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astranite · 2 months

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CH2 of Where was he? Pancakes.

Behold, a second chapter!! Thanks for everyones lovely comments and encouragement! I did not quite mean to stay up until midnight finishing this, but ADHD and I'm excited about this!! Enjoy!!!

@idontknowreallywhy yes im going to sleep now.

@edutainer2022 The rest of this, as you've already seen the first little bit!

Tumblr part 1 :)

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Instead of pulling away from his brothers and getting to work like drill sergeant at the back of his mind nagged that he should be doing, Scott sunk into the group hug. Just a while longer. He needed this.

"What do I do now? I don’t know what to do now," he asked, or rather mumbled into John's t-shirt where he'd smushed his face.

There. He'd admitted it even to himself. And his brothers.

His voice was small where he'd meant it to come out as a demand or at least a question, not a pitiful cry for help.

Gordon gripped him tighter and so did Alan, and Scott was already leaning into Virgil's enveloping embrace at his side and John's fingers were still in his hair.

He didn't actually know what to do with the mess he'd made of the kitchen or the unfinished pancake batter. The useless bowl of ingredients couldn't even be put back in their respective packets because he'd mixed them together because he hadn't thought further ahead than throwing them in. They were wasted.

The idea of sifting apart flour and sugar and the baking powder that was possibly in there until it was like nothing had ever happened buzzed in his brain. Every solution he could come up with to undo it all was summarily discarded as they were impractical, impossible or simply ridiculous. Life didn't work like that. You didn’t get a do over on your mistakes, and even if anyone could it certainly wouldn’t be him getting the chance.

But he didn't want to give up. What Scott wanted was to eat pancakes with his brothers, to get to laugh together without the pressing weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Alright, at this point he would definitely prefer to jump out of One without a jetpack than face the kitchen, or y'know go cry in the shower. He had such great coping mechanisms.

Just it was easier to think in the middle of a crisis. The present moment swallowed up all the mistakes of the past as the only thing that mattered in the universe was the next several seconds in the now. Doubt didn't have time to eat him alive; there wasn't time for vegetables to go mouldy in the bottom of the fridge.

Maybe he'd dissolve into a puddle of suspicious goop too. Ugh, then someone would have to scrub the floor, which he'd be responsible for doing given it would be his fault if he liquified into hypothetical ooze.

Gordon interrupted his thoughts, sing-songing out his name, "Scott, Scotty, Scooter, what can we do to help?"

If he knew how they could help, that'd solve a lot of problems.

Scott shrugged. Caring too much left him in the same place on the outside as caring too little.

His brain steamrollered over Gordon's clarification of whether Scott wanted suggestions for what they could do.

The batter needed to be finished except that needed the eggs and other whatever it was that they didn't have, the fridge stuff needed to be dealt with by putting it in a place that wasn't the fridge, but those containers would have to be cleaned—

When A plus B equals C, you've still got to work out what bloody A is to find C.

"None of you deserve to have to clean up my messes," Scott burst out, "I should be able to do this on my own if I can just get my act together."

I don't need help. I've totally got this, I'm fine. I'm so completely fine, not that any of you would believe me if I said that. Not that he was doing a particularly good job of lying to himself right now either.

He was barely managing not to yell.

His mind ran at lightning speed even as he knew he was missing out on the looks the others were throwing each other over his head.

He kept going, "I'd been meaning to do this for you guys, you know, as a nice breakfast we could enjoy on our day off..." Scott's voice jammed in his throat.

His brothers were here supporting him, but he still couldn't fix any of these problems because he was the cause of them.

"Scott." Virgil was as always his rock, there for him when Scott couldn't figure out which was was up. "You. Are. Allowed. To. Ask. For. And. Accept. Our. Help."

With how awful he was at remembering that no matter how many times everyone told him, he should let them permanent marker it onto his forehead and be done with it.

"We all need help with stuff. It doesn't make you incapable," Gordon said.

Scott never begrudged fetching Gordon heat packs when his back was bad so he didn't have to get up or rubbing at the sore muscles after missions or assisting with the physio exercises Gordon still had to do.

Alan butted in, “I mean I don’t like chores, ‘cause who does, but Scott, that’s totally unfair if you have to do everything!”

"Sprout, it's alright, I don't do everything," Scott reassured automatically.

Alan gave him a look of utter teenage incredulity. "Yeah, but you try to."

John’s arms tightened around him as he rested his chin on Scott’s head and said simply, "We help each other, on missions and at home. That’s who we are.”

Scott could hear the smile in John’s voice as added, “So, how about breakfast?”

He took a deep breath, filling up his lungs before letting it out, allowing his brothers’ presences steady him. “Breakfast.”

"They're Scott-special pancakes but that doesn't mean we can't all help," Gordon ruled firmly.

"We'd all rather that than you having to do it all on your own." John hesitated then added, "Scott, you remember when we used to cook with Mum and Dad? Sunday mornings, all of us crammed in the kitchen in our pyjamas, covered in flour, everyone helping out?"

Of course he remembered. It had hurt too much to think about for years and the ache of loss was still there, but now he had a chance to make new memories with his brothers right beside him. His small smile matched John's.

"It makes them more special, not less," Virgil said, "Because we get to spend the time together."

"Yeah Scotty, we want to hang out with you," Alan finished, and that was that.

The group hug transformed into a mission planning huddle, though John and Gordon remained propping Scott up on either side.

Gordon was bouncing on his toes in anticipation, the fins on his clownfish towel flapping. "Okay. Where were we? Oh yeah, suggestions for us helping if you want us to give suggestions, because I don't want to stomp on what you're doing and take away your control over it 'cause that's really not actually helpful. But I do know how hard the 'thinking up what people should be doing' is when your brain is—" Gordon waved a hand about to complete the sentence. "So, yup."

Scott pressed his shoulder to Gordon's in silent appreciation of his thoughtfulness in the face of Scott's overwhelm. That's what he was, overwhelmed.

"Having some ideas would help. Please."

"We'll clean up the kitchen together. We've all had a part in leaving stuff in the fridge too long," Virgil said calmly, like there wasn't any shame in it. Scott filed that away in the back of his mind for later consideration.

"Alan can take One to Aotearoa and get the eggs and blueberries. He needs the practice flight hours anyway," John put forward.

Alan’s face lit up as he immediately shook off Virgil's arm around his shoulders to jump to the ready. “Can I? Scott. Scott, please? I promise I won’t scratch her, I’ll be as careful as I am with Three, in fact I’ll be carefuller! Wait is that even a word? So can I?”

"Nope. Not quite a word," John chipped in affectionately when Alan had to take a breath.

"Alright, alright." Scott held his hands up. "But you'd better bring her back in one piece or you won't be getting any pancakes," he joked. Mostly. As long as One didn't end up wedged in the swimming pool...

One last moment was spent in the huddle with his brother as Alan darted back for a goodbye hug, no matter how short the flight would be.

Putting their hands out in the centre in a stack, grinning at each other, they yelled in unison, “Tracies are go!!!”

Alan ran towards Scott's launch chute entrance, tossing over his shoulder, "Don't let Gordon eat them all before I get back!"

Gordon's indignant, "Hey!" was lost as the painting swung around, taking Alan with it.

"He does know that we need the eggs to make the pancakes which he is getting, right?" John asked as an aside.

"Eh, he'll work it out." Scott was looking after where Alan had gone wondering when their undeniably littlest brother had grown up so much. That applied regardless of continued brotherly taunting ‘cause wasn’t like he, John or Virgil had ever grown out of it.

Finally, the rest of them returned to the kitchen. Scott steeled himself as he stepped over the imaginary threshold separating it in the open plan design from the lounge.

The containers of spoilt food were sitting out on the bench where he'd left them, condensation dripping from the outsides in the subtropical heat. Unfinished pancake batter loomed from its bowl. Where would he even start? The multiple frying pans he'd need to cook such a big batch with were languishing in the bottom of the sink too.

Gordon set his hands on his hips, in a stand off against the mess. "Okey dokey. Scott, would you rather do dishes, begin emptying out the containers or make coffee so the Virge doesn't keel over? We'll split up the rest between us."

Scott found himself wandering over to the coffee station before he answered. It was the easiest, most straight forward task right now.

He bit his lips guiltily. "Can I?"

Virgil was already standing beside the sink, putting on an apron. He waved a pink rubber washing up glove at Scott in a 'go ahead' gesture, idly chewing on the corner of his flannel shirt collar.

That was about as much as he'd normally get out of Virgil before coffee, excluding missions and brotherly crises as this morning.

Scott inspected the array of coffee types set out in the cupboard next to the overly complicated, super fancy coffee machine Virgil insisted they have. It had more knobs and dials than Thunderbird Two's console he swore and that was already far too many, but Scott couldn't deny it made the best coffee.

None of that mattered though because above the machine was a laminated sheet of paper covered in Virgil's blocky handwriting outlining exactly the steps he had to follow in the order he had to do them, the same as a pre-flight checklist. Scott relaxed. Like a math problem, if he took it bit by bit he'd eventually end up at the right answer.

He'd make a cup for himself too. Not that it would wake him up, thanks ADHD, but he enjoyed the taste and it might do something for his focus.

Virgil's favourite coffee brand came in an electric green package with its name written in an indecipherable font most expected on a death metal album cover. Though at the strength Virgil drank it, it was pretty fitting. Scott had tried a sip once. Only once, as drinking undiluted tar was not his cup of, well, coffee. But Virgil loved the stuff.

Scott made the coffee and got out their biggest mug with the silly, absolutely tiny in proportion Thunderbird Two perched on the handle for his brother.

After passing Virgil his coffee, his brother turned it this way and that then grinned up at Scott. "Did you draw Two in the middle of the froth for me?"

Scott fetched his own coffee, before standing next to Virgil to squint into his mug. A lighter blob of foam floated in the centre. Those bits on the side could be the stubby wings. Though maybe Virgil was kidding, but he might not be so if he saw the Flying Turtle, the Great Green Bathtub, Thunderblob Two, who was Scott to protest artistic genius?

"Happy accident?" Scott told him as Virgil rolled his eyes and nudged his side.

Gordon stood on tip toe to look too. "It's not green. I mean, I could make it green!"

Virgil hunched protectively over his coffee. Do not get between Gordon and food dye was wisdom learned early.

"I think it looks more like Four," John deadpanned to significant outrage.

Scott cackled as Gordon attempted to mess up John's hair in revenge, both of them laughing at each other.

The coffee was warm going down as he took the moment to lean on Virgil as they both quietly sipped theirs, watching the others' antics.

His own mug had a comic of a Boeing aircraft crashing then bouncing down a runway, captioned 'boing.' Scott had giggled when he saw it in amongst the other mugs in the cupboard as he always did since Gordon and Alan had gifted it to him on his birthday, and decided he needed that today.

He held up for Virgil to inspect, along with John and Gordon glued together in their tackle hug.

Laughing, he read the text out loud, complete with sound effects.

Several hilarious minutes followed of them all repeating the sounds between them, bouncing around, echoing and playing off each other. Scott grinned so hard his cheeks ached. He needed this.

Maybe it was the placebo effect or the time spent freely messing around with his brothers, but with the coffee in him Scott was starting to feel a little better about the world and possibly himself too.

Better enough that he could face approaching the counter of suspicious containers to help Gordon.

Gordon was currently inspecting them with equal parts fascination and repulsion. He poked at the box Scott had found wedged at the very back of the fridge.

"Do you reckon that's last month's meatloaf? Or maybe it was the stew. I think it's got its own ecosystem!"

Nope, nope, nope. It looked like it was about to crawl away. "Do not open that, Gords!"

Virgil and John gathered behind him, peering over his shoulders. Scott could tell without seeing exactly which utterly icked out face John made.

Come on, Scotty, he told himself, you've dealt with grosser things on rescues. And in raising very little brothers; he certainly did not miss some stuff.

"We can sacrifice one container, right?" he said. Right? You had to know when to call it in the hopeless cases.

Unanimous noises of agreement were rapidly made. The container was summarily carried over to the bin with caution equivalent of handling radioactive waste. Scott wouldn't be surprised if it set off a geiger counter.

The punnet of blueberries he'd meant for the pancakes joined it. They were well beyond salvage.

Scott tugged a hand through his hair, trying his best not to let the guilty regret swallow him up. The frustration surged, as even though they'd finally cleaned out the fridge and dealt with the stuff, he hadn't been able to prevent the waste happening in the first place.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he and Gordon wiped out the shelves so they could put back all the non-archaeological bottles of lurking sauces that he'd also taken out to get at the other stuff. The patch of mystery sticky substance probably didn't require as much scrubbing force as he was putting into it.

...it wasn't a mystery. It was the strawberry smoothie leftover from a morning Gordon had made too much that Scott had spilt while getting it out midnight to fuel his deadline induced frenzy of report writing. That had been only after he'd realised the reason he felt so shaky and sick was that he'd forgotten to eat all day despite several heavy, exhausting rescues.

After wiping up the last of it, he tossed the cloth into soapy sink with a splash. Immediately he was apologising for startling Virgil as the cloth flew past him as he did the dishes.

There went Scott and another stupidly impulsive action. No one even had to tell him off for the gaping hole to open up in his chest. He stood in middle of the room, feet rooted to the floor, frozen as he resisted the urge to storm off to One's hanger or some other darker, damper crevice to curl up and probably sob about such a dumb mistake, so he wasn't abandoning his brothers.

Gordon's much smaller hand slipped into his own.

"Do you wanna take a break, Scotty?"

Silently, honestly, Scott nodded.

He followed Gordon's lead as he tugged Scott over to the patch of clear floor in the lounge by the full length windows.

Then, because this was Gordon, he just lay down on the ground with an exclamation of, "Floor time!"

Scott got down next to him and flopped onto his back staring upwards. At least attempting to work out where Gordon's offbeat schemes were going was a distraction from his thoughts tearing him apart.

Virgil and John were still working away in the kitchen. The guilt gnawed. Scott screwed his eyes shut then rubbed the heels of his hands over them, hard enough to see spots before he opened them again as he really shouldn’t do that. He wound his fingers through the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

Blue sky stretched above them, framed by the edge of the roof. Beyond the glass, sun shone through the cloudless expanse. Scott let himself relax into the floorboards.

"See, it's all good if you need some time out. We're proud of you, big bro." Gordon edged closer to press their shoulders and sides together.

"Thanks," Scott whispered.

He fixed his gaze back on the sky outside, on the wide, open, beautiful sky.

"How did you know this would help?"

The fish nudged him. "Sometimes a change in perspective is what you need, getting in the ant's eye view if you will. You're too tall, the air gets thin up there."

"Like you'd get the heights, fish sticks," Scott joked.

Gordon's impression of mock offence, complete with hand clutching at his chest and shocked gasp, was ruined by his giggles.

For a moment he grew serious again, amber eyes taking Scott in. "And like literally it’s also a break so the rest of you can catch up with your brain. I get when there's so much going on up there anything extra tips you overboard."

Slowly, the world felt less like it was about to end as he briefly met Gordon eyes then turned to the blue above.

Scott bumped their heads together. "Thanks, again for everything."

"No problem, I'm always happy to help my bros."

It was impossible to miss the emphasis that this very much included Scott, despite him being the eldest.

Lying on the floor with Gordon in a pool of sunlight streaming in cut through the frantic spiralling he had been nose diving into again.

Scott calculated the windspeed outside from the movement of the small branches at the tops of the pōhutukawa trees he could see upside-down at the corner of his vision. Little bits of leaves and debris, a constant pain to clean up on their heavily vegetated island danced across the concrete patio outside.

"You reckon it's blowing about twenty, twenty-two kays per hour out there, Gords?" he said.

Gordon levered himself up and leant towards him to get a better look over to the ocean. "Yeah, thereabouts. Twelve knots."

They heard Virgil's hum from the kitchen before he chipped in, "Closer to twenty-four or so kays, I'd say."

"Bets all in?" The mirth in John's voice was obvious as he pulled up a holo, though Scott didn't doubt he had his own number in mind. "Our weather system puts Tracy Island local windspeed at twenty-two—"

Scott pumped a fist in the air.

"—Point nine kilometres per hour."

Gordon cheered. "AKA twelve point four knots, boom!"

Scott rolled his eyes and high-fived Gordon in celebration.

With several more breaths of watching the sky, he sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Ready to go, Scooter?"

Scott stood before giving Gordon a hand up from the ground. "Yeah, I am."

Coming back to the kitchen, the first thing Scott did was fall into Virgil's offered hug before he, Virgil Gordon and John gathered in a circle to work out what was next. When John got too wobbly on his feet to keep standing, he hopped up on the counter, sorting through the papers that had been stuck under the fridge magnets as Scott handed them to him. Categorised piles formed from the sticky note and post card debris heap before his eyes.

Alan's holo popped up on the com. "Hey everyone!"

Scott jumped at the sudden noise before grinning at his little brother.

"I swear I was listening but what am I supposed to be getting, again?" Alan said, twisting one of his hoodie strings up before tucking the end into his mouth to chew on.

"It's alright Alan. Get a dozen eggs, actually make that two dozen if we want to have any for breakfast another day. The blueberries, a couple of packets. Bananas, while you're at it. Maybe more maple syrup, I don't know if we're out," Scott listed as he wandered over to the pantry to check. "More cornflakes!" he yelled back.

Scott returned to the kitchen proper to stick his head in the fridge to find out about their milk situation. He turned back to his brothers after determining they were probably two days from running out.

Alan on the holo glanced up from inspecting the bottle of caramel sauce that had materialised in his hand. "Uhh guys, I kinda missed everything after how many eggs?"

Scott winced. He should've noticed Alan was distracted by the overstimulating hell of a supermarket, and that as ADHDer number three he probably wasn't going to remember all the points on Scott's rambling list, hell, Scott didn't ever remember half of them and he was the one who'd just said them. He hadn't thought—

"Scott, I've got it." John waved his phone in the air before resuming tap-tapping out Scott's dictation. "Allie, I'll send you the list once I'm done.

"Awesome, 'kay thanks! Hey, can I get ice cream, it's half off?"

"Get the one with the marshmallows and the little fish!" Gordon exclaimed as he shoved his way into view.

Alan hung up before Scott managed to get a word in edgeways. The fish of Gordon's favourite flavour were made of chocolate, not actual fish as Scott had feared the first time he'd tried it.

Alan would have the written list to refer back to, it was all alright. Scott didn't need to worry. Even if Alan had spent a while wandering the shops as One must've gotten there fast, his littlest brother had been more sensible than Scott had been in the past in calling them up for clarification. Or in the present.

It hadn't been the first time and it definitely wasn't the last, but Scott remembered getting sent out to the local shops to get bread as a teen and how he'd made sure to get everything from John's bagels, to the type of cereal Virgil liked and all the other stuff to go on sandwiches for school lunches, except he'd forgotten the bread and Dad had just sighed disappointedly, going back to his way more important work. Scott had barely managed to put everything away before bursting into tears, hiding in the kitchen by ducking below the cupboard level so no one would see at a glance. Damn, he hoped he was doing better than that with Alan.

"Thanks for the save, John," he murmured, approached to lean against the counter next to John.

Typing one-handedly, John reached out to squeeze Scott's hand with his other.

Instead of throwing himself back into the fray with frustrating emotions ready to boil over like he usually would, or joining in with whatever the fish and the tank were getting up to that involved overly loud whispering near the pantry, Scott boosted himself up to sit on the bench with John, carefully avoiding all the papers. With a quiet question so as not to surprise his brother as he was focusing, Scott ended up leaning his head on John's shoulder for a bit to rest. John leant into him too.

A change of perspective did help. Scott was doing okay. Not perfect, but well enough, no matter how hard that was to admit that when he spent too many nights up worrying about all the things he should've somehow done better. As well, some part deep inside him nudged that maybe, possibly he also deserved the kindness he gave everyone else but never himself.

Gordon spotted him taking the moment out and they shared a smile. Gordon being Gordon also gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. See? Scott told himself, Progress.

Shortly, Alan's holo popped up again, back in Thunderbird One.

"Groceries are stowed, enroute to Tracy Island now!" Alan chirped.

"FAB," sounded off from all of them.

Everyone was now listening out for the sound of One. Several stomachs growled.

Soon, soon they'd finally have pancakes.

The minutes passed in suspense. Scott put the organised papers back on the fridge, filed them over at the desk or chucked them in the recycling as John directed.

They discovered the fishtank plan in the form of the opened bag of chocolate bits being squabbled over.

"Can we make some choc chip ones too?" Virgil was practically vibrating with excitement.

Gordon unrepentantly stole a chocolate chip. "What he said," Gordon campaigned, despite Scott knowing that Gordon actually preferred the blueberry and banana pancakes as his top pick.

Finally rockets arrived with a roar, as the pool slid open and One disappeared into it.

Then the elevator dinged and Alan triumphantly stumbled out carrying far too many bags for one person.

"Good work!" Scott cheered, as he and Virgil rushed to help.

"Thanks, Scotty!" Alan lit up. "Also I'm starving."

"Well we'll soon fix that problem!"

Scott took the eggs and cracked them one by one into the bowl of dry ingredients for his pancake batter. Just to show off, he did it one-handedly. The blueberries were washed and he added them in, popping a couple in his mouth too for good measure. Someone needed to taste test, it was tradition, all the way back to the ranch and small hands trying to sneak around Mum before she bopped them playfully with the sticky wooden spoon. The berries were the perfect ripeness, sweet with that tiny edge of tartness cutting through right.

"The baking powder," Scott began, "I don't—I've got no idea if its in there or not."

The pancakes wouldn't rise it he had forgotten, they'd fall flat as unfortunate, failed pancakes. But in reverse, if he had put it in and added more—he'd made that mistake before. The resulting puffy ooze resembled a science experiment more than an edible food.

"I found the box of baking powder open on the bench, if that helps," Virgil gave him.

"Yeah, it was right next to the bowl. Looks like it had just been sat down." Gordon confirmed.

Alan's eyebrows were crumpled into an incredibly serious expression as he contemplated. "I think you probably did put it in, Scotty."

There was no guarantee. But he could take the leap, having faith in his brothers and the best guesses they all had.

"Okay, alright. The batter is done then!" he said, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster.

Virgil shooed Alan out to set the table , following with plates so there wouldn't so many cooks in the kitchen with the potential to bump the hot stove.

Gordon set the several pans to heat, guarding over them as he added butter, melting and bubbling.

Scott lingered, beating the last lumps out of the mix with the whisk. He bumped John's dangling legs out of the way of the drawers so he could dig out a ladle.

"Worse case scenario, we will make another batch. We have enough ingredients," John said quietly, just to him as the others danced about preparing things to eat the pancakes with, Gordon pretending he wasn't listening to them also.

Scott could always trust John to think through all the possibilities on missions, even, especially the hard ones. It was more reassuring to know that they had a plan if stuff all went to hell, than pretend it simply wouldn't. Biting experience had taught him better than that.

This though was just making pancakes for his brothers, not saving the world from high stakes catastrophe. His brothers, who no matter how badly he messed up would always love him.

Scott ladled batter out into the pans, flipping the pancakes over once they grew bubbly and cooked at the edges.

Even when the first one fell apart and turned out rather burnt on one side as he attempted to salvage it after flipping too soon, they all tore it to pieces and ate it anyway as a snack before the proper ones.

The next turned out golden brown, speckled with the blueberries.

Scott grinned happily, joy bubbling up inside his chest.

He made sure to make some blueberry and choc chip ones, and blueberry and banana ones, separating out the mixture. Then some all of the above ones too for good measure.

Virgil and Alan were singing along to a boppy pop song Scott would probably find stuck in his head later. Gordon twirled around the kitchen, dancing along with his wonderfully ridiculous clownfish towel swirling. John kept him company, nodding his head with the beat before he joined in the singing, swinging his legs slightly out of time, carefree. Scott flipped the pancakes, tossing them recklessly high in the air, waving the spatula and moving his whole body with the music, wiggling his hips and bouncing on his toes in excitement.

Scott ate pancakes with his brothers, closer to noon than to breakfast time but everyone swore this lot were the best they'd had. They laughed together and the weight of the world pressing on Scott's shoulders didn't feel so heavy.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #astrawrite #adhd scott tracy #neurodivergent tracies

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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years

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just this once pt.5

a/n: yall. yall im on a roll. and no i will not apologise for anything that happens in this chapter. also, still learning how to do taglists so if it doesn’t work or you weren’t included, send me a message and i’ll try to get it fixed!

Word Count: 4,285

Warnings: canon typical violence, non-explicit mentions of torture, mutant experimentation

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

“I think Fury is giving you a sign.”

Natasha looked up from her paperwork to see Maria leaning against the door frame to her office. She herself had just gotten back from a mission, evident in her slightly mused ponytail and gun still on her hip. A very beyond attractive look, if Natasha had to say it.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked, leaning back in her chair to give her full attention to her fiancee.

“So he didn’t tell you,” Maria said with a nod. She pushed herself off the door frame and moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“I’ll admit that gives me a clue,” Natasha said with a small frown. She didn’t like where this was going.

“He’s sending you on another mission,” Maria replied. “With Y/N.”

“I thought we told him emergencies only,” Natasha mused more to herself than to Maria.

It seemed like Nick was sending the both of you on every mission he could possibly come up with. He needed some information. Then he wanted the layout of a base. Then he wanted some recon on security in another location. All were things that Natasha not only could have done with someone else, but she could have gotten them done on her own.

He seemed to think differently.

“He wants you to leave tomorrow,” Maria continued, bringing Natasha out of her pouting. “Personnel recovery.”

“At least that gives us a few hours together,” Natasha said with a small smile.

“Maybe we can finally get some planning done,” Maria nodded as she stood up. “Maybe a colour scheme?”

“Red and black,” Natasha shot back.

“We’ll argue about it later,” Maria smiled. She walked over and tilted Natasha’s chin up to give her a quick kiss before leaving the office, presumably to get cleaned up.

Natasha looked down at her paperwork for not even five minutes before deciding she was going to rush upstairs and surprise Maria in the shower. She had just started piling the papers up when you walked in, harpoon on hip and soaking wet.

“Did you ask Fury for another mission?” You asked as you plopped into the chair opposite her, water instantly dripping down the sides of the seat.

“No,” Natasha said curtly, hoping she could get you out of her office sooner if she didn’t invite conversation.

“Then why is he sending us together?” You asked. Your fingers started combing through your hair, the webs gathering whatever was stuck. Drops of water splashed onto Natasha’s pristine papers.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said again, turning her lip up when you put a piece of seaweed on her desk.

“I thought you knew everything,” you huffed, staring intently as a shell you had pulled out of your suit sleeve.

“Well clearly not,” Natasha mumbled to herself.

You leaned over to rest your elbows on the desk, your dripping wet hair leaving puddles on the mahogany and her papers. Natasha set her jaw and gave you a look, keeping eye contact. But your eyes gave off that mischievous sparkle, the one that would make any woman swoon. And Natasha’s heart raced.

“Think I can get that in writing?” You asked with a raised brow. “You know, for the next time you act like a know-it-all.”

“Did you just come in here to act like an ass?” Natasha asked as she picked her papers up and started walking out.

“Actually,” you started as you pushed away from the desk and stood up, “I’m here to bring you this.”

You held your open hand out, palm up, and Natasha looked cautiously to see what it was. In the middle of your palm was a whole shell, with a small black pearl in the centre. It looked absolutely stunning, and Natasha reached out to gently take it.

“Why did you bring this to me?” Natasha asked, although she feared she already knew your answer.

“Cheeseburger found the shell the other day,” you shrugged, “and Roger got the pearl out.”

Natasha did her best not to chuckle at the silly names you had given the octopus and otter that usually inhabited your moon pool. Cheeseburger, the octopus, had lost two limbs and had a nasty habit of stealing your cheeseburgers (hence the name), while Roger was an in-progress rehabilitation project. Unfortunately, the three of you were like peas in a pod.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha mused, her eyes still glued to the pearl. “But I can’t take this home to my fiancee.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. The space between the both of you increased as you visibly took a step back, and Natasha missed the closeness. Things had seemed normal only a moment ago, and now she could feel you closing yourself off to her, going cold once again.

“Then give it to Maria,” you shrugged. “Get some brownie points before going off on another mission with her favourite person.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Natasha shot back. “I just don’t want to waste your gift.”

“It was just cluttering up my space,” you replied, voice cold.

“Give it to Yelena,” Natasha said softly, holding the shell and pearl back out for you to take. “She would love it.”

“Yelena,” you huffed with a small smile. A sad smile. You grabbed the shell from her hand rather roughly, causing Natasha to flinch. “Thanks for the input.”

“Y/N,” Natasha started, but you were already walking away in the opposite direction, head high and feet dragging.

Natasha sighed and started her own way back to her floor. She wanted Maria to distract her. From you.

———

“What’s our objective again?” You shouted from the back of the quinjet.

“Personnel recovery,” Yelena answered. “Some scientist wanted out of AIM.”

“Why is that my responsibility?” You continued. Your boots echoed off the floor and you popped your head in between Yelena’s and Natasha’s chairs.

“Because something smelled-”

“Don’t,” Natasha interrupted.

“-fishy,” Yelena finished anyway, and both you and Natasha groaned as she just laughed at herself.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Natasha mumbled to herself before turning her head and looking out the windows.

“I’ll throttle you,” you said as you lightly slapped Yelena upside the head.

“Listen,” she tried to say around another round of giggles, “if Fury ever told me his plans, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you two.”

“Well why don’t you find out? I wanna know why he’s sending me on this mission.”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? Surely you must have some kind of-”

“Can you both shut up?” Natasha shouted. The both of you grew silent immediately, and Natasha finally let out a breath and tried to rub her growing migraine away.

“Should’ve just sent Nat,” you grumbled. “She’s grumpy enough to scare everyone away all on her own.”

Yelena snorted, and when Natasha shot a look her way, she tried her best to look out the window. You, on the other hand, held up to her challenge and met her eyes. That ridiculous smirk refused to disappear, and Natasha wanted so desperately to wipe it off your face. But instead she just turned back around and looked out the window once again.

The rest of the trip was silent, only the occasional update being spoken aloud. Yelena managed to drop the both of you off and stayed in the jet, more than ready for when you both got back and could get back to the Tower for a well-deserved weekend.

It was a quick jog to the location, with tents and cages set up all around the landing port. The building was a few stories tall, but well fortified with guards around every corner. The majority of cages were empty, but every now and then you could hear a bear, a dog, a human.

“I thought these guys were scientists,” you whispered from where you were crouched beside Natasha.

“They are,” Natasha nodded.

“Must be pretty paranoid then,” you continued.

“You would be too if your work relied on illegal mutant experimentation,” Natasha clarified. You didn’t say anything else, but she could see your knuckles going pale.

“Let’s get our man and go,” you practically growled. “Before I kill them all.”

Natasha knew you weren’t joking.

You both went in opposite directions, you heading to the back door and Natasha heading to the side. There was no guaranteeing that the scientist was even inside at all, but that was the easiest place to check. There was too much vulnerability outside and Natasha wasn’t going to risk getting caught and failing another mission.

“How are we supposed to find one nerd in a facility full of nerds?” You asked over the intercoms, and Natasha assumed you had made it into the building.

“Be nice,” Natasha whispered, “not all scientists are nerds.”

“Bruce and Tony are,” you replied. Natasha pulled herself against a wall when she heard voices. “Everyone here is.”

“Hush,” Natasha whispered. You remained silent as Natasha listened to footsteps getting closer, and then turning into the opposite direction. She let out a quiet breath.

“Do we really want to help someone who’s torturing mutants?” You asked again, a barely contained anger in your voice.

Natasha rounded another corner, trying to come up with an answer for you. You weren’t wrong; she didn’t like the idea either. Why save the scientist when you could save the people instead? But Fury wanted him, and there had to be a reason for it. The location was known, so someone could always come back to save them another day.

“Nick will send us back another day,” Natasha finally said out loud. You huffed on the other end of the comms.

You both continued through the facility, methodically clearing rooms until finally you indicated you had found him. Some wiry man with broken glasses, according to your description. Natasha gave confirmation and headed to the meet up point, somewhere on the second floor. Once Natasha was about to round the corner to the location, she could hear your voice carrying through the halls.

“You’re lucky I don’t wring your neck myself.”

“What’s the problem?” Natasha asked as soon as she saw you.

You were right. The man was wiry and nerdy, something you would expect from a mad scientist in a comic book. White tape was wrapped around the nose piece of his glasses in stereotypical fashion and he was hunched over like the world was resting on his shoulders.

No surprise, considering you were hovering nearly a foot over him.

“He called me an animal,” you seethed, your hands visibly shaking with the desire to have them around the man’s neck.

“Look at your arms and neck, what else could you be?” He asked in a gruff New Jersey accent.

“You want an animal? I’ll show you an-”

“That’s enough,” Natasha demanded. She stepped in between the both of you and pushed you away, not even bothering to get near the man.

“If he has to go with us, then so does one of the mutants,” you said, leaving no room for argument in your voice.

“We can’t risk it, we’re leaving them here,” Natasha said quickly. The hair on the back of her neck was starting to stand up and her stomach felt like it was dropping.

“I’m not leaving them and taking that,” you said through clenched teeth while pointing at the scientist.

“You’re going to risk my life for one of them?” He asked, his face drawn in disgust at the mere thought that his life was equal to a mutant’s. Natasha wanted to strangle him.

“We will come back for them another day,” Natasha said again, but you didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not leaving without them, so you’re gonna have to wait,” you shot back.

Voices could be heard in the stairwell a few halls away.

“And I’m not risking another mission,” Natasha argued, walking closer to you and forcing you to step backward to keep your space.

“If you think I’m taking that and leaving one of those kids then you’re-”

Click.

The both of you froze, your eyes boring into Natasha’s. A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, so thick Natasha struggled to draw breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach returned.

And then your eyes left hers, trailing down to the too-tight cuffs that were now keeping you chained to the pipes against the wall. They weren’t the usual police handcuffs, but the kind that they had used on Loki after the invasion of New York.

You weren’t getting out of them.

“Natasha,” you started, your eyes moving back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered. She took one heavy step back, never taking her eyes off of you.

“Unlock them,” you continued. Your chest was starting to rise and fall slightly faster.

“Someone will come for you,” Natasha said again with a slight nod.

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Get back here, Romanoff,” you said as Natasha started leading the scientist down the hall.

Away from you.

She didn’t answer. She just felt her leaden boots take step after step, leading her further away from where you were chained. When she didn’t answer, she heard the sound of metal pulling against metal and your grunts and groans as you tried to yank the cuffs off.

“You can’t leave me here!” You shouted, your voice echoing down the hall after Natasha had turned the final corner.

She heard other voices coming from the same direction as yours, quickly followed by shouting and the solid thuds of blows being landed.

“Natalia!” You shouted again once Natasha had opened the door to lead the scientist out.

Only moments after the door shut, Natasha heard your scream. A scream of anger and frustration, a scream that reached down Natasha’s throat and ripped her heart out. The prick of tears in her eyes left a sinking feeling in her gut, left her feeling empty and a broken shell.

But she had a mission. And she was going to complete it.

She shoved the scientist in the direction of the quinjet and didn’t look back. Ignoring the whining and complaining coming from the man and eventually just throwing him into the back of the quinjet, ignoring the way Yelena jumped at the sudden noise.

“Where’s Y/N?” Yelena asked, moving her head around, trying to see if you were close behind.

“Get us in the air,” Natasha ordered. Tears pricked her eyes once again.

“Are they coming?” Yelena asked again, ignoring Natasha’s order.

“I said get us in the air, now.”

Yelena gave Natasha a look that sent a shiver down her spine, but turned around and got the jet in the air nonetheless. The scientist pulled himself into the seat next to Natasha. He seemed much more relaxed, and Natasha couldn’t blame him. He probably didn’t realise just how much had been risked to get him back to SHIELD.

“You made the right choice,” he said after some unbearable silence. Natasha turned to look at him, her brows pulled together.

“Excuse me?”

“You made the right choice,” he said again with an enthusiastic nod. “You never know what those animals might do-”

He was cut off with a choked gasp as Natasha slammed her elbow into his face, and he quickly lost consciousness.

“Just shut up,” she mumbled to herself, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

It didn’t make her feel any better.

———

It was six weeks before the party had been dispatched to get you back. The party had consisted of Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda, and there was going to be nothing extra. They were going to get you out and get back to SHIELD, no side missions, no stops, no questions.

Maybe it just so happened that the only way to get you was to burn the facility to the ground and get the rest of the mutants out. Maybe they had called for a second quinjet to arrive to make sure everyone was able to get out safely.

Yelena and Wanda were tasked with getting everyone on the jets and eliminating the few soldiers remaining while Natasha had scoured the facility top to bottom to find you. There was a large portion of the basement that Natasha had found, filled with surgical equipment and things that would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.

And you were there, nude, in a too-small empty glass tank with a chain around your ankle. There were rips and tears in the thin membranes between your spines, and a dark black mark on your left shoulder blade. From her angle, it looked like some kind of gunk was stuck in your gills. You were curled up into a fetal position and kept your eyes glued to the ground directly in front of you.

“Y/N,” Natasha said, her gun still drawn but lowered.

“I should thank you, Miss Romanoff,” a voice called, and Natasha spun with gun raised to find a scientist walk forward, standing near a panel by your tank. “You gave me my greatest obsession.”

“How about you just let them out and I don’t kill you,” Natasha shrugged.

“I’ve learned a lot from our little friend,” he continued, ignoring her. “And you’re in time to see the results of something I’ve been working on.”

“Let them go,” Natasha said again. She cocked the gun, but the man laughed.

“I hear drowning is a horrible way to die,” he said, still ignoring her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw you raise your head and look at her. The dark spots under your eyes were beyond evident, sticking out against the sickened colour of your skin. There was no emotion in your eyes, not even a silent plea for help.

You looked like you had already accepted death.

“How long do you think a sea creature can hold its breath underwater before it needs to breathe?” He asked, his fingers typing against the panel.

“Don’t,” Natasha shouted, her trigger finger pulling instinctively and burying a bullet into the man’s chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Water started filling your tank, and you stood up to get your head as tall as it could get. Natasha nodded at you once, and you covered your head as she fired shot after shot at the tank. But there wasn’t even a dent, nothing to indicate that the tank could be broken.

“What do I do?” Natasha asked as she ran up to the tank, watching the water slowly rise to your ankles.

You didn’t speak, didn’t open your mouth, instead pointing as best you could to a discrete pipe against the opposite wall. Natasha looked at it and followed the direction until she saw a lone wheel connected to the wall. A wheel that could control the water flow.

“Stay here,” Natasha told you as she ran off, grimacing to herself. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go.

She grabbed the wheel and pulled, but it didn’t budge. It felt like she was trying to pull a quinjet with her bare hands; an impossible task in and of itself. Her eyes trailed over to see the water had reached your waist. There had to be something else she could get, something to help.

The thud of your hands on the glass made her turn, and you were pointing in another direction. Her eyes followed, but there wasn’t anything she could see that would immediately-

A pipe.

Natasha sprinted to grab it from the table, nearly dropping it in her haste to get back to the wheel. The water was up to your neck, and Natasha could already see that your gills weren’t filtering anything. They stayed terribly still, and Natasha had to drag her feet to get back to the wheel.

She stuck the pipe into the empty spaces of the wheel and pulled, yelling in frustration until it finally moved. She continued pulling until she heard the flow of water stop, and a tired smile etched itself onto her lips as she turned back around to see you.

But the water was over your head, and now she was leaving you to drown.

She couldn’t break the glass; the water was off and you were still drowning. Your eyes were wide, and the fear of the situation finally made its way onto your face as you curled in on yourself and started pulling at the chain around your ankle, air bubbles escaping from your nose at a rapid rate.

Natasha got an idea. She didn’t hesitate as she started pushing the pipe, the flow of water rushing back. Only this time, she didn’t stop until the pipes rattled with the flow, barely able to contain the volume inside. She pushed until the pipe stuck, and she turned and ran back to the tank.

Your eyes were closing, the air bubbles almost nonexistent, your struggle against the chain ending. Natasha started banging on the glass, trying to keep you awake, but you didn’t move, instead just floating, and Natasha felt her heart sink.

The glass creaked under her fingers. Natasha’s eyes shot open and she watched the glass, noting the single crack that started to web across the entirety of the tank. She barely had time to step aside as the glass shattered, water shooting out and leaving you to drop to the ground.

When you didn’t move, Natasha jumped forward, dropping to the ground and immediately starting CPR. She could feel a rib break, maybe two, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t going to stop until you could breathe. You just needed to fucking breathe-

Your body shuddered as you choked, coughing up water before your eyes shot open. Natasha felt herself let out a shaky breath, but she didn’t let herself rest. She grabbed her gun and shot where the chain was connected to the floor, listening to it break before grabbing you and pulling you up.

“You need to lose some weight,” Natasha groaned as you leaned on her side, your feet barely moving.

You didn’t say a word the whole trip out of the facility. Just managed to drag yourself out, eventually walking more on your own when you neared the quinjet. Yelena ran up to the both of you and got on your other side, sharing a look with Natasha.

“I’ve got it,” Yelena said in a tone that told Natasha to let go and give her some space.

Natasha did, watching as Yelena finished dragging you to the quinjet and putting you in a seat before wrapping a blanket around your naked form. Your eyes fell back to the ground when Yelena finally got the jet in the air, and you refused to look at anyone when you got back to the Tower, leaving Natasha without a second thought.

———

Natasha was sitting at the bar on the common floor, picking apart her food. She had tried to see you multiple times over the past two weeks, only to be turned away by doctors or Yelena. There was something wrong, but Natasha couldn’t find out because no one would let her.

The ding of the elevator had her turning her head, not necessarily eager but casually curious on who had appeared. To her surprise, Yelena walked out with a McDonald’s bag in hand, some drink in the other. She didn’t look happy, but Natasha could’ve expected that.

After all, Yelena hadn’t forgiven her.

“How are they?” Natasha asked.

“Alive, no thanks to you,” Yelena shot back. But she had stopped and was talking back; that was an improvement from the past two weeks.

“I had a mission,” Natasha said, but her voice was small, weak.

“They were part of that mission,” Yelena answered.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said quietly. She said it to assuage her own guilt. It didn’t work.

“You’re stringing them along,” Yelena said, her voice taking a different tone that Natasha hadn’t been expecting. “Just marry Maria already and end the suffering.”

“I’m not stringing them along,” Natasha defended.

But she knew she was wrong. Yelena was right. And Natasha wasn’t going to stop because what would her life be without you? How could she go about her day-to-day life if she knew you weren’t going to be there in some fashion? Maybe she was in love with Maria and was going to marry her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to throw you away.

“Just be gentle,” Yelena said with a sigh. “Everyone has feelings at stake.”

“And you?” Natasha asked, causing Yelena to freeze. “What feelings do you have at stake?”

A small, sad smile made its way onto her face.

“Desire,” Yelena shrugged, but just like that her demeanour changed. “Y/N said I couldn’t eat before them, and I very much desire this McChicken.”

“You’re disgusting,” Natasha chuckled.

“And this McFlurry. You know the good stuff,” Yelena teased again, causing the both of them to laugh.

“Then go on,” Natasha motioned toward where she assumed you were waiting. “I’d hate for the two of you to starve.”

Yelena gave her a smile, one like the good old days, and continued her walk. She stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“Oh, Fury wanted me to tell you something.” Natasha gave her a look for her to continue. “You and Y/N are going undercover. As a couple.” With that, Yelena continued off, leaving Natasha to deal with the news.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

Taglist: @wickedmuses @m-zne237 @noodlybees @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @hopingforromanoff

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #my writing

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liannyeong · 3 years

Text

Crimson (Chapter 14)

Summary: A sacrifice must be made.

Word count: 4703

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): angst, mentions of blood, character death

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Just one more chapter to go before this fic comes to an end! Do let me know your thoughts! Show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

It's been days since Yujin was brought to the Ancient Cave. It's a mystical place -- the walls are carved with symbols that Yujin can't recognize, each of them glowing a bright green. She guesses they are magic runes, perhaps to protect the sanctity of the place. The cave itself is lit up with torches of green flames that never seem to burn out.

Yena had left her here after their encounter in the forest, telling her to prepare herself for the ritual. But Yujin can barely wait. She's all ready to give her heart up. She's all ready to move on and forget this cruel life.

“The ritual can only be performed when the fae and his human love are present together,” Yena had explained, much to Yujin’s disappointment. She had hoped she wouldn’t see Jaebeom anymore. But at the same time, she does want to see the look upon his face as the ritual is conducted. Would he look regretful at least? Or would he look at her with indifference?

What does it matter? Yujin scolds herself. It's not like she can back out anymore. And she’ll definitely not be coaxed out of it. Perhaps, it's just her heart yearning to see his face for the last time.

Yujin is broken from her thoughts when she hears an echo of voices. Her ears automatically tune in to the one voice that her heart has been wanting to hear. She feels the swell in her heart as it gets louder and closer. Why does her heart feel this way? While her mind is determined to end this, why is her heart reluctant? Why is her heart and mind at war?

"-- Why did you bring me here?" Jaebeom's voice booms in the cave. The moment he steps in, the moment he lays his eyes on Yujin, he freezes. His eyes go wide. Perhaps he didn’t anticipate her in this cave.

“Y-Yujin…?” he calls out weakly, as if he doesn’t believe that she’s real.

He shuffles forward slowly, cautiously. There’s ample time for Yujin to back away from him, but she remains rooted to the ground. Jaebeom holds out a hand, raising it to her face. His fingers are inches away from her face, almost touching her cheek--

Then Yujin blinks, snapped out of a trance. She backs away, repelling from his touch. She sees the way Jaebeom's face falls, the look of dismay scribbled all over his face.

“Shall we begin?” Yena suggests, curling an innocent smile on her lips.

Yujin promptly nods, diverting her attention to the Air fae instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the slump of the male’s broad shoulders as he shifts to the other corner.

Yena circles an arm in a fluid motion before thrusting her hand forward. A gust of wind blew from her hand, so strong that it nearly extinguished the torches. Dust has been cleared away, revealing a circular rune on the ground that Yujin didn’t notice before. There are symbols lined along the circumference of the inner circle, caged by the outer ring. The inner circle itself contains geometric shapes -- squares, circles, straight lines -- with two semicircles at the core.

“Step into the center, and we can begin,” Yena says, gesturing at the two.

Yujin easily obeys, standing on one semicircle. Jaebeom, on the other hand, stays where he is. He bears a frown on his face, as if he’s having second thoughts.

“Yujin,” he says her name so gently, it could have made her go weak in her knees, “You don’t have to do this...”

Yujin wants to laugh. He’s just one step away from getting what he wants, and yet he’s hesitating? What a fool.

She tips her chin up, determined, "Let's get this done and over with."

Jaebeom moves a moment later, still reluctant. He stands on the other semicircle. She would prefer to look at anywhere else but his face, but in this position, he's directly in her line of vision.

“You may begin the ritual,” Yena announces, backing away into the wall.

“We don't have to do this, Yujin," Jaebeom mutters, "We can still work things out--”

“It’s too late for that, don’t you think?” Yujin interjects, glaring at him.

“Yujin, please..." he whispers, sadness in his voice. Even though he's just calling her name, it strikes a chord in her heart. But Yujin has to shake it all away. This is the best that she decides for herself, and for him.

Ultimately, Yujin knows he'll be happy in the long run, with his newly gained powers. He has spent most of his life -- if not all -- being an outcast and looked down upon by the entire faefolk. Yujin reckons it’s time he claims the honor and respect that he deserves. Besides, she's sure the sorrow that Jaebeom feels -- if any at all -- will be short-lived. There is another love waiting for him after this. She’s sure he’ll be healed by it.

"I'm doing this for you, after all," Yujin admits quietly.

An expression passes over Jaebeom's face, his eyes glistening, his lips trembling slightly. If he's feeling remorseful now, it is of no use.

Jaebeom tentatively raises his hand, reaching out for Yujin's face. She lets him. She lets the male cup her cheek and brush the skin there. She closes her eyes, revelling in the warmth of his palm for the last time.

A beat passes before Yujin opens her eyes again.

"Perform the ritual, Jaebeom," she says. "Please."

He nods slowly, still reluctant, before shifting his palm to Yujin's chest, right where her heart is. Then, he recites the same spell he once shared with Yunho:

Here I bring

A mortal heart.

Its love so pure;

It strengthens me.

Let the magic come

And give me strength.

In the next moment, Yujin feels warmth blossoming from her chest, spreading to the rest of her body. She feels the ground beneath her start to shake. The rune below starts to glow a bright turquoise. A force beam emerges from the ground, engulfing both Yujin and Jaebeom, its rays of light illuminating the cave. The warmth that she feels starts to burn through her skin, as if she's doused in oil, set aflame, and left to burn. She screams, the pain searing, her back arching. She doesn't notice the way Jaebeom's crimson eyes go wide, his face stricken with horror. And she definitely doesn't notice the huge grin on Yena's face.

Everything disappears and then, Yujin's vision goes white.

---

All she sees is white. The purity of the color is so blinding to her eyes, that Yujin can't help but wince. It takes her some time before she can adjust to the room, if it's even one. It's an endless space of white, nothing else in view.

"Hello, Shin Yujin," a voice calls out from behind, startling her.

A woman stands behind her, almost blending in with the background due to her pale skin, her white gown. Her hair is silver, her eyes bear a grayish tint. She wears a silver-plated circlet with a clear quartz at its centre.

Yujin swallows her throat, her heart pounding in her ears. Will this woman gouge her heart out?

"Don't be afraid," she says, coming closer, "I'm Sowon, a White fae."

Yujin blinks up at her, lost.

The woman starts to circle around her, as she continues, "All the faes that you have encountered in the physical realm are elemental faes. White faes, however, exist in the spirit realm. We are the guardians of the spirits, guiding them as they travel between realms."

Sowon stops right in front of Yujin. She raises her arms, gesturing at the white space. "This is the Transitional State,” she states, then looks at Yujin directly in the eye. "You are a spirit."

"What?" Yujin lets out weakly, confused.

The White fae snaps her fingers and the same magic rune in the Ancient Cave is projected in the air.

"You chose to sacrifice for a halfling called Im Jaebeom," Sowon says.

Yujin nods. "But-- But why am I a spirit? Doesn’t the ritual only require a mortal love?”

Sowon stares at her for a moment, as if expecting her to continue. When Yujin doesn’t, the White fae lets out a sigh, shaking her head slightly.

"You don’t know," she realizes. She proceeds to explain, "What the ritual requires is a mortal’s heart -- a physical heart -- that possesses a pure love for the fae. Thus, you’re sacrificing your physical heart and that will render you dead."

She holds out a hand, uncurling her fingers, revealing a small cube suspended just above her palm. It looks empty, worthless. "Your entire heart will be transferred here, converting itself into an endless flow of energy -- and power."

Realization dawns on Yujin. Not only will she lose all her feelings for Jaebeom, she will have to give up her life for him. In exchange for the power that he craves for. Yujin clenches her fists. Is the restoration of Jaebeom's power really worth her life? Or should she back out now, and leave him to suffer as a powerless fae in the woods?

"How tragic," Sowon utters, shaking her head in disapproval. "It’s already a forbidden spell, yet they were so wicked to lie to you about its requirement.”

Did Jaebeom know the true requirement? Or did he keep it a secret from her too? Yujin feels a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Tell me, dear Yujin, do you wish to proceed with this sacrifice?” Sowon asks, sounding genuinely concerned as she brushes the teardrop away.

Yujin exhales deeply. What does it matter anyway? Whether the ritual requires her heart or her life, it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, it’s Jaebeom who will reap the benefits. He’ll possess greater power, greater influence, and he’ll be able to take Yena as his true bride. It would no longer matter if she's dead or alive. He won't need her afterwards. He’ll proceed to live on as if nothing happened. She will just be another heart he has crushed, just another mortal that passed on.

Yujin reaches out to take the cube, but Sowon retracts her hand just a little. She has her head cocked to the side, finding it odd.

“Why?” she asks, blinking at Yujin with curious eyes.

Why? Yujin questions herself. The answer is simple: love. Despite having her heart trampled on, be used and abused, the love she harbors for the Fire fae overpowers. Yes, he may have utter sweet words and promises as a tool to manipulate her. But she was the one who let herself believe in them. She was the one who let her heart be swayed by him. She has fallen so deeply in love with him that she's willing to do anything. Even if it means giving up her life for him to be with someone else. Even if it means removing herself from the picture.

“Because I love him,” Yujin answers simply, much to Sowon’s surprise.

“Truly, your love for the fae is of the purest form,” Sowon acknowledges, with a nod.

The woman offers the cube on her palm. Yujin takes a deep breath before grasping it.

"We shall meet again, Shin Yujin," Sowon bids goodbye, disappearing into the whiteness of the place.

A moment later, Yujin feels something being ignited from deep within. Her body temperature starts to rise. Energy surges in her, coursing through her veins. Then, she feels a kind of current in her. The energy from the crown of her head to the tip of her feet flows to her chest, her heart pounding hard. There's a crack, and then, her chest is ripped open. Yujin screams in pain, her pitch high and deafening. Tears stream down her face, and despite the blurry vision, she catches a glimpse of wisps of mist -- stained a deep red -- coming out from her heart. The vapors diffuse into the cube in her hand.

When the last speck is absorbed, Yujin drops to the floor, barely able to open her eyes.

---

When Jaebeom blinks, he’s greeted by the sight of Yujin being suspended in the air. Previously, he was in the cave, standing on the magic rune that gleams after he uttered the spell. He last remembers hearing Yujin’s shrill screams. Now, in this vast space of white, there’s only the two of them. Crimson clouds shroud Yujin’s body, drifting towards an object in her hand. She doesn't notice his presence even though her eyes are wide open. Her face is contorted in pain, her back arching that he swears it could snap into two.

Just what is going on?

"Y-Yujin?" Jaebeom calls out, but receives no response at all.

He takes a step forward, coming closer to the female. He sees how Yujin's eyes are filled black in its entirety, how her skin turns pale. Nausea hits him, because beneath all that mist, her chest is split open. It’s a grotesque sight: her heart peeks through, still alive and beating albeit weakly. Strangely, there is no blood oozing out, only vapors. Observing the trail, Jaebeom realizes, to his horror, that the red mist is actually drawn out from her heart! The red fumes are actually vaporized blood!

Jaebeom rushes forward frantically, repeatedly yelling her name. He hopes her eyes would open, that she would regain consciousness. But nothing happens. So he tries to grab her wrist through the smoke. There seems to be an invisible force that cocoons her, because Jaebeom feels a spark at his fingertips before he is sent flying.

He lands on his back, hard. He groans. Still, it doesn't deter him from attempting to stop the process. Jaebeom sprints toward her, once more trying to pull her out. Again, the same force flings his body backward.

In his desperation, Jaebeom tries to come up with a different strategy. One particular method stands out in his mind, and he doesn’t waste any time. He shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath to steady himself. He searches for Yujin’s unconscious mind. The Lover's bond that they share makes it easier for him to locate her, but he can’t seem to tap into her mind at all. It’s like he’s barred from entering it. It’s like there is a protective shield that holds him off. No matter how much he tries, he cannot break through.

Jaebeom hears a thud. He snaps his eyes open, hoping that somehow it worked. That somehow, the process is halted. But no, it’s already too late. He sees the last speck of vapor in the air, travelling to the object that was in Yujin’s hand. Her body is almost lifeless, eerily still.

The fae rushes to her side, pulling her body into his arms. Her clothing has a spatter of red at the front, the material ripped down to her ribcage. She’s breathing faintly, so Jaebeom presses his palm into the open wound, hoping it'll stop the bleeding.

"Yujin, please--" he cries out. "Respond to my voice, please--"

The female shifts slightly, her eyes slowly fluttering open just a little bit. She must have realized who he is, for she shoots him a weak smile.

"It’s all yours now," she mutters, voice raspy and weak. Her hand twitches by her side, slowly uncurling to reveal a cube. It whirs loudly, a striking red light pulsing in the grooves.

Soon after, her body starts to disintegrate into dust. Jaebeom envelops her into a tight hug, desperately trying to hold onto the remains of her body. He hopes it’ll make her stay longer. But no, there is no effect at all. Her body continues to turn into ashes.

"No! No, no, no!" Jaebeom screams out, hysterical. Tears are streaming down his face. With the last bit of time he has, he holds her just a little closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Goodbye, Jaebeom," is the last thing he hears before the last bit of her existence slips through his fingertips, carried away by an invisible force, then fading away.

---

Jaebeom returns to the Ancient Cave alone, kneeling on the rune. Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Just a few moments ago, he was holding her in his arms, hugging her tight.

He belatedly notices the cube on the ground, left behind by Yujin herself. With shaking hands, he picks it up. Jaebeom feels its weight on his palm despite it being small, and he feels it pulse against his skin. In the next moment, the object melts becoming liquid, before seeping into the ridges of his skin.

Jaebeom feels stronger; the power making its way to him. The veins in his hand start to glow red. He watches as the energy flows through his body, illuminating his veins as it travels. His core feels a tad warmer, and he's sure any flames he produces will be fiercer than ever before.

“Jaebeom, you did it! You got the power!” Yena rejoices, coming forward excitedly, “This calls for a celebration! You’re invincible now!””

Despite that, Jaebeom can’t comprehend what happened. Yes, he has gained the powers he desired so much, but... Yujin is now gone. He feels a void in his chest, and he just knows it cannot be patched up.

“But Yujin...” he trails off, teary-eyed. “I lost her…”

“No, Jaebeom, she gave her life for you. She was willing to do it. Don't blame yourself for the decisions she made--"

But Jaebeom can't believe it. How did it end up like this? It was a rapid turn of events, that his mind still can't process it yet. Days ago, they were so in love, so happy together. Ever since they returned from the autumn celebration hosted by the Air court, Yujin seemed a little off -- more distant, in fact. She reasoned that she wasn't feeling good, so Jaebeom left her to rest. But the next thing he knew, Han, the Earth fae servant tasked to monitor the Garden, informed him that Yujin had ventured into the area. How surprised he was to find Yujin at the fountain, fully regaining the memories that he took away.

Jaebeom couldn't help the anger he felt towards himself then. He couldn't help the regret he felt from keeping the memories. He should have destroyed the fountain when he had the chance to. He shouldn't have ordered an Earth fae to construct the Garden in order to protect the fountain. He was so reluctant to destroy Yujin’s memories because revisiting them was the only way he could experience being close to her again. It helped him live. It made him happy.

But how was he to know that Yunho actually implanted his own memories into the fountain after his death? He was so preoccupied with having the real Yujin by his side that he overlooked the fountain. Despite Yujin asking about the Garden multiple times, Jaebeom thought he could get away with it. He thought Yujin's curiosity would die down as time passed by. Oh, how foolish he was! He should have just wiped away Yujin’s memories mercilessly without keeping it in any form at all. Even so, how can he? He cherished Yujin so much, he couldn’t bear to eradicate their childhood memories.

Still, Jaebeom doesn’t have anyone but himself to blame. Seeing Yujin so determined in performing the ritual, it is enough evidence of the pain he has inflicted upon her. Just how much pain has he put her through, for her to be so willing to throw the memories they have, the love they share? Perhaps he will never know now.

Despite his reluctance, he ended up proceeding with the ritual. Yena was the one who informed him of it years ago, when Yujin was still oblivious about the faefolk. They theorized that the sacrifice is merely the emotion of love, leaving the person unscathed.

Now, it proved to be false. Jaebeom didn't expect Yujin to be put through excruciating pain. He had thought the spell required just a mortal love. He didn't understand why she had to go through such a painful process. Why did she turn into dust if all they needed was her feelings?

"-- You finally have the power you have long sought for! Why does it matter if she's alive or not? If anything, you should be grateful that she'll no longer be a distraction to our mission!"

Something about Yena's comment snaps Jaebeom from his thoughts. Something about it brings about a flare of anger in him. Impulsively, he blasts a ball of fire towards the Air fae. His flames used to be orange, but now, it possesses a beautiful blue. Out of reflex, Yena crosses her arms, projecting a protective barrier that disperses the flames.

"What are you doing?!” Yena yells, startled by Jaebeom's sudden attack.

The Fire fae ignites both his hands into flames, bringing them together before pulling them apart. A whip of fire is conjured, without any tangible rope holding the flames. Jaebeom lashes the makeshift weapon toward Yena, successfully grabbing her by the ankle. She cries out, her ankle scorched by the fire. Jaebeom yanks her towards him, and she falls to the ground. He seizes her by the neck, holding her up in the air.

“You knew?" Jaebeom bellows, fury written all over his face. "You knew the ritual would kill her?”

“Of course I knew--” the Air fae chokes out, clutching at his wrist. Her nails scratch against his skin, but he pays it no mind.

“And you hid it from me?”

“If I didn't, you wouldn’t have done it--!”

Jaebeom hurls the female to the side, her body hitting the rough rocks of the cave. He hears her whimper in pain, but he doesn't care. He stomps over, and with his foot, he kicks her body to lay flat on her back. He presses his heel on her chest, ruthless, even as her face is flushed with a deep red, her lungs constricted.

"Why?" he spits.

"J-Jaebeom, p-please--" she chokes out, trying to relieve the pressure from his foot. “I can’t breathe--”

Jaebeom removes his foot, much to the relief of the Air fae. She gasps for air.

“If I had told you, that mortal will only hamper our progress. She's nothing but a distraction to you. I did what is right, to keep you focused on our plan!”

Jaebeom stares her down. "Perhaps I would have married you if you hadn't lied to me."

Confusion passes over Yena's face. “J-Jaebeom…?” she croaks out, unsure.

"Perhaps I would have married you if I loved you more. I regard you as a sister, nothing more," he continues. “This is too late but... I have led you on for so long, only to realize that I can never love you the same way I love Yujin.”

"You can't do this to me! You can't betray me like this!" she shrieks, grabbing Jaebeom’s legs. Tears start to stream down her face. Yena is out of her wits, totally deranged. "You promised me you would-- You can't--! I have been waiting so long for you! I stayed by your side for so long! You can't do this to me-- Jaebeom, please. You can't leave me--"

Jaebeom tugs her away so that he can crouch down comfortably.

"I'm sorry, Yena, but I can't do it," he mutters. "I hope you'll stay by my side as a loyal friend."

Yena's face darkens. She rises, albeit a little wobbly on her legs. Her fists are clenched tight by her sides.

"No, no, no! No, you can’t do this to me-- What do you take me for? A fool?" she growls. "Whether you love me or not, it no longer matters. Yujin is now dead, and you have to marry me, else you can never have the army you need to conquer all the fae courts!"

Jaebeom stands on his feet. He brings up a hand, and blue flames immediately envelop his skin, up to his wrist. He turns his palm over, mesmerized by the intensity of it.

“I’m sure I can still conquer the fae courts without marrying you,” he says simply.

"If I can't have you, then no one can!" Yena spits before rapidly circling her hands. A sphere of air is created around Jaebeom's head, taking away the oxygen he needs. It’s suffocating, the air from his lungs is also drawn out.

Jaebeom struggles to think straight, but he ignites his entire body with fire. The heat prickles his skin but it's only a slight discomfort. Then, it sets off an explosion, scattering the flames in all directions. The air sphere dissipates and Jaebeom can breathe again. He catches his breath for a moment before he points his fist at Yena, set ablaze, ready to strike.

But there is a stench of burning flesh, the fire has already engulfed the Air fae. Her skin starts to peel off like strips. Puffs of heavy black smoke fill the air, her deafening screams ringing in the cave. Then, Yena drops to the ground, moving only ever slightly, before she goes completely still.

Just like that, the Princess of the Air court is dead.

---

"Shin Yujin has passed on."

The words taste bitter on Jaebeom’s tongue, its weight heavy. He is not ready to accept the fact that Yujin is gone. He desperately wishes that it's all a dream, and that he’s just waiting to wake up. But his enhanced powers are clear evidence that it’s real. That he felt Yujin’s body disintegrating in his arms, that he heard her last goodbye.

Even though he’s still in denial, the only thing he can do for Yujin is to properly send her off. He decided to hold the procession at the Garden. The fountain is now gone, its water dried when Jaebeom returned. The Earth faes in the house help to erect a tombstone to honor Yujin. Everyone mourns for her, their heads down. Yeri herself is bawling her eyes out.

Jaebeom stays still, silently gazing at the tombstone. Only when the crowd disperses did the fae let his emotions flow. The sorrow floods his entire being, and he can’t help the tears from falling. He thinks of her, recalling all the memories they created together.

Initially, he was planning on making Yujin fall for him. He wanted her to trust him entirely. But the more he spent time with her, the more sincere he was. He genuinely enjoyed her company. It was as if he was the same youth Jaebeom who didn’t frown at the world. Momentarily, Jaebeom had forgotten about his original intention. Unbeknownst to him, Yujin had planted the seed of love in his heart. It sprouted through his chest, and bloomed flowers of love.

Now, it’s all too late. He underestimated how dear Yujin is to him. In the end, it wasn’t Yujin who was foolish. It’s Jaebeom himself. Yunho was right; he was blinded by his lust for power to see what truly matters most to him.

Jaebeom senses another presence nearby. He breathes before addressing him, “Scold me if you wish. Mock me for my foolishness. I deserve it.”

He hears a deep sigh from behind. Muffled footsteps, and then a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“You didn’t know,” Jinyoung responds. “Don’t blame yourself for it.”

"But I should have looked into it. I should have checked the facts for myself. Why didn’t I delve deeper?"

“That’s enough, brother,” Jinyoung placates, sliding an arm around his broad shoulders. “What’s done is done. We cannot turn back time.”

“If only I could…” the Fire fae mumbles. "What am I supposed to do now? I'm so lost. And the Air court--” He sighs. “I have incurred the wrath of the Air court.”

“First, live for her," Jinyoung says, nodding at the tombstone. "After everything, Yujin still willingly gave up her life for you, so that you can proceed with your cause. The least you can do is make sure that her sacrifice wasn’t futile. So live on for her sake."

There’s a pause.

“Next, we shall overthrow the fae courts, one by one, starting with the Air court.”

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 jaebeom #got7 im jaebeom #got7 jaebeom scenarios #got7 im jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom #im jaebeom #im jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom scenarios #got7 jaebum #got7 im jaebum #got7 jaebum scenarios #got7 im jaebum scenarios #jaebum #got7 writing #got7 fanfic #got7 imagines

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

Overgrown Metal

Series Summary: Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the veil with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after laying waste to nearly everything in their wake. Now eight paths cross to right the wrongs on both ends, working to uncover secrets that would have rather stayed hidden

Chapter 6: In Search of a Market

Tws: brief mention of panic, if there are others to tag please let me know!

WC: 2766

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi

Leaning his cane carefully against the outer wall of the building Hyden settled down on the ground slowly and began arranging the sticks he had been picking up into a pile. Logan followed not far behind, sighing in relief as he slid off the heavy pack and gently placed it beside him on even ground. The last thing he needed was for it to tip and have to rearrange everything if his samples shifted around.

Hyden looked up from his work to eye the pack in annoyance. “We’d go a lot faster if you hadn’t brought your entire barn with you.”

“We’d also go faster if-” Logan cut himself off from snapping something he’d regret, cranky and tired as he was throwing insults about something no one could change was not a line he would cross.

Hyden, stubborn ass that he was, decided to dig. “If what Logan?”

“Don’t.” He reached forward to place his hand on the pile, moisture collecting around it that was ficked into a container before he placed a finger near the pile again. There was a muted snapping sound as a single spark crackled in front of the shriveled wood, immediately catching and spreading to make a small fire for the night. It was hardly even dark yet but it was always good to stop early if there was a good resting spot to be had, especially with how unpredictable things could be the farther from the forest they ventured.

“I’m not stupid, Logan. But-” He held his hand up to cut the other off from whatever he was to planning to retort with. “I understand. Even if it is still an ungodly amount you took the bare minimum to continue your research. I’m only concerned about being caught out here, either by guards or beasts.”

They were both tired and on edge, running away from both the forest and avoiding whatever mech beasts they could until they found a better way to carry Logan’s portable, hashed together lab. It had been a few days since they had left and they had done nothing but walk, taking as little breaks as possible to cover as much ground as quickly as they could and they were both starting to feel the effects of it, Janus because of his leg and Logan because he simply wasn’t used to travel. He had stayed in the farmhouse for so long, becoming complacent in its relative safety that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind to be ready to pick up and leave at any given moment. He only hoped he truly had grabbed everything he would need and wouldn’t be missing anything later when they needed it. Speaking of which-

“It isn’t what you're used to but this should hold you over until we can get somewhere that I can make more salve.” Passing a bottle of arthritic tylenol to the other he made a mental note to keep an eye out for the herbs he would need; he had been going to go on a trip soon to replenish his stock but they had left before he got a chance. Hopefully whatever he could scrounge up would be enough for now.

“Thank you.” They sat in silence, just staring into the dancing flames. Logan wanted to say something but really didn’t want to bring up another argument, content enough to wait for them to warm up before pulling anything out for dinner. They couldn’t cook anything for fear of the smell attracting anyone who might be close if they fire didn’t do it already, but preserved bread and some nuts were just as good...for now.

Hyden shifted into a more comfortable position, wincing slightly before settling his chin in his hand. “Either you start talking or I do and I’m willing to bet the last thing you want is news from the Court right now.”

Logan shuddered to think of the chaos it had most likely dissolved into by now, considering the state he had left it in. No, he definitely did not want to know what they had been doing all this time- for now at least. It was always best not to talk too openly about the affairs of the fae out in the open. “No, I was mostly wondering where we could go to stock up our supplies. We’ll need to soon depending on how far out we need to go before we’re safe.”

“Logan.” He looked up to see Hyden’s confused expression. “You do realize we’ll most likely never be able to stop right? Unless you want to go back and gain freedom somehow with brute force, but they aren’t going to stop looking just because you moved out of the forest. Your research isn’t exactly...encouraged.”

“It never was.” Logan mumbled, idly throwing a small stone into the fire to watch as the dirt it was covered in flared before soot began to coat it instead, pointedly ignoring the look he was getting.

“You don’t even know that you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“I know enough to suspect and with the way things- Hyden those things were dead. They were hastily constructed, poorly made machines that could barely imitate the wobble of a toddler if left to their own devices. And then all of the sudden they were up and running and attacking like it was instinctual! We hadn’t even programmed that in yet.” Logan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It needs to make sense and my hypothesis is the only one I can think of-”

“You honestly think animals are running in little hamster wheels inside them to make them do things?’ Hyden smirked at the deadpan stare he received.

“That is not what I said and you know it.”

“Isn’t that why when they attack they still eat? To feed the animal inside?”

“Hyden-”

“I’ll stop.” He chuckled at the scientist's sour expression. “But honestly, animals being preserved inside for energy? I don’t think they’d be capable of such a thing in such a short time span.”

“At the level of desperation they were at before I left I wouldn’t put it past them. The beasts have the instinct to hunt and fight just like any other animal would- the only difference is they have specific targets in mind when they do it. I can’t fathom what else they could have done unless they were working on a secret program that I had no idea about- which is highly unlikely considering how high up in the project I was.” Sniffing indignantly Logan passed a few pieces of the crunchy bread to his companion, already missing his usual meals and wishing more than anything they were far enough out that they could catch and cook something.

“In answer to your earlier question,” Logan flushed with the realization he had forgotten what they had been originally talking about. “There’s a few settlements underground- some quite impressive- that we might be able to find to get more nonperishable items to have until we can get far enough away that trapping and cooking wouldn’t be an issue. We just need to find a river.”

“A river?”

Hyden nodded. “They’re used somehow to power the city. They’re humans, but they can be clever at times.”

“They’re just as smart as anyone else, we just beat them to the stupidity of ruining the planet.” Finishing his dinner Logan sighed. “The sooner we figure out how the beasts work, the sooner we can shut them off and lower the Court’s defenses. They weren’t relying on anything else when I was there.”

“That’s your plan? Shut down whatever gets in the way and just waltz your way back in?” Hyden snorted. “I’m sure they’ll all adore the scientist that abandoned his post coming back to give them a stern lecture on the importance of ethical science.”

“I’ll have you know I have a bit more tact now that I’ve spent some time away.”

“Oh honey, I love you so much but you blew holes straight through buildings and ran in a straight line through the forest to escape.”

Flushing, Logan looked away as the other laughed quietly. “It was a flight response and I didn’t think pulling the emergency evacuation switch had actually worked!”

“It was cute. Very subtle and very you. Though I do wish you would have waited for me, I would have loved to see you running through snap explosions like a dragon learning its magic for the first time.”

“It was a straight line!”

“Logan a building fell over sideways because you blew through an entire support wall.” Hyden’s eyes crinkled with a fond smile. “That pout definitely helps your case.”

Hurrying to unfold his arms he took a few seconds to move oxygen away from the fire, letting Hyden rearrange the sticks so they’d stay as lit embers to keep them warm until they fell asleep. He yelped as his blanket was thrown in his face, taken out of god knows where just to spite him. Shooting the other a withering look he didn’t end up seeing he curled onto his side and sighed. Another night spent outside and another day spent walking in a random direction. Hopefully they’d come across a town soon.

He really hated the dry bread.

-----

“Wait Roman, is that it?” Virgil pointed to a spot in the middle of the river they had been following. The subtle line of foam could easily be missed if you weren’t looking hard enough but he and Roman had spent almost their whole lives learning to look for these subtle hints a town was nearby.

“Finally! Okay keep going this way, you circle back the way we came and look.” So saying Roman hurried over to where the line was and began walking out to the surrounding field while Virgil turned to look out from where they had already passed.

There wasn’t a clear agreement on what kind of settlement was better: one that was above ground with tall, thick walls to try and hold back the forest and mechs, or ones made underground that people hoped the forest would grow right over- and seeing how the mechs had never been seen digging into the ground there was little fear of it being destroyed. Underground settlements however, obviously didn’t see the sun like the ones above did, so they used water instead. The little line of foam signaled that water from the river was being redirected to a system of water wheels for hydroelectric power for the city. To keep it from flooding or corroding, the system was often just beside the river on the other side, where there would be a subtle exit for water to escape if the system failed. On the other side was the actual entrance, another hidden passage that would lead underground to the levels of the city beneath it. All they had to do was locate and identify the passageways and they’d be able to get in, get to the market to trade and get back out hopefully without too much hassle. It was a system that after years of traveling together they had perfected, however rocky their beginning had been.

He heard a shout from Roman as he was poking around in some grass, sighing in relief when he saw them waving him over. Readjusting the heavy pack he walked up to where there was a bump in the grass, almost like the ground had a pimple. Toeing around the edges however he could feel a thin seam that when lifted revealed a ladder about a foot away from the top.

“The entrance on the first try!” Roman declared triumphantly.

“Yeah now I won’t have to hear you complain about wet boots and pants the entire time we’re here.” Virgil teased. If they were unlucky enough to find the exit first, where there was just a straight drop to the water systems, they’d have to cross the river to find the entrance instead. The past few times had been like this with Roman complaining about being wet and both of them shivering miserably through the market the entire time. These trips weren’t fun to begin with but it added another layer when their clothes stuck fast and the cool air of the caves did nothing to dry them faster. Ignoring Roman’s pout he dropped down and began to descend.

The air immediately cooled as he surrounded himself with earth Roman shimmying down above him and shutting the entrance, encasing them in darkness. Taking a steadying breath he made his way down carefully, counting softly as he went so Roman would know when to step down. He was always very grateful the holes were wide enough to fit both them and their bags since dropping them down first wasn’t an option. The tunnel began to lighten the further down they went and Virgil let out a breath as his feet finally touched solid earth, reaching a hand out to steady Roman as they made it the rest of the way down as well. Gripping Roman’s hand tight to his so they wouldn’t get separated he squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes into the meanest glare he could muster, tugging up his hood and mask and stepping forward towards the light.

In most underground cities the main markets were on the first level. A seemingly endless amount of stalls and shacks set up advertising a variety of goods and services. Further to the sides had buildings for general maintenance where workers that handled the waterwheels and power lived...as well as other services that required walls to pay for. The second level was mostly housing with buildings set in place for doctors offices and more formal stores if you had something to pay the price with. There were also the occasional restaurant and place of worship and even a school if the city had resources and time for it. If and when these kinds of settlements had a third level- most didn’t for the sake of time and integrity- it would be where more housing and the darker market was set up. Typically normal people wouldn’t be carrying around mech parts to sell, as being a Hunter wasn’t exactly the safest job to have. To make sure civilian numbers didn’t dwindle since they were low enough as it was, selling mech beast parts was typically banned, though no one would question you if you just happened to have them and weren’t trying to sell them.

They had heard a while back about a settlement further out with a thriving black market that used the metal and gears from the mechs to make prosthetics and sometimes weapons. Since mass production of anything was a no-go with the way the world was, this person was absolutely flourishing in their business, even if it was kept on the down low so as to only attract the attention of people who would be buying and selling rather than investigating. This is where they were headed to sell the parts they had been able to gather, eager to finally get a good price for everything and get enough provisions to get back on the road. Weaving their way through a sea of people and following the shotty directions they had been given a few weeks back they finally stopped at a building tucked innocently in a far corner of the marketplace, a small sign out front advertising medical care. Virgil looked to Roman and nodded, moving behind them as they approached to keep an eye on the surrounding area. Being this deep in the city was dangerous; if they were recognized here they’d be hard pressed to get out in time before they were caught, the thought of which had Virgil’s heart hammering in his chest as Roman gave a few sharp raps to the door.

He shifted his pack as footsteps were heard banging up to the door that opened moments later to reveal a tall, rather lanky man with wild curly hair and a neatly kept mustache. The shop owner opened his mouth to speak but stopped before he let a word out, squinting his eyes and staring at Roman hard. Virgil felt his heart beginning to beat faster, muscles tense and ready to run as his eyes darted from the man to Roman back again, half tempted to punch him out and run regardless of what his intentions were. Blood rushed in his ears as the others’ eyes widened, Roman standing frozen in front of him as he finally spoke.

“Roman?”

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I have a lot to expand upo in regards to how magic works in this worked, which we'll definitely be exploring in later chapters. For now if you have any questions about, feel free to ask either here or head over to @5-falsehoods-phonated on tumblr. Anon is always on and I'd be delighted to answer any and all questions provided the answer wouldn't be a spoiler. Thanks for reading ^-^

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#false writes #overgrown metal #fantasy au #sandrs sides fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil snaders #logan sanders #janus sanders #qpp lociet

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meow-bebe · 4 years

Text

stellatus

Pairing: Lee Felix x artist!reader

Genre: fluffffff

Warnings: literally nothing. this is so sweet asghk we’re channeling the cute here. like honestly not even my usual cussing

Word count: 3614 (!!!)

A/n: remember that idea I posted a while ago? well heres the fic! Im suuuper proud of this one because its the longest thing ive written for this blog (3k! more than 3k! that makes me so happy ahhhh!) and also I just really love it! usually I don't particularly like my own writing but this one I feel like is my best work. also about half way through writing this I found this amazing drawing by @panini-byanyothername which gave me the encouragement to finish this and also deserves all of the love because its an amazing piece of art! it was drawn based on another fanfic but its super pretty and is very close to what my story is about so I thought it would be appropriate to include a link

~~~

stēllātus; first/second-declension adjective starry, stellate, starred

“I have an idea,” you announced, bouncing with excitement as you ran into the room where Felix was currently sat at your desk on his computer. Latching your arms around Felix’s neck from behind, you rested your chin gently on his shoulder.

“And what would that be?”he asked, spinning the office chair he sat in and successfully rotating within your arms.

“I want to paint on you!” you said brightly as Felix’s hands came to rest on your waist as you snuggled closer, plopping down into his lap.

“What?” Felix asked, slightly startled by your bold proposition.

“I want to paint on you,” you repeated, “like, kind of use you as a human canvas?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and you grinned awkwardly, the incredulous tone of his voice making you shy.

“I’m not opposed,” Felix mused, and you immediately brightened back up again. “Why though?”

“Well,” you said, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie, “first of all you’re the only person I have on hand at the moment.” You giggled, and Felix raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But I’ve always loved painting on skin. There’s some strange appeal that comes with turning another human being into art. Unfortunately, I’ve only ever done it on myself before, but I had this really amazing idea a while ago and have held onto it forever and you are absolutely perfect for it.” You finished by pressing a sweet kiss to his nose. “So?” you asked eagerly, “what do you say? Let me paint on you?”

Felix chuckled lightly, and you could feel the deep vibrations where your hands were set on his chest. “Aren’t you going to tell me what your amazing idea is?”

“Nope!” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ as you smiled happily, “You’ll just have to say yes and see what I do. It will be beautiful, I promise.”

Felix playfully narrowed his eyes at you. “You won’t do something stupid or make me look weird?”

“I would never,” you said, sticking out your littlest finger, “pinky swear. And anyway, nothing could ever make you look weird, pretty boy.” Felix’s eyes widened at your compliment, a light shade of red creeping across his cheeks as he wrapped his pinky around yours. No matter how often you complimented him he always had the sweetest flustered reactions.

“What are we waiting for then?” you practically vaulted out of his lap, tangling your fingers together and tugging on his hand to try and get him to follow you.

“What, now?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes, now,” you said, pulling on his hand again, “I can’t wait any longer, I’m dying to finally do this.”

“Alright,” Felix said, laughing as he stood up from the desk, whatever he was working on earlier abandoned as you enthusiastically pulled him along to the spare bedroom turned art studio.

“Here,” you said, tossing one of the already paint-stained cushions you often put to use out of the closet, “sit down while I find what I need.”

Felix grabbed the cushion and set it on the large, clear plastic mat you always kept set out over the hardwood floors. There were several places you had set up for painting, laying on the floor and the easel by the window being two of your favorites, and you rotated between them depending on how you were feeling that day. It seemed like today was a sprawled across the floor day, although that made sense, Felix reasoned, if you were going to be painting on him. He sat down and watched as you zipped back and forth across the room, picking through your jars of brushes and bins of paints to find the supplies you would be using.

Thrusting one of the mason jar mugs you used to wash out your brushes at Felix, you asked, “Could you go fill this up with water for me?” He nodded compliantly, pulling himself up off the floor and traipsing across the hall to the bathroom to fill the glass mug with water. When he came back into the room, you had set up a jar of brushes to pick through, tossed a few tubes of paint to the floor next to the two cushions, and were currently spread across a decent portion of the floor with one of the large folders you had labeled as “inspiration and references.” These were collections of anything you could possibly want to give you ideas or utilize in your art, ranging from newspaper clippings, old photographs, passages from books and poems scrawled on torn notebook paper (or on the more rare occasion, printed out), and absolutely filled to the brim with doodles and practice drawings. You were a firm believer in the idea that anything could be reused or help inspire you in the future, which ultimately lead to your large collection. Usually you tried to date the bits of paper you tucked away, but it didn’t help with your chronic lack of organization.

“What are you searching for?” Felix questioned, assuming that you wouldn’t answer but asking anyway.

“Can’t tell,” you said, eyes twinkling with a spark of mischief, “it’s supposed to be a surprise, remember?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking. What do you want me to do then?” he asked, looking around the room and wondering what you had planned for him.

“Just sit, I’ll find it in a moment.” Felix settled himself back down on the floor as you continued to rifle through the folder barely containing the papers inside it. He watched as you carefully separated a few glossy photos that had stuck together and shuffled through a stack of what appeared to be old school work. “Aha!” you shouted victoriously, startling Felix and holding a few taped together pieces of paper in the air.

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity over both the project itself and the haphazardly folded but carefully assembled papers in your grasp too much to handle.

To his surprise, you gave in this time. “Star chart!” you chirped, obviously too pleased with yourself to continue hiding your intentions. “I’ve always loved space, specifically stars, and I took an astronomy class in high school but never got rid of the papers that weren’t just worksheets. I always hoped that someday I would be able to use them for painting. And here we are!” Felix smiled at the happy grin lighting up your whole face, your excitement too endearing to not acknowledge.

“Cute.” Felix grinned happily as you shuffled over to where you had set up all of your supplies. All of a sudden his smile turned bashful, stammering slightly as he asked, “Should I like, take my shirt off or something then?”

You giggled, setting down the star chart and plucking a thin marker from amongst the plethora of materials. “Not this time. I want to do your face!”

“What?” Felix gasped, eyes widened in surprise.

“I want to paint on your face!” you repeated, excitement fading as you rolled the marker between your hands, suddenly nervous. “Your freckles, specifically. Only if you’ll let me though.” You fidgeted slightly, focused on the marker before looking up at Felix who still wore a slightly startled expression.

“My - my freckles?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Finding patterns that match my constellations-” you patted the papers sitting beside you - “and then turning your face into a little galaxy.”

“Y/n,” he said softly, and you braced yourself to be turned down, “I think that’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come up with. Why would I ever say no?”

Your eyes shot up to find Felix’s, and you could see all of the adoration that he held for you in their depths. “Really?” you asked, pulling yourself into his lap and tucking your arms around his waist.

“Really,” he confirmed, sealing a gentle kiss against your mouth. “Now, how do you want to go about this?”

You clamored off of Felix, grabbing the marker from where you had dropped it at his side and snatching the star chart into your hands before thrusting it at Felix. “Pick a few that you like, and I’ll see if what I can do to weave them out of your freckles,” you said, placing the folded chart into his hands and backing off to begin rifling through the paint tubes you had chosen. “Try not to do anything too difficult, I think the simpler ones would look better for this.”

Leaving him to pour over the constellations, you realized that you had overlooked finding a palette earlier in your scramble to find paints, so you pulled yourself up off the floor to move to the closet once again. Shoving a few bins of paints and stacks of assorted canvases to the side, you finally found the collection of palettes stored near the back of the shelf. Just barely managing to get your finger under the one on the bottom (the shelf was slightly too high, not enough to really bother you, but it could be a minor inconvenience sometimes), you dragged the precariously balanced stack towards yourself.

“What about Lyra?” Felix called from behind you.

“That would work,” you mused, shuffling through the pile in search of one not too caked in dried paint.

“Or Aquila?”

“Also fine,” you responded, selecting a mostly clean palette. “I really want to try Draco, so we’ll do that one first and then fit the others on after that. Sound good?”

"Anything you want to do is good with me," he replied, and you turned to see the pretty blush staining his cheeks.

"But you're the one making this project come to life," you said, crossing the room in a few steps and settling down in front of him. "You should have some input."

"I'm merely the final product in this situation. You, y/n, are the one bringing it to life." Now it was your turn to grow flustered by his compliments.

"Oh hush," you said, searching on the floor for the marker you had set down.

Finding your marker, you uncapped it and scooted closer to Felix. "Ready?" you asked.

He looked at the marker warily. "I thought you were painting."

"I am painting, but I have to sketch it out first," you laughed. "I always do."

"Oh," he said, looking down shyly. He always loved to watch you paint, however paying attention to the process was something else entirely. "Well go on then."

Studying his face carefully, you placed a small dot on top of a freckle close to the top of his cheek. Glancing back at the star chart, you drew another right under it, and awkwardly angled your pen to try and reach better. Pulling the papers mapping out your reference closer, you shuffled to the side and drew another dot.

"This isn't working very well," you said, taking Felix's chin in your hand and tilting his head to the side to try and reach better. "I might move you again, so try not to move and tell me if it's too uncomfortable."

Felix nodded in response just as you set the tip of the marker against his cheek, leaving a small inky streak down his face. You sighed. "Next time just say you heard me. I'm going to get the rubbing alcohol.” You stood up and headed to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and rummaging around to find the necessary bottle. Finding what you needed, you stood up and crossed the hallway once again to rejoin Felix.

"Here." Felix held out a cotton ball that he had no doubt found in the depths of one of your many bins of random art supplies.

"Thanks," you said quietly, already flipping the top of the rubbing alcohol open and soaking the cotton in liquid before scrubbing it gently across Felix's cheek. He held still for the moment, letting you remove the ink from his face and watching your movements carefully.

"Done?" he asked as you tossed the now somewhat grey cotton ball to the floor.

"Yep." you picked up your marker again. "Good to go?" He nodded again, this time making sure that the marker was nowhere near his skin.

You set back to work, switching between analyzing the star chart and making small dots where you could connect the freckles strewn across Felix's face to resemble the constellation you had picked.

After readjusting Felix's face for the nth time, you sighed. “This isn’t working,” you complained, capping your marker and letting your hand fall into your lap.

“I can tell,” Felix mused. “Any ideas?”

You tilted your head, scanning over his face, and Felix could see the imaginary lightbulb pop up above your head as a grin spread across your face. “Maybe,” you said cheekily, crawling into his lap and once again uncapping your marker. Placing the non inky end into your mouth, you cupped your hands around Felix’s cheeks, gently moving his head around until you think you’ve found the perfect angle. “Don’t move.”

Finding that your new vantage point gave you perfect access to the soft skin of your boyfriend’s cheeks, you steadily set back to work, sketching light lines between the makeshift “stars” that quickly began to fill the freckles dotted across Felix’s face.

“Alright! I’m all done.” You leaned back a bit to admire your work, already extremely happy with the way that everything was turning out. “And now -” you clambered off Felix’s lap to let him stretch while you gathered the scattered supplies necessary for the next step of your project - “we paint!”

Felix giggled at the enthusiasm spreading a happy brightness across your face, bringing you closer for a chaste kiss as soon as you had settled yourself back across him. Clasping the brush you had picked up between your teeth as you seemed prone to do, you grabbed two of the few tubes of paint selected from a small box of metallics Felix wasn’t aware you had and unscrewed the one containing silver paint. Squeezing a small amount onto the palette in your other hand, you replaced the cap and set it to the side.

You pulled the paintbrush from your mouth, and said, “This is it. No going back after I start painting,” you warned, absolutely failing to hide the playful tone in your voice.

“I have sharpie all over my face,” Felix laughed, “I’m pretty sure we reached that point a while ago.”

“Right,” you said, ducking your face a little, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. “Well then, let the painting begin!” Placing a sweet kiss to the tip of Felix’s nose, you swirled your brush through the silver paint and hesitantly hovered over the inked lines connecting his freckles.

“You’re not going to mess this up,” Felix reassured, almost as if he could immediately pick up on your thoughts, “anything you paint is always beautiful and I have complete confidence in you.”

The compliments flustered you even more, and muttering a soft, “Oh, be quiet,” you set your brush down, dragging the bristles across the lines you had laid down earlier.

Felix shuddered under the cool touch of paint stroked across his face, and you backed off for a moment, letting him adjust to the foreign feeling. “Try not to move,” you said, setting down your palette and cupping his jaw sweetly.

You painted thin, careful lines over all of the drawn out constellations, painstakingly smoothing the edges and adding a second layer to those where the black ink was still visible. While you kept all of your focus on the paintbrush in your hand, Felix lost himself in the way that you concentrated on the task you had set yourself to. He loved to watch you paint, and the experience was ten times better when you were right up close. Felix watched your expressions as you immersed yourself in your work, noticing every little forehead scrunch, loving the cute way that you would chew on your lip or poke your tongue out when you got to a particularly tricky spot. There wasn’t enough focus left to be self conscious when you truly absorbed yourself in your art, and it was times like these that Felix thought you were most true to yourself, which lead to it also being when he found you most beautiful. Not that you weren’t other times, certainly, but there was something enchanting about your little expressions and the way your hair would stick up from running your fingers through it. You would always have paint all over your hands, no matter how careful you had been, and when it was still wet the pigment often transferred to your face or hair. Of course you never noticed, and so Felix would let you know you should probably look in a mirror, but only after silently appreciating the way that the smudged paint on your forehead somehow only enhanced the glow of beauty that truly being in your element brought out.

“There we go!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Felix out of his reverie. “I’m finished with the lines,” you told him, dropping your paintbrush into the cup of water and swishing it around a little. “Now I just have to do the stars.”

You leaned to the side and reached around Felix to grab the other tube of paint you had taken out and added some of the gold to the palette before screwing the cap back on and tossing it next to you. Balancing the palette on your knee, you grabbed the cup containing your brush and dragged it toward you. Quickly and thoroughly rinsing the paint from the bristles, you wiped off the excess water and took Felix’s face into your hand once again, gently maneuvering him back into a position where you could easily paint.

Now used to the feeling, Felix didn’t startle when you began painting again, the cool touch of the paint to his cheek calming. You worked steadily, crossing tiny strokes to form the stars connecting the constellations created by his freckles. Every now and then you would shift in his lap, or make sure that the angle his head was at wasn’t making his neck ache, but for the most part you worked silent and still.

You smoothed tiny lines into shapes, keeping them tidy and occasionally layering more paint on where it had smudged or the first coat had been too thin. After finishing one of the stars higher on his cheek, you leaned back to admire your work.

“I think I’m done,” you said softly, wiping a bit of golden paint off Felix’s forehead.

“Can I see?” he asked, plucking the paint brush out of your fingers and placing it in the paint water.

You nodded, climbing out of his lap and gesturing towards the messy desk in the corner of the room. “There should be a mirror up there. I’m going to go get my Polaroid camera.” You loved that camera, it had been a gift from a friend years ago, and you only pulled it out for special occasions. Felix knew how much it meant to you, and the fact that you wanted to capture this moment with it warmed his heart.

When you returned to the room, Felix was sitting back on the cushions you had pulled out, the small hand mirror next to him on the floor. “It’s beautiful, y/n,” he said, and you smiled at the compliment, whispering a quiet “Thanks.”

“Where do you want me?” Felix asked, nodding towards the camera in your hands.

“By the window, probably,” you said, “I think backlighting would look good for this.” It was reaching late afternoon now, and the sun was beginning to sink to the horizon quickly. The golden light would shine through his hair beautifully, and Felix always glowed in the sunlight.

The two of you moved to the other side of the room, and Felix quickly set himself up in front of the window.

“Should I pose or something?” Felix asked, and you shook your head in response.

“Just do what feels natural,” you said, squinting at him through the viewfinder on your Polaroid before lowering it to watch him adjust for the photo. He seemed to relax under your gaze, and turned his head to the side so he was looking straight into the lens as the light washed over the paint trailed across his face, illuminating the shine of the metallics you used. He stilled after a moment, and after you were sure he wasn’t going to move, you pressed the shutter. The camera began printing your photo, and after a moment you plucked it from the slot, pressing it between your lips and bringing the camera back up to your eye.

“I want to take one more,” you mumbled around the developing photo in your mouth, “close your eyes for me?” Felix complied, letting his lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks as a small smile settled across his face. You snapped your second photo, bringing the camera down and tucking the earlier in between your fingers as you waited for the second to print. Felix came to stand next to you, taking the second photo and looking over your shoulder to see how the first one turned out.

As you watched the color seep onto the glossy paper you knew that the stars across his cheeks, no matter how pretty they were, could never compare to the stars that shone in his eyes. He was truly beautiful, and standing there with your camera in hand, his hair brushing against your cheek, you were never more aware.

#lee felix #felix #felix stray kids #stray kids #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #stray kids fanfiction #felix fanfiction #maybe ill have to start a masterlist soon this is exciting

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jisungsmochi · 4 years

Text

better together - park jisung

summary; sometimes jisung would make impulsive decisions and needed someone to just say to him ‘hey! what are you thinking?!’. that happened to be you. throughout the past two years of being classmates with jisung, you both had established a strong friendship that relied on both of you to keep eachother in check. but when jisung tells you his plans of confessing to his crush, you weren’t sure how to keep everything in check anymore.

im in my jisung feels oops

word count: 1.7k :))

friends!au , lil angst and lots and lots of fluff hehe (sorry for any mistakes)

you were laying on your bed, listening to music through your earphones. there was a knock at your door, which you were unable to hear, resulting in jisung opening your door and barging into your room. you looked over at him and screamed, visibly shaken that the boy came in without permission.

“jisung, how many times have i told you? text me when you’re coming over!” you rolled your eyes before removing your earphones and placing them on your bedside table.

“i’m sorry, i just really needed some advice” he gave you a pleading look before you nodded towards your bed where he took a seat.

“was it so important you couldn’t just have facetimed me?” you shove your elbow to his shoulder, which didn’t seem to budge him at all. he didn’t respond to your banter like he usually did.

“okay then this must be really serious, what’s up?” you seated yourself next to him, bringing your chin to rest itself against your knees.

“it’s about chaeyoung” he avoided eye contact with you and fiddled with his fingers, which you only noticed when he was nervous.

“oh” was all you could say. jisung had suddenly developed this crush on chaeyoung, almost a week after they were paired for a project. you knew that jisung often acted upon impulse, and didn’t really think a lot of things through, in which he would come to you. that’s how you both worked.

every time he brought her up, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. you didn’t want to discourage his crush, because well, chaeyoung was a good person. but jisung was just quick to act on his emotions, and you were afraid he would get hurt.

“i want to confess to her” jisung spoke, ever so softly. you remained silent, your lips pressed to a thin line, your eyes avoiding him at all costs.

what were you supposed to say? ‘oh yeah go for it, even tho you barely know her!’ that would just make him feel even more nervous.

“do you really think it’s a good idea? jisung, you’ve only really known her for a maximum of two weeks!” you tried to reason, giving him some logical advice. he seemed to be upset by your response.

“and what? i still like her! time doesn’t matter! we’ve been friends for two years and we haven’t liked eachother! time really isn’t that important” his words struck you harder than you had ever anticipated. how could he even think of comparing your friendship to his silly crush?

“if you’re going to speak to me like that, then i’m not helping you. figure it out yourself and don’t come to me when she rejects you” you spoke, holding back any bit of dignity you had, moving yourself to your door and opening it for him. you couldn’t make out any expressions on his face, his bangs covered his eyes as he stood and exited your room without a word.

asshole. you whispered to yourself.

the following week at school, you avoided jisung at all costs, and it seemed like he was doing the same. you were still concerned with whether or not he went through with his confession, but you weren’t in the position to ask him.

you were sitting alone at your usual table, when chenle approached you and sat across from you.

“hey y/n” the boy smiled whilst giving a small wave. you looked up from your book, giving him a small smile before closing the book and focusing on him.

“do you know what’s up with jisung? he’s been really quiet lately. i’ve been trying to get him to play games with me but he keeps declining! he never does that!” chenle gave you a confused look as you sighed.

“he wanted to confess to chaeyoung and i pretty much advised him not to and now he’s mad at me, and now the world apparently” you let out another deep sigh, unsure of how to mend things between you two.

“oh but isn’t chaeyoung dating hyunjin?” chenle spoke, still stuck with a confused expression.

“what?” you looked at him, before shaking your head. “jisung will be crushed, unless he already confessed. oh god, i need to talk to him” you began packing your stuff.

chenle stopped you briefly,

“i hope you can help him, in my opinion, i think you two are better together than you are apart. i hope things can be fixed between you two!” he gave you a small fist bump before allowing you to leave, as you bid him a goodbye.

the bell rang, signalling the end of school. you knew that on wednesday’s, jisung would be in the dance hall of the school, practicing his routine for the upcoming showcase. you ran to the hall, hoping he didn’t skip his session, when you were met with jisung, dancing alone. he seemed more sloppy today, as if he wasn’t even trying. it saddened you to see him so down, mainly because you felt it was partially your fault. you knocked on the door, watching as his head spun to face you. his face dropped when he saw you standing there. one thing about jisung, he often gets stubborn when he’s upset.

you place your bag on the ground and make your way towards him. he saw through the mirror that you were standing behind him. he sighed softly before coming to face you. you stepped closer to him, he watched as you wrapped your arms around him without a word. like you already knew how he was feeling. like you already knew he needed this right now.

your embrace made his heart beat faster, which he hoped you hadn’t caught onto. as you pulled away, he gave you a small smile,

“what was that for?”

“for not being a good friend to you” you pouted.

“you weren’t being a good friend? wow you’re making me look like the worst friend ever. i shouldn’t have been so stubborn. i should have just respected your advice, even if it wasn’t what i wanted to hear” jisung embraced you once again, letting you softly rub his back.

“it’s okay, i forgive you. i also heard what happened, did you confess to her?” you spoke, letting him take a moment before responding.

“no i didn’t, i mean. i’m not sure if i ever was going to. i don’t even think i liked her all that much. i just wanted to hear it from you that uh, i should go for her” jisung’s words made you confused as ever.

“what the heck are you talking about?” you crossed your arms.

“i wanted your attention. i guess i wanted you to be, jealous?” as the words left his mouth, you gave him a slight slap on his forearm.

“jisung park, you are the biggest idiot i have ever met!” you couldn’t contain yourself.

“hey! i wanted you to be jealous because well, i” he grabbed your hands before slapping him once more and gripped them firmly.

“i love you” his voice suddenly became quiet. your eyes widened in disbelief.

“you what?!”

“i love you, y/n. okay i tried to ignore it and hide it but i couldn’t. i love you, because you’re the only person who really gets me. you understand the way i think, you don’t let me get my own way sometimes! you’re always there to tell me when i’m doing something stupid! i love you because you always give me the tops of your muffin even though i know you like the tops more than the bottom. i love how, even when we weren’t talking to eachother, you still came to see if i was okay. we just work so well together. we work better together than we do apart and i just want you to hear me say that i love you” his face had turned into a bright pink shade, as his hands became more shaky. you felt tears prickling the sides of your eyes. you let some tears fall before saying,

“jisung, you are so crazy, witty and honestly you’re just such a loser. but i love you for that. you’re not afraid to hide things from me which i have appreciated ever since we’ve became friends. your quirky antics make me laugh until i cry, your dancing amazes me every time i just feel such overwhelming joy for you. you make me smile on all of my bad days, and you have such a way with words i could never compare. we are better together. and i’m so so glad that you finally said this to me. i love you, jisung” you both hadn’t let go of eachother hands, which were probably now really sweaty.

he smiled down at you before pulling you into his chest, your ear hovering over his heart.

“do you feel that? that’s what happens every time i get to hug you” he muffles into your hair. you couldn’t help but smile like an absolute idiot.

“you’re so cheesy” you shook your head in amusement.

“yeah but you love it” he smirked before pulling you from him. you rolled your eyes before looking into his.

it took a moment before he leaned down to hover his lips over yours.

“is it okay if i” he doesn’t finish as you pull him in from his shirt and press your lips together. he let out a small squeak from the sudden movement but melted into the kiss smoothly. his hands made his way to the sides of your face as yours remained on his chest. kissing jisung wasn’t something you had ever thought would actually happen, you didn’t want it to stop. as you both pulled away, you were slightly giggling.

“i really really love you” he mumbled before placing another kiss to your lips.

“i really really love you too” you smiled while playing with his hair.

there was no other way you could have made it here, if it weren’t for jisung. he’s the biggest idiot on the planet, but you loved him. and he loved you.

#park jisung #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct jisung imagine #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream au #nct au #nct fic #nct dream fic #park jisung imagines #nct jisung #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

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kairi-chan · 4 years

Note

Sorry im really bored. Could you give us a glimpse of one your WIPs or next borusara project plz?

Hello, Anon!

Here’s a super rough summary and two snippets of a long-ass one-shot I’m working on. It’s based on my friend’s sister’s current love life. Well, the start of it, at least. Lol!

Title: The Bet

Summary: Sarada knows that she doesn’t need to be in a relationship to be complete. Her best friend doesn’t think so. They make a bet that if Sarada goes on dates, and still doesn’t find the right one, she wins and proves that being single is better and she will never date again. And then she meets Boruto Uzumaki, who apparently has no flaws, and he changes her mind.

Snippet 1, a glimpse of what Sarada is like:

“Sumire!” Sarada turned around and hugged her friend, side-eyeing the guy who was now walking away, looking frustrated. This gave Sarada a little bit more of a ‘pick me up’, and she continued to hug her friend until she perched on the stool next to her. “What happened? You didn’t answer my texts or calls, and you said this was urgent!”

“I know, I know!” The girl was all smiles and waved her hands in front of Sarada’s face. “I’m sorry, I got caught in traffic but—oh my god. You won’t believe it, Sarada!” Sumire squealed, holding on to both sides of her cheeks, barely containing her glee.

That’s when Sarada saw it, a sparkling ring on Sumire’s finger. Her eyes went wide. “Oh no, oh no.” She pulled Sumire’s left hand towards her and there it was: a shiny diamond ring set on a silver band, wrapped around her pretty little ring finger. “You said, yes?”

“Yes!” Sumire beamed. “Oh, Sarada. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Neither can I.” Her face twisted. “Sumire, you’ve only known him for what, three months?”

The girl’s smile melted for a moment, but she quickly put her grin back on. “Yeah, but he’s so nice and I really really like him.”

“Sweetheart— ” Sarada ordered a drink for Sumire and looked at her pointedly. “This guy has snakes for pets and you don’t even know what he does for a living. It’s sketchy!”

Sumire smiled sweetly and held on to Sarada’s hand. “I know you’re worried about me, but believe me: Mitsuki’s the one.”

Sarada swallowed the onslaught of harsh comments along the lines of ‘you can’t marry a man you just met’ lodging in her throat. How could she say those things when her best friend looked at her so sincerely? The spark in Sumire’s eyes was undeniable and it made Sarada sigh in resignation. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.” And she meant that. Sarada placed her other hand on Sumire’s. “But if he breaks your heart, I’m killing him.”

Sumire giggled and squeezed her hand. “That’s a deal! Oh, I’m so excited. His friends are throwing us an engagement party this weekend! Please, please come.”

Snippet 2, BoruSara’s first encounter:

“Sarada, Boruto’s my best friend, and he will be my best man, too,” Mitsuki explained. “Sarada is Sumire’s best friend.”

Sarada took his hand in hers and gave him one of her business handshakes--nice and firm. “Nice to meet you.” Surprisingly, his handshake was also firm, but not painfully so.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, noticing that her hands were empty.

“Yes, please do,” Mitsuki walked around them, holding on to his fiance. “I’ll be right back. Sarada, please enjoy yourself.”

This wasn’t what she expected at all. Sumire was already drunk and was going to be put to bed and now Sarada was being endorsed by a stranger. Despite knowing a few faces in the room, no one looked available enough for her to scurry over to, and maintain a safe distance from anyone else. The blond stood next to her, waiting with a bright smile on his face. “Can be water, or whatever you want, ya know?”

She rolled her eyes, failing to stop the curve on her lips. “What alcohol do they have?” Sarada asked as she walked over to the kitchen.

His eyes widened a bit, and he fell in step with her, filling the space with easy conversation. Sarada listened as her gaze wandered to the counter, skimming the bottle labels, seeing if there was anything she fancied. Even if there was no work the following day, she had no plans to get plastered but a drink after a long day sounded like a good idea.

“Whatever you can think of,” Boruto snickered. “Here, what do you feel like? I’ll make you something.” He walked around the counter, standing across her and washing his hands in the sink. Once he dried them off with a towel, he pulled out a pack of ice from the freezer.

Interesting proposition, she thought and then teased, “I thought you were in sales, I didn’t know you were a bartender, too.”

He shrugged, a curve on his lips. “Just something I picked up and like to do. Do you want something sweet?”

“Do I look like someone who likes sweet things?” Sarada crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, pretending to look offended. When Boruto’s eyes widened, achieving the desired reaction Sarada wanted to illicit, she smirked. “I love sweets. I’ll have whatever you recommend, as long as it’s tequila-based.”

With a sigh of relief and a bright grin on his face, he took the bottle of tequila and a cup. “Yes, ma’am. Right away.”

...

This will probably take me a little longer to write, as I need to get more inspiration from my friend’s older sister, and currently, she has been quiet about the topic. Lol. I also have a lot more WIPs that I’m working on, but The Bet was something I want to write with a little more quality versus my other fics and challenge myself to write it a little nicer. ^^;

Thanks for asking, and I hope this helps ease your boredom, anon! I’m lazy to format it with the italics. LOL. You’ll just have to wait and see it once it’s posted!

I hope you’ve all been staying indoors and staying healthy!

All my love,

Kairi

#borusara #fanfiction #blog #borusara WIP #borusara fic #boruto fanfiction #boruto #sarada #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #borusara fanfic #mitsusumi #mitsuki #sumire

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seraphicwiing · 4 years

Text

Video Analysis #5- CRISIS CORE (The Truth/’You Will Rot’)

Alright folks, the wait is over. As promised, I finally have written up my analysis of this very pivotal point in Sephiroth’s tragic timeline. After all of the posts I have made leading up to this, we have learnt of his compassion, his friendship, his loyalty and his martial prowess. Tonight, we’re going to delve into the start of his madness. Buckle your seatbelts peeps and grab some popcorn, this is gonna be a long one. The clip is 3 minutes long, hopefully the analysis I write doesn’t ramble on for too long. Sit back, relax and enjoy the read! (Also testing out a new format for these types of posts with more structured topics and headings <3)

Context

Before we talk about the scene linked below, we must first talk about the events leading up to Genesis’ being an utter douchebag to his little brother and pulling him further into the madness that would lead to his downfall. Sephiroth and Zack arrive at the Nibelheim reactor and quickly discover that not all is as it seems. The pods containing experiments from past JENOVA projects are revealed to the two SOLDIERS and it begins to make Sephiroth question his entire existence. He had been deprived of the truth his whole life, and even now at the cusp of it all his mind is breaking because he can’t tell what is right and what is wrong anymore. Even with Zack trying to help him, the information thrusted at him is all too much for him to bare.

ShinRa had no idea how fragile Sephiroth’s mental state actually was, nor did they consider the fact that maybe sending Sephiroth to Nibelheim may not be such a good idea considering what was hidden there. But that’s a story for another time, let’s get this started!

‘Am I... A human being?’

Here we begin to see the slow breaking of the once proud hero. The way he says those words, the tone of which he conveys his shock and utter sadness at the fact that the life given to him is most likely nothing more than a fruitless lie. This is such a stark contrast to the Sephiroth we all knew and loved when speaking to his friends in past analysis videos. It hurts a lot more for me since I absolutely adore this character and just hearing him slowly lose his mind really hits me in the gut. After this we see Genesis confirm albeit in the most cruel, heartless and condescending way possible that Sephiroth was an experiment and while Sephiroth really didn’t need to believe a word Genesis said, his psyche had already been broken. All this information being thrown at him is such a huge tidal wave of emotion, it’s no wonder Sephiroth felt overwhelmed.

(“No such luck. You are a monster.” Okay small tangent for a second: Genesis in this scene is doing himself no favours at all. He wants Sephiroth’s help so that he can live right? Why tell him that he’s a monster and droll on and on about how his life was a lie and that his mother wasn’t actually a real human being but an otherworldly cosmic entity AKA a Monster? AND THEN PROCEED TO ASK HIM FOR HELP THINKING THAT HE’LL JUST WILLINGLY ACCEPT? As I told a good friend of mine: Genesis is such an idiot. I AM SORRY GENESIS RPERS OKAY, I LOVE HIS CHARACTER BUT THE WAY HE ACTS IN THIS SCENE IS SO FUCKING DUMB)

Genesis calls Sephiroth the ‘Greatest Monster Created by the Jenova Project’. And this is 100% truth, we’ve all seen just how strong he is, how special Sephiroth is. This is Genesis trying to turn him onto his side by appealing to the monster and detaching him from his human self. But this was a completely wrong way to do it, especially with a fragile mind like Sephiroth’s. He wanted to be human but he knew he somehow wasn’t in a way, he was always detached. And while he always opened up to people in a manner of which was incredibly kind hearted, he always felt like his brith wasn’t normal. Now finding out the truth, he DOES NOT want to be a monster, he DOES NOT want to be considered compartively to the beasts that were in the pods and with Genesis’ continual insistence that Sephiroth is nothing more than a monster, the small rope that was keeping his mind in check was slowly breaking under the large weight of the truth.

‘Poor little Sephiroth. You’ve never actually met your mother.”

Here is where things get super bad for our soon to be psychopath. Genesis throws out all of his cards onto the field, revealing the truth about Sephiroth’s existence and also revealing the truth about his mother: JENOVA. Genesis was right, Sephiroth had no idea who his mother was other than the supposed truths that ShinRa told him. I like to believe that when Sephiroth was growing up, they gave him a forged picture of what his mother looked like AKA JENOVA and from that day onwards, Sephiroth has always conjured that image in his head, that same picture is on his desk back at Shinra HQ and he cherishes it. It makes it hurt so much more watching the scene with this in mind as Genesis further digs into Sephiroth’s heart by mentioning that she was nothing more than a monster and whatever he clung onto was a giant fat lie.

Notice how Sephiroth turns away from Genesis, the natural smile is gone. His stance, his posture has gone. He’s almost lurching forward, his confident strides naught but small steps forward. His eyes are wide and close at times, he is trying so hard to process everything but it’s all coming too fast for him to handle This form of coercion employed by Genesis may have worked on Angeal but Sephiroth? Hell no. It’s also quite amusing that Genesis knocks Sephiroth out of his confused state by calling him by his full title. SOLDIER: 1ST CLASS, SEPHIROTH. He says it similarly to how a general would do a roll call of his cadets before training, and this is literally conveying Genesis’ belief that he is in full control of Sephiroth, he holds the cards, he holds the power over his little brother this time. He believes that Sephiroth will give him what he wants. Little did he know how wrong he would be however.

‘What do you want of me?’

Genesis’ motivations are finally made clear and we learn what makes Sephiroth so special when it comes to the JENOVA Project. We finally learn of the project where Angeal and Genesis originated from as well as the the one where Sephiroth was from. I’ll let Genesis say why in the video becaue he’ll explain it better than I can, I’ll end up butchering it if I tried. Basically what he wants is Sephiroth to share his cells so that he can stop his degradation. He’s slowly dying a painful death and Sephiroth can stop that because his cells have been perfected. Sephiroth has remained quiet this entire time, pondering the truth while Genesis flaps his gums about being saved, he has already made the decision in his head of what he wants to do.

‘The Truth I have sought all my life. You will R O T.’

And here we finally reach the end. Sephiroth with no remorde left in his heart, his mind deadset on now learning the truth of his birth, denies and what I believe he also does is disown Genesis as a friend and brother. All the memories they shared, all the times they recited and enacted ‘Loveless’ together with Angeal, all of that is now dust in the wind. His expression, the deadpan stare that he gives Genesis is a lot more similar to the evil Sephiroth scowl we all know and love. The way in which he speaks, gone is the relatively light hearted, dry humoured tone of the hero that everyone looked up too when trying to become a soldier. No, he speaks with rage and grief in his tongue. He is legitimately torn asunder after the revalation. Whether it be lie or truth that came from Genesis, he’s done with his brother. Their friendhip is over. And at last, he delivers probably the most scathing, delicious and satisfying burns in Final Fantasy. Not only does he reject Genesis, he literally tells him to ROT. To DECAY! He tells Genesis in the most fitting way to just ‘GO DIE’. ‘THEN PERISH’. It’s one of my favourite insults in Final Fantasy ever. It’s nice to see the sarcastic wit hadn’t died with Sephiroth’s kind hearted nature.

The scene ends with Sephiroth heading to ShinRa Manor to find further information of his existence while Genesis is left at the reactor. The closing words being: ‘ I see, perfect monter indeed...’. Genesis was actually surprised when Sephiroth denied him, it was quite a priceless reaction if I do say so myself.

I guess this is a fitting way to conclude with a very salty Genesis and a very angy Sephiroth. I want to thank you all for sticking with it this far I know this was a lot longer than normal but there was so much information to digest. I hope I didn’t waffle or state anything that was super obvious from the clip. This’ll probably be the last one for a while as this definitely took a lot of steam out of me. But yes, I’m glad so many of you enjoy this, if you have any scene requests that you'd want to see me have a shot at IM me <3

#;— WITHIN THE LIFESTREAM (ooc)#;— LEO'S VIDEO ANALYSIS

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emotionalgirl101 · 5 years

Text

Question | Chapter 5

Words: 2,046

Genre: college au, angst, fluff

Pairing: SKZ x reader

Summary: Your best friend, Minho, had been refusing to introduce you to his other group of best friends for months now, with no explanation as to why. One night after getting drunk after work together, he gave in to your pleas. Oops.

Warning: Contains mature content (such as coarse language, violent themes, etc).

A/N: So the fact that I wrote the last one quickly kinda cursed me. I saw Stray Kids in Melbourne on February 21st. It was, without exaggeration, one of the best experiences in my life. Many firsts, like flying interstate alone, going to a concert alone, first Kpop concert, first hi-touch, etc. I met the most amazing people that adopted me and I’m so grateful! STAY is truly the nicest fandom🥰 and SWERVED👏🏻SO👏🏻FREAKING👏🏻HARD👏🏻 - Im honestly still in denial. This is dedicated to all my STAYs from the SKZ Aus page and my online STAY mutuals x

P.s. Eunwoo as in Pristin Eunwoo~~ I promise these chapters are necessary!

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You just could not escape these boys. It was like an omen of some kind. Good or bad, you weren’t sure, but the fact you didn’t go a day in the week without seeing one of your best friend’s roommates seemed like less of a coincidence. After seeing Chan on Monday and Woojin on Tuesday, you had only expected to see one person you knew today; Eunwoo.

You guys had become friends around the same time you had met Minho. The only difference was the class you met in and the fact that Eunwoo actually knew what was going on more than half the time. Lucky you so happened to sit next to her that first day. You learnt after a project you decided to collaborate on that you had accidentally become best friends. You were more than satisfied. A year down the track, and you learnt that Eunwoo and Minho were all you needed.

Eunwoo had decided to coax you out of your apartment for several reasons, the main one being that you needed to by Rena’s birthday present. You had met Eunwoo’s group of friends only a month or so down the line. You loved Rena, but you were practically inseparable from Eunwoo.

You were dressed, but barely awake, when you heard a knock at the door. You sacrificed breakfast in order to get another 10 minutes sleep. Something Eunwoo had anticipated, holding a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, when you answered the door. You could smell the fresh chocolate croissant from the door way.

“Good morning!” She eagerly cheered. She alternated lifting her hands slightly, left than right, indicating you to make your choice. Food won. You could always grab something to drink later in the day. Side stepping to let her in, Eunwoo strutted into your apartment, feeling as comfortable as she did in her own home.

You were a little jealous of how well put together she always managed to look. Makeup flawless, hair as smooth as silk, and a consistently bright demeanour, She was wearing a cropped, long sleeve tee. The black stripes horizontal, to synch in her waist. She paired it with a black skater skirt, and a tan winter coat. Her hair was in loose curls and the blonde strands still carrying a peach hue. A loose beret adorned her head. Black heeled boots and a designer bag dangling from the crook of her arm.

You close the door and head to the the kitchen counter. Eunwoo was already a step ahead of you. The unravel the package ungracefully, mumbling a ‘thank you’ after you take your first bite. She just giggled at you. “Welcome!~”

“Okay, first things first. Game plan.” Eunwoo was a master at shopping for gifts, the shopping part at least. She was just as indecisive and doubtful in her choices as you were. She brought out a folded receipt, her list on the back of it. You leaned into one another, mapping out your day. “Hit theses three places first. If no luck, we can go to this cute store on the second floor. Then, stop for coffee and a catch up at this cafe. Then continue to these to.” She barely breathed when running through the schedule.

“And if all else fails?” You turned to her, an eyebrow slightly raised. You smile at each other. A cluster of giggles escape between the two of you after you say ‘gift card’ in unison.

You had been to the first three stores without success. The first store had some nice statement pieces, but nothing that you unanimously felt Rena would choose on her own. The second store was a completely different vibe. You found too many things you thought she would like, but it was wrong for factors like having an odd detail that wouldn’t suit her, or a colour that wouldn’t match her skin tone, or she had something similar, if not identical.

Store 3 wasn’t clothing. Eunwoo had misinterpreted the name, and it ended up being a kids store. You would’ve loved to see the reaction of on-lookers. The confusion on your faces, the short look exchanged, and the laughter would’ve been a sight. They’d think you were delusional, which was definitely possible at this stage. You had spent hours that you didn’t necessarily want to spare.

“Okay, so the fourth place is closed.” Eunwoo deadpanned as you reached the foot of the entrance. “Figures.” You sighed. Eunwoo turned to you, a twinkle returning to her chocolate eyes. “Coffee?” You smiled in hand with a repeat of ‘coffee’ to confirm.

You walked to the coffee shop after reaching the bottom level of the shopping centre. Eunwoo opened the door after exclaiming how cute she found the pastel themed café. She lead the way to a quaint table against the far window, with a small pot plant centrepiece attracting her attention. She offered to order drinks for the both of you, previously deciding to share a slice of cake in the way to your current location.

You fished out your phone, which lacked any notifications to your irritation. You settled with scrolling through your newsfeed. You felt a waiter walk past you, almost, but then backtrack. You weren’t interested in looking up, guessing whoever it was had found something interesting going on on the other side of the glass beside you.

“Y/n?” The figure voiced. Now you had to look up. To your delighted surprised, your eyes met the soft smile of Hyunjin. “How’s it going?” His face changed to a genuine smile, quickly taking Eunwoo’s abandon seat. You were too happy to talk to the boy. He seemed so bright and bubbly the other night. From what you remembered, at least. “Really good, actually. The week off and hangover free.” You beamed, before returning the question in the younger’s direction.

“Yeah, really good.” Nodding once with enthusiasm, and leaning back into the chair as he continued. “Working every so often. You should’ve seen Felix after you left. It was hilarious.” At the words, the glint in his eye and the tone of his voice both changed to convey mischief. Felix had slept through practically the whole day, to your knowledge. He was still passed out from the night when you left that afternoon. “I’m guessing he remembered nothing? He didn’t do anything bad, anyway, though.”

Hyunjin smirked at your words, elbows return to the table, and an ever so slightly hushed voice hummed out the following words. “But he didn’t know that.” You cottoned on immediately. “What did you tell him?” You were leaning back, arms folded and ears perked.

Hyunjin feigned hurt at such an accusation, a pout replacing his smirk. “Me? I did nothing… “It was Jeongin and Seungmin, wasn’t it?” He smiled. You had your answer. “That poor boy…” You ran a hand through your hair, trailing off as if you were pulling away your words with the fingers laced in your strands. Almost as quickly, you snapped back to Hyunjin’s gaze, mirroring his posture on the table. “Tell me everything.” You cheekily beamed.

The excitement at divulging the information was failed to be hidden in Hyunjin’s body language. “Okay, so first Jeongin told him that he broke Changbin’s headphones.”

“Oooh..” You could just feel the pain of the thought as if it was a hit in the stomach. “He would’ve felt so guilty…” Realisation then washed over you, Hyunjin regaining your attention. “You said ‘firstly’. What else did you con him in to thinking?”

“Seungmin asked if he remembered meeting you. He nodded, but you should’ve seen the colour drain from his face.” You mumbled an ‘uh oh’ at the fact you were somehow wrapped up in all this without even being present at the time. “Seungmin said he admitted he found you attractive and proceeded to try to find an excuse to kiss you.” Shaking your head, “How did he take that?”

“He. Was. Mortified.” Hyunjin had no ounce of sympathy in his voice, a cheeky grin still painted on his rosy lips. “He told him he managed to kiss your cheek when you went to bed.” You were confused at where he was going with this. “That’s not so bad.”

“Until Jeongin told him that Minho planned to murder him in his sleep until Chan stopped him. He avoided Minho for two days!” You both burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, because Minho would’ve been at work when Felix woke up…” The genius of the Maknae dawning on you.

“That’s not even the best part.” Hyunjin continued. You’re brows indicated your confusion. “Minho had no clue what was going on. So he had no clue why every time he tried to talk to Felix, Felix ran away or found an excuse to leave the room.” You both laughed. You could picture that cute, confused expression on Minho’s face without trouble. You had seen it so many times, even having it as your wallpaper on your phone at one point.

“That’s perfect.” You mused. “Did Felix figure out it was all fake?” Hyunjin snickered at your words. “This morning, yeah.” You were practically in tears. Part of you felt bad for the kid, but the opportunity was too perfect to waste. “Go maknaes!” You cheered.

“Alrighty. It was good to chat, but I probably should go check on Jeongin. He’s probably broken the coffee machine or something.” He stood from the chair. “Wait. Jeongin works here, too? I thought he didn’t have a job.” You were trying to put two and two together when Hyunjin put you out of your misery. “He only just got the job. He started today, and I’m having to mentor him.” A playful eye roll following his words.

“Sucks being the smart one, doesn’t it?” You smirked at him. “You bet.” A light chuckle followed. “Want me to tell him you’re here?” He offered, but an idea had bloomed in your mind, so you let him in on your plan. “Don’t say anything. Just send him over with our order and I’ll hide my face til he comes over. It’s the one ordered by the girl in the striped shirt.” Hyunjin followed the gesture of your finger, turning back to you, smiling. “As you wish.” He winked. He was gone.

Eunwoo returned with a slice of chocolate cheese cake and a raised eyebrow. “Was the barista trying to pick you up, or something?” You couldn’t contain your laugh at the distain she held in her voice. “Okay, I guess he’s cute.” She sighed and sinked into her seat. The plate took its home on the wooden table, and you each grabbed a small fork to start devouring it. “So?” Eunwoo prided at you, before shovelling the sliver into her mouth. Her eyes looking at you expectantly.

You giggled again, hand covering your mouth so it at least looked like you had some sort of table manners. “He’s Minho’s roommate, Hyunjin. I went over the other night and met them all. One of the guys got drunk and forgot everything, so they tricked him into believing he did all this stuff.” Eunwoo nodded, but you weren’t able to tell if it was from enjoying the food or if she was satisfied with your story. She swallowed. “Fair enough.” The weird expression returned to her face, as she notice you digging at your shared slice with the fork in your left hand. “And why are you covering your face?”

You smiled cheekily, which got Eunwoo’s full attention. “The youngest roommate just got a job here, and he doesn’t know I’m here, so we came up with a plan to surprise him.” Eunwoo gave a small smile at that. “That’s cute.” Her head snapped up and to your right as you both heard foot steps approaching. With a quick look back at you, she winked, and let her eyes settle back on the nervous boy carrying a tray of drinks in his hands.

“One iced coffee?” Jeongin’s voice was slightly shaky. He was masking his nerves well. Eunwoo tentatively raised her hand as he place her order in front of her. Without another word, he placed the second drink in front of you. Then his eyes flickered to your face.

“Noona?” He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face as his jaw fell slack. You chuckled a bit and asked, “How’s your first day going?” He regained his composure, beaming down at you. “Good! Did Hyunjin hyung see you? He didn’t tell me you were here.” You and Eunwoo burst into giggles, glancing from the boy and back to each other. “She asked him not to.” Eunwoo looked at you, leaning on the table and her chin resting in the palm of her hand. It didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin from across the café. “He told me about the prank you guys pulled on Felix.” He smiled cheekily, “What do you think?” He waited for your answer in anticipation. “I just wish I could’ve played along”. Eunwoo rolled her eyes at your antics, but you knew she’d want in on it, too. After all, she loved surprising people.

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buttercuppete · 5 years

Text

tucked in [peter parker]

spiderman stumbles upon you failing to pull an all nighter for your final [2.3k words]

warnings: none, all fluff

a/n: this is the first fic im posting im sorry for typos and errors aa

One would have thought that Spiderman would immediately retire to his home after his nightly escapades of keeping a safe neighborhood. This was partly true, concerning that he was a superhero by day and genius student by night, but he rarely ever came back to his own home to relax. Today, just like most days, Peter was tiptoeing at the sides of a certain apartment complex, his sight aimed at the second window from the left.

It was such a common occurrence for him to be sneaking into this specific window that anyone who was watching could probably presume that he lived there. This was not fact - he only found comfort in taking nightly visits to one of his best friends.

As much as Peter enjoyed taking the piss out of you by surprising you, he still had some morsel of integrity in him to always message you before he would sneak in. Though it would’ve been an interesting sight, he didn’t want to end up seeing anything beyond his or your boundaries.

It was almost two in the morning when he finally finished up with his vigilante routine and daily report, which was nearly three hours after the usual time he came. His squashed sandwiches were long consumed, and he had a few cuts and scratches to tend to. He almost decided against coming over to your apartment tonight, but god knew he needed some sort of blessing to make his night. And unsurprisingly, that blessing was consistently you.

Parker had checked his phone prior to arriving at your complex, considering that it had vibrated in the middle of his brawl with a convenience store burglar. A few reactions to his new story, some messages from his project group chats, and a missed video call from Ned - yet he couldn't help singling out a certain message that came from you.

you like hot choc n cheese pizza ?

It was sent five hours ago, which promptly sent him into a flushed frenzy. He didn't even bother sending back a reply, but clumsily shoved his phone back in his backpack and swung around downtown to get to you asap.

It seemed quite off-putting to Parker that your lights were still on at this hour. For a moment, he thought that something had happened to you, and his little heart jumped in immediate panic. With a peek at your window, his fears were well buried by the fact that you were leaning over a stack of papers on your desk.

With one quick motion, he was easily able to slip into your room without any noise. He had planned to crawl on the ceiling and surprise you, but upon closer inspection, he noticed that your head was resting against your forearms and the slow and gentle rising and falling of your shoulders. The absence of some snarky remark or a flat, exasperated sigh that normally came from your awareness of his presence signified to him that you were asleep.

If he wasn’t the typical Peter Parker, he would’ve cooed at how cute, even adorable, you looked. But he was, and he couldn’t stop himself from feeling heavy hearted at how tired you probably were. Scattered around your form were papers full of notes and graphs in various ink, almost two to three math textbooks filled with post-its, and several pre-calc quizzes similar to his own. It hit him that for the past few days, you had especially been worried about the upcoming math final to the point that you regularly skipped on movie and lego dates with MJ, Ned, and him to study. He always knew you were extremely hardworking and always liked coming out on top, but sometimes you went too far and pushed yourself too much. The last two days he had visited, he could barely squeeze in a conversation between your constant scribbling and typing.

It kind of made him happy to finally see you rest up.

“Hey, are you asleep?”

He almost cracked a laugh from how stupid he sounded. It was probably ridiculous for him to be asking you when you were obviously sleeping, but he just wanted to make sure.

He took a few moments to compose himself, pulling his mask off and taking a seat at the edge of your bed. Parker then took the liberty to examine your room more, eyes trailing from your black and white checkered duvet to the painting-filled walls, to your prized collection of finished remade-into-lego wonders of the world, then back to your desk. This time, his eyes landed on two distinct things - that while you were sleeping, you still had a bright yellow highlighter in your hand which bled plentiful on your notebook, and that there were two pairs of mugs and plates on the table. And with connecting two and two together, he could already assume that it was what you had asked him earlier - homemade hot chocolate and cheese pizza.

It tugged at his heartstrings a little when he saw that neither of the hot choco and plates had been consumed, which, in his head, translated into you waiting for him to swing by before taking a bite or sip. To be fair, he was true to an extent.

Whenever Peter slipped in your room at night, he usually stole away at your secret stash of chips not only to bide some time, but also to catch up on his very late dinner. You knew his superhero lifestyle wasn’t exactly the healthiest, and he had been so kind to you lately, so you wanted to pay him back with a kind gesture.

[If you were being honest with yourself, you’ve already been leaving food out for him. The drawer for your secret stash didn’t leave itself ajar, after all.]

Peter loved your hot chocolate recipe. It was a lovely concoction of lukewarm cocoa and milk that complemented the big marshmallows that floated atop. He didn’t hesitate to take a big gulp of what he assumed was his mug, which had an endearing, kiddy Spiderman design at its front. The taste engulfed him like a tight hug, and he ended up nearly finishing the whole drink within a minute. It didn't initially strike him that he was this hungry.

After he devoured a big bite of the cheese pizza, he observed your sleeping figure with utmost silence, unconsciously taking note of your soft and patterned breaths. For a moment, your breathing stopped, and he nearly jumped from your sudden movement. He thought that you had woken up from his movement, but it turns out you had only changed your position by twisting your head to the right.

...Which meant that you were facing right at him, your lips slightly parted and messy hair and all.

If only you were awake, you would have caught sight of a wild Peter Parker blushing the brightest red. Fortunately for him, you weren't, and he was able to contain himself from showing anymore signs of flustered. It took a few minutes for him to compose himself, because staring at how peaceful and heavenly you looked whilst having a tiny crush on you did not help in the slightest. He couldn't help it, though. There was a reason why he kept on coming over even though you never asked him to.

And there must be a reason as to why you never stopped him.

Parker could stay amazed at how soft you looked all night, but something, for whatever reason, felt wrong to him. It was only with enough observance that your eyebrows slowly started to furrow inwards. Perhaps it was his spidey sense telling him that something was wrong, but he was unsure if that kind of power applied to more mundane situations. Either way, his internal qualms were squashed by the fact that you started shifting in your seat, grunting and huffing. Clearly, you were uncomfortable.

Peter Parker didn't want you to be uncomfortable.

No one would, really. But the next thing he knew, his arms were already placing themselves just below the creases of your knees and the small of your back, lifting you up from the terrible bed of a wooden chair. His mind was buzzing with all sorts of thoughts: I can't believe I'm doing this, I’m totally going to wake you up, good god you're so pretty, I kind of want to kiss you, but you're asleep. The noise in his brain was so loud that he failed to recognize the yellow highlighter you were holding dropping to the carpet, and that he nearly tripped on it. Thank God he wasn't dumb enough to do so, but it still woke you up.

Well, kind of.

You were in an odd, hazy state. The only thing you could see was the bottom angle of Peter's face, and you immediately cracked a smile. He looked at you, horrified for a quick second, expecting you to be annoyed at him for making a commotion. When all you gave him was a big, crescent-moon-eye-smile, it became clear that you weren’t exactly in the most conscious state.

“Parker! You pervert,” you say in an unnaturally loud voice, “look at you, sneaking into girls’ bedrooms at night.”

He panicked, shushing you. God knows what he would do if your parents suddenly busted into the room, and what interrogation he would receive upon being seen carrying you. He found it a little funny with how your words were slightly slurred and how you talked even with a large kindergartener-esque grin.

“For your information, I literally sneak only into one girl's bedroom every night,” he huffed, laying you down on the soft surface of your duvet. “And that's you.”

“Aw, that’s pretty nice of you, Spiderman.”

He giggled at the manner of how you garbled, lids just half closed from how sleepy you still were. It was probably a given that you weren’t conscious to fully understand what was going on, and it was so tempting to fool around with your current state [in the most appropriate context]. And although Peter Parker could be a ridiculous asshole sometimes, he was one who was deeply in love with you.

You cozied up under the blanket he tucked you in, resting half of your face under the soft material. Peter watched your eyes instinctively closes at its fluffiness, and his heart instantly clenched as a reaction.

“You comfy?”

You nodded fervently, eyes opening and fixating on Peter. He had a small smile on his lips, as he tugged on the edges of the blanket so you were fully covered.

In some crook of Peter Parker’s teenage brain, he felt a little tempted to take some photos of you as blackmail to tease you about, but he was much more content with your soft, drowsy form. He couldn’t help feeling sleepy himself, thus promptly yawning as he tucked you in.

“Did you see the hot chocolate?”

“I did, it was really good.”

You smiled. “Okay, I made sure to make it extra chocolate-y, just for you.”

Although your eyes were closed, Peter’s cheeks flushed involuntarily. “Just for me?”

“Of course.”

As if it was an instinct, he mimicked you by silently mouthing your small ‘of course,’ with the tip of his nose wildly turning a violent red.

You always, in some way, sent his heart into a frenzy. He preferred to chalk it up to you being charming, even though in the back of his head, his undeniably massive crush on you was probably the reason. Maybe he could’ve gushed over you a little more, but as he saw you yawning for a second time, he realized that he was pretty drowsy himself.

Your eyes opened slightly, catching sight of a sleepy Peter Parker, his jaw mid-open from his yawn. Out of whatever pity was in your heart, your hand poked out of the nearest end of the blanket and clung onto his Spidey suit.

“What's wrong?” Peter mumbled with incredible delicacy, as if any louder would upset your environment.

“Nothing, I know you’re sleepy.”

It was silent for a second, but he immediately began spouting bouts of denial, saying that it was just a long night and that he would prefer to be with you. Half of it fell out of your opposite ear because you wanted him to rest too, but the other half you carefully listened to. Maybe Peter would forget all the things he said to you tonight, but it made you feel like he valued you more than a friend would.

“- well, you know, being a good friend, I’m kind of concerned for you, okay? You study real hard and you gotta rest-”

“Superheroes deserve sleep too,” you argued, voice still under a whisper.

He opened his mouth to bite back, but he closed it anyway with the fact that you were completely right. He was tired out of his damn mind.

“And with a loud ass voice like yours, I bet my mom would come marching in.”

There was some part in your body that could sense him suppressing a laugh not only out of fear, but also out of the fact that you were, again, entirely correct.

Peter decided to follow. He revelled in the fact that you cared for him deeply, and allowed himself to lean in closer to you, hand caressing yet barely touching the top of your head. A sweet and quick goodnight from Peter Parker was whispered in your ear after a few strokes of your hair, followed by light footsteps leading in the direction of your bedroom window. You heard the sound of the window slowly sliding up from its hatch, and suddenly, you missed Peter's touch.

“Sweet dreams, Spiderman.”

[You’d like to think that he was out of the room before you muttered it, but Peter heard everything.]

#peter parker #spiderman #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman oneshot #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #mcu imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #reader insert #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #mcu fic #sorry for this aah

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xradinoxinterloperx · 4 years

Text

Vs Cp2 - Trip off (draft teaser)

Roughly translated English fragment of the beggining of the second chapter im writting in my Vaggie centred fanfic.

Characters: Angel Dust, Niffty, Vaggie. Alastor, Charlie (minor appearences)

- What horse crap is this! - Angel complained- the interhell (Internet) also exists down here for something, ya know? i never agreed to this.

-Come on, it's just hand out some papers, we're not asking much of you! - Vaggie answered by his side trying not to lose his composure .

a speeding car in a corner flew one of the papers on Angel’s face and worse, splashed him with water from the drains. Vaggie evaded spatter receding, Niffty, who was also with them, jumped aside to grab the papers she was carrying so that they also did not fly away, evading the water by chance and lack of height.

The spider growled hysterically, taking out a paper from his face then curshing it in his hand

- This stinks ...

Niffty looked at him containing herself, although her legs and arms were shaking. Charlie had friendely nag her several times when she throw herself on top of any guest or hotel member to remove any small stain or crumbs that she noticed on their clothes or body. Considering that, slowly the little cyclops took out a white handkerchief and asked calmly, almost shy .

- Oh, Angel, do you need me to clean you a little?

- If you want, I don't think you do much with…. Hey wait!

Niffty had thrown herself on him and rubbed him frantically, causing the spider to barely stand by the tickling. When Niffty reacted and stopped, Angel was as clean as before being splashed and Niffty's handkerchief was absolutely brown.

- Oh, I'm sorry - The little girl apologized.

Angel looked surprised and just ended up combing his hair a bit.

-Mmm ... I can't complain about the results ... Thanks honey. - Angel rubbed the head of Niffty who smiled at her with all her teeth back satisfied with herself. Vaggie also smiled a little behind them, then cleared her voice.

- Well, let's continue with this, the sooner we finish with this pamphlets, tickets and lists, the better for everyone.

Angel eyerolled resignedly and followed.

The Organization for the meeting and presentation at the hotel continued. First Charlie and Alastor had dreamed big about making it open to everyone, but soon Vaggie made them realize that something so public could be too chaotic and uncomfortable. Something The Overlords that had agreed to go (Mainly Stolas, and other feathered ones, plus Lucifer) might find unpleasant. And annoying the "Nobility" of hell could not only cause things to fail, but that the people who attended were at risk of dying.

So they had decided that the assistance will be based on limited tickets or quota lists that will be distributed to some key sites in the city for those interested. Alastor had insisted that they be tickets, pamphlets and conventional tickets, even if it was outdated, for several reasons. First because the digital media were influenced and monitored by the Overlord Vox, who could intrude on or sabotage anything digitally published, even more being a rival of Alastor himself. When everyone commented that they could probably easily damage the papers they distributed as well, Alastor said that it would make the papers not so easy to break and that even if they discarded most of the papers distributed, then the people who would come would be the one really interested or as he remarked , "Desperate enough to come," and that he would make sure, that those who will sign the ticket lists really "would" come. Vaggie understood that as something related to his powers and his reputation as a deal maker, probably his powers would force the ones enrolled to attend.

She was not 100% sure of any of this, or the way to attract public or the meeting itself, but without better ideas, she did not oppose. Again, more than anything she did this for Charlie. After all, what was the great presentation they would make at the hotel? They honestly had no results yet to surprise anyone. But Charlie was already rehearsing a speech for presentations with Alastor, and she seemed to think she would do better than the first time in her presentation at the news station with Katie Killjoy. Vaggie supported her mainly for another reason, because Charlie would see her parents again, whose relationship had been deteriorating due to their absence for a long time now. Although Lilith had said to support that her daughter had initiative with her idea of the hotel. After giving them that old building, she had known little more about her or Lucifer.

On hard days and nights where things were not going well, and even Charlie's mood could not cope with everything, sometimes she realized that The Princess was hiding or leaving the hotel, only to find a corner where to call her mother secretly . And for a long time it seemed that most of the time Lilith seemed not to answer her and not return calls. Then, Charlie had to gather the little mood she had to at least console herself by leaving a presentable voice message to her mother, telling something that especially bothered her but always wanting to pretend that she would get over it anyway and that everything was going well. Before the Last time, when Vaggie asked, Charlie had even lied to her, pretending she had talked to her mother on the phone. She knew Charlie didn't do it with bad intention, I did it because I didn't want to feel weak and useless in revealing being ignored. She felt guilty for the rejection she felt. The last one had been even worse, she had listened to her, running the water to cover his sobs and trying unsuccessfully to leave a message, 2 or 3 times ... Until she broke and resigned. She had not been able to bear it and had entered the bathroom just to hug her, to repeat her tiressly "It's not your fault, You're not a failure." Seeing her like this broke her heart, so she understood how important this reunion would be at the party for her. She would have bet that Zaza would know what to say, to overcome and not suffer so much the shadow of her parents, if only Charlie knew her and grow fond of her.

Now, while that memory crossed her mind, Vaggie approached with the remaining tickets, lists and pamphlets near the bar "Los Condenados." In the following days she had not had the opportunity to go back to the bar, although Charlie had shown interest in meeting the place. Surely Zaza, Vic and company would agree to go to the meeting and behave. The Moth Demon approached the place, it was about 5 p.m. on the clock in hell. The Bar sign moved slightly as usual, but the site was silent and there was no one, it was closed. They should open only at dusk. She approached the door anyway, and ran under it some of her papers, optimistic. A voice behind her surprised her.

-¿Que Hacés?

The imposing and elongated figure of Maria was behind her, carrying market bags in 4 of her 6 arms, her long serpentine body stretching down the steps leading to the entrance.

-Oh. hola Maria- Greeted Vaggie.

Maria watched her be, tilting her head aside for a moment, until finally recognizing her.

- Oh, it's you.- she said not very sure- Vic's friend, mmm ... Vac, Vig ...

- Vaggie ... - she clarified in a good mood.

- Yes, sorry. What are you doing here? We don't open until later. - Maria said in her neutral tone and straight to the point.

- Yes, I imagined, but hey, I thought maybe Zaza would be interested in giving some of these for me - Vaggie said approaching and offering her the pamphlest, having to stretch and make the Serpent lean down to take it, seeing that her 4 lower arms were occupied with the bags.

Maria took a quick look. Vaggie offered help with a bag but the huge demon denied carefree, Vaggie continued explaining.

It is an event that we will do, nothing too big, but it will be a presentation of the project we have, and we will accept certain amount of Invited Guest. Maybe they want to come, we have a good lobby and bar to hang out, it will be fun with Zaza and Vic there.

Maria smiled a little looking at the paper. Vaggie felt somewhat beaten when she felt a hint of irony in her smirk smile, but at least she wasn't laughing, throwing the papaers out or making fun of them like most places they were tyring to deliver the papers.

- Well, it will surely be something interesting, but I don't know how lucky you are with us. The Bar opens every day and Vic left the city again, I don't know for so long.

Vaggie couldn't help looking down with some discouragement.

-Oh ...

Maria encouraged her by speaking somewhat condescending.

- But fear not, I will accept some tickets and that list. Zaza sure will leave them in sight, although I cannot assure you that our clientele will be interested in this.

- I would really appreciate that Maria, Muchas Gracias.

- No Hay de que. Zaza is also shopping for the bar, Otherwise I would tell you to wait for her, she would love to see you. Let's see when you come with us again.

Vaggie appreciated the gesture of the imposing Bouncer. They shared a few more positive words before Vaggie said goodbye to the reserved Maria. A shame not to have shared a little more time in the bar, she really wish for that today. Spreading the pamphlets, tickets and lists had been a challenge, and even a test of temper and redemption for the trio. Most sinful demons still gave a damn about the hotel and its cause. Some of them directly did not even let the pamphlets hang because in the proximity of their home or bussines, or they would use them as toilet paper. In some places where they were distributed, then they saw them flying through the streets almost minutes after leaving them there. It was frustrating, but Vaggie noticed something hopeful in all that boomer. While she was collecting thrown tickets, she saw people in the alleys, the poorest and most miserable ragged demons, take some of the thrown tickets. Hell was no place for weakness and perhaps the most miserable would be the most suitable to accept at the meeting, although perhaps they would have to be separated from the VIPS and only went for food, what would be more redeeming than taking the most helpless demons ? She hated to admit it but Alastor was right about that of the most Desperate biting the hook.

Even going down the steps near the bar, Vaggie thought about where to start looking for her other two companions, she didn't see them for a long time when they separated. Surprisingly she found Niffty not far from where she was and apparently free of his papers.

-Niffty! - she smiled surprised - you have no papers left?

The last time she had seen her, Niffty had had the great idea of using her small size and speed for, seeing that no one would take the papers from her hands even if she offered them to screams, just run around people without being noticed, and leave the tickets and pamphlets in their pockets, clothes, hair, ears, mouths, stick pamphlets on their backs without being noticed and things like that, although it had not always worked out well.

- Yeap!, Angel had a very good idea of how to make demons take the tickets and he already gave all that I had left! Now he is with the rest.

Vaggie grimaced not very convinced, a "Oh No" was already ringing in her head, thinking what madness would the spider had planned. And it would always be something worse than she could imagine.

In a corner of one of the main streets, wagging and lifting the short dress and flirting provocatively. A spider with long white hair and exquisite makeup was offering to those who passed, with a sign next to it that said "Take a ticket and have a sample of Angel Sugar" The Premise was simple, Angel had the tickets hidden in different parts of his body, and whoever wanted to touch for free had to accept one of the papers. The thing had gone very well since every pervert that happened to pass by did take one and most seemed to be complying with the premise, at least for now. Like Drag Queen, Angel was giving a pretty effective show, although he had to put some idiot in their place ...

- ANGEL WHAT THE FUCK? - Roared Vaggie clenching her teeth and with her eye on fire. The spider got distracted and turned. Niffty looked all innocent next to Vaggie.

- What Toots? is working, you told me we had to be witty, right? And I know what people want... - said the spider taking the fur that made up his colorful breasts.

. YOU'RE NOT GIVING TICKETS FOR A FUCKING CABARET!

- Oh, quit yapping...

While Angel turned from his view to the street to talk to Vaggie, a colorful pink limousine parked behind him on the side of the street.

- ... Maybe if you showed a little sugar you would also do better, I could show you how ...

Before Angel could react, one of the car's windows came down and one hand took an arm of the spider , immediately the car would start speeding dragging Angel with him.

- Angel! - Vaggie shouted helplessly, while the car accelerated down the street.

The Strong arm dragged Angel inside, in the sudden movement he finished with his wig covering his eyes.

-Hey! What the fuck is going on? - Angel exclaimed until he could finally tear off his wig and look around.

In front of him, with his intimidating face and looking angrily at him, he recognized his "Boss".

Valentino ... - he suddenly exclaimed calming his tone.

The Pimp only responded by frowning more, with his arms crossed.

- Hello Angie. - A sweet girly voice beside him exclaimed taking one of his arms

Angel opened his eyes wide.

Velvet? - He said after seeing the dark and cunning face of the smiling Overlord, immediately noticed his own voice and smiled -... dear ...

#hazbin hotel #hazbin ocs #hazbin hotel fanfic #angel #niffty #vaggie #angel fanfic #hazbin fanfic

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you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus · 5 years

Text

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 19: Verklempt

Word Count: 3134

Read on AO3

Game day. The energy was contagious, and everyone was pumped to watch Buffy play. Especially Marty.

“Oh, dude, it’s going to be so great!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, “I’m so excited,” he noted, as they walked towards the building, their friends behind them.

“Isn’t it weird that we were all partners for this journalism assignment, and we, like, got together,” Amber pointed out, stealing a quick glance at Andi.

“I think this project, just like, brought us closer,” Jonah piped up, a soft smile on his face.

“I really liked it, like a lot. Definitely want to go into journalism now,” Cyrus confirmed. He couldn’t even imagine dropping the class like he’d previously said.

“Why? So you can write ‘I love TJ’ over and over again and call that an article?” Amber teased, laughing at her own joke.

“Oh, c’mon, you love him too,” Cyrus countered, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze.

“Not as much as I love Andi,” she chuckled, linking arms with her girlfriend.

A chorus of ‘aw’s filled the air, and even the trees seemed to be happy, their leaves dancing in the gentle wind. TJ just rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath.

“She’s kidding, she loves you,” Cyrus assured him, “we all do,”

“I know,”

“Let’s go Buffy!” Marty shouted, sans megaphone. Cyrus had offered him one, but after hearing how loud he could really be, he decided that he didn’t need one.

TJ had brought the posters they made. Cyrus’ said ‘YOU CAN’T OUT TUFF THE BUFF’, while TJ’s said ‘SLAYER IS THE BEST PLAYER’. He was really happy with how they turned out, after having TJ write the words.

TJ took a look around. He didn’t recognize anyone there, save for Buffy. He supposed that was what happened when it was a summer team. New friends.

The game had barely started, and Cyrus was already on the edge of his seat. He’d put his sign down after a little while, considering his arms got tired, and reached over to take TJ’s hand. He never thought he’d get to have a simple moment like this. Even surrounded by all these people, it still felt like it was just him and TJ.

“Snacks, anyone? Get your snacks here,” a man shouted, carrying a platter that was strapped around his neck. There was an assortment of pretzels, cotton candy, lemonade, and other things to munch on.

“Yeah, over here!” TJ waved him over, eyeing the cotton candy.

The man stepped over a few people, nearly dropping a container of lemonade on the way there. Scooting through a few pairs of legs, he finally made his way towards TJ and Cyrus. “So what can I get-” he stopped, eyes hardening. Cyrus knitted his brows together, following his gaze. It appeared that he was looking at their hands, but he couldn’t tell.

“-I’m sorry, I can’t,” he shook his head, taking a step back. He looked like he was going to be sick, from what Cyrus could tell.

“Can’t what?” Cyrus asked, shouting over all the cheering.

“You guys are, you know. . .together,” he winced, wrinkling his nose.

“So?” Cyrus cut in, before TJ could even begin to say something. A few other nearby people had turned their heads.

“How can you be out in public like that? It’s gross,” he pointed out. Cyrus could feel TJ shrinking beside him, clearly uncomfortable. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance, before turning back towards the snack man.

“You’re being rude and creating a scene,” Cyrus pointed out, “I don’t understand why you feel the need to come over her and bother us,”

“You’re the one who wanted me to come over,”

“For snacks!” Cyrus cried, shaking his head, “not for a lecture,”

“Well, what I said is true,” he insisted.

That was it; Cyrus had had it. He stood up, still holding TJ’s hand. “No it’s not. You have no idea how hurtful the things you say are. We’re just like everybody else, and I don’t know why that’s so hard for you to see,”

Then there was applause, and not just because someone had made a three-pointer. People were reaching over and patting Cyrus on the back, pointing up at the screens around the arena. Sure enough, Cyrus was on them, and people were freaking out. Most of all Cyrus.

TJ, however, had never felt prouder. He couldn’t believe that Cyrus had stood up for them like that. Scratch that. He knew Cyrus was brave, but he didn’t know he was this brave. He tugged on his hand a little, standing up and cupping his face with his free hand. Boy, he loved him so much. And without a second thought, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The cheering from the stadium and from the players made that moment all the more special. The man with the snacks mumbled something under his breath and walked away, people booing him off the stands.

When they pulled away, Cyrus was so giddy he didn’t know what to do with himself. He took a seat, trying to focus back onto the basketball game, which was already well into the first quarter. Buffy’s team was up by a few points, but it was close. A little too close for comfort.

By the time halftime was over, it was evident that this was going to be a tight game. The teams were tied, much to the dismay of all of Buffy’s friends. Marty was cheering so loud that he was definitely going to lose his voice come tomorrow, but he didn't care. Buffy was playing a great game, and if she was nervous, it sure didn’t show.

“Wait, why do they have to dribble? Why can’t they just run?” Andi muttered, her eyes darting around the court.

“It’s called traveling,” Amber supplied, “it’s against the rules.” She had to thank TJ for that one, always talking her ear off about basketball.

For once, Cyrus knew what was happening in a sport. Between Buffy and TJ, he could point out a good player from a bad one, knew what kind of technique was preferred, and was actually able to call out a bad ref when he saw one.

It felt like the game lasted a few seconds and forever all at the same time. Cyrus blinked, and all of a sudden, it was nearing the end of the fourth quarter. Buffy’s team was down by three points, and time was almost up. One of the girls went for a three-pointed, but someone from the other team shoved her. Miraculously, the ball made it through the basket.

“That’s a foul!” Cyrus cried from the stands, standing up with sudden force. TJ took his hand gently, trying to bring him back down to earth.

“They’re giving her the foul shot, relax, Underdog,” he chuckled, tugging him back down. Usually, TJ would jump at an opportunity to call out a ref on a terrible call, but he felt oddly calm. Yes, he wanted Buffy’s team to wind, but he supposed it was having Cyrus by his side that kept his emotions at bay.

The girl who was fouled, Kaitlin, walked up to the foul line, the sweat trickling down her face. Her breath was heavy, and she was exhausted, but she needed to make this. One shot, and they could win. Just one shot.

She dribbled the ball a few times, spinning it in her hand. After a breath of what one could only consider extreme focus, she launched the ball. Things seem to move in slow motion. It was as if a part of a CD was skipped because the next thing Cyrus knew, Buffy was screaming at the top of her lungs, along with the rest of her team. They’d won!

Cyrus turned to TJ, engulfing in a quick hug before bounding down the bleachers, and nearly tripping over people. Marty was the first one down, shoving people out of the way to get to Buffy and pull her into a hug. And maybe when he thought people were not looking he gave her a quick kiss.

“You did so well!” Cyrus squealed, pulling her into a hug.

“Thanks guys,” she beamed proudly, “the team’s going out to celebrate at Lucky’s. You guys wanna come?”

TJ shook his head. “Nah, this is your moment. You go celebrate with the team. We’ll catch up later,” he gave her a small wave, and Cyrus followed him out.

Marty quirked a brow. “I’m coming,” he announced, latching onto Buffy’s hand and following the team.

The rest of the gang found themselves at the Spoon, all sitting together and enjoying one another’s company. It had been an eventful day, and it was nice to be able to relax.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to school soon,” Jonah mumbled, playing with his napkin.

Amber looked at him funny. “It’s. . .the middle of July, Jonah,”

“I know,” he started, “but it’s just. . .it feels like we’re going to go back so soon. I don’t want summer to end,”

“Me neither,” Cyrus mumbled, peering up at TJ, before pulling out his journal from his pocket. He flipped to the back and copied down the words from his phone.

verklempt: feeling so overwhelmed with emotions

“You still keep that?” Andi asked, “I quit after the mandatory week,”

“I loved this assignment,” he noted, shutting the journal, “best thing that’s ever happened to me,”

TJ placed a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically. “How you wound me,”

Cyrus giggled, giving his arm a swat. “Oh shut up, you know I love you,”

“I know,”

September 1, 1989. Okay no, not really, but Cyrus was listening to Heathers while getting ready in the morning, which coincidentally happened to be September 1. He was bouncing with so much energy he omitted having coffee that morning.

[teej <33: im outside when you’re ready]

He smiled so widely at that. TJ had promised to give him rides to school, and honestly that was probably the best part of his day. Maybe even better than the journalism class itself. Hurrying out the door with a muffin in his hand, he awkwardly jogged to TJ’s car.

“Morning,” he greeted, tapping the steering wheel lightly, “how are you?”

Cyrus smiled, setting his bag down in his lap and shutting the door. “I’m so excited,” he squealed, reaching for his buckle.

TJ laughed, signaling to leave the driveway. “Really? You’re happy to go back to school? Summer was, like, the best,”

Cyrus nods, taking a bite of his muffin. “I know, but journalism class, TJ!”

TJ shook his head, backing out of the driveway and heading towards the school. “Yeah, I guess I’m looking forward to that too,”

“You guess,” he mumbled, staring out the window.

“Okay, but you’re not the one that has a crappy schedule,” TJ countered.

Cyrus shrugged. “But you’ll get to see me at the end of the day,” he pointed out.

TJ smiled, turning into the parking lot. “Yeah, there’s that,” he agreed, shutting off the engine. The two of them grabbed their belongings, and left the car. Cyrus glanced down at their hands, and took TJ’s in his.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, as they paused in front of the doors.

TJ nodded, giving Cyrus’ hand a squeeze. “Of course,”

Most of the day was a blur, as was the first day of school. It felt like they were being herded around like sheep, and at some point, they reached the last period of the day. Cyrus had no idea how his feet dragged him to Mrs. Lorac’s classroom, but there he was, sitting in his chair with TJ beside him, and all his friends near him. He was really going to love this class.

“Alright, class,” she started, shutting the door, “take out your journals,”

Bags zipped open and people fished through their backpacks, pulling out their respective journals. The teacher walked around, skimming through the students’ journals, before placing them back on their desk. When she got to Cyrus’ and TJ’s, it almost looked like she was smiling at the pictures, and the progression of their story. Again, she placed them on the table, and started to walk back to her desk.

“You’re not going to grade them or collect them?” Cyrus asked.

She took a seat at her desk, propping her head up with her elbows. “I mean I’ll put in a grade that you did it, but the assignment was mostly for you, you know? I’m sure a lot of you had things happen that you didn’t expect because of this. Anyone?”

It was quiet for a moment, everybody waiting for someone else to make the first move. Amber sheepishly rose her hand, and the teacher nodded in her direction.

“I, uh, learned how to make crafts,” she supplied, looking to Andi for a moment, who offered a warm smile.

Jonah put his hand up next. “I came out to my mom,” he mumbled. It was quiet, but people caught on, a few of them applauding him and Walker patting him on the back.

“I got better at face painting,” Walker chuckled.

“I learned some sign language,” a girl piped up, signing as she spoke.

“Good, good!” the teacher said, a small smile on her face, “what about you, TJ? Cyrus?”

TJ smiled, ducking his head a little. “. . .what love is,”

Cue the chorus of ‘aws’. TJ ducked his head a little further, trying to hide his blush. There was so much he could say on what he learned, but he opter for keeping it simple.

“And you, Cyrus?”

“I. . gosh, where do I start,” he chuckled, “I think I learned,” he paused, glancing up at TJ, “how to be a better person. When to step in, when to back off,”

Mrs. Lorac seemed satisfied with his answer. “I’m glad you all got something out of this. Now for your first assignment, you need to report on a problem or issue here at school. It can be big, small, whatever you please. Due to me by the end of the week,”

She went on to explain the rules and expectations, but Cyrus could barely hear her. He was too engulfed in writing down his idea for the project; the school didn’t have a GSA, and Cyrus though that with one, all kids could feel welcomed and supported. Mrs. Lorac gave them the rest of the period to brainstorm what they wanted to write about for their project.

Too soon for Cyrus, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Everyone packed up their things, exhausted from the day of activities, and started to file out of the classroom. Cyrus and TJ walked together, but Cyrus stopped at Mrs. Lorac’s desk.

“What do people do with their journals? Since you’re not collecting them,” he asked.

She smiled, happy to answer. “A lot of things. Some keep the journal, some forget, naturally. I’ve seen some pretty cool art projects done with it. A couple people did a time capsule, some try and publish them, but that hasn’t worked out so far,” she chuckled to herself.

Cyrus lit up, a playful smile on his face. “Thanks Mrs. Lorac,” he said, walking out with TJ, who gave her a small wave. He started walking towards TJ’s car, a certain lightness in his step.

“What are you thinking about?” TJ chuckled, tossing his things in the trunk.

“You’ll see,” he said, hopping in the passenger’s seat.

“Remind me why I’m also getting out of the car at your house?” TJ asked, shutting his door as Cyrus dragged him along. He tugged him into the backyard and stopped all of a sudden, turning to face him.

“I wanna make a time capsule,” he said softly, “like what Mrs. Lorac said. So that years from now, I can look back and smile,”

TJ grinned, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Alright, let’s do it,”

The two of them went up to Cyrus’ room and tried to find all the things they could to put in their time capsule, the container of which would be an old metal lunch box that Cyrus used to use. He snapped a picture of the words, not wanting to forget them. It was a little bittersweet, having to part with his journal for a while, but he knew that he would thank his past self. Inside, they placed their journals, a few pictures of them, including the one of them at the Christmas store, and a copy of the best muffin recipes ever.

TJ tapped his chin, eyeing the polaroid camera sitting on Cyrus’ desk. “It needs one more thing,” he decided, reaching over and grabbing the camera.

“Really? What?”

“This,” he murmured, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Cyrus’ lips, attempting to snap of a photo of it. It was silly and kind of childish, but hearing Cyrus giggling as he melted into the kiss was all he needed. Pulling back, he felt his cheeks flush, so he tried to focus on the picture that was coming out. Granted, it was a bit blurry, but he thought it was perfect nonetheless. Both boys signed their names on the back with a little heart, and placed it in the little box, shutting it with a click.

“Now we bury it?” TJ assumed, drumming his fingers on the box. Cyrus nodded, and the two of them headed into the backyard.

“I will let you do the shoveling,” Cyrus offered, handing him a shovel.

“Oh, how kind of you,” TJ chuckled, accepting the shovel and glancing around for a place to start digging, “is by that tree okay?” he asked, to which Cyrus nodded. The start of the process was difficult, trying to break through the ground, but from there, it wasn’t that bad. Yes, he was sweating and was breathing a little heavier, but it was totally worth it. Once he thought that he’d gotten deep enough, he let Cyrus place it gently into the hole before he covered it back with dirt, patting it firmly on the back.

“I kind of want to dig it up again,” Cyrus chuckled, pressing his body against TJ’s.

“That’s not the point of this, you know,” he smiled, resting his head on top of Cyrus’.

“Do you think someone’s going to find this someday?” Cyrus wondered aloud.

“I hope so,” he replied softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Maybe someone would never find their time capsule. Maybe the two of them would be the only ones that know about it, but maybe they’d eventually forget. Maybe none of this would matter in a few years. But right now, it was everything. And that was just okay for them.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush || @tyrus-lookback || @gaycefulwords || @theobligatedklutz || @bambikippen ||

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fic #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #my fics #cyrus' dictionary #ambi #wonah #muffy

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arckook · 5 years

Text

next time - haechan x reader part one

pairing: haechan x reader

au: high school

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.4k

description: You’ve gone to an all-girls’ academy for the better part of your school career- the only boy you’re really friends with is your moderately lame cousin Mark. Usually, Mark avoids having you and his baseball team present at the same time, but after an unfortunate return from the convenience store, you end up meeting six of his appallingly handsome teammates. And boys, as you’ve forgotten over the years, make everything more complicated.

a/n: im using stage names in this fic! as such, reader will call donghyuck haechan and yukhei lucas :) i hope everyone enjoys, and i will do my best to get the next part out asap!

You tiptoe through the meadow, the fresh scent of wildflowers and herbs wafting through the air. Everything around you seems to have a golden light- a supernatural luminescence that emphasizes the natural beauty of the world around you. Tilting your head up to the sky, you trace the patterns of the stars with your pointer finger, recognizing none of them.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” A familiar, yet somehow nostalgic voice calls from behind you. You turn, unsure of who to expect, and yet, when you see him, he seems to fit the voice you’d heard moments ago perfectly.

“Yoo Jaeseok?” you ask, brows furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

The famous comedian simply smiles comfortingly at you. “Well, I’m here to tell you that-”

“I won’t call you again, Y/N, you’re going to be late for school!” You wince as bright light hits your eyelids and your mom’s voice hits your ears.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, digging your face into your pillow. Another day of school. It never ends.

“I heard that!” your mom calls, and you almost swear again at her insane auditory perception, but bite your tongue.

Dragging yourself out of bed wondering why you feel like you had kind of a weird dream, you sluggishly make it to the bathroom, where you actually wake up and start getting ready for the day.

By the time you make it downstairs and to the front door, you look as presentable as you do on a regular basis, which is to say, wearing the school uniform and with your hair pulled away from your face.

Your mom is at the counter with a lunch prepared for you to take, but she stops you just as you start to call a “Bye, love you!”

“Are you wearing makeup?” she demands, grabbing your chin and turning your face from side to side.

“No, mom, stop!” you struggle to free yourself as your mother starts rubbing at your cheeks. “Mom! I swear to Jesus himself!”

She lets you go with an unsatisfied hmph and gestures towards the door. “Hyunjoo is waiting outside for you. Don’t put makeup on in the school bathroom.”

“Uh huh,” you say with a sweet smile, and promptly sprint out of the door and into freedom.

“What happened to you?” your best friend, Do Hyunjoo asks with humor in her expression as you shut your front door behind you, out of breath.

“I need to move out,” you tell her frankly, grabbing the banana milk she has in her left hand for you. You both start walking on the same path you’ve been taking to get to school for the past three years, everything around very familiar and at this point, kind of boring.

Hyunjoo laughs, her wide eyes crinkling up so that they’re barely visible. “Is that why you’re always at your cousin’s house?”

You nod, sipping from the drink she’d given you. “I’d literally just live there if it was closer to school.”

“You can live at my house,” Hyunjoo winks, raising her eyebrows up and down, and you laugh.

“Geez, can you imagine the rumors at school if we did that?”

“Come on, Y/N, doesn’t everyone kinda know I’m into girls anyway?”

After twenty or so minutes of walking, you make it to your high school, the imposing, large building looking totally ordinary in your eyes. The faculty member in the front of the school checks you and Hyunjoo off (almost late, but that’s normal for you two) and sends you in, telling you to go straight to your classroom.

The day goes by as usual. Lim Naeun talks about her “boyfriend” like she does everyday (you don’t think he’s real), the girls in the corner spend every minute they can fangirling over some idol, you don’t understand shit when it comes to math, and by the end of it all, you are so tired of the female voice that you feel like you could gouge out your eardrums.

You love going to an all girls’ school. Honestly, you do. The sisterhood between your class is strong- you have all known each other for years, after all. There’s not really much drama because all dating happens outside of school (well… all dating involving boys, that is) and since your school is moderately prestigious, all of you have good grades and competition for college isn’t as intense as other high schools.

You also feel way more comfortable at school. There’s none of the awkwardness that comes from not wanting to explain why you need a bag to go to the bathroom when it’s your period, nobody ever gets worried about not shaving their legs, and you’ve never dealt with annoying guys who think trashing women is funny.

With all that said, you sometimes need a break from girl time. Because girl time for you is literally all time.

“Yah, Y/N!” Hyunjoo calls after you. You’d made a very you exit by ditching as soon as the bell rang, politely yet very quickly saying byes and have a good weekends to your classmates. “How can you just leave your dearest friend like that?”

You pause until she catches up with you, then start walking again at a brisk pace. “I’m going to Mark’s house, wanna come?”

She gives you an ‘are you serious’ face. “Y/N, we’ve been over this. I can’t just go over to your cousin’s house.”

“I mean, you could. What is he gonna do, kick you out?”

Hyunjoo smacks you on the arm, making you whine. “No, idiot, but it’s still rude!”

“Fine then.” you flip your hair over your shoulder. “I’ll see you… sometime.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Hyunjoo sighs as you both stop where you’ll have to go the opposite way from your neighborhood. She pats your head, even though she is not really any taller than you. “See you on Monday.”

You smile, abandoning your moody persona, and flash your best friend a finger heart. “Bye!”

“Sometimes it really feels like you don’t even have your own house.”

You side-eye your cousin from your stretched-out, relaxed, nearly upside down position on the couch in his living room. “And?”

Mark gives you a look. A shady look, specifically. “And, you’re lucky your schedule just happens to not coincide with when the team comes over.”

You scoff, quickly righting yourself so that you’re sitting straight and staring your cousin down. “That is such bull and you know it Mark Lee. I know for a fact that you have specifically kept me from being around when your ‘team’ or whatever is!”

Mark shrugs, already focusing back onto the video game he’s playing on the flat screen TV. “Either way, my point still stands.”

You slump back down, going back to texting Hyunjoo, Jo Yuyeon, and Park Jisu about the group project that you have to do for your math class. “Your point is sitting on it’s ass just like you,” you grumble, hoping Mark doesn’t hear, but you guess that everyone related to you just has supersonic hearing abilities, because his head snaps back towards you at lightning speed. Before he can threaten you, though, you jump from your spot on the couch and start power-walking to the front door.

“I’m going to get some snacks, want anything?”

You can’t actually see your cousin roll his eyes, but you feel that energy from him. “No, it’s a waste of money.”

“Okay, bye!” you call, closing the front door behind you and popping some earphones in and sunglasses on as you walk down the street to the nearest convenience store.

You walk up and down the aisles of the store a few times so that you’re gone for more than like, two minutes, avoiding a weird middle-aged man who keeps looking at you from the tables by the windows, before deciding on some chips and an aloe drink. You pay, thinking briefly about how this truly is a waste of money, and then leave.

“Hit you with that ddu-du ddu-du du,” you hum to yourself, making the finger gun motions as you bounce down the street back to Mark’s house.

By the time you get back, it’s up to the dance break part, and you being… well, you, throw open your cousin’s front door with a very exaggerated shout of “Blackpink!” and then poorly singing the instrumental as you plop the bag with your snacks on the counter. It hits you as you’re opening your drink that Mark has not groaned dramatically or questioned your behavior like he usually would by this point, and that is why you slowly turn around, lifting your sunglasses off your face.

Staring back at you is not just your cousin, who has an extremely amused expression, but six other guys, who all appear to be very hot, and very confused.

You pull out your earphones and set your phone on the counter quickly, jaw dropping open.

“What the hell!” you exclaim towards Mark, who apparently can’t contain himself, and starts laughing behind his hand. “Who are these people?”

A few of the boys look at each other, some of them also seeming like they’re about to break out into laughter, and one of them shyly raises his hand. “We’re Mark’s baseball team. Well, some of it.”

This does not help explain anything to you, since literally twenty minutes ago your cousin was saying how good it was that you’d never been there when his team was over.

You don’t reply, just continuing to stare at them in shock. You don’t really get to see many boys around your age, since you’ve gone to the girls’ school for a few years now. Are all of them this handsome?

“Nice singing,” one says, practically snickering, and you’re suddenly snapped out of your trance.

“If that was sarcastic, I’ll seriously fight you-” you start, and Mark hurriedly stands up, walking over to you and putting his hands on your shoulders. You narrow your eyes at him, but he starts talking anyway.

“Guys, this is my cousin Y/N. She goes to an all girls’ academy, so that’s why she’s really surprised to see you.”

“Hi, Y/N,” they chorus back at the two of you.

You swat Mark’s hands off of you, an unimpressed look on your face. “No, I’m surprised because you purposely keep me from being here at the same time as them,” you say with emphasis, in case he never told them that.

“Haha, what?” your cousin tries to play it off, but his team seems to find what you’d said really funny.

“Are you serious?” One of them, with the most blinding, handsome smile you’ve ever seen on a boy asks. For a moment you’re starstruck, just looking at him in awe, before you snap out of it again.

You smile at him sweetly. “Yeah, Mark’s just jealous ‘cause I’m more fun than him.”

The boy chuckles, looking around at the other guys, and immediately you feel your cousin’s death stare on the back of your head.

“Guys, just excuse us for a minute,” he tells the group, and they all nod, waving him off. Mark gently pushes you out the door, crossing his arms once you’re both outside.

“You don’t look intimidating,” you tell him, just so he knows.

He sighs, dropping his arms. “I know. I also know I may be asking you for too much here, but can you not flirt with Jaemin while I’m around? Or for that matter, anybody on my team?”

“So that’s his name…” you muse aloud, which is followed by another sigh on your cousin’s part.

“Y/N, please focus.”

“My apologies,” you bow your head. “I will try not to flirt with Jaemin.”

“...Or?”

You sigh. “Or any of your other teammates.”

“Okay, good.” Mark says, giving you his mildly shady side eye again. “I’m putting my faith in your maturity. If this goes well, you’re allowed to come to our next game.”

“What!” you exclaim, and he hurriedly shushes you. “What!” you repeat in a whisper-shout. “You better keep that promise.”

He offers you his pinky. “Promise.”

You wrap yours around his and squeeze it tight. “No take-backs.”

“Never,” Mark says, and opens the door again, leading you back to the baseball team.

The team stays over for a few hours, over which you learn all their names: Jaemin with the godly smile, Jeno whose eyes crinkle up, Lucas who towers over the rest of you, Renjun who is definitely the smartest person there, Chenle, who has an absolutely hilarious laugh, and Haechan, who seems like a major entertainer, but hasn’t spoken directly to you the whole afternoon.

Mark’s parents seem to know all of them really well, which only makes it weirder that you’ve never ever met the team before. You guess Mark is just smarter than you thought.

When it’s starting to get dark, you stretch from your place on the couch (the most comfortable spot that had been granted to you and the youngest of their group, Chenle) and heave a deep sigh.

“I think I’m gonna get going,” you say, not speaking to anyone in general.

“Okay, bye.” Mark replies, lying right below the couch, not even bothering to look at you instead of at his phone screen. You kick him lightly in the side, crossing your arms. “Ow-! What the he-”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” you scold him as he curls up, the other boys laughing from their various positions on the floor around the living room. Standing, you brush your hair out of your face and start grabbing the stuff you’d had when you came over. “I’ll tell your mom.”

Mark just groans.

“What part of town do you live in? I gotta get home too,” Jaemin says, sitting up. You glance over with wide eyes, unsure of if he really just said that.

“Yeah, me too,” Jeno says, and the other four chorus the same thing.

“Uhm, I live by that park with the white tiger statues,” you answer vaguely. Your dad always told you to keep your address to yourself.

“Oh, I know where that is!” Jaemin smiles, then seems to remember it’s distance from Mark’s house. “It’s a shame, we all live around here…”

“Haechan lives by you, Y/N!” Chenle pipes up, pointing towards said boy. Your eyes follow Chenle’s finger to Haechan, who is staring with intensity at the younger boy. Immediately understanding what Haechan is trying to communicate, you chuckle and wave off Chenle’s words.

“No, no worries, nobody needs to walk back with me. I go to and from Mark’s house by myself all the time. Thank you, though.” you smile particularly in Jaemin’s direction, although, trying to make yourself less obvious, you look around the whole room while talking.

“Yep, she’s fine,” Mark comments, glaring at you from the floor.

With a few more assurances to the boys who seem to have some kind of protective feelings towards you, you pop in your earphones and head out the door, your feet mindlessly carrying you the same path you take all too often.

Mark lives in one of the lesser-traveled neighborhoods, and there’s nobody around at this hour- students are already home by now, but adults still aren’t off of work. Plus, you typically take a shortcut through a few alleys to cut the time it takes to get home a little faster.

You make it about ten minutes before you start getting a weird feeling. It’s pretty much night by now, and even though you usually aren’t afraid at all walking by yourself, you have that hair-raising sense that someone is watching you. You take small peeks over your shoulder and pull out an earphone as you change your route and head toward the bus stop, deciding to spend the money instead of walking the whole way home.

Step, step.

Your head whips around, the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps behind you causing your heart rate to skyrocket. Just as your eyes catch a figure that had been about ten feet back, it swiftly ducks behind a wall.

You bite your lip, looking around to see if anyone else is around- but no one is, of course. The lights in the homes nearby are on, though, which gives you some confidence.

“Is someone there?” you call out, knowing that if the figure that had been there before doesn’t come clean here and now, you will most definitely turn and put your middle school track skills to use.

“...No.” a soft, slightly high-pitched male voice rings out.

...What?

You tilt your head, not knowing where this is going, or if you’re actually in danger.

The figure comes back out from behind the wall. You squint as they walk forward a few steps and end up under a street lamp, pulling the hooding on their head down.

“Haechan?” your jaw drops. “...What?”

The boy who had been the most awkward to you the entire night shrugs, looking embarrassed. “Not going to lie, Jaemin and Lucas kind of pressured me into making sure you got home alright.”

“Jesus,” you sigh, wiping off the sweat that had collected from stress on your forehead. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He winces. “Sorry. That wasn’t really the intention?”

A few seconds pass in silence. You’re not really sure what to say, and clearly Haechan doesn’t have much of an interest in you considering how he acted earlier, so the situation definitely feels… weird, to say the least.

“Um, do you want to go together from here? I mean, we do live by each other.” Haechan asks, sounding like he’s not really sure about his offer himself.

You resist a smile as you watch his fingers intertwine and stretch around nervously. “Uh, sure? But you don’t have to, you know. You were the only creepy guy following me.”

Haechan laughs, which is again, kind of weird, because while he had done that at Mark’s house, he hadn’t in response to something you said. “Yeah, sorry again.” he sheepishly unlocks his hands and rubs the back of his neck, not responding to you telling him he didn’t have to come along with you.

“It’s fine.” you say, waiting for him to walk forward and catch up with you. The two of you start walking again, side by side. “Do you wanna take the bus?”

He shrugs. “Do you want to?”

“I like walking, but it’s way faster if we take the bus.”

He shoots a condescending look at you. “I know that. I was asking in case you don’t have any money.”

You laugh out loud at that. “Thanks for the concern.” Thinking on it, you glance over at Haechan, feeling a curiosity well up inside of you. You want to talk to him more- find out why he was so quiet earlier, and why he didn’t just agree to walk back with you from the start. “Let’s take the bus next time.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling like yesterday’s events were barely real. A regular day of hanging out with your lame cousin had turned into meeting more boys than you think you’ve ever held legitimate conversations with, and that had turned into walking home with Lee Donghyuck, who actually ended up being really funny and charming.

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I need to tell Hyunjoo.”

You toss yourself across your bed to reach over and grab your phone off the nightstand, tapping the screen furiously in the hopes that it’ll turn on faster. “Come on,” you whine, watching the reset screen intently. As soon as the lockscreen picture of you and Hyunjoo appears, you’re unlocking the phone and opening your texts.

To: Hyunnie<3 at 9:21

HYUNJOO!!!!!!! wake up!!!!! youre never going to believe what happened last night!!!!!!!

You stare at the screen, waiting for the three dots that will indicate your best friend is replying to show up. But they don’t. Dammit. Curse her habit of sleeping in way, way too late. Discouraged, you groan and throw your arm over your eyes, turning off your phone.

You’re starting to feel yourself fall asleep again when a loud ding! from your phone makes shocks you out of your drowsiness. Expecting to see a reply from Hyunjoo, you’re even more surprised when it’s not.

From: Mark :/ at 9:27

Jaemin is pressuring me into inviting you to our game next week. So I guess you’re invited.

You let out a maniacal laugh as soon as you read the message.

To: Mark :/ at 9:28

hahahahahaha youre such a pushover. tell jaemin i said hi ;)

From: Mark :/ at 9:28

Oh my god… not gonna happen.

To: Mark :/ at 9:29

lol im kidding

or am i??

anyway ill be there!!!!!!! can i bring a friend?

A few minutes pass without Mark replying, so you get out of bed with a big smile, suddenly feeling even better than you were before. You sit down at your desk, starting to put some makeup on for no reason, since you don’t have plans for today besides working on your part of the math project.

Ding!

You glance over at the phone screen as you pat on some concealer, another cackle leaving your lips.

From: Hyunnie<3 at 9:50

Yah… don’t tell me you did something scandalous??

“What the hell,” you mumble with a chuckle, shaking your head at your best friend’s wandering mind.

To: Hyunnie<3 at 9:51

what are you thinking you pervert?????

i finally met marks baseball team!!! and they were all hot!!!

From: Hyunnie<3 at 9:53

Eh??? Are you serious?

To: Hyunnie<3 at 9:56

hey… you should come over with the excuse that we need to work on the math project together and we can stalk all their instagrams

All she sends back is a thumbs up.

“So he smiled at you?” Hyunjoo laughs joyously, kicking her legs like a kid. “Ah, he’s super cute, Y/N!”

You lean your head on her shoulder as you both look at Jaemin’s profile after he quickly accepted your friend request. “I know right? He was seriously dreamy…”

“Ooo,” Hyunjoo taps on a picture of Jaemin with who you recognize as Lucas. “Who is he though?”

“Oh, that’s Lucas Wong, he’s an exchange student. He’s super tall.” you comment as Hyunjoo zooms in on his face.

“Damn,” she says, opening Lucas’s instagram. “Follow him too.”

“Bitch,” you snatch your phone back as she’s about to hit the follow button, since his profile isn’t private. “Don’t make it look like I’m thirsty. Follow him yourself.”

Hyunjoo smacks you on the arm. “Are you crazy? He doesn’t even know me.”

You wince, rubbing your arm with a pout. “So? To be honest, he seemed kind of into himself so I don’t even think he’d question it.”

Hyunjoo rolls her eyes, taking your phone back from your hands as you go back to trying to solve one of the equations on your paper.

Both of you are quiet for a while as Hyunjoo scrolls through Lucas’s extensive portfolio of selfies and gym pics and you do your best on your part of the project.

“Oh, Mark texted you,” Hyunjoo says eventually. You look over to see her open the message, and subsequently watch her jaw drop open.

“What?” you lean over to read the text.

From: Mark :/ at 12:44

Okay, you can bring Do Hyunjoo, but NOBODY ELSE. I’m serious.

You laugh at your best friend’s expression.

“Where? Where are you bringing me? To Mark’s house?” her face turns sour. “I told you it’d be weird if I go there.”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “To Mark’s baseball game next week.”

Hyunjoo drops your phone. “Seriously? Finally? After all this time?”

You hmm, picking up your phone and pushing the math work over to her. “Apparently Jaemin asked Mark to ask me to come.”

“Ugh,” Hyunjoo groans, slumping over. “How are you so lucky, Y/N?”

“Me? Lucky?” you scoff. “You’re the one with perfect grades… honestly, isn’t GPA the most important thing in this life?”

Hyunjoo laughs, reaching over and pinching your arm. You glare and swat her hand away, but she just looks at you fondly. “Duh. That’s why I’m about to correct all of this poorly done math.”

“Ah, really?” you cringe. “Okay, show me what I did wrong, then…”

“Hey, Y/N, you made it!”

You and Hyunjoo, arm in arm, dressed in an appalling amount of spiritwear from Mark’s school, turn to look at who has just called your name. Immediately after seeing Jaemin’s bright smile hands waving you to come over to where the rest of the baseball team is getting ready to warm up, you feel a dream-like grin appear on your own face.

“Hi, Jaemin,” you say as Hyunjoo practically drags you over now that you’ve gone into a ‘holy shit he’s so cute how can I even focus’ phase. “Of course I made it.”

Jaemin nods, still beaming at you, then glances over at Hyunjoo. “I’m guessing you’re Y/N’s friend?”

“Yup, I’m Do Hyunjoo,” your best friend says, bowing her head slightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too!” Jaemin says, then opens his mouth to continue, but he’s cut off but someone else practically jumping him, looping their strong arm over his neck.

“Hey, Mark’s cousin! I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Lucas,” you smile politely at him, trying to see if Jaemin is actually choking or not. “This is my friend, Hyunjoo.” you take the opportunity to introduce them considering how many screenshots of Lucas’s selfies your best friend had sent you over the course of the past week.

Lucas just nods even as Hyunjoo says hello to him, then seems to get distracted by someone else behind you all and releases Jaemin, barely even offering a goodbye.

“So, uhhh…” you peek around Jaemin to look at the rest of the team. There’s Chenle, Renjun, Jeno, and some others you didn’t meet, but… “Do you know where my cousin is? Or Haechan?”

Jaemin tilts his head, humming in thought. “Uh, I think they went to get water or something, not sure.”

You smile reassuringly. “That’s okay.”

A moment passes in silence where you and Jaemin are just sort of looking at each other and then glancing away- out of nowhere you’re feeling shy and nervous.

Hyunjoo looks unamused. “When do you guys start warming up? Is there somewhere Y/N and I should sit?”

Jaemin seems to snap out of it, so you follow suit and focus. “Oh, yeah, we’ll start warming up in like five minutes. If you guys want to go sit down, you’ll have to go over there-” he points to a section of the stands that seems to be primarily occupied by middle-aged couples. “Since you don’t go to our school.”

“Thanks,” Hyunjoo bows her head. “We’ll get going now.” She firmly loops her arm around your elbow and mercilessly starts dragging you away.

“Good luck, Jaemin!” you call out to the boy as he chuckles. “Tell Mark hi for me!”

The handsome kid shoots you another blinding smile and a thumbs up, pivoting to head back to the bench where the rest of the team is.

“You are so embarrassing,” Hyunjoo huffs as the two of you settle down in the very front row of what appears to be the parent section.

You pout, lightly smacking your friend on the arm. “Hey! I saw the way you were looking at Lucas. ‘I like girls more’ my ass.”

She scoffs. “I definitely do, headass, but are you really going to tell me I shouldn’t admire a man who looks like that?”

You shrug, pulling out a granola bar from your bag. “Nah, I guess not. But whatever happened to your thing with Jung Chaeyoung?”

Hyunjoo sighs. “She said I make her feel too dumb, remember?” she rolls her eyes. “Like, am I supposed to apologize for being smart?”

“Shhh!” a mom leans down over yours and Hyunjoo’s shoulder, just about scaring the shit out of you, but you apologetically nod to her, whispering sorrys as someone announces that the game will start in five minutes.

“Do you know how baseball works?” you whisper to Hyunjoo, taking as quiet of a bite as possible from the granola bar.

She shakes her head. “I don’t have time to learn about sports, Y/N.”

“Ah, right…”

The announcer lists the players from the opposing team, then starts on Mark’s team, beginning with Chenle, then Lucas, some people you don’t know, Renjun, Jeno-

“Woohoo! Come on Mark, you got this! You can do it, let’s get it Mark Lee!” you shout, standing up enthusiastically.

“Oh my fucking god,” you hear Hyunjoo whisper as she frantically grabs your arm and yanks you down.

You burst into laughter even as you feel various parents’ disapproving looks. “What? I’m supporting my family.”

“You look crazy,” Hyunjoo deadpans.

Shrugging, you finish off the granola bar, as you and your best friend settle into watching the baseball game, during which you have no clue what’s going on.

When the game ends (after what feels like a lifetime), you and Hyunjoo scurry out of the stands and back down to where Jaemin initially met you. The team is in deep discussion with their coach as most of the boys shake off sweat and take long sips of water, putting their gear away.

Eventually, though, one by one they file out and into the common area where you’re waiting, and you take the opportunity to pounce on your cousin as soon as it appears.

“Mark!” you shout, jumping onto your cousin’s back gleefully. He lets out an unattractive ‘humph’ sound and nearly falls, snapping his head around to give you a death glare as you slide off. “Did you hear me cheering for you? That’s probably why you guys won!”

Your cousin lets out a deep sigh, moving out of the line to stand by you and Hyunjoo. “We probably won because we’re good, but if you want to believe it was your cheering-”

“Y/N, Hyunjoo!” you glance behind Mark to see Jaemin dragging Haechan along behind him, the former sporting his signature smile while the latter looks a bit awkward.

“Hey, you both did great out there!” you shoot them a thumbs up. “I saw your… your slide thing, whatever it is, Haechan!”

He nods, a shy grin peeking through. “Thanks. I was kinda worried, but it worked out.”

“Oh, definitely,” you assure him, even though you have no idea what the slide on the ground was for or how it worked out at all.

“So, are you two headed home now?” Jaemin asks, throwing an arm around Mark’s shoulder. “Or a party at this one’s house maybe?”

“Please, no,” Mark shuts his eyes, breathing deeply.

“I gotta run some errands for my mom down the street,” Hyunjoo says, looking annoyed at the idea. She turns to you, a concerned expression passing over her face. “Are you going to be okay walking by yourself?”

“Yeah, it should be okay, I told you last week, I’m totally used to going around alone-”

“I’ll walk back with you, Y/N.” Haechan’s voice interrupts your attempt to convince Hyunjoo that you’ll be fine.

You match his gaze, tilting your head slightly, but this time, Haechan doesn’t look the least bit nervous about talking to you. “You sure?”

He hesitates for just a moment, until a crooked smile forms on his lips and he nods. “Uh-huh.”

Jaemin looks in between you two, then with a slightly awkward sounding laugh, gestures to Hyunjoo and Mark. “You guys wanna head back our way, then?”

“Our way? Hyunjoo repeats, looking confused.

“Yeah, Mark and I live down that street,” Jaemin says, pointing to where she had gestured to earlier. “Unless you’d rather go alone?”

“Um, if you guys don’t mind me tagging alone,” Hyunjoo shrugs, a nervous smile overtaking her expression. You laugh mentally, but not out loud.

“No problem Hyunjoo, you’re better company than your best friend,” Mark says, talking for the first time in forever.

“Ouch,” you mumble, but you’re laughing.

And for the second time, you find yourself walking home in the cool evening air, with Lee Haechan. You didn’t even take the bus.

#im kinda worried about this one hopefully yall like it haha #do tags even work these days???#nct x reader #haechan x reader #lee haechan #jaemin x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream x reader #high school au #next time #fic

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redvelvetreel · 5 years

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Red Velvet Reel 9.3: Blue Ain’t (Usually) My Color

[Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Stretch receives conflicting advice on how to go about fixing this. He decides to go the middle ground of big, heartfelt gestures that say ‘sorry’ without actually saying it. What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans)& Blue (Underswap Sans)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Different monster cultural traditions between universes!

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: Sorry this took me forever! In hindsight, I should have finished this part before starting my event, huh? I got like an ask or 2 left for that! I kinda wanna keep it up for fun tho, in case y’all have any other questions, but hmmm... idk! idk~

“Huh?” Red looked at him like he grew another head- that devious bastard was actually trying to act dumb! “Fuck ya talkin’-“

“I hurt Edge’s feelings, bad, so I gotta make all of this up to him.” Stretch shifted restlessly, “How do I apologize to him? What would a Fell monster do?”

“Fell don’t apologize, ‘cause Fell ain’t got no feelin’s! Just act normal ‘n like there ain’t nothin’ bad.” Red mimed brushing dust off of his jacket, “Ya forget? I forget. S’easy!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Blue crossed his arms over his chest, looking pensive, “You’re not Fell, and Edge won’t expect a Fell-style apology from you. Actually, he might be more hurt by the fact it looks like you don’t care.”

His face must have fallen, because Blue immediately continued, “So, I think you should just talk to him! Say you realized you hurt his feelings, apologize, and that you want to make it up to him!”

“Is this like a dungeon puzzle?” Stretch put his head on the table, “I don’t know. What question do I ask so I know which of you is lying and which of you is telling the truth?”

Distantly, he heard Blue explain over his head, hand patting his back, “It’s a movie reference.”

“Ok, whatever, we don’t got all fuckin’ day.” Red must have leaned on the table, because he sounded a lot closer in an instant, “Why don’tcha do both? Sorry by gettin’ Edge somethin’ nice ‘nstead a’pologizin’, yeah?”

“Like what?” Stretch turned his face onto the side of his arm with a dejected sigh, unable to muster the strength to lift his head. Trying to fight against biology was too much work- he was just gonna be an emotional mess for the rest of this quarter. Thanks a lot, Pancake.

“From you?” Red squinted at him, hand drumming on the table, “Uh, sing. One ‘a them cowboy songs.”

Stretch sat up abruptly, whacking at where his ears should have be. “Huh?!”

“Ya made a mixtape one Gyftmas, yeah?” Red knew about that?! Why did Red know about that?! “S’favorite gift ya ever gave. Goddamn brat listened to it fuckin’ thousand times.”

“That was a gag gift!” Stretch couldn’t believe it, a weird mix of touched and embarrassed and confused. “He wasn’t supposed to like it!!! I- I yodeled, man! There was a banjo- I don’t know how to play the banjo! I play the harboneica! I put so much ‘twang’ into the first like 3 songs I kept coughing throughout ‘I’ve got Spurs that Jingle Jangle Jingle!’ And you’re telling me he liked it?!” He dragged his hands down his face, wishing he could sink into the floor. (and still kinda weird pleased) “He listened to it! More than once?!”

Blue laughed lightly, turning his face away as though that were any less humiliating for his poor, embarrassed, put-upon brother, “I remember.” Why did Blue remember?! What did he remember?!

“Sorry, Papy,” Blue didn’t look or sound apologetic enough, “But you were singing at the top of yours lungs and you kept crashing into things. You were laughing almost the entire time, though, so I assumed you were having a good time.”

“Ughhhh...” Stretch tried to slide down the cushioned seats and onto the floor as Red and Blue snickered. Laughing at his expense. Traitors. “Is that what Edge liked about it so much? Making fun of me?”

“Ya damn well know that ain’t true.” Red wasn’t quite as smiley anymore.

“Then why-?”

“ ‘Cause he’s sappy as shit!” Red was at the end of his patience, bringing his hands down hard enough to shake the table, “He likes bein’ able to be soft with ya, ok?! All them singin’ bad ‘n dancin’ in the kitchen kinda shit! So pick yer noggin fer somethin’ sugary as hell ‘n just!” He gestured, articulating something Stretch could barely understand. “Fuckin’! Don’t apologize like a bitch! Seduce him like a nerd!”

“Ok!” This was sounding like a better and better plan! Be as charming and goofy and lovable romcom protagonist-y as possible, sweep Edge off his high heels, and get everything back to normal! With the added bonus of making Edge super happy and letting him know he was deeply, truly loved! Brilliant!

“Blue!” He turned to his brother, an excited twinkle to his eye, “How do I do that? What are the best romcom tropes and treats?”

“Um.” Blue’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as Red leered at him, but he soldiered on, “You could leave him cute voice messages of you singing for him. Uh, he’s more of a savory person, so some biscuits or something from the Barkery might be nice. Balloons? Flowers? Everybody likes flowers!”

“Y’ain’t ever get me flowers.” Red teased, grin sharp.

“Stuffed animals are popular too.” Blue ignored him, “But make sure you’re tailoring it to his interests-“

“He likes dancin’!” Red moved his torso to some imaginary beat, but with that snickering, Stretch wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. “S’Latin night somewhere! Merengue ‘n Salsa ‘n cumbias, nuerito! Real heat up with a bachata!”

“Yeah, ok! I don’t! Know! What half of those are! But ok!” This was going to be great! Stretch pulled his brother into a hug, kissing the top of his head, “You’re a genius, bro!”

He turned to his brother-in-law, “Red-”

Red backed himself into a corner when Stretch turned to him, holding his hand out, “Ain’t gonna letcha kiss me ‘fore buyin’ dinner, Honey.”

Stretch laughed at that, Soul feeling light and suddenly incredibly happy, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand... before clanking a kiss to the back of his hand anyway. Had to practice being as charming as possible, after all!

“Thanks guys!” He was up in a moment, bouncing on the heels of his high tops excitedly, “I’m gonna hit up the Barkery to get a special order in before they close! And the flower shop! And see what other cool stuff I can find!”

“Papy-“ Blue called out, “You still need to tell him why-“

“Don’t be givin’ all at once- draw shit out!” Red was louder, obviously riling Stretch up even further, “Keep ‘im guessin’!”

Stretch was already out the door, phone to his head and waving cheerily as he ran- literally ran- off. Blue sighed deeply.

“Whatcha wanna bet on?” Red was gleefully devious, worrying at a piece of g like the caricature villain he liked to project himself as. “How’sit gonna blow? Who’s gonna blow?”

“It’s rude and in poor taste to bet against your brother and brother-in-law’s happiness.” Blue told him primly, “So, I’ll bet a compliment to Edge, on a topic of your choosing, that Edge is going to contact me to ask what’s wrong with Papy-“

“I ain’t gonna take those odds!” Red crossed his arms petulantly, “S’fuckin’ rigged, tramposo!”

“Before he rips into you for outing his cowboy kink to my brother.” Blue finished with a coy smile, laying his hands flat on the table with a shrug. “But if you’re too chicken-“

“Hah!” Red’s smile was excited and bright as he put his own hands down, palms up, “That’s good! Hell if I know! I’ll betcha...” His fingers drummed on the table pensively, “Hm... Betcha an paternal encouragin’ fer Honey. Tell ‘im he’s gonna be a good Papa.”

“Yeah, okay,” Blue reached for the hand Red offered him, turning it carefully to make sure it wasn’t booby trapped. As soon as they shook on it, Red kicked him under the table- and he got a joy buzzer to the knee.

“I hate you!” Sputtering angrily, Blue rubbed at his knee, obviously trying to dispel the lingering numbness, “You’re such an asshole!”

“Love ya too, baby cakes.” Red blew him a kiss as he stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “Now hurry up ‘n grab ‘em napkins! Game’s comin’ on at 1:00, and I ain’t gonna miss it ‘cause you’re bein’ lazy.”

Red was already at the door, walking into a shortcut before he had to hear Blue cussing him out again.

FIN.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [ Part 3 - Here! ]

#underswap sans #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #spicyhoney (implied)#skelepreg (implied)#some cherryberry tension? idk they've got a weird relationship lol #fanfic #redvelvetreel

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written.)

I have requests and ideas for all of the prompts, so no more requests from this card will be accepted. I’m planning on writing and posting all of these within the month of December and probably a bit into January. If you don’t want to see these stories, block the tag #false bthb, if you would like to be tagged in future stories shoot me an ask!

This prompt got away from me a bit so it’s split into two parts. The prompt comes into play in this second part. Requested by @atlasistryingherbest I hope you like the last part!

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

My Sunshine Part 2

Summary: Patton thinks he’s finally caught the break he needs when he finds and falls in love with Roman. Ignoring the warning signs until it’s too late Patton ends up losing more than he had dared to gain.

Warnings: contains human trafficking, implied non consensual sex, unsympathetic Roman and starvation

Prompt: Denied food as Punishment

Ships: Royality, Patton x Roman

WC: 3, 284

Bustling around their bedroom, Patton quickly threw the books he’d need into his bag before cramming it shut with a huff and throwing it none too gently over his shoulder in his haste to leave. Hearing the car horn honk again he slipped on his shoes and practically ran out the door, a grateful smile on his face even in the wake of his boyfriends impatience. Roman insisted on driving him to the campus even if it wasn’t that much of a walk, meaning he could sleep in a little later which he definitely needed even if he was only working one job now. He had been convinced the third month they lived together that the rent was cheap enough for him to only have to work one job- and it surprisingly was for it being a bigger and better apartment than his old one. He knew Roman probably hadn’t split the rent evenly and he would really have to bring that up with him eventually so he could feel more helpful than he was being but for now as long as it was okay with Roman he felt alright using the extra money to help buy groceries and to start building his savings back up; they’d have that conversation when he felt stable enough to actually back up what he would be offering.

Sliding into the car with a ready smile they shared a quick kiss before Patton buckled himself in and they began to move towards his college. He gripped the straps of his backpack and relaxed in the seat processing just how much his life was turning around and how lucky he was that he head found Roman- or rather that Romann had found him. He brushed that thought aside quickly; he had never brought up the fact that he had noticed Roman’s car practically everywhere significant he went, chalking it up as either coincidence or happenstance. He trusted the other now wholeheartedly and it wouldn’t do any good to bring up his nervousness now nearly half a year into their relationship. Spring break was coming up and he knew Roman was planning a small trip to relax, they shared nearly everything they had in the apartment, grocery getting and meal making was always an even split between them and he could never have asked for a better listener than Roman. For the first time in a long time Patton was completely happy; he wasn’t about to start questioning things and ruin it.

“We’re here, my sunshine.” Roman’s voice brought him out of his thoughts abruptly and he leaned back up and smiled. “You were miles away love, are you alright?”

Leaning over and pecking his boyfriend on the cheek, Patton unbuckled his seatbelt and sat his bag on his shoulder as he opened the door. “Just thinking about my classes, it's gonna be busy today. Thanks for the ride Roman, I hope you have a good day at work.”

Before he could leave his wrist was caught in a vice grip making his heart leap in his throat. Forcing himself to calm down Patton turned only to be met with a loving smile that immediately set his nerves somewhat at ease. “No proper kiss this morning then?”

Patton laughed and leaned back in, capturing the other’s lips somewhat messily and wriggling his hand free with a little effort, finally escaping the car and waving. “I have to go you goof! See you later.”

He didn’t watch the car leave as he walked to his first class, heart still beating a little faster than normal but chiding himself internally to calm down already. Roman was needy with physical affection that was all, no need for alarm bells to go off every time something like that happened. It was just- that happened a lot. Even on days Patton didn’t particularly want touched but that was just what you did in a relationship. He thought so anyway having nothing to compare it to. He shook himself out of his thoughts again, appalled at the line they had crossed. Roman was gone a lot for his job, he didn’t really know what he did other than “business” but it sounded important and it meant he was often out of town for the day, so it made sense he’d be more touchy and affection neddy after such long days working so hard at what he did. The least Patton could do was reciprocate and not be so ungrateful, even if it was only in his head.

Classes went by surprisingly quickly; unfortunately with spring break approaching it meant there would be a lot of projects and essays being piled on as a final hurrah before the two blissful weeks of doing nothing but his job. Bag full to bursting with papers and notes and an extra book or two he sighed as he realized he still had his shift to cover at that restaurant before he could go home. He took a deep breath as he began to get overwhelmed, thinking of work schedules and homework schedules and how much of what projects he could get done before, during and after the break was making his head spin. He knew this would all be worth it afterwards, being able to put all of the busy work behind him and be able to figure out what he wanted to major in and focus on that instead of math he barely understood and classic literature that was nice but frankly did not belong on his priority list right now.

It din’t take him long to get to the restaurant but when he did the full parking lot made him want to turn right back around and go home. It was going to be so busy and with him already being so tired he wasn’t going to lie to himself and say this would be an easy shift. No breaks would be had meaning all the school work he had would have to wait until he got home. Sighing and squaring his shoulders he went in, donned his apron and watched as his switch practically bolted out after waving to his nearly full to bursting section. Plastering on his favorite smile and whipping out the notepad and pen he started towards the closest table and hoped for the best.

-----

Hoping, as it turned out, wasn’t suited for high stress situations in which at any given moment he could feel his sanity slipping away from him.

Since quitting the job at the warehouse he had taken up a couple more hours at the restaurant to make up for the lack of a second paycheck even though living with Roman made money trouble’s much easier to handle. Which meant he was running around on his feet more rather than splitting that with ;lifting heavy boxes , which in and of itself wasn’t bad, but that was on a good day. This was decidedly not a good day. It had been so busy that when one table emptied it seemed he had scarcely wiped it down before it was being taken over by another family or couple waiting impatiently for their orders to be taken and their food to be made and brought out. No matter how much he smiled and suppressed his tears at being insulted or yelled at and pushed down the frustration of being left a one dollar tip or none at all the afternoon turned to late evening and it still hadn’t gotten any better.

His shift was finally ended with one last wipe down of a table and he trudged into the back room utterly exhausted, dragging his feet behind him with every step and his thoughts only filled with a hot shower and bed. Swinging up his heavy backpack reminded him however of all the work he had yet to get done and he felt tears threatening to spill all over again. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep after the incredibly crappy day he had had and on top of all that he remembered it was his turn to make dinner. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly Patton stumbled out of the restaurant and towards the parking lot searching for Roman’s car since he had taken to picking him up from work since the move. No dark blue Sudan to be seen. For once, when he was looking for it and not searching nervously for it back before he had met Roman, the ever present car was nowhere to be seen. Adding insult to injury it started to rain slightly, prompting his tired legs to move quicker to avoid the inevitable soaking he’d get.

He was halfway home when a car pulled up beside him, his mind telling him to run and his heart clenching with nerves before a voice- Roman’s voice, called to him as he got out of the car.

“Patton, I’m so sorry! Jeez, come get in the car!” Numbly Patton followed him to the passenger side where he was buckled in and his bag set on the floor, too tired to wave off Roman’s apology as he slumped into the seat. He was too tired for anything really, chin touching his chest more than once on the short drive home. He heard Roman chuckle softly as the engine shut off and he struggled to get his eyes open enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and leave the car. His door was opened before he could, however, backpack being scooped up and then himself being lifted from his seat as he woke up a bit more and wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck, feeling safe and content and secure.

He was set down on the couch before too long, where he could hear Roman bustling around in the kitchen as he had his eyes closed still. Shooting awake and up after a few minutes he made his way over and began rolling up his sleeves, intent on shooing Roman out of the kitchen so he could make the meal.

“Go back and rest Patton.’ Roman didn’t even look up from where he was slicing tomatoes.

Huffing at the dismissive tone, Patton shook his head and grabbed out the chicken patties from the freezer. “It’s my turn to make dinner that isn’t fair.”

Setting the knife down, Roman gently pried the box out of his hands and steered him back to the couch. “What isn’t fair is that you had a rough day and then you had to walk halfway home in the rain and are now exhausted. Take a quick nap Sunshine; I’ll wake you for dinner and then I can help you to organize your school things so that you don’t have to be so worried about it okay?”

“Roman-” He was stopped by a finger to his lips.

“What kind of Prince Charming would I be if I couldn’t help my damsel in distress?” Patton giggled and leaned into the forehead kiss, relaxing back into the couch and closing his eyes.

-----

He hardly remembered scarfing down his dinner or Roman helping him organize his planner. If he could get just a little bit done each day he shouldn’t be thrown too far off schedule and he might actually be able to enjoy his break. Exhaustion dragged his eyelids down and he settled back into Roman’s strong chest and open arms, smiling contentedly as he felt himself be wrapped up in warmth. Everything was so fuzzy, and he was so tired-

“Did you think maybe you’d be a lot less stressed if you didn't have to work at that restaurant anymore?”

The question nearly succeeded at jarring him awake but with Roman gently rocking him and petting through his hair it hardly seemed to matter. He merely hummed in response, barely entertaining the thought as Roamn shifted seemingly to get more comfortable.

“I could even write an email of resignation for you. All you would have to do is sign off on it.”

Patton hummed again, shaking his head slightly though he wasn’t sure if Roman noticed. He liked his job; sure it got frantic and frustrating sometimes but he could handle it. He had to, how else would he help pay for staying here? Loving as Roman was Patton doubted he’d want to-

“I can fully support you without any problems my love. You’re going to college, that should be the only stress someone like you should have to worry about.”

Faintly he heard typing but it was so distant he could barely concentrate on it. He was so warm and floaty and comfortable and safe- it was fine, they’d talk it over more tomorrow, Roman would never make a decision lille that for him while he was halfway to Dreamland.

“Sleep well my sunshine. I’ll take care of everything.” And with a final kiss to the top of his head, Patton was gone, drifting off peacefully in Roman’s arms.

-----

“You agreed it was for the best!”

“I was ASLEEP, Roman! How am I supposed to support myself now? They already had a replacement filling in for me, I can;t go back now!”

“Then it was probably for the best that you got out before they fired you!”

“Why on EARTH-” Patton took a deep breath and held it before letting it out in a whoosh. “They always have temps as back ups, especially in a college town, Roman. And since ‘I’ quit, I’ll have a really hard time getting back in.”

“But I can help you with that-”

“I didn’t ask you to-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Patton took a step back, fear crossing over his features at the darker tone Roman’s voice had adopted. His angry expression smoothed out after a second, but Patton didn’t miss the way hsis fingers twitched. This wasn’t really the first time Patton had been afraid in their relationship but this is just what people did- at least he thought. Roman must love him, that’s why he’d been taking care of him and why when he saw Patton so stressed he had only wanted to take that stress away- Patton really had been an idiot. Hanging his head in shame he walked forward and gently brushed his fingers against Roman’s.

“I’m sorry. I know you were trying to help, I just- I was so tired yesterday, I wish you would have let me think it through properly. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Oh, my sunshine.” Roman leaned down to press his cheek against the top of Patton’s head. “You never could be.”

-----

“You never could be.” So many months later and those words still ring painfully in Patton’s head. Stupid. He had been so stupid. There had been so many warning signs and yet Patton had been too stupid and selfish to see them for what they were and now...he looked mournfully down as his thin frame, skin stretched taunt over what little muscle he had. He was cold. He was miserable. He wanted nothing more than to back in his shitty apartment with his two jobs and college classes he had been trying his best at; but instead he was here, sitting in a dingy room while he waited for someone else to pay for him to make their fantasy come true.

It had been the little things: Roman always being out of town “on business” he would say. Patton scoffed quietly. Some business. The second cell phone that he had found while cleaning, anger crossing Roman’s features before he brushed it off as his work phone, snatching it away just a little too forcefully to avoid suspicion. Then there was that night, his third night of break where Roman had sprung a surprise trip on him “to a nice hotel and restaurant” and too tired and worn to decline Patton of course agreed, glad to be away from the textbooks for little while at the very least.

He had been told to dress nice, some stopping Roman in the hotel’s hall but he had waved him towards the room saying he was just paying room service early. But Patton had seen the huge money exchange and his suspicion seemed to immediately be founded, but where was he supposed to go? H knew n one except Roman, his work contacts were strangers now, he couldn’t call or just simply go home. He was completely and utterly trapped. And Roman knew it. The entire ride to the restaurant Patton had wanted to throw up. He knew what was going to happen but there was no out for him. He was terrified. Terrified to go with Roman but terrified to even attempt escape. He didn’t know how long he had been stalking him, whether it had been when he first noticed the caar across his apartment building or even earlier than that. He should have trusted his instincts, called the police, anything other than brush it off as coincidence and then as an even bigger one when it turned out to be his date's car. He should have left the first time he got scared around Roman, the first time he noticed he was off but he hadn’t, because Roman was his dream come true, the answer to all his problems, his knight in shining armor come to help him get back on his feet.

Instead he was led into a darkened restaurant where he was stared at while Roman left, coming back with a notebook and showing him all the expenses he had managed to wrack up from what he had taken as Roman being sweet and kind. Every rent bill, overdue book, gas, groceries, heating- he had kept tabs on all of it. And It was all very, very expensive.

“Here's what's going to happen.” He had said. “We need a new face to bring in business, so I found you. You’ll work and pay me back every centt, and then you can go. In exchange you get a free ride through college. Fair?”

And in that moment, that crucial moment, Patton simply nodded. What was he supposed to do? Say no? He knew now what saying no would have risked and his stomach growled painfully at the reminder of the punishment he was carrying out. “Deny a client,” he had said. “Deny me and I promise you you won’t want to do it again.” The warning was always close to the forefront of his mind, though he did stills lip up now and then. A no meant no food for the day, since he had already lost the money it was only fair he lost a meal. Simple on paper, excruciatingly difficult in practice.

He curled further into himself as his stomach growled again, going on the third day of his punishment, too tired to care, too utterly exhausted to question when his fall classes started so he could attempt to fix himself up before then. He existed, he floated and that was enough for everyone who came in the room at any given moment, so of course it had to be enough for him.

Patton existed, and his stomach growled and his muscled tightened when he thought he heard noises from outside and his eyes squeezed shut when they dared threaten to let any of his unshed tears fall because the last time he had gotten dehydrated no one had cared until he couldn’t be woken up for an hour. His joints creaked under the weight of his odd position but it didn’t matter, nothing did. He existed and he floated and his groaned and his stomach growled and curled tighter when he thought he heard noises.

And that was enough.

This work is also available on AO3!

#false wries #false bthb #bthb #bad things happen bingo #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #roman sanders #unsympathetic Roman #food mention tw #denied food as punishment #human trafficking #human trafficking tw #captivity tw #implied non censensual touch #betrayal

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