#hey I’ve run out of prompts so if anyone has any you’d like to submit that would be a help :)
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#533
The world ended: the forests burned, the economies collapsed, war and crime devoured cities and towns alike. Finally, one last disaster blew through and wiped out the human race. You however, managed to survive this through no apparent reason, and now find yourself alone on a desolate planet searching for anyone else who happened to have survived along with you
#writing#prompts#writing prompts#story prompts#story ideas#daily dose of writing#writing ideas#hey I’ve run out of prompts so if anyone has any you’d like to submit that would be a help :)
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For the smut prompts, #21 (“First one to make a noise loses.”) just screams one Santiago "Pope" Garcia. 💜 hope you're having a wonderful night, lovely!!
A/N: I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know you both but I combined your requests and wrote a threesome with Benny and Santiago on the helicopter with the reader. They are all so wound up and need to calm down. I hope that’s okay... Thanks for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking.
Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F! Reader x Benny Miller
Warnings: 18 + ONLY NSFW (Language, dirty talk, fingering, handjobs, cum)
My Masterlist
Switch to Channel 2
The thermometer lingered over Will’s forehead, and you let out a relieved sigh. Still, no fever, thank god. You’d done the best you could for the gunshot wound, but until it was adequately stitched and sterilized, the risk of infection was still high. You sit in the seat next to Benny and strap yourself back in, dropping your head onto his shoulder. He moved the dial on your headset to channel two and his voice came crackling through.
“How’s our boy doing?” he couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice if he tried. Benny loved his older brother more than anything.
“No fever, thank god. But I’m going to keep a close eye on him till I can get him some proper medical care. I just feel so helpless.”
“Hey,” his voice is soft, and his arm comes to wrap around you and pull you to his chest. “You are not helpless, Will would’ve been in a hell of a lot worse shape without you here. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You let the stress of the day finally seep into your bones, and the tears silently stream down your cheeks. Benny holds you tight, and you feel yourself melt into his embrace.
Santiago comes out a few minutes later from the cockpit of the helo and looks at you. You try to wipe your eyes, but he just shakes his head. Today has been rough on all of you; this was becoming way more than any of you had bargained for. Santiago speaks into the headset, and Benny quickly shoots up two fingers, and Santi nods, changing to your private channel. All of you wanting Will to get as much rest as possible.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?” You shrug and hold onto Benny’s arm and intertwine your fingers.
“I’ve had better days,” you sigh, and they let out a chuckle causing you to smile. “Come sit down,” you pat the spot next to you. “You look almost dead on your feet.” He tosses his hat into the seat across from you and sits down, running a hand over his face. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with him, and giving him a tight squeeze. “Are you okay?”
He lets out a dark chuckle, “No. I’m not. This nightmare is all my fault. Will is shot because of me; you’re all out here risking your life because of me. So, no, sweetheart, I’m not okay.”
Benny leans around you, “Come on, man, yeah, you told us about it, but we all made our own choice to be here and help you. This isn’t anyone’s fault. The moment we start blaming ourselves, that’s a path we can’t come back from.” You nod, lifting your head off Benny’s shoulder and looking over at Santi.
“He’s right; we can’t blame ourselves. None of this is your fault.” He nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His thoughts burrowing down deeper and deeper. “You need a distraction,” the words come out in a whisper. Santiago’s head snaps up and looks at you, Benny’s eyes burn into you, and you shrink back against the seat.
“Sweetheart, what did you have in mind?” You look from him to Benny. With quick fingers, you begin unlatching the seatbelt and pulling off the kevlar. When the straps are open and your button-up is exposed, you start moving down the buttons, but Santi’s hand shoots out to grab your wrist. “I need you to be very clear about what we are doing here.”
You look between Benny and Santi taking a deep breath, “I think we all need to take our mind off what’s going on. So use me, touch me, and if you want,” you bite your lip, “I can touch you too.”
You hear Benny’s sharp intake of breath before he smiles, “I’m in; what about you?” he points to Santi, who just stares at you.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” You grab the front of his shirt and pull him to you. His lips are slow at first and so damn warm. It takes him a moment, but he responds back, his tongue comes out to lick your bottom lip. Benny’s hands move back to your shirt and unlatch the remaining buttons before he dips his head and takes a clothed nipple into his mouth. You moan, and Santi breaks away, shushing you, “Shh, Sweetheart, let’s play a little game, “The first one to make a noise loses.” You nod, and he goes back to your lips, Benny’s fingers moving down to the button on your jeans.
He flips them open and slides the zipper down. His hand moving to dip below the waistband of your panties and in between your slick folds. “Shit, she is soaked for us, Pope.”
Santi breaks away and moves down to your neck, and bites down. You try your best not to make a sound; the pleasure from Benny’s hands and Santi’s mouth is indescribable. “Is that true sweetheart, are you soaked thinking about the two of us touching you? Kissing you? Making you cum?”
Benny slips a finger inside you, and your hips buck forward, sliding his finger deeper. Santiago moves a hand down to your breast and pulls down the bra below each one. Taking a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking up and down over the bud. Benny moves back to the other, and Santi’s hand comes to rub on your clit in slow torturous circles. You reach around them and pull down the zipper of their pants one at a time, pulling a cock out in each hand.
Pope is thick, and the sight of him makes your mouth water at the thought of him filling you up. Benny is not as thick, but fuck, he is long and just seems to grow the longer you pump him in your hand. Benny pulls off your breast with a pop and pulls your lips to his, his tongue sliding inside. It’s a battle of dominance, and you eventually submit. Eyes shooting open as he sides a second finger inside you. With Santi rubbing your clit and Benny finger fucking you, the stars explode before your eyes, and you gush all over his fingers.
“Oh yes,” Benny praises, “Cum on my fingers,” he adds a third finger and keeps pumping you through the orgasm, Santi upping the speed of his circles. You let go of their cocks and cover your mouth to suppress the screams you want to release.
“Good girl,” Santi’s voice comes static over the headset. “Such a pretty girl when you cum for us.” Benny’s fingers slide out of you, and he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen as he sucks them clean of your juices before chuckling.
“Fuck, she tastes sweeter than candy Pope. You going to let Pope have a taste of your sweetheart,” Benny coos, and you nod, attempting to smother your whimper. “I don’t like this game,” he frowns, looking at Pope. “I want to hear those sweet moans, her little whimpers when we make her cum.”
Santiago removes his fingers, and you frown. “What do you want, sweetheart? Tell us.”
“I want to make you cum,” you look between them, and Benny groans. You smile in victory, “It would seem we won,” you smile at Santi, and he nods.
“I think I’m the real winner here,” Benny smiles, kissing you again, “Now I can hear you moan our names when we make you cum.” You whimper, and Benny smiles victoriously. “See.” He reaches forward and twists your nipple between his fingers. “Pope, how about you finger our girl now, and I’ll take care of her clit? That way, you can taste how sweet she is.” Pope nods eagerly.
His hands dipping beneath the waistband of your jeans when his hand reaches your soaked cunt your hips lift off the seat, but Benny is quick to push you back down. He moves to push his cargo pants further down and puts your hand in your face, “Spit,” he orders, and you do before he is pushing your hand onto his cock. You run your thumb over the tip spreading the precum all over the tip. Santi quickly inserts two fingers, and gone is the slow movement as he thrusts into you furiously. A thin sheen of sweat breaking across your head. Benny moves down to rub your clit, and you spit into your other hand before grabbing Santi’s cock.
The three of you are in a bubble of pleasure, you pumping both their cocks in time with Santi’s thrusts and Benny’s circles. The bubble bursts, and you feel them coat your hands in ropes of hot thick cum. Their groans echo in your ear, and it sparks your own orgasm, and you tighten around Santi’s fingers, taking them deeper. You whimper and bite your lip so hard you bleed, but you can’t scream, or Will will wake up, and Redfly will come back and check on you.
When you finally feel your lungs inflate, you pull your hand away and look them in the eyes as you lick their cum off your hand. Benny’s pupils are blown so vast they are almost black, and you make a show of collecting it off with your tongue. Santi slowly pulls out of you, and you whimper as he keeps tilts your chin to watch him suck his fingers clean. “Shit Ben, you weren’t kidding. She’s damn delicious. I wonder what it would taste directly from the source.” You tremble, thinking of the both of them eating you out and fucking you in a bed.
“I want to fuck you so bad sweetheart,” Benny’s hands work to put your breasts back in your bra and button-up your shirt. Santi reaches for your pack between your legs and pulls out the wipes doing his best to clean your mess between your thighs before refastening your jeans. They each take a wipe, wipe any leftover cum off their pants, and zip them back up. You feel your heart melt as they work on buckling you back up into the seat and making sure the kevlar is secure across your chest.
“What if we did?” your voice is quiet, and they both freeze, turning to look at you. “What if when we got out of this goddamn mess, the three of us rent a room, and you fuck me...together?”
They take a moment to look at each other before nodding, “I’m okay with that. Pope?”
Santi nods again, “If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I won’t lie that the thought of fucking you has crossed my mind, and I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing you. As long as you’re okay with it?”
You smile, “So it’s agreed. As soon as we are safe and no one is trying to kill us, we get a room, and…” They smile and nod.
“Agreed. Now come on, sweetheart, I think we are all worn out after that. Let’s switch back to the main channel and get some sleep, okay?” You nod and curl up into Benny’s side, his arm between your own and head on his shoulder, his hand coming down to grip your inner thigh. Santiago lay’s his head back and closes his eyes; you reach for his hand and hold it between your own. The three of you drifting to sleep, dreaming of what’s to come between you.
Part 2 - Sweet as Mangoes
Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @lunarthoughts @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @amberembers @santiagogarcia @josepedropascal @revolution-starter @mariesackler @jedi-mando @spider-starry @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @demoncrypt1066 @goalkeepernerd @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @itspdameronthings
#Benny Miller#Benny Miller x Reader#santiago pope garcia#Santiago Pope Garcia x reader#Benny Miller x reader x Santiago pope garcia#Autumn Writes#Triple Frontier#pero tovar x female reader#Triple Frontier fic#Oscar Isaac#garret hedlund
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Hi! Do you have any advice for those who want to start writing?
Yes! So honored you asked. I'll put it below the cut. Other writers, feel free to chime in!
(Gearing this specifically towards tickle fics because, well, *gestures around*)
- Mentioned it a whole bunch in my other advice post but it really is a big deal: Write for yourself. I cannot stress it enough. Whatever you like to write, make sure you're having fun and you're writing what you like.
- Find your style! There is no krabby patty formula for The Ideal Style. Everyone has different preferences. Your preferences matter most! If you like all caps laughter dialogue? Great! No laughter dialogue at all? Cool! Reader fics? Nice! First person fics? Sick (pos)! Most people emulate the things that they like to read in their writing and I think that's a great place to start! I like 3rd person POV with an internal monologue and that's what I stick to, pretty much.
- Follow your inspirations. Okay so this one, yes, but be careful. If you like someone's writing or style, there's nothing wrong with emulating it/borrowing bits. That's how I learned to draw, actually (and how most artists learn their craft). If you like a certain author and they do something you like, try it out for yourself! I personally am not a fan of laughter dialogue, so I looked to the amazing writers around me to see how they describe laughs/sensation. It's a great way to learn, because your voice and style will filter through. What this doesn't mean, though, is plagiarizing. Not to sound like a school teacher but if it ain't yours, don't use it.
- Your style will change. Embrace it. I have improved so much since my first fics, and I did that by embracing change. Changing things up is good, actually, and it helps keep things fresh for you! Take a risk, switch something up, etc. It'll help avoid feeling like your fics are stale.
- Writing is practice. The only way you can possibly learn is by doing it. Whether or not you have a blog, just get writing! Try things out! Pick a pairing/group/character and experiment. That's how I started my blog in the first place. I posted a few FinnPoe experiments that I had and decided that I liked it here. Practice, practice, practice, my loves. Don't crunch or make yourself miserable.
- (re: write for yourself, writing is practice) if you find yourself writing fics for the sake of writing/attention, not because you enjoy it, then step back. I had...trauma relating to creating any sort of fandom content because of this. Not everything is gonna be sunshine and roses (talked about in the next point), but if you feel miserable, it's okay to take a break. I don't want to lean too heavily on this, but if you'd like to read more on it, this post about covers it.
- You don't have to like everything you make, okay? You really don't. Don't let anyone tell you that you do. Not every fic is gonna be the Mona Lisa, either. I have many a fic that I've made that I loathe--some posted, some not. Sometimes you run out of steam, sometimes the idea doesn't blossom how you want, sometimes you just fall out of love with a fic. That's okay and normal. Just try to learn from the creative experience for your next go around.
- Taking prompts is hard. Don't hurt yourself. This...is one I need to get better at. If you're looking to run a blog and take prompts (which you don't have to do, btw), that's so cool and funky fresh of you, but do so with your health in mind. Please. If you get a prompt for something you don't like/are uncomfortable with, you don't have to write it. If you are creating content, you have no obligation to create anything that makes you uncomfortable.
If you wanna take prompts, take a number you can handle and the ones that inspire you most. If you have to decline a prompt, that's totally fine. Start and don't finish? That's okay too. People may be disappointed, but you matter more than that disappointment. I can talk more about taking prompts in another post if anyone's interested but I'll leave it at that for now.
- (Re: writing is practice) Get going! Easier said than done, I know, but really do get going. No amount of theorizing is gonna get a fic done, just do it. Try it out. You and your writing are worthy and ever-growing. The writers you idolize are likely agonizing over a WIP or five (hey writers go write a sentence on one of your WIPs rn). Take the leap and try.
- It's okay to work on a fic little by little. I have literally 30+ fics cooking at the moment. Every once in a while I add a paragraph or two. Sometimes I get inspired and write a fic or two in one go. I've had WIPs I've been sitting on since my blog's inception (*casts a sidelong glance at the Home Again series*) and that's perfectly okay. You'll see some people churning out fics every week. If that's you, great! If that's not you, that's okay. Be gentle with yourself.
- (Re: writing is practice, get going) Headcanons and drabbles do wonders for inspiration. I do this all the time. Tell us your thoughts on a character, write something short, etc. It's a great way to dip your toes in the water. Ask for headcanon requests if you want! I have a headcanon tag and I treat it like my spice rack when I write. Not only will writing little bite-sized bits help your brain get going, you'll be able to lean on these bits for later works. Do one of those little "send me a character" ask memes! Reblog a sentence starter list and ask for submissions! Or just do them on your own! Get going.
- Submit fics if you want! My submission box is open (I only take SFW submissions at the moment) and other writers likely take them too. Send an ask/message and ask the person (me included) if it's okay to submit something, and they'll host that fic on their blog! This is ideal for anon writers who don't want to/can't run a blog. I always sing the praises of having a blog because there's nothing better than having a space that's yours, but if you're nervous, that's an excellent place to start. Make sure you follow any submission rules that person may have (and sign your work)! AO3 is an excellent avenue as well.
- EDIT: Writing is like riding a bike. It may take some time for you to get used to it/get into a groove you’re happy with. That’s okay. Take your time and soon enough you’ll be on your way. If you fall, just make sure you get back up.
If you're looking for a sign to start, this is it. I believe in you. If anyone has any more questions, feel free to ask. Anon, I hope this helps <3
Other writers feel free to add your own advice!
#advice tag#bug answers#anon#thank you for asking <3#if anyone has questions/comments my askbox is open and so are my dms#if you'd like to talk in specifics ('how was your experience writing x fic?' 'how did you do y?') im always happy to do so as well#if you want clarification/me to expand on one of the points above lmk! i have plenty more to say#sorry if i sound aggressive/tense/hostile at any point. ive made my fair share of mistakes and i dont want anyone to follow in my footsteps#hope this helps!!!!#writers feel free to add to this <3
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Wrong Type of Comfort
This Imagine from @imagine-loki submitted by @jotun-philosopher gave me an idea for a small fic. Did not follow it much so there’s a twist to it.
Word Count : 1700
Prompt : Imagine Loki noticing you’re upset about something, so he turns himself into a huge purry fluffy cat and jumps on you to tromple you with his fuzzy lil’ paddy-paws and give you snuggles and headpushes
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Sometimes the world is just not on your side and you feel like it’s personally out to get you.
The last few weeks feel like you were running on autopilot. Going through the motions at work and crashing without any energy left at the end of the day.
The weekend finally arrived and you were able to relax around the tower. Tony had given you the weekend off when he noticed how beat up you were but it was now Sunday and all the sleeping and relaxing hadn’t helped at all. You still felt exhausted.
When you woke up this morning, you made your way to the shared living room. Since you had spent the last two days in your room to rest and it hadn’t worked, you thought that a change of scenery might help you recharge.
Tony was the first person to see you on the couch under your pile of blankets.
“Hey there Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” Tony asked you, trying to see where your head was under everything.
“Hi Tony, I thought the time off would help but I can’t seem to shake off this tiredness,” you admit popping your head up to see him clearly.
“You can take more time off Y/N. We need you on the team but we need you at a hundred percent. I want you to be okay and not burnt out,” You can see the worry in Tony’s eyes. You feel bad for making him worry so much.
“I can’t make you just wait for me Tony. I’ll be able to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t rush it Y/N, you can take at least another day okay? I don’t want to see you do any work before Tuesday, got it?”
“If that makes you stop worrying so much about me Tony, I’ll do it.”
“I always worry about you Y/N/ Now, do you need anything? Soup, tea, water.. anything?”
“I’m okay Tony, really please stop worrying about me.”
“Okay then. I’ll send someone to check on you in a few hours to make sure you’re eating,” with that he ruffled your hair and walked away.
You smiled and fixed up the hair that fell into your eyes. Having someone care so much about you feels good, but it’s not enough to completely lift the funk that you’re in.
Flipping the channels on the tv, you stopped on a cartoon that you enjoyed when you were younger and cuddled further into the couch. An hour into the movie, Steve comes in the room with a tray full of food.
“Tony sent me a message saying that you were in here and needed, and I quote, ‘a shit ton of food’. Is there anything that you want and don’t see here?”
“Thank you Steve but you didn’t have to do all of this! I won’t be able to eat it all.” He had brought you a giant bowl of mixed fruits, some eggs, pancakes, toasts, a few different kinds of jams, waffles with all the toppings, and a plate full of bacon.
“I can help with that,” Loki smoothly waltz in the room with a smirk. Loki and you weren’t what you would call friends but you would talk once in a while.
“I mean, if Steve is okay with it, he’s the one who made it all,” you look at him for his input.
“Go right ahead Loki I just ate, but make sure Y/N eats her share. Tony’s orders.”
You roll your eyes but Loki nods and comes to sit beside you on the couch. Once Steve leaves the room, Loki turns to you looking curious.
“So why are the Captain and robotic man so worried about you this time?” Loki asks when he pops a grape into his mouth.
“They’re just over reacting. I’ve been tired lately and all the sleep I had in the last two days hasn’t helped, but I’ll be okay.”
“Have you fallen ill?”
“I don’t think I have.” You hadn’t thought of that. You didn’t notice any more symptoms but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a small fever.
Loki surprised you by sitting closer and reaching his hand to touch your forehead. That is the first time he’s ever touched you and you weren’t expecting how smooth his hand was. You’ve seen videos of how he fights and you expected his hands to be rough.
“Well, your temperature seems okay but I wouldn’t be the best judge since, well, frost giant and everything,” he moves back to his previous spot on the couch and reaches for more food.
You chuckle and reach for some food as well. “Friday, could you check my vitals please?”
“Of course Y/N, your vitals are all good.”
“So no fever Friday?”
“Your temperature is normal Miss Y/N.”
“Thank you Friday. I guess you were right Loki.”
“I guess so, now make sure you eat enough of this before I get blamed.” Loki grabs the bowl of fruits and plops it onto your lap.
Talking to people and seeing them trying to take care of you is helping lift your spirits just a little bit.
“So what has been going on Y/N? Friday said there was nothing medically wrong,” Loki asks again, not pushing but curious.
“I think it’s mentally. I’ve been feeling a lot negative and low energy for the last few weeks and nothing seems to get better. Usually a good night’s sleep will help but lately it’s been dream after dream where I wake up even more stressed than I was before.”
“So you haven’t been sleeping well?”
“No. Even the last two days, the only thing I did was sleep and relax but it didn’t help me.”
“Could I try something to help?”
“Of course,” you nod almost enthusiastically, wanting anything to help you rest.
You watch as Loki completely disappears in front of your eyes and a black cat is sitting right where he was, the eyes are the same ones you were looking into a few seconds before just more cat-like.
The cat pads his way to you and head-butts your cheek before sitting next to the fruit bowl on your lap.
You smile sweetly at him until you feel a sneeze explode out of you. Once your eyes open, even Loki notices how watered they got. Another sneeze comes out and Loki jumps back to his previous spot and turns back into himself.
“What’s wrong? I thought you weren’t sick,” worry floods his eyes.
“No I’m not sick it’s,” another sneeze. “It’s only allergies. I’m allergic to cats,” and another sneeze.
“I am so sorry, darling!” You can see how bad Loki feels. “Is there something I can do?”
A sneeze comes out before you can start talking. “Could you just get my allergy medication from my bathroom?”
“Yes, of course!” Loki jumps up from the couch and disappears from the room.
A few seconds later, Loki comes back with the bottle of medication you needed and hands it to you. You pop a pill and swallow it between sneezes.
“I apologize, Y/N. I didn’t know you’d have a bad reaction like this.”
“It’s okay Loki, you didn’t know I was allergic. It’s not your fault.” By the end of the conversation your symptoms had already slowed down a lot. You’re sneezing stopped but your nose was still congested. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
“Trying being the key word right?” You laugh. “Are you allergic to dogs as well?”
“No, I love dogs!”
Loki smirks and transforms himself into a beautiful black lab and makes his way towards you on the couch. You smile and pat his head when he rests it on your lap.
“Would you like some?” You ask Loki pointing to the fruit bowl next to his face. He just pushes the bowl a bit with his nose closer towards you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be eating some too.” You pick up a piece of watermelon and put it next to his mouth.
You spend the rest of the morning like this, eating through the food tray together and finishing the rest of your movie, you even start another one. After all the food is gone you make yourself more comfortable on the couch and Loki does too, coming closer to you.
He head-butts your hand until you get the message and you start to pet him. The soothing motion of petting his soft fur slowly makes you fall into a comfortable, stress free sleep and Loki falls asleep as well.
A few hours later, Tony walks in to check on Y/N and what he sees is not something he’d ever imagine seeing. His little chuckle wakes up the dog on the couch. Loki slowly removes himself from next to you and makes his way toward Tony and by the time he’s in front of him, he’s back to his Asgardian form.
“One word of this to anyone and you will regret it,” Loki fumes into Tony’s face.
“Don’t worry Lassie, you helped Y/N feel better so I’ll keep your soft side a secret,” Tony smirks and leaves the room.
Loki’s furious face disappears when he turns around and sees you still sound asleep on the couch with a peaceful expression on your face. He makes his way closer to you and makes sure you’re covered under your blanket then picks up everything around and brings it all to the kitchen.
“Did she eat some of it or did you eat it all?” Steve asks when he sees Loki dropping off the empty food tray.
“She ate most of it actually. After she got comfortable she ate a lot more. She’s sleeping peacefully now so don’t go rushing in there.”
“Tony sent out a message just a few minutes ago to the whole tower saying not to bother her.”
“Of course he did,” Loki rolls his eyes and turns to leave the room.
“Hey, Loki. Thanks for helping her,” Steve sincerely says.
Loki nods and leaves the room. You might be able to call your relationship a friendship now.
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Amazing and Corny
Author: @hutchhitched
Prompt: Corn Maze [submitted by @sunsetsrmydreams]
Rating: T
Summary: Stressed over classes, Katniss gives in when her friend Gale insists she join their group of friends at a corn maze. Somehow, she finds herself lost with Peeta, the golden boy she’s admired from afar since their freshman year of college. As a thunderstorm rumbles overhead, they find their way out of the maze and discover each other, too.
Author’s Note: Thanks to @mandelion82 for the extra set of eyes.
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Katniss Everdeen looked around her, wondering how in the hell she’d been dragged along on what her best friend Gale Hawthorne insisted was an adventure. As far as she was concerned, this qualified as a misadventure more than anything else. She didn’t have time for this, anyway. Only six weeks left in the semester, and she was at a damn corn maze an hour from the middle of nowhere.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into something so stupid,” she grumbled, but Gale just knocked his shoulder against hers and laughed.
“Oh, come on, Catnip,” he chided. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I hear a certain someone might make an appearance, and I know how tantalizing that can be for the young co-eds such as yourself.”
“Shut up,” she snapped and immediately blushed the same shade as the sugar maple across the road. Ducking her head to hide the distinctly scarlet hue her cheeks had flamed, she crossed her arms over her chest and shrunk in on herself. Besides, who talked like that? Apparently Gale when he was messing with her.
Peeta Mellark. That’s who Gale meant, and her stomach fluttered at the possibility he might attend the evening’s event. Peeta was friends with Delly Cartwright who knew Annie Cresta who dated Finnick Odair who was friends with Johanna Mason who her traitorous best friend happened to be dating. It was not her favorite relationship of his.
“Relax. He might not come. Anyway, it’s not like you’d talk to him if he was here. You haven’t managed to yet the entire time we’ve been on campus together.”
Katniss hung her head because Gale was right. Peeta seemed to be friends with everyone at Panem State, the mid-level public university in the Midwest she and her friends attended. Everyone, that was, but her. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. She’d run into him multiple times over the past two and a half years, but every time she clammed up, unable to speak and overwhelmed by his warmth. As far as she was concerned, Peeta Mellark was amazing. She adored his affable nature and the corny jokes he told. Her family always called them groaners, but he’d often joked he was practicing for when he became a dad. Peeta shone like the sun, and she paled in comparison.
And that made her feel even worse. Peeta had dad jokes, and Katniss quaked at the thought of future children. She wasn’t even 21 yet, and she didn’t understand the tendency of those around her who had baby fever. At least that was one thing Gale’s girlfriend had going for her. Johanna Mason didn’t seem to have a maternal bone in her body.
“But what if he does?” she mumbled and scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dust.
“Peeta?” At her nod, he sighed. “If he shows up, you might want to actually speak to him. At this point, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable around him. He’s even asked the group if he did something to offend you.”
“He is offensive,” Katniss groused. “He’s too bright and shiny. Too nice. Too charming. I mean, give the rest of us a break. We can’t live up to his golden boy perfection.”
Gale rolled his eyes and looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Jo,” he called. “Delly, Peeta, Finn, Annie. Good to see you.”
Katniss’ stomach dropped to her feet. There was no way he hadn’t heard her. No possibility that Peeta Mellark hadn’t witnessed her confession that she thought his perfection was rivaled by none. How in the world could she play this off? She needed a place to hide. She was just about to bolt when Gale grabbed her forearm and tugged her against his side.
“Stay put,” he growled under his breath. “You avoiding him is ridiculous.”
Katniss elbowed him in the ribs, but he only acknowledged it with a barely audible grunt. Instead, he turned to his girlfriend and kissed her, which devolved into a filthy, open-mouthed, possibly pornographic grope fest that only ended because Finnick wolf whistled.
“Get a room! We’re here for the corn maze, not a tryst with a corn cob.”
“I don’t know. I think the corn might be jealous of Hawthorne’s cob,” Johanna retorted and turned her lascivious grin on Gale. “Later, lover,” she promised.
“Gross,” Katniss mumbled, and Peeta snorted. He hid his mouth and covered the chuckle with a cough, but his eyes sparkled mischievously when he glanced her way.
“Let’s go,” Finnick said, enthusiasm practically vibrating out of him as he led the way to the corn maze entrance. He purchased tickets for their group of seven and then tugged Annie into the maze. Katniss trudged along at the back of the group.
It didn’t take long for them to spread out, the couples drifting away from Katniss, Delly, and Peeta as the duos held hands and snuggled together. Delly and Peeta chatted companionably, while Katniss glowered and tried not to feel like a third wheel. Peeta attempted to engage her a few times, but she brushed off his efforts and stopped paying attention until they were fairly deep into the maze.
“Uh, Delly, do you have any idea where we are?” Peeta asked, shocking Katniss out of her stupor.
The night had cooled, humidity and the threat of rain making the air seem colder than it should. Katniss glanced upward and blanched at roiling clouds and lazy lightning sparking in the atmosphere. She shivered involuntarily and shifted closer to the other two.
“Not a clue,” Delly answered cheerfully. “Let’s try this way.” With that, she was off, leaving Peeta and Katniss in her wake. They stood together in semi-stunned silence before Peeta turned to her with a sheepish expression.
“Well, alone at last,” he said in an attempted joke that fell flat.
“We need better friends,” Katniss sighed. “The whole lot of them are terrible people.”
Amused, Peeta returned, “I feel like that says something about us, that we’d both choose crappy friends and allow them to, first, talk us into a corn maze on the night of a predicted thunderstorm during a really busy time in the semester and, second, abandon us like this. It feels like a plot to a bad horror film or something.”
“Horror or Hallmark?”
Peeta ran a hand down the back of his neck nervously and cocked his head. “What do you mean by Hallmark?”
“Oh, you know. Those corny movies where a woman goes back to her hometown and reconnects with some hot guy who convinces her the country is more wholesome than the city and she forgets all about her job and friends and the life she’s built for herself,” Katniss explained. “They always make me so mad. Like the female lead isn’t smart enough to have made decisions for herself, and she has to be saved by the noble, hot stranger who’s got it all figured out. It’s mansplaining at its finest.”
“What if the guy’s right?”
“Why? Because he’s hot and feels an inordinate desire to protect a woman who doesn’t need his help? If anyone ever tried that with me…” Katniss trailed into silence, unsure what the rest of her threat actually was. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate help; she just wanted help from someone who understood she could do it by herself, even if that wasn’t necessary.
Peeta studied her carefully, his expression unreadable, and she wondered if she’d offended him, somehow. He licked his lips and tugged the collar of his jacket up under his ears before speaking.
“Well, that explains some things.”
She bristled immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” he sighed, clearly dejected, “it makes more sense why you haven’t given me the time of day the past two years.”
Katniss gaped at him, completely taken aback at this statement. It took her a second to form a coherent thought, but she finally managed to stammer, “Wh-what?”
Peeta’s mouth twisted into an expression of misery. “You seem to hate me, and I have no idea why.”
Flustered, she blurted, “How does that have anything to do with hot guys from small towns? I— You’re— Yeah, hot. You really are, but… I’m so lost.”
Peeta flushed, his cheeks flaming red, and he stubbed his toe into the ground and refused to look at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Brought—?” Katniss stopped herself and held up her hands in surrender. Gently, she prodded, “Peeta? What are you saying?”
He shook his head and hunched his shoulders, shielding against the chilly weather and his disappointment. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that guy,” he whispered.
“What guy?” she asked, using every ounce of her strength to quell her frustration.
He lifted tortured eyes and answered softly, “The guy that seems to think he’s entitled to a girl’s attention. The one that mansplains. The one who takes over the room when he walks in. I’ve never intended to do that, but you’ve always shied away from the popular crowd. You have every right to ignore me if you want. I didn’t mean to imply that you owe anything to me.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, that makes way more sense than… Well, than anything I was thinking.”
Curious, he asked tentatively, “What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to figure out how you were the hot, small-town guy luring me away from the city,” she laughed, and he grinned a little.
“Well, you did say I was hot.”
“You are hot,” she sputtered. Peeta coughed to cover a pleased smirk. His response was so soft, she almost missed it.
“Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t ever try to insinuate you weren’t smart enough to make your own decisions.”
The tips of his ears burned red, which she thought was about the cutest thing she’d ever seen. She opened her mouth to speak when her phone interrupted them. Grimacing, she tugged it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Gale,” she offered in explanation. “He wants to know where we are.”
“We’re in the corn maze. Where else would we be? Is everybody else done or something?”
She nodded to affirm. “They’re all waiting at the picnic tables. Even Delly’s there. They have cider.”
They glanced around them and realized they still had no idea where they were. Katniss hadn’t been paying attention as they wound into the maze, and Peeta had clearly followed Delly’s direction. In short, they were lost. Katniss glanced upward, as a few fat drops of rain spattered around them.
“Would it be corny to say I’d rather be lost in here with you than anyone else?” Peeta asked, his lips quirked into a crooked grin.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a crop of freshmen on campus. Wouldn’t you rather be with one of them?”
Peeta’s eyes twinkled. “Punny.”
“Same to you.”
“You’re amazing,” he laughed, and they grinned at each other, content to joke about their predicament. Seconds later, the sky opened, lightning flashed, and they both jumped. “We need to get out of here.”
Katniss extended her hand to him. “Together?”
“Together,” he agreed as he took her hand.
They walked quickly then, alternating right turns with lefts until they began to see a pattern. Corn stalks guided their way as they wound through the maze, hopeful they were on the right track, as rain poured from the heavens. Soaking wet, they clung to each other, a lifeline in their confusion. They hadn’t seen anyone else for several minutes, and Katniss started to shake—from cold, anxiety, and frustration.
“It’s going to be okay,” Peeta assured her. Letting go of her hand, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. When she protested, he insisted. “I’m all right.”
“I thought you trusted me to make my own decisions,” she retorted, but her clacking teeth and shivers undermined her argument.
He wrapped his arm around her and guided them down another corridor. “I do. I promise, but your sense of direction is as terrible as mine. Let’s get out of here, and then you can go back to resisting my advances.”
“Have you been making advances?” she asked, curious.
“Since the moment I saw you across the room. You have no idea the effect you have on me.”
She’d have to ponder that once they’d escape the maze. She was too cold, too disoriented, and too woozy from the heat of his jacket and arm curled around her. The stress of the semester had been weighing on her more than she’d thought, and there was something really compelling about allowing someone else to take charge.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Peeta sputtered as they rounded another corner and spied the flags marking the maze exits. His curls were plastered to his head in dark blonde waves, and he looked absolutely miserable in his soaking wet navy blue Henley and dark washed jeans.
“Wait,” she pleaded. “Wait.”
Peeta stopped immediately and turned questioning eyes to meet hers. His willingness to take her seriously without question made her smile. “What’s up?” he asked, rubbing her arms to warm her.
Katniss reached for him, grabbing his sopping shirt and tugging him to her. Their lips met as thunder rumbled above them, and she leaned into his heat. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him and increasing the pressure of his mouth on hers. They stood there, tangled together, until an echoing boom of thunder shook them apart.
“Electrifying,” he murmured as lightning flashed.
Katniss giggled and burrowed into his chest. “Such a dad joke.”
“They’re coming out my ears.”
“No. Stop. That was terrible.”
“I can’t help it. They just pop up when I least expect them.”
“So corny,” she grinned.
“So amazing,” he corrected and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of her, ditch our friends, and get to know each other.”
Katniss nodded. At the moment, there was nothing she wanted more.
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For the college AUs 7 for Danbry or 61 for Indruck? (I’m super excited for any of these btw. You are definitely part of the reason I started shipping Sternclay jsyk ❤️)
Always makes me smile when I learn I write something well enough that I’m part of why someone starts shipping it <3
I’m doing #61 first, #7 will come next. I’m putting a minor CW for bullying on this one, since some people on the confession page are dicks about Indrids appearance.
Prompt: our school has a student-run confessional fb page/insta/etc. account where people can anonymously submit things related to the campus and some of these posts are 100% about me???
Indrid should probably sleep. But he can’t. He’s been having weird nightmares. So instead he’s laying in the dark, refreshing things on his phone, like the “campus confessions” page.
There’s a guy in one my folklore classes who looks like a moth, y’know red eyes, looks like he’s bumped into one too many windows. Total weirdo.
Well, that hardly seems fair. But he supposes it’s vague that the other person won’t know they’re being insulted.
Dude who smiles too wide?
Maybe ;)
What’s with him? He’s always in like ten layers, never talks about anything normal. Should wash his hair too.
Indrid’s stomach drops. He touches his glasses (red lensed), pulls his sweatshirt tighter (he’s always cold), looks at his hair with a frown. Given he’s in one of the few folklore classes on campus, he’s sure they’re talking about him.
There’s a new comment. He may as well look, it can’t get much worse.
Hey y’all, this page is for talking about crushes or weird shit you pulled, not making fun of some fella who ain’t done anything to you.
He sets his phone down, rolls over onto his side.
At least someone doesn’t hate him.
------------------------------------------
He keeps his hood up, doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t even look up as the other students come into the classroom. He doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, really, he doesn’t. He thought he was being friendly.
There’s a plunk of a backpack next to him.
“Mornin, Indrid.”
He breaks his promise not to look at anyone. Because in the seat beside him is Duck Newton AKA the hottest guy in the whole school (according to Indrid). Indrid wants to look at him all day, would do even more than look if he thought Duck would like it.
“Good morning, Duck.” He starts to smile, snatches the gesture back before it becomes weird.
“You, uh, you okay? You look a little under the weather.”
“I didn’t sleep well.” He murmurs.
“That’s rough, buddy.” He peers at what Indrid is drawing.
“Wow, that’s real good. More cyrptids?”
“Yes, the hodag and the flathead lake monster. And thank you.”
They settle into silence as the lecture starts, although Indrid swears he catches Duck glancing his way more than usual.
----------------------------------------
It’s nearly midnight as he flips over to the “campus confessions” page. Reads over them, only half paying attention, until:
I got a crush on a guy in one of my classes. The “wanna see what’s behind those red glasses and get my hands into that white hair” kinda crush.
Funny, once again this sounds like someone’s describing him.
He writes it off as an anomaly. But then, the next night:
My folklore class is the only one I like because the cute guy I sit by makes it easy not to be bored. Plus he’s always drawing cool shit. I’m this close to offering him my jacket the next time he starts shivering.
Okay, maybe there is someone in that class who has a crush on him. Still, he’s not about to get his hopes up.
-------------------------------------
“Hey, stranger, this seat taken?”
Indrid looks up from his notes to see Duck leaning on the chair across from him, smiling. He wants to say something clever, instead shakes his head. Duck drops his backpack on the floor, puts his coffee down on the table between them.
“Midterms?” Indrid indicates the large stack of books Duck removes from his bag.
“Yeah, got two back to back tomorrow.”
“Oh dear.”
“Eh, ain’t the end of the world.” He sniffs the air, “what’re you drinkin’, smells good?”
“Eggnog Latte.”
“In October?”
“It’s never the wrong time for eggnog. And whoever makes the menu for the coffeehouse seems to agree.”
“Fair enough.” Duck grins at him, turns his attention to his notes. Indrid does the same, but he can never focus on one thing for long, keeps making comments or asking questions and he’s afraid Duck will get fed up with him and leave.
Instead, Duck matches him question for question, and ends up going on a twenty minute tangent about trees that Indrid finds captivating. When they eventually have to leave (Indrid to attempt to sleep and Duck to barricade himself in the 24-hour study room), Duck puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, this was real nice. We oughta do it again.”
Indrid smiles, nods, “I’d like that, so very much.”
--------------------------------------------------
The compliments that are almost certainly about him continue, frequent enough that he starts taking time to make sure he looks nice before each class (which means he actually tries to brush his hair or put on clothes that are flattering). He and Duck have more study sessions, and he can sometimes bring himself to believe that Duck looks at him like he wants him during those meetings.
Of course, it can’t last.
Think my crush might be on to me, he’s been dressing extra nice, even got a glimpse of his moth tattoo the other day.
Indrid glances at the rosy maple moth on his arm with a smirk. His smile falters as soon as he sees the comment below the post
Dude, I know who you’re talking about and if you’re looking for a pity fuck there are way better options.
He doesn’t wait to see other responses, instead drags the covers over his head and falls into an unhappy sleep.
The next morning when Duck sits down beside him in class, all he can manage is a weak smile in his direction. He doesn’t really feel like talking.
That night, there’s another post.
If the guy in my folklore class likes me back, he should meet me on the red bench outside the coffehouse at six tomorrow night.
Which is how Indrid finds himself sitting on a bench as it gets dark and the wind picks up, hoping beyond hope that this was a genuine offer and not some kind of prank.
“Hey, stranger.”
He jumps, turns to see Duck standing there with a coffee cup in each hand. Oh no, if he sits down, the other person may decide not to come and Indrid will never know who his-
“Glad you got the message.” Duck gives him a crooked grin, sits down and hands him a cup that smells like an eggnog latte.
“I, you, wait, you’re my admirer?”
Duck snickers.
“Here I thought I was beein’ obvious, especially with the wantin’ to spend more time ‘studyin’’ with you.”
Indrid’s heart leaps up, then lands with a splat as he remembers one of the posts.
“No, no, this is some kind of pity thing, you, you must feel sorry for me-”
Duck sets his coffee down, reaches for Indrids hands.
“Contrary to what some assholes on that confession page think, pity ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. I did post the first compliment because it seemed like you mighta seen the mean ones and I wanted to balance it out. But I’ve had a crush on you since week three of classes, and I was pretty sure you liked me back. Kept hopin’ you ask me out.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me that way, you’re so handsome and I’m so..not”
Indrid blushes, notes the matching color creeping up Ducks cheeks.
“You think I’m handsome?” He says softly.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Indrid blinks, confused. Duck gestures to himself, mainly at his stomach and face
“You are soft and solid looking, which I like. and I enjoy your blue hair. I, on the other hand, am angular and skinny.”
“Which I like.” Duck wraps an arm around Indrids shoulder, pulling them against each other, “not to mention the best part of my week is the days I see you, cause I like talkin’ with you and you make me happy.”
Indrid’s not sure where the surge of bravery comes from, but he leans forward and kisses Duck, who makes a surprised “mphh!” before smiling into the kiss. It’s fumbly on account of his glasses and the odd angle he’s sitting at, but he can’t bring himself to care.
“Was that alright, I’m sorry I should have oh!” Duck grabs him and pulls him back for another kiss with enough force that he nearly ends up in his lap. From the way he’s hungrily mapping the shape of Indrids mouth with his own, Indrid guesses he’s not the only one who fantasized about this moment. He’s eternally grateful everyone else is sensibly holed up indoors when Ducks mouth drops to the crook of his neck, the shorter man yanking his scarf aside to kiss the sensitive skin there. Because Indrid gasps, follows it with a moan and fists his hands into Ducks jacket, which makes Duck growl against him in response. He looks up, cheek still pressed against Indrids shoulder, panting and smiling.
“Better than I imagined.”
“Me t-too.”
“Are your teeth chatterin’?”
“Y-yes, c-cold.”
“Can’t have that” Duck nuzzles his neck, “you wanna take this somewhere warm?”
“Please.”
“Your place or mine?”
“Whichever’s c-closer.”
“Mine it is. Come on, darlin’,” He stands, offering Indrid his hand. Indrid interlaces their fingers as he joins him and then they hurry off, together, into the night.
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I wrote this for the Chisakuraoi Week blog, just in time for the late submission deadline!
While this blog inspired me to write some one-shots for my Danganronpa OT4 lately, I didn’t really want to submit them. They’re on AO3 and I didn’t want to link to every single one. (I plan on posting a link to the series I made for them someday, but I don’t know if all of them are going to fit the rules and prompts of the blog, so I didn’t want to submit the link for that reason.) Plus the ones I’ve written so far are very Naegi-centric, so I figured they wouldn’t fit anyway.
So that’s why I threw this one together. Plus, I wanted to write something Halloween-related. I mean, that was one of the prompts, so... yeah. I don’t care if it’s not Halloween yet. I have an excuse!
I will probably post it on AO3 around Halloween.
"Wow, Chihiro! I didn't think you'd be such a huge fan of Halloween," Aoi said as she looked at all of the decorations hung up in Chihiro's house.
"W-well, it helps that Halloween doesn't have to be scary," Chihiro pointed out bashfully, gesturing toward the most child-friendly depiction of a ghost ever conceived by mankind that was pasted on the wall. "Without the scary stuff, it's just an excuse for families and friends to hang out and have fun. So of course I love it!" he added with a burst of excitement.
"But to have a Halloween party at your house... Aren't you worried people won't like it because it's not scary?" Aoi asked.
That made Chihiro nervous. "Ah! You... don't think people will get mad if it isn't scary, d-do you?" he asked, his face starting to sweat.
"N-no, that's not what I meant!" Aoi said, waving her hands in front of her. "I just figured... some of them might be expecting a scare or something. Uh... forget I said anything." She clenched her eyes shut. She didn't want Chihiro to be hurt by her concerns. "I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Are... are you sure?" Chihiro asked.
"Yeah," Aoi said. "Our friends will love it because you threw it. I'm sure of that," she added with a smile.
"O-okay." Chihiro's smile returned, and Aoi was happy to see it.
"Alright, I'm going to go prepare for the party," Aoi said as she walked to the door. "See you tonight?"
"Yeah! See ya!" Chihiro waved Aoi goodbye as she walked out the door.
When she came back to Chihiro's house, Aoi was surprised to find that Mondo had greeted her at the door. She was somehow less surprised to see him wearing a tiger costume.
"Hey, Mondo! Where's Chihiro?" Aoi asked.
"He and Sakura are getting their costumes ready," Mondo told her as Aoi stepped inside. "So, who are you supposed to be?" he asked, looking at her brown leather jacket and gray cap.
"Lee Christmas," Aoi said with a shrug. "You know how I am when it comes to Jason Statham. Plus I couldn't pass up the joke, since... y'know... it's Halloween, not Christmas."
"...Right."
Aoi removed her shoes and entered the living room. There she ran into Makoto and Komaru, dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy.
"Hey, Hina!" Makoto greeted. "Cool outfit!"
"Thanks!" Aoi looked around the room. "So, are Chihiro and Sakura still getting ready or something?"
"I heard they were planning something," Makoto said.
"Yeah, I can't wait to see what they're planning!" Komaru added excitedly. "I'm getting goosebumps."
"Wait, they planned something without me?" Aoi asked with a pout, disappointed that she was left out of the fun.
"Aw, don't worry about it, Hina! I'm sure they just wanted you to be surprised like the rest of us," Makoto assured her.
"Yeah, they wouldn't just leave you out for no reason," Komaru agreed.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Aoi said, though she was still bummed out about it.
But before she could dwell on it any longer, the light in the room went out. In the darkness she heard the voices of several of her friends.
"What the heck?!"
"What's going on?"
"Oooh, I hope this is that surprise I heard about!"
"What is it?"
Then, from somewhere in the darkness, a flashlight turned on, and like a spotlight it landed... on Aoi's brother Yuta, wearing 19th century European-style clothes. Yuta cleared his throat.
"I am Robert Wilson--" he began. After some barely audible whispers behind him, he corrected himself. "--Walton. Robert Walton. And I will cement my name in history as the first explorer to reach the South Pole--" More whispers. "--North Pole, I mean. I will share all that I learn on my journey with my sister, Margaret." He walked over to Aoi and handed her an envelope. "That's you," he whispered, before walking back to where he was before.
Aoi looked at the envelope and found nothing in it. Confused, she turned her attention back to her brother.
"Oh, but what is this!" Yuta announced in an overly dramatic fashion. He moved to the side as Sakura rushed from one room to another in the hallway behind him, too fast for anyone to see her costume. "Why, it appears to be some kind of large person. That is awfully strange. Oh, but what is this again!"
The door Sakura had run out of opened, and Chihiro fell out of the room to the floor. At first the party-goers were shocked, but Chihiro waved an arm to let everyone know he was alright and that this was part of the show. Chihiro was also wearing 19th century European-style clothing.
Yuta ran up to Chihiro. "Tell me, my good man, what is your name?"
"I am Victor Frankenstein," Chihiro said meekly, and immediately everyone watching the scene finally understood what was going on, judging by everyone's collective noises of acknowledgement. "And I am now going to tell you my life story, which you will then write in full to your sister for some reason." He handed Yuta a stack of letters and Yuta ran over to Aoi to hand them to her, which earned some laughter from the crowd.
"I had made a terrible mistake, Mr. Walton," Chihiro began. "You see, in my youth I was obsessed with the idea of creating life. And through means that I will not explain, which will eventually be a headache for filmmakers later, I succeeded!"
The flashlight went out, and after a few seconds of darkness someone flickered the light on and off to give a lightning effect, revealing Sakura dressed as the Creature at the back of the hallway. Everyone in the room cheered, and Sakura gave them a bow.
After the humorous little abridged version of Frankenstein was finished, Aoi ran over to the three performers and joined them in a group hug. "That was amazing, guys! I never knew you guys could act!"
"In all honesty, I'm not sure if that would be considered 'acting,'" Sakura admitted in a tongue-in-cheek manner. "But it was fun."
"Honestly, I was super nervous at first," Chihiro admitted, "but Yuta fumbling over his lines actually helped me feel a lot better. Thanks, Yuta!"
Yuta laughed nervously. "Ha, yeah... I definitely messed up on purpose to help build up your confidence, Chihiro... Totally on purpose, yup." Yuta then broke out of the group hug and went to the kitchen to get something to eat.
Aoi chuckled, but then her face dropped and hardened, surprising Sakura and Chihiro. "Okay, but next time you do something like this, you're going to include me, right?"
Chihiro laughed nervously. "Heh, sorry... We actually did this mostly for you. We thought it'd be fun, since Sakura and I already agreed to dress up as Victor Frankenstein and the Creature."
Sakura nodded. "Don't blame Chihiro either. It was my idea to make it a surprise."
Aoi's face softened. "Aw, don't feel bad. I'm just messing with you guys. But yeah, definitely add me to the fun next time, 'kay? I mean, you didn't even have, uh... Elizabeth, I think? I could have been Elizabeth, you know." She winked at Chihiro. "Could've been your wife for a night."
Chihiro blushed, but he laughed as well. "I guess I'd be married longer than Victor then, yeah?"
Aoi and Sakura looked at Chihiro in shock, and Chihiro shrunk in on himself.
"U-uh, did I say something wrong?" Chihiro asked.
"No, that was just... dark," Aoi said bluntly.
Chihiro began to sweat again, but he managed to smile. "Uh... well, 'tis the season, yeah? Happy Halloween?"
The awkward silence that followed forced Chihiro to switch gears. "You know what? I'm hungry. Let's eat something," Chihiro offered.
"Now that's the Halloween spirit," Aoi said in agreement, and the three friends laughed.
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Jabberwock Reverie
for @i-demand-a-hug
Day 5: AU/Crossover
(Alternative: Life/Death)
Summary: Kamukura is approached by an eccentric trainer with a Blissey. That this trainer doesn't like battling is just one element that draws Kamukura's attention. Pokemon Trainer AU taking place on the made-up region named Jabberwock.
Rating: G
Warnings: Vague references to injuries. And then nothing else.
Notes: Friendly friend, I wrote the pkmn trainer au! It’s short and slice-of-life fluff and I hope you like it! Since today’s prompt is also fitting, I’m submitting it to the week, too. Blissey is cute. Very, very cute. Komaeda’s full nickname for her is Blissey’s French name but shortened. His shortened nickname is...an obvious reference.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
“Hey...can you hear me?”
“Uuu... Uu...”
“Euphy, don’t hover. He might end up feeling suffocated.”
Immediately, crimson red eyes flickered open. The other trainer jumped along with his Blissey.
“Aah!” he gasped. And then, he caught his breath as Kamukura sat up. “So, you were just lying there of your own volition...? You really shouldn’t just lay out in the open like that. It’s rather dangerous. Do you at least have your Pokémon with you?”
“No,” he said. “I do not need them. I can handle myself.”
“E... Ehhh...?” Bored with the matter, Kamukura stands and dusts himself off. He turns to be on his way to nowhere in particular, but the other trainer is calling out for him. “Wait, wait...! Are you him, then?! The incredible Kamukura Izuru?!”
That Blissey slid in front of him, blocking his way. Even with his icy glare, she didn’t move. Kamukura blinked a few times, and the trainer caught up to him, albeit short of breath.
“I-I, um... I’m a huge fan!” he exclaimed. “Anyone who can lead any Pokémon like that...! They must be something else! I’ve heard all sorts of things!”
“Most of them silly rumors, I assume,” Kamukura replied coolly. “But if it is a battle you wish for, I have no interest. As I said, I have no Pokémon with me. And I have no interest in going and rallying a group for such a menial request.”
“I’m... No, no...” The other shook his head. “I’m not a battler. Too chaotic. Too messy.”
“Then a demonstration of skill? An autograph?” he asked, almost snappishly. “You and your Blissey are in my way.”
“I didn’t tell Euphorie to do that, but she tends to do as she wants.” The trainer gives his Blissey a look. Blissey was still glaring at Kamukura, however, for his rude attitude, so the trainer can only sigh. “Euphy’s been with me since I was a kid and she was a Happiny. So she feels pretty comfortable doing whatever.”
Kamukura blinks, once, twice.
“...it seems you two are quite close, then.”
“Aha...” The trainer blushes, tugging at his hat. It does little to hide the wild, white curls of his hair. “Hearing that from Kamukura Izuru is something else... But no, I just wanted to get to know you better.”
Kamukura quirks an eyebrow. And the trainer goes on.
“I mean... Anyone who can communicate with all Pokémon the way you can... You must really have a beautiful, wonderful heart,” he murmured, fiddling with his fingers. “Someone like you who can bring out the beauty of Pokémon...who understands them so well... I really, really want to see such things for myself.”
...Huh.
“Your name,” Kamukura said. “What is it?”
“O-Oh right! I never gave you my name!! O-Oh dear...” Flustered, he practically covers his face in his hand, taking in a deep, shaking, shuddering and steadying breath. He meets Kamukura’s gaze, his own eyes shimmering. “Komaeda... Nagito. I’m Komaeda Nagito. I-I’m from Laverre City, Kalos.”
“Kamukura Izuru,” Kamukura said. “Which you already knew.”
Komaeda nodded almost helplessly and waved his hands.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Kamukura-kun.” Despite everything, he manages a bright smile. “I hope we can get along in spite of myself.”
Euphorie chirps happily in agreement.
“...it is nice to meet you,” Kamukura echoed and then nodded towards the bouncing Blissey. “Now if you do not mind... I am rather hungry.”
“O-Oh, let’s eat then! I do have food we can share, Kamukura-kun!”
“Uu!” Euphorie happily waved an egg in the air, making Komaeda laugh.
“And Euphy has her eggs. You can enjoy one at your leisure. It would make Euphy happy as well.”
“Hm.” A pause. “Very well.”
“Yay, yay!”
“Uu, uu!”
And that was how they met.
--
Kamukura Izuru had never been too terribly interested in people. However, Pokémon were different. Their level of understanding and their intelligence was at a level that humans couldn’t hope to fully understand. And yet, despite that, so many of them wanted to get along with humans regardless save for a few exceptions.
Humans were careless and often cruel. Kamukura knew this well, even without taking his own experiences into account. There were many—far too many humans who were consumed by greed and ego. Humans who pushed their Pokémon to the brink for the sake of weakly-defined ambition.
But even humans who truly loved Pokémon were ones that Kamukura hardly connected with. After all, he cared little for battling, and he cared less so for being a trainer. If he were forced into a battle, he would just recruit Pokémon who would’ve charged after the other trainer anyway.
After all, he was built in with the strategies that would succeed, for any and all circumstances.
Unfortunately, that gave him an annoying reputation. One that only aggravated him further when people began to recognize him.
The Jabberwock Region was meant to be remote, but it seemed that no matter where he turned, a trainer would be waiting in the midst.
...all that said, he didn’t mind Komaeda Nagito.
Komaeda Nagito, for a trainer, was a curious one. As someone from Kalos, he expectably had an eye for beauty and aesthetic. Trainers who did not like to battle were uncommon, but not unheard of, however...
It was clear that Komaeda Nagito was a bit of an eccentric. His partner Pokémon fussed over him more like a parent. He often got into unique predicaments through the means of what could only be dumb luck. He seemed to be interested in anything and everything that Kamukura had to say. Even when it came to strategies that Komaeda had no use for whatsoever.
It was...strange and yet, this person’s presence was not an unpleasant one.
“Dia, look at all these brambles stuck in your fur... How despairing...”
“She is from Alola,” Kamukura observed. Komaeda perked up and nodded.
“Ah, yeah, as a Vulpix, she snuck into my bag and I ended up hiking with her. It took a while before I realized where the extra weight came from. But she really does have a lot of charm, doesn’t she?” Komaeda hums as he combs through one of the silky smoke-colored tails. “She prefers to laze around, that said. As expected, I suppose, of a former deity...”
Kamukura’s gaze flickers to the Ninetales’ relaxed expression, eyes shut and head ducked. Then, beady red eyes opened briefly to meet his own gaze.
“...as expected,” he merely echoed. “She has a unique color as well.”
“Ah... Yeah...”
Komaeda’s shoulders were tense.
“...a lot of my Pokémon have a unique color,” he mumbled. “Only Euphy doesn’t. Because... She was given to me as a Happiny by my parents.”
“I see.”
Curious. Pokémon of a different color tend to be rather elusive.
“A-Ah, oh, Kamukura-kun!” Komaeda gasped. “There’s so many brambles in your hair, too! After I finish with Dia, I can comb them out if you want.”
Kamukura blinks once, twice, and Komaeda frets.
“O-Or not!” he exclaimed. “Goodness, of course you wouldn’t want someone like me touching your hair...”
Komaeda Nagito is...
“Actually, I do not mind.”
...not a bad person to be around.
“A-Ah, oh...” Komaeda’s cheeks darken. One of Dia’s tails plops onto his head, tickling his nose until he sneezed.
Kamukura snorted at the sight.
Surprisingly, I really don’t mind this person’s company.
He wasn’t sure why. More data would have to be gathered.
--
At some point, he wakes up to something burning.
“Oh, no! No, no, no! Dia! Freeze it!”
And now, there was a frozen pot atop the pile of charred lumber that used to be their campfire. Komaeda whined as Dia yawned with disinterest. Already, Euphorie was trying to cajole him with an egg.
“...Komaeda Nagito, what, exactly were you trying to do?” he asked. “If you wanted to cook, you should have asked me.”
Komaeda sniffles as he nibbles reservedly on the egg. He brightens up a little, but it’s not much.
“I wanted to make cupcakes...! Or poffins... Whatever seemed like a better idea at the time, I guess?”
Kamukura blinks at him.
“...I see.”
He guesses.
“But I really am a terrible cook,” Komaeda laments. “And even though I tried to do my best without a recipe... Uuu...”
“Uuu,” Euphorie echoes.
“Uuu,” Kamukura drones. And then he flips his hair back. “It is alright. This is expectable behavior from you at this point. I do not mind it much. The frozen monstrosity has a rather interesting smell. I cannot even tell what ingredients were used. That’s rather impressive.”
“Y-You really think so?” Komaeda asks, hands clasped and eyes sparkling with tears.
Making faces like that...
Kamukura averted his gaze, feeling his cheeks heat oh so slightly.
“It is...quite impressive.”
“Yay!”
He’s...endearing.
It’s strange, thinking that way about someone else—especially a trainer who sought him out at first, but for someone like Komaeda Nagito, it was...just what it was.
Komaeda Nagito, who once again had that forlorn face when staring at the frozen monstrosity that used to be a pot, a campfire, and miscellaneous.
“...what are we supposed to do with this...?”
It was not very often Kamukura Izuru was faced with a situation where he did not know what to do.
“Hmm.”
Interesting.
“...we should run a few experiments. With a factor this indiscernible, the possibilities are indeterminable, thus endless.”
“You really think so?” Komaeda asks. “Nothing too dangerous, right? Oh, not to presume that you’d be reckless, Kamukura-kun! Of course not!” A shudder. Komaeda holds himself. “B-But I can’t deny I’m getting a little excited at the idea of what might happen...!”
“Indeed.”
It was not very often he was the one running tests, after all. Preparations would have to be made first, however, such as...
“Uuu!” Euphorie chirped, and Komaeda immediately turned on his heel.
“Euphy. It might be too dangerous so please return to your ball, okay?”
“Uuu!”
“Euphy, please.”
“Uuu!”
“Euphy...!”
Eventually, they managed.
--
Afterwards, Komaeda was sleeping deeply and heavily and covered in bandages. Kamukura’s own fingers were bandaged as well, and the dull ache still throbbing in his joints and knuckles was still an odd sensation. Unsurprisingly, Euphorie was pressed up protectively against Komaeda, petting his hair as he slumbered and listening intently for anything that might approach them. She was also, occasionally, shooting him quite the dirty look.
A dirty look that he admittedly deserved.
Despite what happened, Komaeda Nagito was laughing it off with an easy smile as always. I suppose, then, that Komaeda Nagito is that kind of person. The kind of person who smiles in the face of misery, and one who has been through enough to become numbed.
He thinks he understands the person called Komaeda Nagito rather well at this point.
...and yet I’m still curious about him. Why?
It looks like he still had information to gather.
...yes... That is all there is to it.
His fingers hurt, but his chest hurt, too. Why? It was not like he was injured there but—
It hurts worse when I look at Komaeda Nagito slumbering so innocently without a care.
Komaeda, who sighed, smiling slightly as Euphorie brushed his hair back.
“...you do that for him often,” Kamukura said quietly. “Would I be accurate to assume it is because of his parents...?”
Euphorie nodded simply at that.
The pain worsened even more. How peculiar. Am I dying?
It really was so curious.
Komaeda murmured something incomprehensible. Before he realized it, he had already reached for him. He only noticed it because Euphorie was giving him a stern, disgruntled look.
“...I do not wish to withdraw,” Kamukura said lowly, not understanding it himself. “But you may smack my hand away if you wish.”
Euphorie’s glare sharpened, but she turned away with a huff, pulling away from Komaeda but still keeping him securely curled up her lap.
Slowly and hesitantly, Kamukura touches his hair.
Fluffy like Euphorie.
He shouldn’t be surprised, and yet, he couldn’t deny the sensation of running his fingers through was quite the pleasant one.
It really is soft.
He remembers Komaeda brushing through his own hair, humming as he did.
“Aha, Kamukura-kun’s hair is like fine silk. Oh, Dia’s fur is still prettier, of course. But Kamukura-kun’s hair is very, very pretty. I really am lucky.”
Lucky, he had said. Luck was such a fickle, boring thing.
“Everyone has the boring element of luck. Even I have luck.”
“Ehe, that’s true. But for me, luck is...mm, different.”
“Different?”
“I don’t want to bore you with talks about myself, Kamukura-kun.”
“Hmm.”
“That was wrong,” he found himself murmuring. “Komaeda Nagito is not boring. I would not have stayed as long as I have if he were.”
Euphorie snorts.
It’s—flustering. Because Komaeda is still sleeping, eyelashes fluttering and lips parting. Komaeda is—
Eye-catching.
“...in all my time wandering around aimlessly, among humans and Pokémon alike, I really haven’t met anyone like him,” Kamukura said. “Especially when it comes to humans. Humans are...predictable. Expectable. Boring. Trainers, especially.”
For a moment, he was quiet, watching Komaeda contemplatively before taking notice of Euphorie’s stare boring into him. With a wide-eyed stare like that, well, it was no wonder she was Komaeda’s Pokémon.
When Komaeda didn’t look at him with awe, it was with this same piercing curiosity.
Kamukura’s eyes fall shut.
“Mmm...” Komaeda shifts as a thumb brushes over the curve of his cheek. “Hnn...”
And then, a sigh.
“Kamu...are you...?”
“Not exactly human?” Kamukura watches blankly as Komaeda’s eyes flew open. “Yes. You’ve suspected that for a while, haven’t you?”
Komaeda flies up, Euphorie quickly taking his shoulders.
“I-I!” He stammers. “I-I was just dreaming...! I...!” Flustered, he tuckers himself out, groaning and rubbing at his temples. “I... So it is true...”
“I am impressed,” Kamukura said. “You did a good job of treating me so normally while suspecting something so abnormal. But you were observing me all along, weren’t you?”
“Not the entire time,” Komaeda mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “But... Even though I heard the rumors, I didn’t really see anything to support them from you... You were pretty comfortable just sitting around and staring at things, Kamukura-kun. Aha, not what I expected at all. So lazy! So unmotivated! So boring! Not at all what you would expect of a genetically modified trainer!”
Kamukura folds his arms against his chest and turns away.
“Human experimentation is still a weird thing to wrap my head around,” Komaeda goes on, laughing without a hint of mirth. “But I suppose it does make sense. No matter how powerful the Pokémon is, it takes a trainer to make use of it in battle. In the hands of an incompetent trainer, Pokémon are as wonderful as they are completely wasted.”
For a moment, under the twinkling stars, the two of them were quiet.
“Battling is how people and Pokémon alike improve, and both parties are important. Strength can only go so far without strategy. Strategy can only go so far without strength. That said, I still don’t want to force my Pokémon through that with how incompetent I am.”
“Is that it?” Kamukura asked dully. “Or are you perhaps afraid of your own potential?”
With Euphorie nuzzling him, Komaeda could only huff.
“I want to find a way that causes the beauty of Pokémon to blossom like a flower,” he said. “Battling on its own, while inspiring its own specific sort of passion and hope—just isn’t what I’m looking for. Back in Kalos, I found myself utterly entranced by performances. So I want to try something more like that. Contests are nice, but I didn’t want to limit myself to just that, so I came to Jabberwock because I hear that here is where Pokémon shine especially bright.”
“The Pokemon and trainers here are stronger,” Kamukura replied. “But other than that, it is no different than any other region.”
“All regions have their individual charms and distinctions!” Komaeda exclaimed. “To just put it like that is really so boring, Kamukura-kun! Didn’t you come here because you wanted to witness more from people and Pokémon alike?”
Kamukura scoffed.
“I came here because it seemed to be more isolated. I thought I would have better chances of being left alone. Battling...is boring, when I am already designed to be a master of strategy and training. There is nothing more I can obtain in this state.”
Komaeda frowned, puffing his cheeks.
“That’s such a boring thought process to have,” he said. “But... It seems to me that you want to get as far from your intended purpose as possible.”
He didn’t say anything in response to that, but his silence was enough of an answer.
“What an unhappy person you must be,” Komaeda added.
Euphorie offered him an egg with a chirp. She whined when he did not take it.
“I am not unhappy,” he said softly yet firmly. “You are wrong. It is not like that.”
Euphorie whined once more.
“I am not unhappy,” he insisted. “I...”
...I have not been...for a while...at least.
“Is that so?” Komaeda asked enigmatically. He smiles. “Well, that makes me happy to hear. But it’s hard to believe, considering you were so aimless that you’ve just been dealing with my antics.”
It is because of those antics that I am not unhappy.
“It’s the truth,” he said instead. “You need not worry about it, Komaeda Nagito.”
“But I’m going to worry anyway, sorry.” Komaeda is beaming. “Because I really like you, for putting up with me, Kamukura-kun. I really, really like you.”
It was dark out, cold out, and yet he felt his face warm.
“...I... I do not dislike you.”
“That really makes me happy to hear!” Komaeda chirped. “I really am so lucky to be told that by someone like you!”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he pointed out. “My feelings are my own regardless of the circumstances that may transpire.”
“Ehehe, I suppose that’s true... Still, I feel pretty lucky...” With that Komaeda lays back down, head in Euphorie’s lap but still beaming up at him with eyes of starlight. “Kamukura-kun, let’s see everything the Jabberwock region has to offer. And if we come across any trainers... Let’s not meet their eyes, okay?”
That will only do so much.
If he is dragged into a battle—he wonders how Komaeda will react. Komaeda, come to think of it, is a bit unpredictable in certain regards. He really is—
“I also want to try cooking again,” Komaeda hums. “Maybe blocks...?”
Something else. He’s something else. Ironic. People would normally say that about myself.
“Your injuries are still healing,” he pointed out. “So, can you wait a few days before that?”
“Ehe. You almost sound like Euphy would.”
Euphorie looked at him pleadingly.
“...if we are going to stick together,” he said. “I might as well look out for you.”
Komaeda blinks at him, and then, ah, he blushes.
“...you don’t have to do that, Kamukura-kun.”
“But I will anyway.”
Komaeda shivers a bit, lips pursing before he turns away.
“You should sleep already. The stars will only be up for so long.”
“I suppose.”
He pulls up the extra sleeping bag that Komaeda owns and makes himself snug. He turns to Komaeda, and by then, he’s already back to fast asleep with Euphorie humming a lullaby of sorts.
Kamukura blinks once, twice, and then turns back to the stars contemplatively.
What the Jabberwock region has to offer... Somehow, I predict that it will pale in comparison to this.
#KamuKoma#izuru kamukura#nagito komaeda#KamuKomaWeek#KamuKomaWeek2018#super dangan ronpa 2#Pokemon#Blissey#alola ninetales#Pokemon GSC#Pokemon SuMo#crossover maybe?#Magi fics#i-demand-a-hug#sdr2 spoilers
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DC/Marvel Crossover
Prompt: How about one where batsis goes on a solo mission and the avengers arrested her because they didn't know who she was and bat fam gets worried because she hasn't been back and Bruce sends Tim to get her
“You’re telling me that you want to break into Avengers Tower and … what? Download all of the information on the Avengers?”
Bruce nods, “That’s exactly what I want you to do. They have too many people on that team that could one day try and take over the world, I need to know how to stop them.”
“And how am I supposed to get into a building that houses a god, two super soldiers now, a Hulk, two assassins, and a genius? That’s not even including their handler, Phil, who I have met and have a deep respect for”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out” Bruce lays a hand over your shoulder before making his way to the Batmobile, “I need those files, Y/N. I’m depending on you for this. Stark would expect me to go after the files, he won’t expect you. There’s a gala in one week that I am invited to, that would be the best time to strike, all of the Avengers are going to be in attendance.”
“Fine, I’ll start planning now”
--
Getting into Avengers Tower is surprisingly easy. There aren’t any assassins, or even that many security guards in the building. It isn’t until you’ve already gotten thought the servers firewall and are halfway finished uploading the Avengers files that you notice something is wrong.
Those files do not belong to you.
You let out a shriek (that you’ll deny later) when a voice starts talking from the ceiling. “What the fuck!?”
You have not been authorized by Sir to access these files.
“Who are you?”
I am JARVIS, I am the artificial intelligence that runs Avengers Tower. I have already scanned you, you are not a SHIELD agent, nor are you an employee of SI.
“And you’re just now confronting me? If you control the whole building why didn’t you stop me sooner?”
I was curious as to your goal
It sounds like the AI is amused, of course Stark would make an AI with an attitude. “And now that you know what I’m doing, what are you going to do?”
I have intercepted the file uploads and blocked them. I have also shut down the room you are currently in, have locked it, and informed Sir of your presence.
“Of fucking course you did”
You will not have to wait long, miss. The Avengers are on their way now.
--
Natasha Romanoff is the first one to reach you, and when she starts to tie your hands behind your back you don’t even try and stop her. You might be a vigilante in Gotham, but unlike your brothers and father, you know when you’re outmatched. So instead of further injuring yourself, you quietly submit to being tied up and gagged.
“JARVIS, who is she?”
I am currently running a facial recognition scan now, Agent Romanoff
“Good, I’m going to take her to Interrogation Room 3. Tell the others to meet us there”
Of course.
Natasha marches you down several flights of stairs, and through a steel door to an interrogation room.
“I’m going to take off the gag now, and you’re going to answer my questions. Understand?” The gag is quickly pulled off. “Now who are you?”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Romanoff. I’ve always looked up to you, you know? I mean you survived the Red Room, the Soviets, even the Winter Soldier. And what happened in Budapest! You and Mr. Barton were amazing there! I didn’t think you guys were gonna come out alive …”
A knife presses against your throat, leaving a shallow cut, “How do you know about any of that? Who sent you here? Who the hell are you?”
The door slams open, “Agent Romanoff! Put that away, and untie her”
“Sir …?”
“Now, Agent Romanoff”
The knife quickly pulls away from your throat, a thin trickle of blood left in its place, but you don’t pay much attention to it. Instead you twist around and throw a grin at the older man, “Hey, Phil, it’s been a while”
“Ms. Wayne, I can’t say that I am glad to see you. According to the report JARVIS gave me, you were attempting to upload the personal files for all of the Avengers. I assume that your father was the one to send you?”
“Yeah, Dad said something about needing to have a plan for if anyone here went evil, he wants to know how to kill them. You know my father likes his plans”
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to get you out of this mess. The transgression did not happen on SHIELD soil. The Avengers will decide what they want to do with you”
“So … I get to meet everyone?”
Phil lets out a chuckle, “Yes, you will be able to meet the rest of the Avengers, however these aren’t the best circumstances to meet them under.”
“You really think dad would let me meet them any other way? This is probably the only time I’m gonna get to meet the Winter Soldier”
“The other Avengers won’t be happy with what you did. It was a complete violation of their privacy. Even if I put in a good word for you, I don’t know if they will listen to me”
“It’s fine. Even if they decide to torture me, I’ll be alright. I mean I’ve probably had worse from the Joker and from the al Ghul’s.”
Before Phil can answer, the door once again opens and Tony Stark steps through, “You can hold off on that facial recognition scan, JARVIS. I know who this is”
“Hello, Tony!”
“Hello, Y/N” He spins the chair around and plops down on it, straddling the back of it, “I can’t say I’m happy to see you though”
“I know, I hate that I had to do this, but you know my father, he’s not someone you say no to”
“Natasha, will you untie her?”
“Not until you tell me who she is, and what we are going to do with her” Natasha crosses her arms, knife still help tightly in one hand. “All I’ve gathered is that both you and Phil know who she is, and that she was attempting to steal our personal files.”
“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Y/N Wayne.”
Phil sighs quietly, “She is also known as the Sparrow, the one who managed to get Red Hood to stop unnecessarily killing, she is also SHIELDs contact in Gotham, and she is the liaison between SHIELD and the JLA”
“How have I never met her then?”
“It was considered a conflict of interest for me to meet the Avengers because I am already in the JLA. Of course, my father doesn’t give a damn that I’ve possibly just ruined the relationship between SHIELD and the JLA, all he cares about is being able to stop you if any of you decide to go homicidal.”
“He thinks that he’ll be able to stop any of us?”
You shrug as much as you can with your arms still bound, “No idea, I don’t try to understand his way of thinking. Phil,” You tilt back, trying to make eye contact with the agent, “You know he’s going to send one of my brothers after me. I don’t want them hurt”
“I’ll warn everyone, don’t worry. Now, Natasha, if you’ll untie Y/N and bring her to the common room. We can await the arrival of one of Y/N’s brothers there. In the meantime, you all can ask her any questions you’d like”
--
“So you’re telling me that Bruce Wayne is Batman, one of your brothers has come back from the dead, you aren’t allowed to kill any of the villains that have taken hundreds of lives, and that you were once a part of the League of Assassins. Am I missing anything?”
“Yeah, I once stopped Superman and Superboy when they were mind controlled, and I work as Lex Luthor’s assistant and help him curb his homicidal tendencies … I’ve also time travelled before”
Steve Rogers puts his head in his hands, “Of course you have. Is there anything else?”
“Nope” You glance around the common room, locking eyes with Bruce Banner, “Can you turn into the Hulk? I’d really like to see him again.”
“Again?”
“I met him once, about a year after you left America, he saved my life. I had just blown up one of the League of Assassins compounds and didn’t get out in time, I was trapped under rubble. I had accepted the fact that I was going to die there when a huge green hand smashed through the rubble and dragged me out. Hulk left before I could even say thank you”
“I don’t remember that”
You flash a brief smile, “I’m not surprised, I did some research on you after that. You don’t remember 85% of what happens when you’re the Hulk, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct, how did you …?”
“I have a lot of connections, Dr. Banner. Who do you think was the one that got General Ross to leave you alone once you came back to America?”
Bruce’s eyes go wide, “You … you … how?”
“I have some friends in high places that owed me a favor or two, they cracked down hard on Ross, forced him to stop hunting you. SHIELD tried to get him to stop, but even though they’re a top secret government organization they didn’t have enough leverage to get thing’s done”
It takes Bruce a minute or two to speak after that, “Thank you, that means a lot that you’d do something like that”
“He saved my life, it’s the least I could do”
--
“So, Phil, how do you know Y/N?” Clint drops down from the vent opening, perching on the arm of the couch.
“Phil and I met while he was in Tahiti, after the Chitauri invasion.”
“Why were you in Tahiti?”
“I was captured by the al Ghul’s and tortured for 4 months. By the time my family found me I was almost dead. SHILED sent me there to heal, like they did with Phil. We’ve run into each other a few times after that, but that was where we met”
Phil rolls his eyes, “Y/N refused to stay in her hospital room and constantly snuck into mine while we healed. I wasn’t allowed out of bed for several weeks, and every day Y/N would limp into my room to keep me company”
“Phil’s someone I consider a good friend now”
Clint sticks his bottom lip out, pouting at his handler, “How come I never heard of her? We could have been BirdBros!”
“I’ve been begging Phil for years to let me meet you guys, but he kept saying that it was a ‘conflict of interest’ but I just think that he didn’t want to deal with the paperwork”
Phil raised one eyebrow, “Unfortunately it seems that I wasn’t able to keep you two apart, and now I dread the mayhem that you will cause.”
“Mayhem will have to wait until after my brother’s inevitable rescue attempt”
--
Surprisingly it’s Tim that was sent to rescue you. The Avengers had put you back into the interrogation room, and were all watching from the control room.
“Hey, Red. I thought you were off with the Titans this week.”
“B called me in, said that you needed to be rescued, and some files needed to be retrieved”
“I’m sorry, babybird, but we won’t be getting those files today”
Tim smirks, “They don’t even know I’m here …”
The speaker crackles to life, “Unfortunately, kid, we do know you’re here and your sister’s right, you won’t be getting access to those files tonight”
“Sorry, Red, they kinda set up a trap to catch all of us birds. They knew that someone would come for me, and now someone will come for the both of us.”
Tim sighs, “Do we have to stay in this room the whole time?”
The door opens and Tony steps in, “Of course you won’t. It’s team bonding night, so movies and snacks. I’ll even let you call your other brothers so they can get in on the action.”
“We’re going to have a sleepover with the Avengers?”
You chuckle, “It looks like it, babybird, it looks like it”
#dc/marvel crossover#crossover#Batsis#batsis imagine#batboys#batfamily#batfam imagine#marvel imagine#bruce wayne#Bruce Wayne's Daughter#bruce wayne imagine#phil coulson#phil coulson imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#tony stark#tony stark imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#clint barton#clint barton imagine#Tim Drake#tim drake imagine#avengers imagine#BatFam
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Help Hotline
Title: Help Hotline
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2,496
Warnings: Fluff
Summary: How do you deal with life as a hunter. Dean drinks. Sam goes for runs. You? Well let’s just say that you have a friend you talk to every time.
A/N: This is my submission for Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. Thank you @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog for giving me this awesome prompt. My prompt was: “if i’m too good for him, then how come I’m not with him?” from Clueless. I hope y’all enjoy this one! Feedback would be very appreciated!
x
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“Alright, beers are on Sammy tonight,” Dean cheered as he pulled into the empty parking space in front of the expensive looking bar. You smirked to yourself in the backseat, knowing Dean picked this bar for a reason and that reason being Sam.
“How long are you going to play this one out, Dean?” Sam questioned. You could hear the pang of annoyance in his voice.
“Until you make up for breaking my friggin’ stereo by jamming your crappy ass Bieber cassette in it,” Dean stated as he kicked the door open. You followed behind the two taller men, Dean glancing back at you just once, making sure you were there with them. You’d never stray too far from them, not at a bar like this.
Dean held the door open for both you and Sam, the loud music escaping out the bar doors along with the screams of the drunk crowd inside. Dean shot you a wink before slinging his arm around your shoulder, heading into the bar right next to you.
Between the people dancing and the stools at the counter, it was a busy bar, almost too busy for your liking. You were going to deal. It was a tough hunt and the three of you needed to let loose. A couple of beers was going to do the trick, before you could head back to the motel and calm down the way you usually did. The boys would unwind, maybe find a woman to take home for the night, then you’d be back on the road. Another day, another case and hopefully another couple of lives saved.
“What’s your poison tonight, sweetheart?” Dean leaned down to ask you. The bar was too loud to hear him, or anyone you wanted to have a conversation with for that matter.
“I’m just going to stick with beer tonight,” you shrugged with a smile. Dean nodded his head, leaving your side to head over to the counter to grab you a drink along with his own. You glanced around the bar, looking for a place to sit that would be a little more secluded, hoping that you could carry on a conversation without saying ‘what? I can’t hear you,’ every five seconds.
It had taken Sam five minutes to find a beautiful blonde to flirt with. It had been a while since Sam last got lucky according to what he told you. It had been longer for you the more you thought about it, which wasn’t often. You had your eyes on one man and one man only. There was no point in any one night stand when all you were going to do is wish it was him.
“One beer for the beautiful lady,” Dean grinned, handing you a bottle of your favourite beer, the same in his hand. “Sammy looks like he’s got his night planned out.”
“Yes he does. Maybe now he won’t be so uptight about everything,” you let out a laugh. Dean chuckled, agreeing with you before taking one long swing of his beer, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“You planning on seeking out any male attention tonight?” he asked plainly. You simply shook your head.
“Not really feeling it tonight. I’m going to drink this beer, then head back to the motel room and take a nice long shower,” you licked your lips. “‘Sides, I ain’t wasting my time on the rich, married men in here. Why be disappointed when I could just do it myself.”
“Mhh, I’d pay to see that,” he winked.
“Why don’t you go out and get some? The motel is like a ten minute walk and I’m a big girl,” you told him. In reality, you didn’t want him to go home with anyone, anyone that wasn’t you anyways.
You had the biggest crush on the older Winchester. The mere mention of his name sent your heart reeling in your chest. Sure, he was attractive, and the way his tongue peeked past his lips when he wet them made you weak in the knees. But Dean Winchester was more than a pretty face. You were in love with the little things about him and you knew more than the average person. Dean was the kind of guy that had a cup of coffee waiting for you when you woke up in the morning. He was the guy who left his shirt on your bed for you to wear when you forgot to do laundry before a hunt. Dean deserved to be loved wholly by someone and you wanted that someone to be you.
You and Dean were best friends though and as much as you wanted to kiss those downright sinful lips for hours, you didn’t want to be selfish and ruin the four year friendship the two of you had formed. You valued that too much to ruin it.
“I know you’re a big girl. You could kick my ass any time,” he chuckled. “Maybe I will scope around, see if there’s anyone worth a piece of this.”
“You’re such a dork, you know that?” you giggled. “Have fun. I’ll be in my motel room.”
“Call me if you need anything,” he added in. You rolled your eyes of course. There is no way you were going to call him and ruin his night.
“Yeah yeah! Wrap it before you tap it, Winchester. See you in the morning.”
You walked along the side of the road, the fall breeze whipping through you. You pulled your jacket tighter to your body as your speed picked up. You were mentally kicking yourself for not stealing the keys to the impala, or asking Dean for a ride. But you were determined not to ruin his night. He did so much for you already. You didn’t want to add yet another thing to the list.
The second you were in the safety of your motel room, you locked the doors and relaxed. The warmth of the indoors was a delight. Feeling alone was even better. You were free to relax after the hunt in your own way and you had your own special way that no one knew about.
After you joined the Winchester’s, the three of you had a really bad case where an entire bus of kindergarten children crashed, not one of them surviving because of the damn spirit that the bus was keeping here. It was one you weren’t going to get over.
So you called a help hotline in hopes that maybe talking about what happening in a vague sort of way would help you deal with it in a healthier manner. Instead of drinking until your liver no longer functioned, instead of trying to deal the way the boys did, you did this and it seemed to help you. You talked to the same person every single time. Matt was his name and he was the one there for you every time you needed to talk to someone. Of course, you didn’t tell him about what goes bump in the night. To him you were an FBI agent who dealt with special cases.
Matt was the exact person you wanted to talk to.
You stripped off your jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair before hopping on the motel bed with your phone in hand. You dialed the hotline number and asked directly for Matt. A few seconds being on hold, you heard his familiar voice on the other end of the line. A voice you welcomed.
“Hi Matt, it’s Y/N,” you greeted him.
“Hey Y/N. I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks, how’s everything going?” he asked. You could almost hear the smile growing on his face as he spoke.
“Busy. Been working a lot of cases these past few weeks. Nothing too exciting really. A couple of weird murders but not enough to completely scar me for life before you ask. I feel like I’ve been doing better,” you told him. You were proud to say that to him.
“That’s great to hear, Y/N. You’re a fighter, that’s for sure. You’ve been using those breathing techniques I taught you last time right?” He brought up.
“Yeah, the other day actually. My partner helped me out with it. It was surprising actually. He’s not exactly the cuddly bear type, but it was nice to have something to calm me down to. His heartbeat certainly helped. Thanks for that Matt,” you beamed as you flipped over, resting on your back to stare up at the ceiling.
“Awesome,” he chuckled. For a moment, Matt sounded oddly like Dean. Of course, there was no way Matt would ever be Dean. He couldn’t be. It didn’t make any sense. “So since everything has been going well with you it seems, what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I actually need your advice on something. You’re the only one I can trust to talk to,” you started.
“What about your partner you mentioned earlier?”
“It’s about him. I can’t exactly talk to him about it without making a complete fool of myself,” you scoffed. “See my partner and I are best friends and we have been for years, Matt. And over time, I guess I’ve sort of, kind of, fallen in love with him. Now, that there could ruin my friendship with him for one. But I’m so certain that he doesn’t feel the same about me.”
“How can you know for sure?”
“He’s at a bar right now, hitting on the first girl to give him any kind of attention. Now granted, I told him he should have a fun night, but in my head I’m begging him to see me, to take me home with him. But I just feel like I’m not good enough for him. Like I’m not thin enough, not pretty enough. I’m not his type,” you huffed.
“Oh sweetheart, you are too good for him by the sounds of it,” he told you, kindly.
“If I’m too good for him, then how come I’m not with him?”
“Have you ever actually tried to make a move on him? I mean, I’m a guy so what do I know really? But maybe he’s just slow, or just as scared as you are. Maybe he hasn’t clued in to what’s in front of him? You’re a confident girl from what I can tell by our conversations. Tell him how you feel and you might be surprised.”
“Thanks, Matt,” you smiled softly. You rolled off the bed with the phone still pressed to your ear. Skipping out on your jacket, you made your way out of your motel room with both your room key, and the Winchester’s in hand as you headed straight for theirs. “I’m going to do it. No more waiting and pining. He’s going to know exactly how I feel.”
“Atta girl! Just remember, if he rejects you then it’s his loss. You deserve a good man,” he stated as if it was a fact. You slipped the card key in the lock, successfully opening the motel room door. You stepped in to find Dean sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Thanks. Listen I gotta go. I’m sure we’ll talk soon, I owe you one, Matt,” you said. You waited for him to answer you but he never did. Dean stopped speaking on the phone. “Dean?”
“Y/N, I can explain-”
“You’re Matt?” You whispered. “You’ve been Matt this whole time?”
“Y/N, I swear, I had no idea it was you at first and by the time I figured it out, it was too late. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry into your head or anything and I swear-”
You waltzed over to him and straddled his lap with confidence. Dean was taken back for sure, his pupils dilated and his hands rested behind him so he wasn’t touching you and making you uncomfortable.
“Stop talking for just a second!”
“Shutting up.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Dean? Surprisingly right now, I’m not mad. I don’t know how I’m not mad but I’m not. I just wish you would have told me,” you frowned.
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I mean, we’ve talked about a lot of your personal thoughts and I thought the second you knew that I knew about them that you’d bolt and you’d leave us and I didn’t want that. Sam doesn’t know about this, I promise. And I’ve never used anything you’ve told me against you or to my advantage. Sure, maybe I’ve been a little nicer to you and I have a soft spot for you, I’ll admit that but I promise you, what we talk about stays between us.”
“Good,” you beamed, “Look, I’m just going to come right out and say that I came here, not to find out that you’re Matt, but to tell you that you’re the guy I was talking about. I like you, Dean. And it’s cool if you don’t feel the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because our friendship is the best thing I have right now, and I don’t want that to end on account of how I feel, and I know that you don’t exactly do the whole one girl type thing which I’m now just thinking about and this is such a stupid idea.”
You ducked your head down, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You really didn’t think this one through. You were proud of yourself for finally making a move but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared.
Dean’s fingers dipped under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His breathtaking green eyes were soft, crinkling at the sides. He had a playful smile playing across his lips before he leaned in closer. His breath mingling with yours. Was this really happening? Was Dean really this close to your face voluntarily? The second he inched closer, brushing his lips gingerly against yours; your heart fluttered in your chest. His soft, plump, pink lips were pressed against yours and not in the ‘I want to fuck you into the mattress in about five minutes’ kind of way. His lips parted, deepening the kiss a little more and you were reciprocating. It only lasted a moment or two but it was enough to take your breath away.
“I was worried it was Sam,” he muttered. “I never thought a girl like you would go for a guy like me. Now Sam, he’s smart and he’s got a lot more going for him.”
“So do you, Dean,” you beamed. “Sam’s great and all, and I love Sam as a brother. You? You’re so much different.”
“Oh really?” he winked. “I’m glad it’s me. Even if you are too good for me, at least now I know you’ll be treated the way you deserve to be treated.”
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Dean Girls:
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