Blade, who seems more confused than anything, but they shrug and turn back to Azad. They raise their bare hands and he closes his eyes again, feels them place their hands back on his face, their thumbs on either side of his nose. “Uh, Chief, can you--?"

"Yeah, of course." Warm hands appear too quickly on the sides of his head for Azad to move away from, and the heat emanating from Xelef briefly distracts him. Xelef holds him firmly, and Azad opens his mouth to protest having to be held down like some sort of child. It’s annoying. It’s embarrassing. His face heats up from the irritation at the gesture, not from a certain someone’s proximity or breath brushing against the back of his neck.

While he’s distracted, Fîlya pops his nose back into alignment on the distant count of two.

Pain explodes behind his eyes once again and he clenches his teeth, trying not to break out into obscenities. “Sorry!” they say quickly, carefully running over the bridge of his nose again with their fingers. The familiar hot-cold tinge of magic slowly seeps into his skin, and the healer starts talking again, likely trying to cover the sound of bones mending themselves together. “The closer I get it back to the original shape before healing, the better it turns out in the end. I'm hardly a master, but this should heal up pretty well," they explain. 

To his left, Xelef scoffs. He still hasn’t taken his hands off Azad’s head, and the heat from them is starting to sink into his skull. (Azad is absently aware of Xelef’s thumbs moving almost imperceptibly against his hair, like a soothing gesture).  "Fîlya's just being modest. She's one of our best healers, no need to worry. You'll look exactly the same as before." Azad doesn’t respond. If he really needs to, he can have Rêzan or someone else fine-tune it; the sooner he can get out of here, the better.

By the time he opens his eyes and the pain dulls into mild soreness, he sees two familiar figures stalking towards them. Fîlya makes a strange noise, immediately turning tail and leaving, Xelef drops his hands, and Azad braces himself for a conversation that will undoubtedly keep him from his bed for a little longer. "Tûjo. Heval."

Tûjo silently inclines his head, his usual greeting, but Heval seems a little less inclined towards business as usual.

"What," they ask tersely, "Are you doing here?" They didn't bring their axe with them, he notices, but Heval's arms are crossed and their tone doesn't exactly seem pleased from under their iron mask. Azad sighs, and Xelef seems to take that as an invitation to talk.

"Why, Azad simply couldn't resist my offer for dinner and decided to join us! He's completely enamored to the idea of becoming a--"

Azad can feel his eye roll ripple through his posture and looks dead Heval in the eyes. "Xelef broke my nose." Heval sucks in a sharp breath and raises their hand as though to pinch the bridge of their own nose; Tûjo blinks but otherwise doesn't move.

"You broke his nose?" he says, and Azad is able to pick up a tinge of something he can't quite identify in Tûjo's tone. Xelef laughs a little too loudly and rubs at the back of his neck, something Azad has noticed he does when he’s embarrassed.

"Accidentally," he insists. "And Fîlya fixed it up for him! It's like it never even happened! I'm sure he won't hold it against me, right?"

Azad hums at that and carefully touches his nose. It feels tender, but otherwise correct. "Time will tell."

Tûjo coughs into his fist, eyes crinkled slightly, and Heval huffs in annoyance.

"Even if he did break your nose," they say, eyeing Xelef with disappointment, "What, exactly, are you doing here? We're hardly working towards the same goal right now." Azad shrugs.

"It's a professional difference. I honestly couldn't care less. Besides, I don't even have my sword." He motions towards the blade, still dangling from Xelef's hip opposite his pale scimitar. "He wouldn't let me carry it."

This time, both of Xelef's right-hand mercenaries turn to look at him. He crosses his arms and grins at them both, but something about the smile doesn't fully sit right. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

"What? A man can't carry a sword for his injured friend?"

No one pushes the claim, but Xelef still unclips the sword and passes it back to its rightful owner. Azad slides it back into the scabbard, bemused at the fact that Xelef was really so reckless as to carry a naked blade swinging from his hip.

The three people sensible enough to not do that exchange uneasy glances, until finally Xelef clears his throat.

“Well, Azad, I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your own camp,” he says amicably, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. Azad doesn’t expend the energy to shrug it off. “Why don’t I walk you back closer to your camp? It’s dangerous to go alone, after all.”

“Wouldn’t that leave you walking alone?” Azad asks. Heval tilts their head, and nods once in agreement.

“He’s right, chief. It would be needlessly dangerous to travel alone. We don’t know who’s still out in the forest at this point, and not all of the soldiers are going to be so understanding.”

Xelef waves off the suggestion. “Oh, come on! I’ll sense anyone coming for a mile away. You won’t even finish dinner before I get back.” Xelef’s other hand reaches out to clasp Heval’s shoulder comfortingly, and they relax and sigh heavily.

“Just be careful, please.” They’re still looking at Azad with suspicion, and Azad raises an eyebrow at them. Heval clears their throat, and inclines their head to him, Tûjo following suit. “Until next time, Azad.”

“Until next time.”

And so, Xelef’s hand still on his shoulder, they steer away from the lowlit camp and back into the darkening forest. It’s still light enough to see, and Azad reluctantly allows Xelef to take the lead as they walk; even if the two of them both gravitated towards inner magic, Xelef’s sensory abilities were--admittedly--exceptional.

They walk in silence for a while, picking through the grass and the underbrush, before Xelef speaks up. “How’s the nose?”

“It’s fine,” Azad says, after consideration. He ducks under the branch Xelef holds out of the way, realizing that's at least the second time he's done that. “You’re being...awfully attentive,” he adds carefully. Xelef shrugs with an easy grin.

“Why? Are you enjoying the attention?” he teases.

“I’m suspicious of it.”

Xelef’s eyes drop as he kicks a rock out of the way, lips turned down in a frown. Azad feels the urge to bump their shoulders, which is an unexpected and mostly unwelcome idea. Instead, he wets his lips against the urge to assuage the guilt that was showing under Xelef’s sulky demeanor. “It’s fine. Really. Before you go all “ooh Azad, beloved, don’t break my heart, please forgive me”,” he teases in his best Pale Sword imitation. Xelef’s head snaps up and his green eyes stare at him in open disbelief.

The Pale Sword cracks a smile. “I do not sound like that!” he insists, but the smile colors his voice and he forges forward. They’re getting close, Azad realizes. “Spirits, you’re insufferable sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t know about ‘sometimes’,” Azad says airily. “I try to be insufferable most of the time, actually.”

Xelef shakes his head, black locks swinging. “It works,” he remarks dryly, and slows to a stop. He looks around quickly before turning to face Azad, hands on his hips. The last reaches of sunlight are nearly gone, past the golden fire-like burn of sunset. The colors around them are muted, matching the expression on Xelef’s face.

“Until we meet again, Mirza,” he says dramatically, sweeping into the most sarcastic approximation of a bow Azad has ever seen in his life. “Perhaps next time you’ll win.”

Azad scoffs and rolls his eyes one more time. “Or I’ll return the favor.” He walks past Xelef, towards the distant glow of the Imperial camp through the trees. He thinks about his bed, the scolding he’ll face after he packs up and heads back to the city, the color the General’s face will turn when he finds out what he did.

It’s strange. Even without looking, he gets the feeling that Xelef is smiling at him.

#ATOC #im finally done!! been looking at these two gay bitches for a WEEK #a tale of crowns #azad/ashti #xelef/xelara #blood #swearing #umm.....i did so much random research for this lol #including when cancer was named but idk it felt to weird to put it in there (it was recognized in ancient persia tho!) #also.....how to write a bloody nose. and videos on how to set a bloody nose at home #and GENEROUS interpretation of how healing magic works shut up sword #also Filya is an OC but i love her. shes my tired daughter now. she misses her wife! #also yes this is....x/a propaganda #ANYWAYS stan ATOC and play the game!! found @ ataleofcrowns.tumblr.com!! see the sword rivals in action!!!! #EDIT: tungle removed my italics. i hate it here #i also added a link to the game blog and fixed some grammar in the description oops

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped”

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5

“Do you think she’s faking it?” Santos whispers and his boss Jericho replies under his breath.

“Nope, not faking it. Y/N’s been like that since she recovered from the accident 5 months ago.”

The mobster and the newbie bodyguard watch you in silence while you cuddle with your yellow teddy bear: from time to time you kiss its forehead and then squeeze him tightly in your arms again.

“I heard rumors,” Santos addresses the gossip. “Is it true she’s like that because of Mister Joker?”

“Kind of,” Jericho mumbles. “Someone tried to kill him in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way; she got hit instead. Full impact, you know? Broken bones and fractured skull plus an inoperable hematoma that presses on her frontal lobe. She was out of business for 6 months and when she finally recovered… Well, you can see the result; major cognitive impairment. Not herself anymore…”

“You sure are informed boss,” Santos chuckles. “Weird a man like Mister Joker chose to allow this situation for so many months: 6 months for her to recover then 5 extra ones of this behavior… He’s not tolerant person.”

Jericho lifts his shoulders up, indifferent to the henchman’s insinuations.

“How do you think sex is?” Santos winks and a crabby voice freezes the words on his lips.

“Challenging,” J growls, displeased at the speculation on his private life.

The two mobsters turn in their chair and he passes by in a hurry, taking a sit by you on the small couch situated in the middle of the warehouse.

“I’m done inspecting the cargo, looks good. My crew is putting the money together for the payment; should be done shortly.”

Alarm chimes on his cellphone and he detaches a tiny pouch out of his suit’s pocket, getting your attention too.

“Hey Pumpkin, you have to take your meds.”

“Hm?...” the confused Y/N stares at him as she bounces the teddy bear on her knees.

“Here, take this,” J offers 3 capsules with a bottle of water and you have difficulty understanding the request. Yet he’s not annoyed and helps you regardless of having an audience: The Joker plainly doesn’t give a damn.

“Perhaps if you give her a lollipop she’ll be receptive; might improve sex also,” Santos snorts, ignoring Jericho’s instant warning:

“Watch your mouth!”

The offender is not worried though: he believes that being his boss’s protégé grants him immunity regarding his own carelessness.

“It might,” The King’s sinister grin creeps up on the red lips. “Thanks for the advice, I’ll try it.”

“She loves that teddy bear, huh?” Santos implies and surprisingly enough J explains why:

“I got it for her on our first date. We were walking downtown late at night, Y/N saw it displayed in a window at a toy store and loved it. So I shattered the glass, took it and both ran away since I triggered the alarm. I had this feeling that pretending to be sweet would get me laid.”

“Did it work?” the goon pressures for a confession, laughing at The Joker’s honest answer:

“No.”

“Sir!!” Panda yells from across the huge room. “Can we get you for a sec?”

“Excuse me,” he sneers and leaves the group while Jericho preaches to the bodyguard:

“Are you completely stupid?! Don’t say stuff like this in front of him!!”

“You’re one of his main business partners and he won’t risk initiating trouble. My opinion is that Y/N and Mister Joker are playing games, totally pretending about her condition. Let me try a puny experiment and find out if I’m correct.”

“What are you doing?!” the puzzled Jericho inquires as Santos gets up from his chair and sneaks by the sofa.

“I never had the pleasure of meeting Y/N, but if the information circulating around is accurate about her she will shred me to pieces if I do this.”  

He inspects the surroundings for a moment: not a soul nearby and the unexpected slap landing on your cheek makes you jump.

“Anybody home?” Santos bends over to analyze your reaction.

“Cut it out!” Jericho raises his voice, uneasy about his bodyguard’s deed.

“Mister Joker!!” Frost shouts from beyond a few creates he’s sorting out while keeping an eye on you.

Only idiots would have the impression J doesn’t have a system in place appointed to ensure your safety; obviously Santos is one of them.

“Boss!” Jonny reports to The Joker emerging from the back room. “Santos slapped Y/N!”

“I didn’t!” the latest defends his conduct, worried to notice your furious boyfriend stomping towards him.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Jericho attempts to fix this major mess-up yet The Clown Prince of Crime removes his gun from the holster, shooting Santos in the head: he knows Frost wouldn’t lie, thus he doesn’t need a justification for murder.

“Jesus, Mister Joker! You didn’t have to do that!” Jericho reprimands although he should zip it.

“You let him disrespect me on my territory?!” The Joker yanks at your hand. “Let’s go, Pumpkin!”

“I had no clue he’ll do it, ok?”

“If you can’t control your men, then give up leadership!” J drags you after him as you struggle to catch up. “The deal is off!” he screams and Jericho is unhappy about the outcome.

“What do you mean the deal is off??! We’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“Take your merchandize, disappear and I’ll enjoy my money, is that clear enough for you?!” the crazy green haired individual slams the gate, guiding you to the car in the parking lot. “Why are you such a pushover?” he angrily scolds. “I’m so tired of this crap!” J shoves Y/N in the passenger’s sit, aggravated to the point of blaming her for ruining his profitable transaction.

************* “That was such a good deal and I blew it! It’s all your fault!” he accelerates while you seek to make sense of everything thrown your way: when memories, concepts and sounds are melted in a brain lacking the affluence of logic, forming simple sentences physically hurts.

“You made me lose my temper!” The Joker lashes out since he’s aware his decision to cancel the arrangement with Jericho wasn’t the best. “You can’t defend yourself and you barely articulate elementary words! I miss having conversations with you, Y/N! Can your mind comprehend this?! You used to be funny, sassy and witty! You’re accountable for what happened, you dumb woman! I wouldn’t have done the same for you, I hope you know that!!!!”

You close your eyes, concentrating very hard on his remarks: something about wit, sass and… and…

It’s too much so you cover your ears, which prompts him to completely have a meltdown.

“Get out of the car!” he hits the breaks, leaning over to open the door on your side. “Get out I said!” he screams and forces you out against your will: you start crying, incapable of discerning what he wants and it makes you increasingly anxious. “Go be useless on your own!” he closes the door and takes off, abandoning Y/N without money or any other means in the industrial area outside Gotham City.

J continues to drive for another 15 minutes before halting at Southampton railway crossroads: the barriers are blocking the path and the red light keeps blinking, a sign the train is approaching. Not a lot to do besides waiting so he deeply exhales, still fuming at today’s events.

The Joker huffs at the sight of your teddy bear resting in between the seats; you probably dropped it when he nicely asked you to flee the vehicle.

Why are you attached to this boring stuffed animal to begin with? I mean, each time it requires washing you won’t budge from the laundry room until it’s returned to you. After the accident you carry it everywhere so maybe you wonder where it’s at…

J taps the steering wheel, pissed this idea randomly popped to bother him.

Nothing to be concerned about, he ditched you in the industrial area… that’s been closed for the last four years… the factories are empty, no people there… except creeps… searching for easy prey… like you…

“Fuck!” he abruptly backs out and the skid marks on the gravel certainly indicate he’s in no rush at all.

In less than 15 minutes he sees you limping on the right side of the road and slowly pulls over, waiting for you to get to the car. However, there’s a small fact The Joker didn’t anticipate: Y/N disregards the car plus its driver and keeps walking.

“Great…” he sighs. Stepping on his pride isn’t common practice for him, yet he grabs the yellow toy, sprints out of the SUV and follows the upset Queen. “Hey Pumpkin! Hey!!”  

You immediately turn around and stutter, frustrated:

“Y-you left me!!”

J is stunned to hear what he considers a whole tirade coming out of you; he’s positive it took a lot of effort.

“Umm…you forgot your teddy,” he extends his arms and you snatch it, hugging the plush bear to your chest. “I don’t understand what’s so important about a cheap…”

“Hm?” you frown, interrupting.

“The toy I got for you,” J repeats. “Why do you like it?” he simplifies the phrase so you can better process its meaning.

“Reminds…”, you strain really hard to organize your thoughts, “Reminds me… when you liked me… when I was… when I was  smart…” and you wipe your tears, upset. “Now… now I’m stupid…”

The Joker doesn’t know what to say and him not having a reply it’s a rare occurrence.

“You’re not stupid,” he mutters and because you won’t quit sobbing the question arises: “Hey Y/N, who’s my girl?”

What is he talking about…? A girl?...What girl?...

You spin to check your surrounding and J lectures, exasperated.

“For God’s sake, Princess. I’m talking about you: you’re my girl!”

“Hm?”

“Let’s put the neurons in your beautiful brain to rest, shall we? I think they’re oversaturated,” The Clown Prince of Crime decides, pleased to see he distracted you and you’re not crying anymore. “Are you hungry?”

You appear lost and he hints:

“You want food? We can get pizza, wings, possibly ice-cream from our favorite place. OK?”

“Pizza?” your face lights up and so does his without him realizing.

“A-ha. You love your peperoni, true?”

Oh boy, thank heavens the trick worked and you’re in the car again without any additional energy from his part; you didn’t caught on to it and it’s perfect. I guess your situation has a few perks.

“Hey Y/N, you know what else I miss?” The Joker cruises up the street, sulking. “Our fights! I swear I do! I lived for that shit! When you told me you hated me and I wanted to end you,” he snickers at the recollection. “If you hated me so much why did you save me?”

“No hate…” you smile and he’s truly amazed you kept up with his rambling. “Love…” you playfully touch his shoulder with the teddy bear’s paw.

The King of Gotham is speechless again; he avoids glaring in your direction and he’s relieved you don’t have enough transparency to notice how flustered he is.

“Pumpkin…” J grumbles in a low tone. “Do you believe that after that blood clot in your brain is reabsorbed, you’ll be more like your old self? The doctors said it won’t make a difference, but what the hell do they know?! Please say yes, even if it’s a lie. Hey Pumpkin,” he reiterates since you emotionlessly gaze at the landscape outside. “Say yes.”

“Hm?”

“SAY: YES,” The Joker persists.

“Yes?”

“Good girl,” he smirks and hastens towards the city. “You want ice-cream first?” the inquiry continues, yet J is used to monologues regardless. “Are you gonna let me have a bite? Can you predict what else I would like a bite of?” he leans over and whispers in your ear.

“Hm?...” the disoriented Y/N crinkles her nose.

“Dammit!” The Clown Prince of Crime exclaims. “You’re supposed to mention it’s indecent and then agree to it, Y/N!”

What does he want now?... something about  a bite?

You reach over and take his hand, sinking your teeth in the laughing mouth tattoo.

J snorts and then starts cracking up with all his heart, the awkward noises making you giggle.

”What am I going to do with you, Princess?” he shakes his head, amused nevertheless at your interpretation.

The Queen doesn’t answer, very captivated by The Joker’s silver grin; one could estimate it makes her happy although she can’t pinpoint the reason why. Y/N snuggles with the teddy bear that the madman stole for her on their first date hoping he’ll get laid, already delighted about their upcoming lunch.

The woman may not be the same person she was before the accident, but at least one detail is unchanged: she’s still The Joker’s Pumpkin.    

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagine #joker jared leto #joker suicide squad #mister j #Mistah J #dc #dcu