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b0rista · 3 years

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— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness.

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot scenarios #aot headcanons #connie springer #connie springer x reader #aot x reader #connie springer headcanons

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artisqueer · 3 years

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RetroBangBoy AU - The Hangover (ao3)

Notes:

hang·o·ver /ˈhaNGˌōvər/ noun 1. a thing that has survived from the past. Example: "a hangover from the fifties" 2. a severe headache or other after-effects caused by an excessive intake of alcohol or drugs

Characters: OT7

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol.

Jungkook wakes up parched, hungry, and with a pounding in his head. He pushes the covers off his face and down his chest. His long fluffy hair standing from the static of the sheets. He stretches out his arms above his head, dragging out a groggy yawn. It feels like he’s just woken up from a century-long nap. He looks up past his hands outstretched in the air. The posters above his bed are the same. He looks down, past his bare feet at the bottom of the bed. His drum set, books, and gadgets are all in their place too.

Huh…what year is it?

A heavy thump on the other side of the wall startles him out of bed. The crash is immediately followed by a low moan. Jungkook dashes out to the hall where Yoongi is already standing at the entrance of the bedroom next door. His eldest roommate chuckles behind a mug of coffee, head tilted 90 degrees to the side. Jungkook peers inside the room to see the source of the ruckus, his round head naturally tilts to the side as well. They both stand in the doorway, observing their housemate, Namjoon.

On the floor, upside down, legs folded over his shoulders.

“Where are we?” he asks as he looks up at them from between his thighs.

Yoongi shuffles back to the kitchen, holding his head in pain. “It looks like we’re not in Jeju anymore…” His voice is raspy and deep.

***

Jungkook’s round eyes bounce back and forth across their house, looking for clues to explain their current predicament. His head is throbbing with pain too. He suddenly remembers his thirst and runs to the kitchen for water.

Once Namjoon has restored himself to a perpendicular position, he joins them in the kitchen too.

“Why does my head hurt? Did we get shit-faced last night?” Jungkook groans into the kitchen counter.

“I can’t remember,” Yoongi grimaces between gulps of coffee.

“Is it a week-day? We have never gone out on a school night… I would never go out on a school night!” Namjoon folds his thick arms across his chest and blinks. “I’m so hungry.”

Jungkook turns away from the sink and his eyes pop at the sight. A whole ass meal, complaining about the lack of a meal...in the kitchen of all places. pls.

“Me too. We better go out for food. There’s nothing to eat here.” Yoongi says with very little energy.

“How can that be? I always stock up on groceries!” Namjoon frantically checks the cabinets and cupboards, finding them all bare.

“What the hell did we do?” The two eldest housemates look at one another, dumbfounded. Jungkook leans into the kitchen wall, aggressively chewing on his thumb. He's nervous, eyes big and wide. He opens his mouth to speak when the phone rings.

Ring ring ring.

Namjoon answers it, rather desperately. “Hello?”

“Good, you’re home.” The voice on the other end breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s me. Taehyung. Emergency meeting. Your place. Now!”

***

“So, we’re all blacked out from yesterday. We have the worst hangover of our lives. And Bighead and Jin are missing…” Jungkook repeats as he paces back and forth the living room.

Hoseok enters the breakfast nook and sets down an extra-large pan of sunny side eggs and sausage. He steps back before the starved men wipe it clean.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re all so hungry today,” Hoseok scorns them as a smile grows on his lips. He’s thrilled that he finally gets to cook for them. Jin normally does all the cooking.

“You’re not going to eat?” Jimin asks him from behind a mouth full of food.

“I just don’t feel hungry,” Hoseok shrugs. He wipes his hands on his apron. “I brought us enough groceries to last through the week, so eat well.” Oddly, Hoseok has more energy than everyone in the room put together.

Taehyung speaks from the head of the table. “Guys, we’re not all blacked out—which is why I called everyone here..."

They look up at him from their plates, still eating like the food will be taken away if they stop.

"I remember everything.”

Jungkook interrupts. “Wait. Has anyone checked the date?!” He wiggles out of his chair and nearly trips running to the front porch, where the Sunday paper should be.

Having just eaten to the brim, Yoongi yawns and casually turns on the TV set, out of habit. The display does something completely new. Huh, TVs don't have color? Jimin and Hoseok are most mesmerized by this, moving to sit at the foot of the screen as a Coca-Cola commercial plays:

It's more than taste,

Bigger than a name,

As big as your best times,

As good as your best friends,

As real as the way you feel…

Jungkook runs back with the newspaper all spread out into disarray like his long dark hair. “Um…guys?”

There’s a long pause in the room.

“We’re not in the fifties anymore…”

What—

Their wide eyes look from him to the television and back. There’s only one thing that could mean coming from Jungkook…and it’s not good.

“We, uh, must’ve jumped twenty-seven years into the future,” he scratches the back of his round head. “It’s...1985.”

Taehyung clears his throat. “You guys will need to sit down for this. I can explain.”

***

They gather in the living room. Namjoon and Yoongi take up the couch, Jungkook sits on the floor between them, and Hoseok and Jimin share the love seat.

Taehyung’s knack for taking pictures and love for journalism make him a natural storyteller. His fine hands sway in the air as he talks. “You all have varying degrees of memory loss. For some very strange reason, I can remember everything that’s happened to us in the last 48 hours.”

Tae recounts their field trip and the events leading up to the portal inside the Manjjanggul Lava tube. How Jin wanted to hide the portal from the lab, Heaven Inc., but Jungkook wanted to destroy it. How Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi stormed the cave clearing as Jungkook was opening the portal gate. How Namjoon and Jin fought each other as the cave collapsed. And most importantly, how they were all unexpectedly pulled into the warp after Jungkook. All, except Jin and their beloved Bighead.

Their memories start coming back to them, piece by piece. Oddly, it’s as though only Taehyung could trigger their recollections.

“I don’t understand.” Namjoon finds his glasses and puts them on. Suddenly, he looks more like a professor than a biker. Big-tiddied mathematician. “Why is Taehyung the only one who remembers what happened?”

Taehyung thinks for a moment before an unusual blush forms at his cheeks. “Probably ‘cause I appreciate art. So, I remembered.”

“Uhm, ok. And why doesn’t Hoseok have hangover symptoms like the rest of us?” Yoongi crosses his arms, which seemingly grew thicker in the micro-span of the jump.

Hoseok vibrates from his place next to Jimin. His bright smile radiating through the room. “Ooh, I know I know. ‘Cause I’m your hope! Everyone was totally beat, but I could give you my energy. Like sunshine to a dying plant or light at the end of a dark tunnel or a—”

“—mOtH tO a FlAmE,” the rest mock. Apparently, no one forgot Hoseok’s notorious house party pick-up lines. They all laugh.

Could this be? Do some of the jocks have certain abilities now? What about the bikers?

“We have another problem: where is Sweetcheeks, and Seokjin?” Taehyung seems frustrated.

“And another problem: why did we all get warped with Jungkook in the first place?” Jimin pouts. “What about our families, and my—”

“—Cat! Your cat! Cats have nine lives. For three they play, for three they stray and for the last three, they stay. Why...did I just say that? It feels so familiar, so stran—” Yoongi stops talking out loud, resorting to mumbling to himself instead. He quickly grabs the paper from Jungkook and begins searching it for something.

The others continue to talk over each other, flooded with their worries and bits of things they’re starting to remember. The upcoming homecoming game, the unattended house parties, mourning parents, exams, etc.

“Quiet!” Namjoon’s clear and booming voice silences the room.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook fiddles with his tattooed fingers. “I-I don’t know why I dragged you all here with me. That’s what I have to figure out. I will figure it out. I promise. I’m worried too. If Bighead and Jin didn’t get warped here with us, maybe they, they ended up in a different d—” they sit in silence, thinking the worst.

“No no, that can’t be,” Namjoon reassures. “Given everyone’s memory lapse and their expert recklessness, they may have just wandered off.”

“We have to go back,” Jungkook says. “We have to go back to 1958.”

“How? We’re stuck here,” Yoongi deadpans, his nose still in the paper.

“Actually,” Jimin recalls, “on my way over here I stopped by the coffee shop…and um…well my boss didn’t recognize me at all. He didn’t even know my name.” Jimin’s worries grow. It’s unlike Jimin to walk down the street without a single greeting. He is—was—very popular.

“It's starting to make sense...” Jungkook says under his breath.

“What does, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s jaw does the thing.

“People don’t recognize us in this place because,” he pauses, “because we’re not from here. I don’t mean this town, I mean, this dimension.”

Namjoon presses a finger to his lips, thinking.

“We should pick new names and find temporary jobs. To blend in. We can't go back to school, we don't have identification. We need the money anyway,” Yoongi advises, “to support ourselves while Jungkook figures out a way back.” Yoongi seems to have become incredibly wiser after the jump. He peels the paper apart, pen in hand, circling jobs from the employment section. He looks up from the paper again. “How did I know to say that?”

“Whoa, are you like, a genius now?” Jimin sasses, as much to tease him as to distract from the impending doom that is being stuck in the future.

“No.” Yoongi scoffs, withholding a severe blush. “It’s like I’ve read all the books at the library, and lived nine lives since we left 1958. I just, know things.”

Namjoon nods in agreement. “It’s the best plan we’ve got. If twenty-seven years have passed since our “disappearance”, then our sudden re-emergence could bring unwanted attention, or worse…”

“Could someone still be looking for us after all years?” Jimin asks Tae. Hoseok instantly understands and wraps him in a comforting embrace.

“We need to sort this out as quietly as possible. Let’s keep low profiles until we figure out a way to get back to 1958. I don’t want us to get tangled in loose ends.” Namjoon sighs somberly. Being the leader of the biker gang has made him a suitable leader for whatever mish-mosh-of-a-gang this is now. “We’re in a different dimension and we don’t entirely know what that means. It could be dangerous, but as long as we stick together we will be okay. My priority is to keep us all safe.”

At this declaration, all eyes sparkle. Especially, Jungkook’s.

“I got us here, Joon. You can trust me to find us a way home,” Jungkook gets up from the floor, making for the door.

“Stop!” Jimin interrupts. “We can’t go out dressed like this.”

They look down at their clothes. They are still in their 50s outfits.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Yoongi puts down the paper and pouts.

Hoseok pounces off the sofa, “YES! New clothes…get up get up! We’re off to the mall!” He tosses his apron aside and leads them out the front door. Namjoon and Yoongi groan, dragging their feet toward the back of the group.

Jungkook smiles ear to ear. Maybe the world is not quite right, but everything he truly wants is right here with him.

#retrobangboy #bts fic #bts #bts art #bts fanart #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #retro jungkook #80s #biker!jungkook

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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Here we are, I apologize for the delay you guys but I can guarantee you it is so worth the wait! A humongous shout out to my incredible co-author @imlostinsantacarla for writing this with me, I had an amazing time and this is arguably one of the best written posts I’ve done so far. SO without further ado, I give you

Lost Boys Fem!S/O Gives Birth [3/4]

CONTENT WARNING: Offensive Language, Blood, Child Birthing Process, Intense Environment! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

Marko

The soft silver moonlight slithered through the cracks and crevices overhead in the hotel, illuminating your form in a tender glow. You laid casually atop the dusty old couch worn from years of perpetual abuse, staring up into the cave’s ceiling at the little slivers of sky you could see between them, fingers fondling the soft blanket wrapped around you. Nerves caused your heart to stutter as another set of cramps waded through your body, making you feel nauseated. However, you put on a valiant front, hardly batting an eyelash as your boyfriend Marko sat beside you, eyes fixated on your form in an adoring fashion, though there was worry mixed within his countenance, a deep groove carved between his brows. Granted when you had initially announced your pregnancy you could have gone about it differently, however you were met with a joyous response from your adoring vampire. Originally David had suggested they turn you whilst pregnant to prevent any foreseeable complications, but there arose a new set of issues. Your infant would be a hybrid of vampire and human, something none of you even knew was possible. The potential need for a live body could mean that turning yourself before the birth could kill him or her in the process. Even if the birth could result in your death, unfortunately, all you could do was patiently wait, as going to a hospital was surely out of the question. Nevertheless, patience was a virtue- one Marko had yet to achieve.

The months of waiting grew heavier on him as time ticked by, whilst the haunting lack of knowledge grew more frustrating with any passing discomfort he witnessed. His inability to help you outside of a shoulder to cry on when your cramps became too unbearable to sleep through made him feel helpless, a sensation that not only was he unfamiliar with; it was one he absolutely loathed. The boys did their utmost best to be accommodating to the situation, and one certainly had to give them credit for the amount of effort they had gone through. Dwayne had gone to the library for a few books for yourself and Marko, including one or two children’s books for the baby. Paul had spent his free nights shoplifting for supplies you’d need. No one could dismantle and sneak out an entire crib like Paul could. The guy had created a craft in the endeavor. David, with the help of Dwayne, had scoped through the caves and old hotel rooms still salvageable and managed to reinforce one of the rooms closest to their own cave. You eagerly draped the walls in colorful fabrics, finding an old dresser for your child’s clothes with a surface now cluttered with stuffed animals. Toys were crammed into a wooden chest, a massive rug laid across the old wooden flooring to deter any stray splinters from harming you. Watching Paul and Marko stubbornly argue over the crib instructions was certainly the highlight of your pregnancy while David was barking at them to move out of the way when he came carrying in the glider chair in one arm and a mass of pillows in the other. Although, you had to draw the line once Marko had smacked Paul with a two by four. Surely, that was uncalled for. But according to Marko, not so! Best friend or not, no one said he had the building skills of a drunk monkey!

Tonight was the night that would mark round about the eighth month of your pregnancy, and, - if it were truly possible -, Marko nearly had a heart attack when your false contractions came into play a few weeks ago. This ignited a vigilant nature within him, motivating him to remain much closer to you than he had previously been, which resulted in a lot of checking up on every unusual sound that you made. It was impossible for it to be helped. Well, that's what he kept telling you anyway.

"You know, I can skip out on the hunt tonight…" Marko trailed off, cool fare fingertips dancing along the soft flesh of your arms, creating goosebumps to rise in their wake. The contrast between body temperatures was ghastly and you shivered, more at the electric shock that raced through you whenever he touched you.

"Babe, you skipped out on the hunt last night, and the night before, and even the night before that. Marko, you must be starving!" You sighed irately, tipping your head back in frustration before turning it in his direction. Ever since the news of your pregnancy, Marko's primal instincts to protect you and your child had grown in vast numbers. It was pleasant to begin with, almost endearing… Though, as months sped by it had grown a hindrance because the young man was hardly even caring for himself now, and he hardly ever left your side. Honest to God, it was smothering, leaving you almost agitated at the sight of him. He was aware of this, yet still could not resist the urge within him that called for him to aid you in whatever way he could. There was an ample amount of anxiety over future happenstances such as your water breaking, uncontrollable cramps, the ACTUAL birthing of the child! You were understanding of his concern, but there was only so much that could be done. After all, you wanted your baby just as badly as he did. But he couldn’t allow his health to decline due to his own worry, you needed him. And frankly, your sense of unease was bordering onto the bandwagon of fear when you saw Marko’s ribs sticking tightly against his translucent flesh, a plethora of dark circles sinking his blue eyes into his skull. He wasn’t eating, he hardly slept, and soon he wouldn’t be able to control his frenzies.

"I don't know, baby girl," Marko began hesitantly, his round eyes widening as they peered into your own thoughtfully. Worry had never been a good look on Marko, and now, you longed for the days where reading him had been more difficult. His anxiety was like a fungi, infecting your very aura at the same time. "I don't wanna leave in case something happens you know? I mean, yeah, I guess I'm kinda thirsty but that stuff can wai-" You interrupted him with your fingertips gently silencing his lips, your eyes having shut as you breathed deeply to calm your nerves. This boy was driving you nuts.

"Marko, I know how worried you are. I am too. But babe, I can tell that it's getting harder for you to be around me because you haven't fed. I really don’t want to start smelling like a fillet mignon to you, and if you’ve been looking at me like some mouth watering steak, we run the risk of the baby becoming appealing as well, I know you don’t want to risk that." You quipped with a quirked brow, lips tucked up into a wry smile as you stared straight at him. Your case was a good one, there was no doubt about it. There could be a very good chance that Marko, albeit not on purpose, could harm you or the baby if he smelled the scent of blood or even heard a too hasty of a heartbeat. And if there were to be an accident such as that, Marko would be plagued by an immense amount of guilt for all eternity. “Besides, it’s only the seven and a half or eight month point right now. I’m not having the baby for at least six more weeks. Right now, I need you to be at your best. Please babe.”

"But-" Marko began to protest.

"She's right, Marko." David piped up lazily from across the room, his eyes never leaving the book that he had been reading. He turned the page briskly before continuing, "You need to feed. It's the basic terms of vampire-hood. If you don't, you die! Now, what good would that do anyone then?" He inquired sardonically, a trace of a smirk in the air.

"Yeah, bud! David and Y/n are right! Just go on one feed with us." Paul grinned from ear to ear at his bestest pal in the whole world, despite the horrifying fact that said best friend had hit him in the head with a two by four. Excitement had been rushing through Paul's entire being during this whole process. He was going to be an uncle man, how could he not be excited?! It had been such a bummer since Star left with Laddie, it’d be cool having some new tiny mind he could influence. Not that he'd even get as far to really influence the child without getting a brisk smack to the back of the head by David before you and Marko could even lift your fingers. No, he would not be teaching your child about the world of “Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll” at five years old!

"I mean-"

"With the way you're going, you're gonna be a shriveled prune." Dwayne muttered out of thin air as he slowly rolled past Marko and yourself on his skateboard. The hulking raven haired vampire came to a standstill as he stepped slowly off of his board. Dwayne was also right. Marko wasn't looking his brightest. Feeding was a nightly routine for a vampire in order to ensure they took in the right nutrients their dead bodies could not produce for themselves. Especially since they weren't capable of absorbing those nutrients through human food any more. Marko had to feed, there was no whisking his way around it, no matter how many excuses he could come up with.

The trio of boys stared at the curly haired blonde, your eyes also capturing his form. There was a stretch of intense silence that flooded through the hotel as Marko thought over his options, pushing a mesh of frizzed blonde hair away from his face. He didn't want to risk going out and a possible complication occurring with the baby or yourself. But he also didn't have a strong desire to cause a catastrophic accident whilst going into a frenzy when your heart rate started skyrocketing due to cramps or whatever. Already his mouth was watering profusely as he stared down at his worn hands beginning to wither from lack of nourishment, the consistent thudding of your heart and the delectable rush of your blood in your veins made it practically impossible for the man to focus for much longer.

"Man, just go! I'll stay with her." Paul finally interjected, slightly irritated that his buddy was being such a pansy about the entire situation. "If anything happens I'll scream at the top of my lungs or something, man. I got this! Scouts honor!" Paul added sarcastically, flattening a palm over his heart as he raised his free one up by his head. The entire thing looked comical, it made the others laugh.

"Yeah, sure, let me get the flowers early for the funeral," Dwayne muttered, settling himself on another dusty old couch with a soft sigh.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dick breath?" Paul roared, brows pulled together in anger, punching Dwayne’s shoulder..

“Can you even give scouts honor if you were never in it?” you asked with a laugh to your tone, raising a brow at the blonde trying to rapid punch the utterly indifferent vampire planted in place.

"Dwayne has a good point, Paul." David sneered at his comrade, blue eyes lit up like torches watching Dwayne yank Paul into a headlock on it’s way to a noogie. "You remember the last time we-"

"Ow! Okay, I didn't know she wasn't allowed to drink alcohol! But she never drank any so I don't get why you guys keep bringing this shit up!" Paul muttered, managing to wiggle himself out of Dwayne’s iron grip. With stubborn stomps he huffed, flopping onto the edge of the fountain in the middle of the room, his chin resting on his hands. He stared at you and Marko for a moment before continuing. "Man, I swear I won't pull another stunt like that again! I can take care of her! Dwayne told me the gist of what she can and can't have. I can do this, buddy." it was practically the most pitiful thing you had ever seen, it even tugged a little at your heartstrings.

You looked to Marko for confirmation and from the twinkle in his eyes, you could tell he was thinking the same thing as you. 'Let's just let him do this so he can stop pouting like a brat.'

"Alright, alright!" Marko stated, gloved hands raising up in the air in defeat. "You can watch out for her, but if ANYTHING happens, man, you've gotta go and find me. No fucking around and no fucking weed either!" Marko was firm as he spoke, eyes boring seriously into Paul's.

The sun broke out onto Paul's face, his pearly whites glinting from the fires scattered around the hotel. You could tell in that moment that Marko had made Paul's entire century. "Fuck yeah! Scouts honor, dude. Just like I said before!" the blonde rocker was practically bouncing in his seat like he needed a piss. He hardly looked like a badass biker vampire that went out murdering people left, right, and center every night. He looked more like a baby rabbit.

“I fucking mean it man,” Marko firmly repeated. “No weed, no booze, no being a dumbass.” Although he was being firm there was a slight twitch to his mouth. Being stern with Paul was often impossible but you had to admit, Marko was doing a grand job without the two by four!

Paul threw his hands up in the air in such a rushing motion that you were surprised they hadn't flung out of their sockets. “God damn, trust me man. I’m not gonna let anything happen! You guys need to gimme more credit here, who’s the one that stole a fucking crib for you assholes?”

With a tenacious huff, you wedged your hands behind your back feeling that the full weight of your belly was determined to keep you jammed between cushions, but nevertheless, you managed to heave yourself up and off of the dusty old couch with an audible grunt. The four boys' heads turned to watch you, instinctively with brows furrowed. They thought they'd insisted that if you needed to be moved, they would help you rather than let you strain yourself any more than you had to. But you were impossibly stubborn! You had insisted on multiple occasions that it was necessary for you to move, even exercise to keep you and the baby healthy. None of them were willing to humor you but you’d found that tuning out their protests was the best course of action in most occasions. And by impulsive habit, Marko dove over to offer you assistance, though you only responded by swatting his hands away from you. You were fine!

“I’m fine Marko, don’t worry I can get up on my own. Anyway, Paul’s right,” you agreed, looking over at your friend who beamed with delight at your praise, arms crossed over his chest with a nodding head of total satisfaction as if you had just given a mighty speech. “He’s not gonna let anything happen. Besides, what could really go wrong in just a few hours?”

"Babe, don't say shit like that, you could jinx it!" Marko cried incredulously, eyes practically bulging out of his head.

"Babe get a grip. There's no such thing as “jinxing” things." His worrying was really starting to bug you. And what did you do in turn? You did and said the exact opposite of him, a way to subconsciously counteract the apprehension that oozed out of him like a foul smell. Carefully you took his hands into yours and placed them on your taut belly. “See? Feel for yourself.”

For the past several months Marko had attested to being able to hear your unborn spawn within your stomach. Not necessarily thoughts, but emotions. Cluttered, wild, uncertain emotions that would come in jumbled waves. There was a weary contentment within you, sleeping soundly in a cradle of water kept safe within. Finally his muscles began to relax, tension beading out into limp arms as Marko pulled you in for a firm hug, holding you against him.

“You promise me.. If anything happens, you scream for me immediately. No toughing it out because you’re worried about me eating.” He mumbled sweetly into your hair, taking in a slow inhale of your heavenly scent. It was the one thing that could soothe his soul instantaneously, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Marko-”

“Please, Y/n.”

His plea made your heart ache with slight agony. It was a desperate rasp, his arms almost trembling. There was a rush of relief filling him when you wrapped your own arms around him with a tender smile. “Okay. Alright, I promise, if anything happens I’ll call for you,” you hummed in tender response. For a moment you had to take a moment to pause, feeling a low and deep, sharp pain stretching from your abdomen to your back. Instead of making a fuss you tried to ease your breathing before Marko could notice. You weren't prepared to allow a few false contractions to get the better of you and stop him from getting his fill of the blood he so desperately needed at this point. And you also weren't going to play into any of Marko's anxieties either. You could do that when he returned from his hunt. Gently you lifted his chin. His cold lips felt cracked against your own, cementing how desperately he needed to feed. Even his kisses grew hungry, and you had to pull away from him before this grew into a horror show. “Go, you goof.”

It had taken some further convincing for him to leave, by the time he finally left with David and Dwayne it almost felt otherworldly in that cave. The lack of presence was almost spooky, though thankfully Paul was nice enough to loan you his walkman to curb the initial silence. Playing his Def Leppard tape you sat back into the couch, breathing through the occasional cramps that would continue to sneak up on you in a pulsing fashion. Hysteria was always your favorite album, as the dulcet tones of the rock ballad began to lull you into a half sleep state. But the continuous bombardment of contractions had begun to grow concerning. They weren’t slowing down, nor consistent in their spaces between as they should be. Cautiously you sat up, counting out the seconds between the first and the next. One minute, two minute, three… and again. For a full minute your muscles spasmed and ached, almost drawing an audible gasp from your mouth. Again you counted. One minute, two, th- no! Now it came again at a two minute interval. In a haste you peeled the headphones from your ears, grasping your stomach as you leaned forward suddenly. Your legs buckled, every time you tried to stand the pain just dragged you back down. “Fuck.. oh go- Paul!”

The blonde vampire was so lost in his own world he was nearly jolted out of his seat by your panicked cries. “What, what’s up you- JESUS!”

Without missing a beat, Paul slipped on the floor beneath his feet, barely having the reflexes to catch himself before his face could meet the ground with a harsh smack. The floor was soaked! Seriously, who spilled water everywhere? “Damn man, what happened here? Why is it all-” again, his words were paused, almost as if they'd been caught in his throat whilst he looked over your doubled over form clutching your profound belly. “Oh- oh shit! Oh fuck no way! Shit, holy fuck shit are you-?? Is it?!”

“Yes! ” You cried out incredulously, cutting off his panicked questioning in a hasty fashion. A sudden cry escaped your lips whilst you gasped in desperation, your spine going erect as you flattened your palms out behind you to stabilize yourself. "Oh god!"

"Oh shit man, I better get Mark-" Paul began, face having dropped to terror.

"No! I swear to go- ow! Paul, if you even dare- I swear I will stake you myself! Ow!"

“What, are you crazy?!” He demanded, jutting his arms in your direction. “You swore you’d call him, dude! This is big, man, he’ll kill me if anything happens to you! Oh fuck but he’ll kill me if I leave you alone- Fuck!” Paul swiftly kicked over one of the tables, running his hands through his mess of hair. The thing looked more like a lions' mane in all honesty. “Bed! We gotta get you to your bed, like now!”

"And how are we gonna do that, asshole?"

Paul's face soured immediately at your insult and with a swift motion, he swung you up into his arms bridal style, paying little mind to your plethora of protests. “Shut up already. I’m not doing this for my fuckin’ health! But you gotta be in bed! I may be a dumbass but I at least know that much!” He muttered, carefully tightening his grip as you attempted to wiggle out from it. He rapidly stepped over tunnels and rocks whilst he swung his way into the cavernous nursery where your bed was nestled into a corner, his calloused fingers on one hand releasing your legs as he pushed the black curtains that draped heavily over the frame. And with that, he placed you gingerly down on the bed, staring at you with a perplexed expression with a hint of something else. Was- no, that couldn't be embarrassment.

"What're you staring at," you questioned, a nervous twinge to your voice. You rolled on your side to relieve some of the pulsating throbs that ran rampant through your muscles.”

"Uh- well- shit! I mean, we need to take off your pants, man. What if you start pushing and the baby suffocate or something?"

“I can’t even start pushing until I know how dilated I am,” your voice was quivering, clutching your stomach. “If I were to push too early it could kill us both.”

"Oh fuck! Where's Marko when you need him?!"

The dreaded predicament was growing increasingly deadly the more your body warned of its approaching birth, and soon you were left with a terrifying decision. Wiping away the thick layer of sweat misting your flushed cheeks, you managed to breathe out a hesitant response. “Paul.. You have to go get him.”

"I’m sorry, WHAT?!" Paul’s voice echoed in the caves at a high pitched octave. “No! No freaking way, I am not leaving you here, you’re having a fucking baby! What if something happens to you? Fuck Marko being haunted, there’s no way I would be able to live with myself!” Paul ranted on, throwing his arms in the air whilst he paced around the sides of your bed in an antsy motion.

Sobs made your chest spasm uncontrollably, rolling over again onto your back. No position provided relief anymore, the contractions following still at an even two minutes each. “It could be hours before I’m actually ready to give birth! We have to know h-how far I am a-and the only way to do that…”

“...Yes? What way, c’mon maybe I can do that!” Paul stopped dead in his tracks to face you, serene as he had ever been in his entire life.

“You’d have to stick your fingers in me,” you groaned with imminent embarrassment, receiving an equal look of humiliation and horror from Paul’s pale face. He looked down, then at the cave’s entrance. Guilt plagued him, this kind of decision had never been put in front of him before. He knew his options were slim, but he also knew where they hunted, if he could catch Marko’s scent outside he could easily find him. But again, he looked at you writhing in pure agony on top of your bed in tears. A knot tore at his own gut like someone was trying to rip them right out of him, his throat aching when he swallowed, a dryness had developed from nerves. “You sure you can handle it until I get back. You fucking swear you’ll be okay? Just for a few minutes.”

You could only nod in response as the pain was so debilitating it rendered you utterly speechless!

“Please, just go get him.” You managed to squeak out intensely. The expression of pain mixed with fear that captured your beautiful features truly did break his heart.

Paul sighed deeply in defeat, his fingers gently pushing your hair from your face. “Stay tough kiddo, I’ll be fast as fucking lightning.” You hadn’t even seen him leave, a huge gust of wind caused the bed to shudder, leaving you utterly and completely alone.

Kicking away your soggy jeans, you promptly pulled yourself to the top of the bed with your back pressed against the headboard. With every passing contraction you fought to breath evenly through it, fingers tightly clutching the sheets beneath you. “Fuck...god Paul hurry please!”

Paul flew as speedily as he could carry himself through the air, his nocturnal eyes aflame, rapidly scanning the ground for any sight of his buddies. The fresh scent of blood wafted through the cool night's air which coaxed him closer to the boardwalk, perhaps a mile or two north. The fucking sand dunes, of course! Sure enough, amongst a towering, crackling bonfire stacked high with the charred remains of surfboards that belonged to screaming Santa Carlites currently being devoured, there he spotted the trio of vampires tearing and ripping into the flesh and bones of unfortunate victims. Their blood spraying in odd directions, splattering across their clothes and hair. "Marko!” Paul yelled far louder than he needed to, panic evident on his countenance whilst he clumsily crash landed into the wind whipped rouge sands below. The display caught the attention of his brothers immediately as they finished off their prey in a geyser of crimson fluids, leaving the ground stained.

Marko dropped the lifeless shriveled up human carcass he had been cradling savagely in his arms to the ground with little interest for it any longer. His previous frail lineament now long gone, replaced with a healthy complexion. Although Marko felt he was back to his full capacity, he couldn't help the immediate apprehension and terror that sparked within his chest as it panged in his gut nauseously. "Paul?! Dude what the fuck are you doing here, where’s Y/N?? What's wrong?" He asked, panic straining his voice.

"Dude! Fucking hurry up! I think Y/n's in labor, man!”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Marko demanded, grabbing Paul by his jacket. “You fucking left her?!”

“Marko, man, listen! One minute she was okay, the next she's screaming bloody murder and the fucking floors drenched!" Paul panted, doubled over as he'd flown here with all his might. "Before you ask, she's on her bed, okay? I took her there myself, even with her kicking and screaming. Dude I swear I didn’t just ditch! I swear, man I didn't wanna leave her but she said she needed someone to stick their fingers inside her or fucking whatever cuz if she pushes the baby will die, I dunno man but I'm not itching to do that ever!"

Marko said nothing, primal instincts kicking in full throttle as he sailed through the air and headed straight for the cave. His mind wandered to perilous details in furious cluttered thought, things that already created all the more apprehension to to twist in his gut, turning them round and round. His thoughts immediately went to the fact that you were alone in the hotel, in the purest of all agonies, having to go at this on your lonesome. The closer he sailed over the coastline the more he could hear. Your voice was just in the distance carried on the winds in gut wrenching cries that tore him apart. His next thoughts dwindled on your safety as well as the babies. He was very aware that there was no doctor involved in the mix, which meant no hospital and certainly no pain killers. He was terrified as his mind blasted through the worst of the worst. Didn't women used to die of childbirth back in the day? Was there a possibility that you could die?

Marko hadn't even noticed that the others boys had been hot on his heels, prepared to offer aid wherever they could.

"Marko, man! Slow down!" David called, struggling to keep up with the pace in which his pal was flying. The little bugger had gotten a head start, fueled by his pessimistic contemplation. But Marko didn't halt or slow down for that matter. There was no time for any of that! He had to get to the hotel and into your room as swiftly as possible, he wouldn’t dare slow down! What the hell was David even talking about anyway? Slow down?! Slowing down would do nothing but increase the chances of something else going wrong. He knew that the moment you'd spoken the words of, "what could go wrong in a couple of hours", that you had completely and utterly jinxed the entire night!

His body dove and swerved through the hotel passing caves and holes, nearly crashing as he sped to a desperate stop inside the nursery. Your screams were crystal clear, as though they were right there, yet the sound rattled his ribs until he thought he would pass out. Still hidden away behind pitch black curtains, he could almost see your pitiful form writhing in limitlessly excruciating anguish. Rapidly his steps carried him to your bedside where you were still smothered in fresh blood, wrenching away the curtains. The sight was a visage of carnage torn straight from hell itself! Yet you only saw your dearest prince, and it was truly a sight for sore eyes left distorted by cruel tears. His coarse hand clutched yours immediately, providing the first rare moment of sanctity you had felt. The sudden motion and contact from him startled you tremendously, causing you to shriek when another contraction sent you into a panic. "Hey, it's me, baby girl. It's just me." He cooed comforting down at you, his free hand smoothing your damp hair from your sweat slick face. He probably looked like hell, still covered head to toe in his latest victims blood. That probably wasn't the most hygienic state for him to be in during the birthing of his child. But he had to work with what he had. There wasn't exactly running fresh water in the hotel anyway. It was almost unbearable for him to watch you, the color drained from your cheeks, grasping his hand until he swore he heard bones begin to crack.

“Marko.. I-I can’t push yet.. I d-don’t know how far I am,” You choked out, pressing the back of your head into the mattress when pulsating rivers of agony wove through you in cruel waves. The pain was now a disarray of spontaneous choreography, a violent tempo swelling and spreading throughout your entire body, leaving your brain foggy and black spots waltzing at the corners of your vision.

Before Marko was able to utter a word, the three boys bounded into the room, breathless and covered in a film of dampness, no doubt most likely from the crashing waves of the sea that battered along the cliffs' edge. The intrusion was noisy and agitating, leading to Marko's eyes becoming beacons of flourishing orange and his head whipped towards the guys. "Will you guys get lost? I'm not about to have you guys stand there like the Triplets of Fucking Bullshit while I try to figure out how dilated Y/n is!" he practically roared, the cave was shuddering for a moment as specs of dust flitted sporadically to the ground.

“Marko, baby, please calm down," you begged him, placing a hand on his forearm. The sight of him still smeared in blood was one thing, but such rage even at his brothers almost frightened you, his head practically whipping around to face you with fangs bared and piercing white hot eyes tearing into your own. It felt like he had stared straight through into your soul which was certainly not what you needed currently. The petrified expression left plastered across your palored cheeks made Marko feel incredibly remorseful, running his fingers through his hair. He was running on little sleep and barely had enough to satiate his lingering appetite, leaving him still quite exhausted.

"It's fine. We'll clear out. C'mon boys." David stated, Dwayne having already left. He stared pointedly at Paul though, who was staring at you in fright. He felt as though he should be there, however, with David staring at him so intently, he glanced over your way. You could only give him a weakened smile, your gaze assuring him you were safe now. Paul hung his head low and squeezed past the spiked blonde boy briskly. And David followed suit, not sparing another glance your way. It seemed cold but truthfully, David wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation. Heightened emotions made him uncomfortable. David was better away from this specific spotlight, and currently his friend was in a frenzy he wasn’t willing to have escalated in such a delicate moment. He'd deal with the aftermath once the storm had passed. Marko could deal with the storm singlehandedly if that's what he so desperately desired. I mean, David hadn't knocked you up, so why get his feathers ruffled when he wasn't wanted there anyway?

“You… owe th-them an... a-apology,” you managed to pant out, wearily smacking his arm when a moment of relief between contractions allowed your voice to return.

Marko huffed, shimmying off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair as he climbed on top of the bed with you, shutting the curtains. “I’ll make it up to them later babe, now’s not the fucking time.” Marko grumbled indignantly, his vampiric features morphing back to his human ones.

It was incredibly important for Marko to ensure that you were dilated 10 centimeters. This was not just for the babies sake but also for your own. If you pushed too soon it could prove fatal for you and your child. There was an instinct in you that told you to push, though Marko insisted adamantly that you hold off on pushing for the meantime. Stress riddled Marko to the core as he knelt down in front of you on the bed, his fingers comfortingly stroking your inner thighs prior to pulling back and nearing your entrance. To begin with he slipped in a finger, pushing softly as the books had told him until he reached the surface of the cervix which if he hadn't been reading the books that Dwayne had given him, he would have thought it didn't exist. Instead, he was met with a rubbery balloon-like texture which he knew was the bag of waters that held your baby. He slowly retracted his finger and added a few more, until he was certain that you were way past the 5cm mark. "Ow! B-babe! Tbh-that hurts!" You complained loudly, back arching off the mattress as you flinched, brows knitted together in contorted pain.

"Really?" Marko snapped, eyes meeting yours whilst his fingers froze within you. "You've had much worse in there and a few fingers hurt? Sheesh!" He stated slowly, his expression flattening momentarily. And suddenly, as if by magic, the tension that had been suffocating the pair of you lifted somewhat, causing the pair of you to chortle for a moment before you winced, a grimace clouding your expression.

"Shut up you complete asshole, h-how about I sh-shove a watermelon up you butt, s-s-see how you like it,” you breathlessly laugh, leaning your head back against your pillow. “So, c-can I p-push now, or not?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty certain that you're 10 centimeters now, babe."

Some form of twisted relief washed over your soul in that moment as you let the instinct to push was over you. There was a slow, long drag pulling through your back. It was like a tiger had dug it’s hooked claws into you and was pulling them down through your flesh. The endeavor was tiring, grueling in fact, leaving you dizzy and exhausted. But yet there was a set determination that took over you whilst you pushed desperately. Your toes tightly curled in place, grunts and panting replaced by blood curdling screams that sent chills down any who heard it. Tears made it impossible to see, the salty concoction of tears and sweat staining your face. Everything burned, you were fearful you may pass out. Though as soon as you pushed you found yourself holding your breath, to which Marko had to coach you through how to breathe. A deep breathe in and another deep breathe out. In through the nose out through the mouth. Well, more like, in through the mouth and back out again. He also had to remind you when to rest,especially when he took note of exhaustion blanketing across you.

“Marko- I can’t! No, no! Fuck I can’t it hurts so fucking bad,” you cried out until your throat was raw, having to be snatched by him before you launched up, pinned precisely in place by his steel grip. “No, god, I can’t do this! Please, I-I can’t I can’t it h-hurts!”

"Come on, baby girl you can’t stop now! You have to hold still, it’s gonna be okay, you've got this." Marko encouraged ceaselessly, offering his pale hand to you to hold. Using his other he cemented you in place, knowing one wrong move could kill the baby. Your strength caught him by surprise when you snatched his hand tightly, grateful he couldn’t feel the crushing grasp of your fingers as his dead bones began to crack. Fortunately for him, years of rigor mortis and rot had decayed most of his nervous system by now. He held your head back on his chest, continuing to coax you with tender words. “Almost there baby, almost I know it hurts, I know, I’m so sorry baby." He whispered softly into your ear, his cool breath fanning across your hot flushed skin. You swallowed thickly, almost as though you were in a trance as you continued your strained pushes. A pinkish liquid spilled out and onto the sheets in a cruel, seeping motion. Marko noted it’s scent carried a heavy copper tone and glanced down as the pale salmon tint deepened into a dark crimson hue. Your screams had nearly numbed his ears by now, although it was not a sound he desired to grow accustomed to.

Marko softly unwound his arms around you, though he kept his left hand in your ironclad grip. He needed to ensure that blood was the baby’s head crowning and not some horrendous miscarriage. He wouldn’t dare mention the alternative to his mate mid-birth, pushing away the blankets covering your legs and to his amazement there was your baby's head crowning momentarily before slipping back inside. From what he'd read, this was a completely normal process, your pushing, in conjunction with your contractions would continue to shift the baby down the birthing canal and out of you. Your heels dug into the mattress with your back arching upward as your mouth was aghast in treacherous suffering, a hideous cry drawing tears from your eyes. The room began to sway, the pace of your heart was that of wild horses unleashed on an open plain. Heat grasped you from every angle, it was getting harder to breathe the more you fought through it. Fear grabbed hold of your lungs, squeezing violently, picking up your heart rate until Marko could hear it thundering beneath your rib cage like a frightened animal wanting to be let loose of its cage. Your rapid labored breaths carried a concerning pace that had him beside you once again.

“Marko.. T-the room..,” you tried to whimper out between screams, head swaying to the side staring at the pitch black curtains that somehow seemed to be seeping into your surroundings. You could feel the drag pulling down your back into your birth canal, you were so close but the sheer exhaustion tempted you to faint at any moment. “I..I can’t..” you gasped out under your breath so quiet he almost thought he'd imagined the words.

"Just one more push, babe," Marko pleaded, brushing his hand over your damp forehead. In a sweet, yet ardent motion your hair was pushed back from your face. You clung to his hand, pressing your forehead against his frigid palm savoring the relieving rush of cold. The sight of his wide eyes connecting with yours forced a momentary breath of air, those perfect blue pools gave you something to focus on. The blackness was scattered, a last scream forcing it's way out of your throat as you gave one final push, the dragging motion within you halting. Light faded in and out of your vision, rapid black splotches flickering around the room, the pain becoming dull and pulsating. You hardly even noticed the muffled, shrill cries emitting from your newborn, or the fact that Marko had already had her wrapped in a towel once he'd cut the umbilical cord. Your chest shuddered when you breathed, the small pink infant squirming beneath white fabric making whimpering grunts. Small fingers stretched out, clutching at Marko’s shirt.

“Marko.. Wh-what are they,” you groaned our, flickering lashes barely keeping you conscious.

Marko hesitated to glance between misted eyes, choking out a stunned laugh. “A girl…”

The blood stained her red skin, and before he could wipe away the sticky red substance off her fingers she suckled at the red liquid, eyes bright white just as his were when his fangs were bared. She had yet to form her own, and when there was none left on her hand they had faded back into little grey, uncolored orbs. The lack of food had become noticable, and she let out a fussy whine, kicking her feet against the blanket in a fit. So that's what she needed to feed on. Marko gently bounced her in his arms, nuzzling his forehead against hers until her tantrum was subdued. “Shhh shhh, it’s okay baby girl.. Plenty of time for that later... Daddy will bring you a big ol bag of blood when mommy feels better, I promise.”

You blinked away tears as she was delicately passed into your arms, weighing no more than eight or nine pounds just as weary as you were. “Wilhelmina...,” you choked out, brushing your fingers across her plump cheek.

“Billie huh?” Marko asked, laying on his side beside you with his bent arm elevating his head, his fingers reached out to brush against the blonde dusting of hair on the head of his daughter, a grin plastered on his face, an exhausted twinkle dancing in his eyes. "I like that... Wilhelmina it is.."

He now felt like finally, in these eight months of your pregnancy, that he could catch some shut eye. Time had become distorted, he had no idea whether it was daytime or night time any more, the two may as well have been blurred together. In your safe haven of thick black flowing curtains, Marko placed Billie delicately into your heavy arms, slumber already having wrapped you tightly in its deep and vast embrace. He curled his fingers around the dark fabric, pulling it skeptically out of the way. The room was swallowed in darkness, however, his nocturnal eyes easily scoped out the shut door at the other end of the room. He thought for a minute, capturing his bottom lip in between his teeth. He chewed on it for a moment before pulling himself up and off the bed. Truthfully now that his territorial rage had fizzled out he knew he owed the guys for how much of an ass he'd been when confronted with your unexpected labor.

With tentative steps, so as not to disturb you, Marko flitted towards the shut door, no light seeping underneath the crack of the door. He twisted the knob carefully, a low squeak creeping into the air as he opened the door. He stepped out into the passageway leading to the main cave and began a somewhat hurried stroll. Honestly he was ecstatic to tell the boys. To show them his daughter was something he was practically bouncing on the spot for he couldn't wait!

Marko, briefly unaware with his contemplation cluttering his mind, did not fully register the danger as he stepped forward into a stream of sunlight just up ahead cutting clearly through the decrepit roof of the hotel. It wasn't until the searing sizzle of his flesh did he register that he was caught aflame from the sun's rays. With a shriek he recoiled, battering at exposed flesh to kill the flames. He smoldered for a moment, back pressed to the wall as he peered into the vacant lobby of the ancient hotel. He sighed, shaking his head in dismay. "Dammit! Well... I guess they'll just have to meet Billie tonight then," he concluded with finality, not giving it much thought before he turned and made his way back to your room with heavy eyelids, finally content. As he padded softly into the room, shutting the door behind him, Marko couldn't help but feel relief wash over him. It was an enormous weight lifted from his shoulders now that he'd be able to go out to feed without fearing something could happen to you. That was more than enough to cure him of any and all anxiety that had previously immobilized him.

As he settled himself underneath the covers, he brought you closer, baby Billie placed tenderly between you both and he grinned half halfheartedly, a dopey, wide grin that pulled on his heavy eyelids. "I'm kinda glad you jinxed it, babe." he breathed into the air before he allowed the weight of sleep to shut his eyes and encapsulate him in its lulling motion.

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stargazer-balladeer · 4 years

Text

Their Reaction to their S/o Having Fear of Bugs [Pokémon]

Characters Included: Bugsy, Aaron, Burgh, Viola & Guzma

Note: I posted this in Quotev, but I decided to post it here as well :) I think the Bug Type Users are underrated so this is me showing love towards them :3 This could also be me being “self-indulgent” as usual o3o. Hope you enjoy this :3 (Hope they aren’t too OOC though ;-;)

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warning: Mild spoilers in Aaron’s for his Anime appearance

BUGSY

Of course this boy will be saddened at the fact that you have fear of the type he expertise at (he's called "The Walking Bug Pokémon Encyclopedia" for a reason). But he's actually understanding, I mean, have you seen him?! He's so innocent looking!

Anyway, he's a patient and understanding man. If you two hang out, he'll try his best not to let out his Pokemon around you, or near you at most. But sometimes, his Pokemon does the exact opposite of what he wants. Scyther is, unfortunately for you, an affectionate type. So she'll be trying to hug you, and you'll be frozen still as Bugsy sweatdropped at the background.

If ever you two live together, you might need to get used to his Pokemon team. Especially since Bugsy likes keeping stray Bug-Pokemon if he ever sees one just wandering around and wounded. One time, he brought in a Pinsir, and you're just so frightened by it that you'll not go near the (poor) Pinsir.

Bugsy, for sure, would try to make your fear go away, but he wouldn't push it. He makes your comfort his number 1 priority. But he wouldn't admit out loud that he's actually hurt that he has a s/o that has fear of bugs, but he understands. He knew that Bug Pokemon isn't exactly a Pokemon that you would normally not fond of.

BUT! If you actually ask for Bugsy's help for helping you get over your fear, he would be ECSTATIC. He would grab a Butterfree, whom he befriended in the forest, and start from there. It would be, of course, be hard but he's patient with you and doesn't rush you. He's an ideal boyfriend to have really (I'm so jealous ToT SANAOL).

"Okay, [Y/N].. just place your hand here." Bugsy instructed while pointing at Butterfree's head, which made the Pokemon chirp happily while still fluttering. [Y/N] gulped while staring at the flying Bug-Type, they were far away from Bugsy and Butterfree. Bugsy offered them a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, [Y/N]! If you're not ready yet, then--" "NO" Both Bugsy and Butterfree jumped at [Y/N]'s voice.

[Y/N] took a deep shaky breath while clenching their fists in determination. "I-I want to.. I-I'm ready.." To prove their point, they started walking towards the two gawking figures. Bugsy quickly recovers as he smiled brightly at his s/o's determination. He lightly pats the back of Butterfree, nodding his head at the Pokemon, who nodded back at him. [Y/N] walked towards them with confidence, which gradually fades the nearer they got. They stop infront of the fluttering Pokemon as they stare at the two beady eyes of it. It was creepy that it made shivers go down [Y/N]'s spine.

[Y/N] snapped out of their trance when a warm hand cupped their clenched hands, which was turning white from how hard their clenching. [Y/N] look at Bugsy with wide eyes, as they stare at him bringing their hands to his mouth and kissing it. He opens his eyes and smiled at them. "Relax yourself. I know you can do it.. just give it a try, alright?" Bugsy said in a soft tone, to which his s/o nodded their heads. His smile broadened as he intertwines his right hand with their left while guiding the other to the expecting Butterfree.

[Y/N] could see that their hand is gradually going near the butterfly-Pokemon, so they squeeze their eyes tight as they expect to feel the head of Butterfree. Bugsy felt his s/o tense so he use his thumb to run circles on her hand. "Look at me, [Y/N]." When his s/o did that, he smiled at them. While [Y/N] was distracted, he quickly but gently puts her hand on top of Butterfree's head. They squealed when Bugsy did that, but soon began relaxing at the feeling of Butterfree's head. "Whoa! It's so soft!" [Y/N] cried as they began petting the head.

Butterfree happily chirps at the feeling, enjoying it's head being rubbed. Bugsy watched as his s/o pets the Bug-Pokemon with a happy and proud grin on his face. "You did it, darling! You did it!" Bugsy enthusiastically hugs [Y/N] while them still petting the Butterfree. "It's so soft.. and rather cute." Bugsy happily chuckles at her statement while hugging her tighter. "I think you can touch Scyther now, [Y/N]." [Y/N] absentmindedly nodded their head, still distracted by how soft Butterfree's head is.

They were enjoying the moment, when a familiar-looking green Bug-Pokemon came in view. She was running towards the hugging couple. This caught all of them off-guard as Bugsy lets go of [Y/N], and [Y/N] being engulfed by the enthusiastic Scyther. Bugsy and Butterfree blinks in confusion as they look over at [Y/N] frozen state and Scyther cuddling the poor [gender]. Bugsy and Butterfree sweatdrops at the sight before both sighing.

"Too soon."

AARON

Aaron went through a stage where he hated Bug-pokemon (mainly his Wurmple, now a Beautifly) and though they were useless and weak. But he soon regretted it and was reunited by his precious Pokemon. He, out of all the guys and girl, can relate to you the most and understand your fear, probably better than Bugsy.

Even though he looks like an impatient guy, he's actually patient. I mean, he has a team of Bug Pokemon, and you need patient when using them in battle. So he's a patient guy, especially to you as his s/o.

Have you seen his team? Yeah. It's not an ideal team to have if your s/o have fear of bugs. Luckily, they don't fit inside the house, if you two live together. But going outside, he would probably not let his Pokemon out if your around like Burgh. But unlike his, his Pokemon understands the situation and just sTAY IN THE BALL.

You're probably not really scared at his Beautifly, I mean, yeah it's a bug. But it's too beautiful to not like it. But you still froze when Beautifly comes near you. Aaron is just relieved that atleast you're not afraid of one of his Pokemon.

Like I said earlier in the first bullet, he went and gone that stage. So he understands. But if you don't want or like his Pokemon type, then bye-bye. He probably doesn't be with you if you did that so... yeah. I can see him as a guy that wants his s/o to be willing to grow out of their shell, rather than being inside. But if he sees that's not gonna happen, then I'm sorry. He'll dump you straightaway.

BUT if you do want to get over your fear, he will be happy of course. And will, of course, start with Beautifly. He will be patient with you, like Burgh, and guide you through the process of getting rid of the fear completely. Or just letting you be comfortable with his Pokemon Team, atleast.

"It's not gonna use a move on me, right?" "Yes, [Y/N]. He wouldn't do that." Beautifly cried his name in agreement with Aaron, as they stared at [Y/N], who was currently hiding behind a tree. Aaron sighed while rubbing the side of his temples. [Y/N] has been asking the same questions over and over and over again, it's getting tiring how Aaron and Beautifly have to reassure them eVERY TIME. [Y/N] stared at them with narrowed eyes and deep frown. "You sure?"

Aaron took a deep breath to calm down as he exhaled. "Do want or not to get over your fear?" [Y/N] pouted at him as they sulk in their self-pity. "I'm trying! But it's just so scary!!" Aaron sighed once more before making his way towards his s/o. [Y/N] knew what he's doing and glared at him. "Don't you dare--" "Too late" Aaron grab their wrist and started pulling them towards the ever-so-patient Beautifly. "NO!" [Y/N] cried as they grab a branch from the tree.

And now, they were having tug-at-war as they screamed at one another. Beautifly looks at both of them before sighing. It's gonna be a loooong day...

BURGH

Burgh will be saddened at the fact that you have that kind of fear, but he understands. But all his life, he's grown up surrounded by Bug-Pokemon, and he loves them with all his being. He kinda understands but he usually evades the topic of your fear.

I headcannon that his fear is that when he finds his s/o, they wouldn't accept his passion for making clothes, drawing or painting and his Pokemon Type.

Burgh doesn't let you any near his house, since its polluted with different kinds of Bug Pokemon. He also keeps his Pokemon team in their balls.

I actually can see that you don't realize that Leavanny was a bug Pokemon so you were cool with it, but you realize it was a Bug Pokemon if someone else mentions it. (Cue Burgh glaring at them).

"Wait.. Leavanny is a bug Pokemon?!"

"Yeah.. well, part."

"..."

"Sweetie?"

*faints*

Lmao, I just imagine that scenario happening. But I think you'll still be cool with Leavanny, because it just doesn't look like a Bug Pokemon since it reminds you of your Lilligant. (I ship them, lol)

I don't think Burgh will live with you until your fear is either gone or your comfortable with Bug Pokemon. Because if he did that, he would see his Bug friends go :'(. And Burgh doesn't want that to happen.

If you tell Burgh you want to get over your fear, he would be overjoyed! Before you could finish your sentence, he would pick you up and spin your around while laughing merrily. He was very happy that you would get over your fear because of him, and yourself of course.

He's also patient of you. (I think all the ppl who trains Bug Pokemon are patient--). And would do everything for you to get over your fear.

"Sweetie.. she's not gonna bite. I promise." [Y/N] can only whimper in response as they pressed their face even more in Burgh's neck, or rather, scarf. Burgh chuckled as he rubs the back of his s/o while whispering reassuring things in their ear. Sewaddle, a Pokemon that is living with Burgh at the moment, was waiting patiently as she looks at the couple with interest. "I-It looks like it." They cried as Burgh continued to rub circles behind [Y/N]'s back. He shushed them softly. "There there.. don't think about that."

"C'mon sweetie! You can do it! Just pet her head.. that's all you gonna do." Burgh said as he forced himself to pry [Y/N] from his embrace. He smiled at them as he wipe the stray tears that fell of their eyes. "I believe in you, sweetie." On cue, Sewaddle hop into Burgh's shoulder and cried happily at [Y/N], as if cheering them on. [Y/N] stared at her before gulping nervously and raising her hand.

Burgh's eyes brightened but stayed silent as he and Sewaddle anticipate [Y/N]'s movement. When [Y/N] reach to the height of the Pokemon, they froze. Sewaddle decided to jump into their hand, which made them shriek in surprise. Burgh's eyes widened as he (tries) to comfort his poor shrieking s/o, while the innocent Pokemon only stare in confusion.

VIOLA

Viola is super understanding and patient, like so much that it might make you cry. She knows it's common to have something you're afraid of and being a gym leader in Santalune City proves that. Many Trainers shriek at the sight of her using Bug Pokemon. She can only sigh and carry on the gym battle.

She always takes a picture of you, whether you knowing or not. She would just whip out her camera and snap a picture of you. When she finds out you have a fear for the Type she expertise at, it was actually an accident. When you two were on a date one day, and her Surskit decided to pop out of its Pokeball and cuddle you. She blinks when she sees you frozen at the presence of her Bug Pokemon.

Even if you have this fear, she wouldn't love you any less. She might be a little disappointed but just shrug it off later on.

If you two live together, don't worry. Her Pokemon is well-trained and usually just stays outdoors or in her room, or in the kitchen. Afterall she just only has 2 Pokemon in her disposal.

Out of all these people, her team is ideal in you getting over your fear. It was a simple yet okay team. So you might quickly get used to them. THEY ARE SO ADORABLE. WHO WOULD HATE THEM?!

What is that? You want to get over your team? "Fantastic!" (Pokemon Masters voice)

She is so excited that she just makes her Pokemon come near you.

But if that doesn't work, then she doesn't mind work. She would work hard for the both of you so you need to give it your all as well!

"C'mon mon amour! Surskit is nice! She'll not bite.. actually, she doesn't have a mouth to begin with." Viola muttered the last part as she watch [Y/N] cower in fright in the presence of the tiny Bug Pokemon. She's actually amused at the scene but she had to hold it in so that it wouldn't further aggravate the [gender]. "Just pat her head. Pat pat" Viola made a patting hand motion with her hand while smiling reassuringly (amusedly).

[Y/N] looks at her before shifting their gaze at the Bug Pokemon in front of her, who happily cried its name when their gaze was on her. They took a deep breath as they slowly puts their hand on top of Surskit's head. Viola nodded happily, feeling a familiar giddily-feeling in her chest. "That's it, love. Just a bit more."

Finally, [Y/N] pats Surskit's head, who hummed when feeling their hand. Their eyes shone at how soft Surskit was, except the pointy-thing on top of her head. They excitedly turn their head to look at their proud mother girlfriend. Their smiles match each other, and both thinking the same thing.

"SUCCESS!"

GUZMA

We all know our ol' man Guzma. The leader of Team Skull. Old friend of Kukui. Helped Lusamine in creating a portal to a different dimensions. Yadda yadda.

He's actually not a very patient guy, much to my dismay. But when it comes to you, he is VERY patient with you. He actually (shock) understand your fear of bugs. I mean, have you seen his team? Yeah. Not ideal for someone who's scared of Bug Pokemon.

But even with his rough exterior, he wants your comfort and makes it his top priority. So, despite his appearance, he doesn't force you to have your fear completely remove.

He actually doesn't mind if you have that fear really. He usually just keeps his Pokemon inside their Pokeballs or outside (their huge). All he's asking for you is that you don't mind them, he'll do the rest.

This exactly happens if you two live together. He'll let you do your own thing and he'll do his. I mean, yeah, it sucks that you don't like his Pokemon. But can't force it, can you?

But if you approach him and just straight up say you want to get over your fear. He'll froze a bit, his mind not comprehending before just hugging you so you don't see his internal turmoil.

"SHIT SHIT SHIT WHY? I MEAN THAT'S GOOD BUT HAVE YOU SEEN MY TEA-- oh wait.." *cue him remembering he has a Masquerain* "Oh yeah.. I forgot about him."

So yes. Guzma will be understanding of your situation and patient at the same time. We all love our boi Guzma <3

"C'mon, pua. You can do it." Guzma encouraged [Y/N] as he tries to push them towards the awaiting Masquerain. [Y/N] paled at the sight of the fluttering Bug Pokemon as they gulp. "D-Do I have to?" Guzma sighed for the umpteenth time. Luckily, he's as stubborn as a rock. "Yes. Wasn't it ya who suggested it?" "Yeah.. but--" "Alright! Then move closer!"

[Y/N] sighed as they nervously hold their hand out. This action though made Masquerain fly towards her hand and snuggle to it. [Y/N] froze, stiffening like a statue. Guzma saw this and sighed. "I guess it's not so easy as I thought."

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

Info:

pua means flower in Hawaii language (I search it in Pinterest and this pop out. Please correct me if I'm wrong)

mon amour means My Love in French language

[x] Main Page || [x] Pokemon GSC, HeartGold & SoulSilver Page || [x] Pokemon D, P, PL Page || [x] Pokemon BW & B2W2 Page || [x] Pokemon XYZ Page || [x] Pokemon S&M, US&UM

#pokemon #pokemon x reader #bug expert x reader #bug trainer x reader #bugsy x reader #gym leader bugsy #aaron x reader #pokemon aaron x reader #pokemon aaron #burgh x reader #viola x reader #guzma x reader #pokemon burgh #gym leader burgh #gym leader viola #skull leader guzma #team skull guzma #self req❣️

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defschoice · 3 years

Text

The Foreigner Part 1

Characters Got7, Stray Kids and Reader/fictional character

Genre: adoption, kidnapping, family reunion,

Words: 3255

Summary: One day she gets kidnapped and taken to South Korea and when she wakes up she's in a big room that looks like a dance practice room which it also is and it's located at the company called JYP. She's been stuck there for a few hours over night when a bunch of boys comes in to practice and finds her when they start to speak to her they find out she doesn't speak Korean that well so they can't communicate with her in any way until they find out that she's very similar to one of the boys but still different in a way

Crystal's POV

It's was now Monday the 21th of July and I have now been in this room for 20 hours without any food or drinks or anything. I don't even know what kind of place this is or where in the world I am.

I was sitting thinking to myself about how I could get out or when there would maybe come some when I heard footsteps and voices. It sounded like a bunch of male voices which I'm not a fan of at all.

As I crawled down to the nearest corner of the room the door opened and it stormed in with boys and the light also got turned on which hurt my eyes at first.

When they saw me all their talk stopped and they just stood there and looked at me.

"Hey, little one. What are you doing here?" He said but I didn't understand a word of what he was saying.

"Aish! I don't think she understands what you're saying Mark" a tall man with a brown mullet said.

"Try and let Jackson or Jinyoung speak to her, maybe she understands them" the mullet man continued to say.

The others stepped away when a semi-tall man came over and sat down in my level as he started to speak a language I actually understand.

"Hey how are you?" He asked and I slowly started to losen up a bit because of how soft his voice is.

"I'm afraid" I said to him as he took his arms around me.

"Do you understand me if I speak English to you?" He asked as he took a piece of hair behind my ear

"A little bit" I said as he nodded his head.

He stood and walked over to other boys.

"So what did you talk about with her?" A very tall man asked him as he looked at me.

"Well seems to be that she doesn't really speak but she understands a little Korean" The boy with glasses said to all of them as they nodded their heads.

"So if we s say something to her she won't reply with words? The tall boy asked.

"Basically yes unless we learn her some Korean." The The boy in glasses said as he looked at me.

As I sat there in the corner another of them came up to me and he was kinda pretty for a man being.

As he came closer I became more closer to him I ran up to The boy in glasses and hugged him tight as he took me up in his arms.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves so you know our names. Wouldn't that be a good idea?" He asked me as I nodded my head and hurried it in his neck.

"Well I'm Bambam and I speak Thai sometimes" he said as I nodded.

"Hi, I'm Jinyoung"

"Hi, I'm Yugyeom"

"Hi, I'm Jaebum"

"Hello, I'm Jackson"

"Yo, I'm Youngjae"

"Hey, I'm Mark"

They all said one by one.

As I was sat in Jinyoung's lap he looked at me.

"What's your name sweetie?" He asked looking at me.

"3276" I said showing him my arm with the numbers on.

Jinyoung looked worried at the other boys and then at me "Sweetie, don't you have a real name?" He said as I just looked up at him with big tears eyes.

I just nodded my head as a no.

Crystal's pov

The boys looked worried at me when I nodded my head as a no. I hate attention especially when it's all on me and nothing else. I could feel how my eyes started to tear up as I thought of everything that had happened and my parents so I just yelled out "mummy!" As I hide in Jinyoung and started crying softly.

"Awe sweetie, I'm right here okay? I'm gonna protect you" he said as I started to calm more down while the boys just awed.

Soon after I was carried over to a couch as they all were starring me which I didn't like as I mentioned earlier.

"We're gonna have to do some dance practice now, so you can just sit here and watch us, for the time being, is that okay?" Jinyoung asked as I nodded my head and they started dancing.

A few hours later

Darkness. That's all I can see. Not again. Did the boys kick me out or throw me back to the bad guys? Please don't! Not that place again.

There's nothing I can hear. It's all quiet. Suddenly footsteps are coming towards me, ripping the darkness away from me. Looking at it, I all this time had a back over my head. Where the hell am I?!

"Well hello, sleeping beauty. Did you have a nice nap?" The man in front of me asked. I just sat shocked to answer him. Big mistake. Next, I knew was pain on my cheek. Where're the nice boys when I need them?

"Answer me, you little brat!" He yelled at me. I jumped in fear, causing him to smirk. Pain from my side always made him happy. A sick kind of happiness. Remember only for eomma.

"Y-yes, s-sir" I answered in fear.

Smirking he walked over to the dark side of the room. What does he even want from me anyway? I have nothing. I'm only here for eomma so she doesn't get the pain and has to suffer more.

Turning all the lights on, he revealed a woman. Tied up, just like me. Please don't be eomma!

"You see, 3276 I know I have never been able to break you. Yet. Do you know who I found walking around in the streets yelling your name? Your very own mother" He said ripping the bag away from her head too. No! Not her! He already killed appa. Not eomma too!

"Eomma!!" I screamed with tears in my eyes. She locked eyes with me. Crying too.

"You see 3276. She is going to suffer too. All because of you. I hate to do this to you. Wait, no. I don't. I know this is the only way to break you from the inside." He craped ommas neck hard caursing her to gasp for air.

"If your omma didn't fall in love with your coward of an appa. We wouldn't be here" He started. Punching omma in the face. Leaving a bloody nose. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAUGHTER!!" He screamed, making both omma and me jump in fear. "But no! She chose Nick, you asshole of an appa!" Yelling again he begin to beat her up. Being more and more violent. Until I screamed he would never be my appa. That was the last drop he needed. He pulled out a gun shooting omma multiple times all over her body.

"EOMMA!!" I screamed, looking in the eyes of Jinyoung. Crying my eyes out I jumped down from the couch and in his arms. Holding tight onto him.

Jinyoungs POV

I don't know how long we had been practising but suddenly I heard small cries coming from the couch. I stopped the music and made my way to her. Is she okay was the only thing I could think of. When I saw her I immediately yelled the boys over. How the hell do we wake her? We started to yell her name. Nothing. Shaking her she sat up bright and screamed omma. We locked eyes and she soon was in my arms. Holding onto me like I was going to dissapair in front of her. I hold her tight. Calming her down. What did she go through to have this bad of a nightmare?

Jinyoung's POV

I looked up at the other boys as they all looked worried about what just happened. I hugged her tight as I could feel how she was crying and shaking.

"Guys I think we should end practice for today and just get home" I said with a sad and serious look on my face.

As we were walking down the hallways of the jyp building, Stray Kids came walking towards us.

"Are you guys done with practice?" Chan asked us.

"Yes we are, you can use it now if you want to" Jaebeom replied looking quick over at the girl and back to Chan again.

"Great thanks, mates" Chan said as he did the bro hug with Jaebeom.

Right before he left to be with the rest of SKZ he looked at me with a questioning look on his face.

"Who's that little princess?" He said as he lightly giggled at bit.

"I'll explain it you later bro" Bam said as Chan just nodded his head and went into to practice with the others.

A few hours later

Jaebeom's POV

As we arrived at our dorm, we all went over to the couch and sit with Jinyoung and the girl.

"How about you tell us a bit about yourself?" Mark asked with his soft voice. She slowly nodded her head as she was clinging on to Jinyoung after from what happened.

"I'm 10, idk my name, I have no family and I like music" She said with a cute little voice.

"We are your family now if you want to live with us?" Youngjae said as he smiled at her. She nodded her head and slowly got up from Jinyoung's chest and now just sat on his lap.

"What of kind of artist do you listen to?" Jackson asked her calmly.

"I really like listening to NCT, I think they have a really cool style in music" She said as she suddenly lighted more up in her mood and became more relaxed around us.

"Nice, do you have a favourite in the group?" I asked her whilst smiling at her.

"Yes, I really like Taeyong he's so cool and especially with his rapping" She said as she got all excited about it.

"How cute!" Yugyeom said as he laughed a little bit.

As we all started to clean up around the house, she came up to me and looked at me.

"Jaebeom oppa, when can I get a name like you guys?" I looked down at her big brown eyes who shined like diamonds and crystals as i lifted her up on the kitchen table to sit.

"What do you want to be called?" I asked her as she shrug her shoulders "I don't know, can't you choose something?" She asked looking tired.

"Sure I can. What do you say about we call you Crystal?" I asked where and her eyes lit up like stars in the night sky.

"I love it Jaebeom oppa, thank you!" She said as she hugged me quick and let go again.

"Where's Jinyoung?" She asked suddenly going back to being terrified as she grabbed on to my hand tight.

"I think he's in his room, come here let's go into him" I said to her as I lifted her up in my arms and placed her on my hips as she immediately gripped tight onto me like something was gonna happen.

"It's okay I'm right here, nothing is going to happen to you" I said trying to calm her down as we reacted Jinyoung's room.

"Jinyoung, there's someone here who wants you" I said when Jinyoung came up to take a tired and scared Crystal in his arms.

Jinyoung's POV

After Jabeom left I placed her on my bed and started to change into my pyjamas.

"Jaebeom has given me the name Crystal" She said shy.

I looked at her in awe.

"How nice, do you want him to be your dad?" I asked as she slowly nodded her head while she quick said "Pls don't hurt me for choosing him" I sat down beside her when she flinched a but.

"Crystal, look at me. I'm not going too hurt you, I would never do that. It's great that you find trust in him. I'm the mum of this group anyway, so you don't need to worry and if anyone ever hurts you, then we will take care of it" I said as she hugged me tight and stared crying as I tried to calm her down till we eventually fell asleep both us.

Next day...

Jinyoung's POV

I looked around in my room as I realised what happened yesterday and found a sleeping Crystal in my arms. I sat up and let her sleep as I went out in the kitchen and started cooking breakfast for the boys.

Soon the the kitchen was filled boys who clearly where hungry for the food.

"Hyung, this smells delicious!" Yugyeom said as he sat down at the table together with Bambam and followed by the rest of the boys except from Jaebeom who hasn't come out yet.

"Hey Jackson have you seen JB?" I asked looking at him as he just shrugged his shoulders a bit.

"Last time I saw him he went into your room to check on Crystal I think" He said as he filled his mouth with Rice.

Sooner than later JB came out in the kitchen with Crystal half asleep in his arms as he sat down at the table.

"Hey princess, did you sleep well?" I asked as I walked over to her taking her up in my arms so JB could eat.

She just nodded her head as she rubbed her eyes "Mmmm" she just said yawning a little bit while she rested her head on my shoulder.

"Hey Youngjae, could you and the other boys watch her for me and JB as we have some stuff we need to do" I asked winking at JB as he choked a bit on his rice.

"Sure Hyung, We can take her to the park. What do you say to that Crystal?" He asked as she just nodded her head slowly.

This is going to be interesting as she doesn't really speak to other than me and JB, but I can feel that she will connect fast with Youngjae.

Youngjae's POV

Me and boys decided to take Crystal to the park so we or she wouldn't disturbe JB and Jinyoung hyung.

"Crystal, don't want to go play with some of the other kids at the playground?" I asked her as she just nodded her head as a no.

Until Jackson got up and said "Come princess, I'll go with you" He said clearly more excited about this than Crystal but she agreed with going along with him in the end.

Before they left Mark yelled to Jackson "Yo Jackson you better not loose her, okay? Keep an eye on her and stay close to her" Jackson just nodded his head not really carrying about what Mark said I think.

Jackson's POV

As we walked to the playground I looked down at Crystal as she looked up at me.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked her as she pointed to the swings and we went over there. As we got closer and I started swinging her I noticed a really pretty girl like omg she is breathtaking. I looked at Crystal as I said.

"Sweetie, uncle need to go for a short time. I'll be back again soon I promise but you need to stay here okay?" I said as she nodded her head and continued to swing by herself.

15 minutes later...

As I went back to the swings where I left Crystal she was gone... shit the boys are going to kill me when they find out. I started looking for by slowly calling her name so the boys wouldn't notice that i literally just lost her until Mark came over and tapped my shoulder as i flinched a bit of nervousness.

"Hey Jackson, how's it going?" He asked smiling but I knew that smile and it wasn't a good one it was the I know you did something wrong but I'm trying to kill you right now smile.

"It's going great hyung don't worry" I said trying to play it a bit cool.

"Great then where is she?" He asked putting his arm on my shoulder.

"We're playing hide and seek so I can't tell you" I said trying to come up with a lie hoping he wouldn't find out the truth.

"Why don't you just tell me that you lost her instead of this?" He said looking straight at me.

"Fine... I got distracted and when I came back she was gone. I'm sorry" I said looking down at the ground.

"I'm disappointed in you cuz you didn't listen to me as I said but let's find her before it gets dark, wait here and I'll tell the other boys.

Crystal's POV

As I sat on the swing waiting for uncle Jackson to come back I saw a butterfly, it was so beautiful so I had to follow it not watching where I was walking or in which direction when suddenly i was lost and couldn't find back to where uncle Jackson and the others where.

I got really scared as I'm not used to be myself in a place i don't really know. I tripped over something and started to get an anxiety attack as to boys was walking up to me which made me even more scared.

Felix's POV

As me and Han were walking a little late night walk along Han River we saw a little girl who was sitting on the grass crying so we walked up to her but she started to flinch and get even more scared.

"Hey calm down we're not trying to hurt you, we just want to help you" I said as she looked up at us for the first time.

I took her up on my lap as we sat on a bench when Han whispered to me "Yo Felix doesn't she look a bit like Changbin?"

I looked at her once again and saw it a little bit but not much.

"What's your name?" I asked her while trying not to sound too scary with my deep voice.

"C-Crystal" she said sounding very shy and scared.

I looked at her trying to calm her down.

"Nice. My name is Felix and that is my friend Han Jisung" I said as she bowed shortly at him and he bowed back.

"What are you doing out here alone? Where's your parents?" I asked her as she became even more silent.

"I was with uncle Jackson at the swings and then I got distracted by something and got lost" she said as something hit me when she said Jackson

"Jackson as in Jackson Wang from GOT7?" I asked her as she just shrugged her shoulders.

"I just want JB appa and Jinyoung eomma" she said as she started crying into my chest.

"We know your appa and eomma" I said to her as she lifted her head once again.

"You do?" She said sniffling.

"Yeah they're in the same company as us, we talk to them a lot" I said as she calmed a lot more than she's ever been this whole time.

"Let's take you with us back to our dorm as it's getting late, okay?" I said as she nodded her head yawning a bit as I lifted her up and we started walking towards the dorm.

We sooner than later arrived at the dorm and as soon as we went in Changbin widened his eyes as soon as he saw her.

"Yoona???" Changbin said shocked...

#Spotify #got7 #jackson wang #jaebeom #jinyoung #youngjae #jaebeom fluff #stray kids #changbin #bang chan #hyunjin #jeongin

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years

Text

Endgame

Pairing: Nobunaga x Reader

Genre: Modern AU

Rating: Fluff and Smut

Word count: 1720

Written by @rikumorimachisgirl for Anonymous

A/N: Not the Marvel movie. 😁

The score was 94-92 in favor of the Echigo Samurais. With three more minutes left in the fourth quarter, you press on the Azuchi Warlords assistant coach Mitsunari to call a timeout. Echigo has played a running game throughout and led by as much as ten points in the dying seconds of the first half of the game, but Shigen Takeda openly blowing a kiss at you seemed to have ignited something in the Warlords, as your boyfriend and team captain Nobunaga Oda led the team, powering through the second half.

You hurriedly handed out towels and sports drinks to the players, who were more than happy to receive them. All, except your boyfriend, who showed no interest in joining the team as they huddled around Mitsunari. A sudden power fluctuation caused the electronic boards to reset, giving each team extra time to rest and strategize, but he didn't move from his spot. He was a sight to behold - his eyes fixed on the scoreboard, his expression unreadable. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of girls cheering.

"We love you, Nobunaga!"

You winced at the unabashed declarations of his fans seated on the right side of the court but kept your gaze at him. To your surprise, he gave them a sideline glance and winked, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his wristband.

The fans screamed like harpies, as you sighed, dejected. Normally, he wouldn't pay them as much attention as he just did but given your latest argument and the fact that the man in question wasn't backing down, you knew your boyfriend wasn't about to give you any preferential treatment.

"Are you two still fighting?"

You almost jumped at the sound of a voice speaking quite near you.

"Ieyasu?"

Standing next to you, the small guard cocked an eyebrow at you, annoyed. "What are you being all jumpy for?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to hear you sigh, " he replied, toweling off his sweat-drenched blond hair. "You must be daft if you think I'm going to take instructions from Mitsunari."

"He's the assistant coach for a reason, you know."

"Yeah because our head coach opted to play team captain today instead of watching from the sidelines, " Ieyasu said curtly, shifting his gaze to Nobunaga. "So, why haven't you made up yet? You're making our lives a living hell."

You knew how difficult the team's lives have been since that fateful day when Shigen Takeda - of all people - saved you from nearly being mugged by a group of thugs on your way back to your apartment from a quick trip to the grocery. Of course, no sooner than he had beaten up the perpetrators, pictures of the two of you together circulated throughout social media. It only took less than an hour before your own boyfriend saw the picture himself, and of course, the picture he had to see was that of you flashing a gorgeous smile at Shigen to thank him for saving you.

"He really has been giving us a tough time, you know. I couldn't feel my legs last night after practice."

"Well, I would talk to him but he hasn't been responding to my messages nor answering my calls, " you whined. "He hasn't even come home since that evening. Is he staying at Mitsuhide's?"

"You think Hideyoshi would allow that? You better make up with him immediately so that Mitsunari can use his room again. He's been staying with me for two nights now, I might murder him if he stays another night."

The referee whistled to call the players back, and you watched Ieyasu walk back to the court with the rest of the team. You caught sight of Nobunaga making his way back as well, and without thinking, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"I have a game to play -"

"I'm sorry, Nobunaga, " you said, cutting him off mid-sentence, as your vision started to blur. "There really wasn't anything else that happened. You're the only one for me."

He sighed, and broke free from your grip, only to capture your hand in his. "We'll talk later. Right now, I have a game to win. Don't worry, it'll be over soon, " he said, smiling as he wiped a stray tear from cheek before running to his post. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ieyasu rolling his eyes, and Masamune giving you a thumbs up. Your heart soared, knowing that your boyfriend will do everything he can to keep his promise.

The game ended at 95-94. The entire stadium erupted in cheers as the Azuchi Warlords won the championships once again, three years in a row. Hordes of fans and reporters gathered around the team to take pictures and interviews, as you watched from the sidelines with a huge smile on your face. One by one, the Warlords took their leave to go to the locker room and change. All except your boyfriend, who was still with the press alongside Mitsunari. By the time they'd finished with the interviews, most of the players had emerged from the locker room, looking refreshed and ready to party.

"We're all going to The Castle to celebrate, " Masamune Date, the team's small forward, and resident playboy told you as he stepped beside you to watch Nobunaga thank the reporters and fans for their support. "I suppose it's safe to say you won't be there later…"

"Please, Masamune, it was your idea to leave these two to party on their own, " Ieyasu said, sounding bored while watching your face turn red. "Just make sure you don't make a mess like you did the last time."

"The last time?" Your eyes widened like saucers. "We've never done anything nasty in the locker room, I'll have you know!"

"Actually, that was me, " Mitsuhide Akechi, the team's center, chimed in sheepishly. "What? The team manager of the Anegawa Daimyos was asking for it, clearly. Anyway, we're leaving. This is all up to you now. Don't forget to lock the door."

You blushed harder, waving them off before you made your way to the lockers where your boyfriend now was.

"Nobunaga? I'm coming in, " you called before stepping into the locker room. Except for the sound of water running from the shower area where your boyfriend was, the room was incredibly quiet. Slowly, you made your way towards the shower room, stopping by the entrance as Nobunaga's perfect physique, which the glass door did very little to hide. His arms braced the wall, as the stream of warm water cascaded down his back, his tight bum and his long legs.

As if caught in a trance, you decide just then to give him a celebration he won't forget. You stripped off your clothes, careful not to make any noise while you do. After you'd folded and set them aside, you hurry to the shower room before you lose your nerve.

The sound of the glass door sliding made him tense, and he immediately glanced behind him.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to decide to join you since you were taking your sweet time, " you responded quietly.

Your retort made him smirk, and you found yourself pinned against the tiles as he molded your lips with his. It was quite a sensation - the cool surface of the shower tiles on your back and the heat of his body pressed against yours almost made you melt.

"You were waiting?" He asked in between kisses.

"You said earlier that we'll talk - oh…, " you gasped as he pushed his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours.

"Yes, I said we were going to talk, " he said, catching his breath before capturing your mouth with his once again. "You've been a naughty girl, socializing with our rivals."

"I have not, " you said, panting while pulling him in for another kiss.

"Playing the role of damsel in distress, " he continued, as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Trying to get me jealous."

Your eyes flew wide at his admission. "Jealous? You?"

"And this surprises you?"

"Yes, " you replied, pushing against him hard enough against the wall. The warm water from the shower only made your body feel hotter, as you trailed kisses from his chest down to the tight muscles of his stomach, and finally dropping to your knees as you held the girth of his cock, and gazed up at him. "I'm surprised you're jealous especially because you should know by now that I crave only you."

You flicked the tip of his cock with your tongue, tasting his precum that leaked out of his hardened member. Your eyes never leaving him, you lapped up and down his length slowly again and again until he groaned. Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he shoved his cock into your mouth, reaching all the way to the back of your throat. "That's it, baby. Suck me harder, " he said, his breathing ragged. You placed your hands on his hips for support and he tightened his hold on your hair as he fucked your mouth.

After a while, he pulled you to your feet and backed you up against the wall once more. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he entered you with one swift motion and drowned your moan with a kiss.

You clawed at his back and kissed him desperately. He was rougher than usual, but that didn't seem to bother you. You were so close to orgasm as pleasure coursed through you as he pounded into you relentlessly. You missed this - you missed him - and you knew you weren't going to last.

"Nobunaga!" You cried out as you flew into orgasm, and he followed shortly after, grunting loudly as he came. As soon as you both came down from your high, he carefully set you back on your feet but didn't stop holding you close.

"I missed you, " you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you too, " he said, as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "And I'm sorry. It was foolish of me to act like I did."

"I'm glad you agree. I won't ever leave you, you know."

He smirked. "I know, baby, " he said. "Because you and me, we're endgame."

The end.

#ikemen sengoku fanfic #ikemen sengoku #ikesen fanfic #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga x reader

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leonawriter · 4 years

Text

Home Territory

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs/Mononoke

Pairings: Dazai/Chuuya

Characters: Kunikida, Dazai, Atsushi, Ranpo, Chuuya, Fukuzawa, Mori.

Summary: Kunikida has concerns over Dazai's living arrangements, and fixes things with paperwork. Chuuya is having a crisis of his own, of a far more benign nature. And both Fukuzawa and Mori are reminded of how difficult being the leader of an organisation is when your subordinates aren't always human.

(Part four in the “Not All Kitsune Have Nine Tails” ‘verse. Follows “Smoke and Fox-Fire.”)

...

Once could be passed off as a fluke. A case gone south didn't always end up with everyone back at the agency, or even back home, so with Dazai having gone missing partway through things taking a turn for the strange, he hadn't even questioned Atsushi on why he hadn't come back with a bandaged nuisance in tow that night.

The next morning he'd been similarly distracted by the fact that despite not having seen or heard him arrive or leave the Agency's dorms, there Dazai had been, in all of his red and fluffy glory on his chair, and making more trouble than usual. And that was saying something, given that what was usual was making Kunikida want to tear his hair out.

He had started to actually notice on the second night, when the dorms - despite it being late enough that Dazai should have been back, in theory - were yet again noticeably quiet.

He must have gone out drinking again, is his first thought on that, although something about it feels off. Possibly because Dazai hadn't on one of his notorious pub crawls that would inevitably end up with the police calling him up in the middle of the night for quite some time now, and- it struck him as he continued that train of thought, why it felt wrong. Dazai had been arrested not all that long ago. Not for something as minor as disorderly behaviour, either, but his actual crimes. The serious ones. Surely he wouldn't put himself in that sort of situation again so soon after such an experience...?

Even so, Dazai never showed up all throughout Kunikida's own nighttime preparations, and he wasn't about to interrupt his own schedule and routine for one man just because that was probably what Dazai wanted.

So he came into work again the next morning... and there Dazai was. Again.

Whatever he had been up to, it certainly didn't seem as though he could have been drinking, or at least not to the degree that he had found him in countless times before. There was no lingering smell of alcohol on his clothes, or smoke, that would follow him around the room if that were the case, as had happened before. If anything, there was a sort of musk that followed him now that hadn't before, which confused him until he realised that it was the scent of fur.

None of which explained where Dazai had been the past few nights.

All he was left with was the vague idea that he couldn't have been roughing it in a park - and why do such a thing anyway, when he had a perfectly warm and dry bed to go back to? - or drinking until he rotted away in a cell, and he was clearly going somewhere.

Somewhere that both Ranpo and Atsushi, it seemed, were aware of. Which... while reassuring, and made him at least feel that wherever Dazai had been it couldn't have been anything that would put him in any sort of danger, or anything would be a cause for concern, was still frustrating.

Somewhere that made him at least several minutes to an hour later to work each day, he noted, a glance at the clock telling him that it was closer to the latter this time than the former.

The door to the office opening inward disrupted his thoughts as he prepared for either a client having come on foot, or Dazai, and at this point either was a distinct possibility - only for the first thing to come through the doorway to be an impossibility he had somehow grown used to over the past several days.

A single red ear made way for brown hair and then a second red ear, and then the rest of Dazai followed suit, attempting to saunter into the office and take to his place without being noticed, by the seems of it.

"Dazai."

Dazai froze, and then turned- no, first he flicked an ear in his direction, and then he turned to face him properly. Which was still going to take some getting used to. Ears - anatomy in general - wasn't supposed to work like that. It just wasn't. Not on human beings-

And there it is again, he thinks, catching himself for not the first or last time. Because Dazai, not that it should have even come as a surprise given how inhumanly irritating he could be, wasn't a human being. At least not entirely.

"Eh?" Another ear flick. "Did Kunikida-kun want something or did he just want to make sure I hadn't forgotten my name?"

Breathe, he reminded himself. Do not twist the damn fox's ears just because he's trying to deflect on purpose.

Because, he had to be. Dazai hadn't said a word about this to anyone in the past several days, and... even if no one else was bothered, even if no one else was wondering what was going on or felt concerned at all, Kunikida wasn't anyone else, and the entire situation was starting to grate on him.

"I don't suppose you could explain to me exactly where you've been for the past several nights?"

And there was the up side to the strange new body language. It was harder for Dazai to completely mask his reactions to things unless he used what he had somehow figured out the previous day about his newfound ability to use illusions - not that Dazai had ever needed illusions to make trouble in the first place - and hide his non-human features entirely. In which case it would go without saying that there was something he didn't want to to share.

"I could," Dazai said slowly. "But I don't see why I should have to. I'm not in any danger anyone needs to rescue me from, and I'm coming to work each day-"

"Not that you actually do anything that could be called 'work'," Kunikida couldn't stop himself from correcting.

"-so it isn't as if there's a problem, if-"

"You're late every single day, and we don't know where you are! I fail to see how there isn't a problem with this!" He cuts across Dazai's excuses and the next thing he knows, he's leaving a report half-written to stand up at his desk. "Do I really need to point out that there have been several times in the past few months when you would vanish, and you'd turn up some time later - hours, days, weeks - only for us to find out that actually, what we," and he was perfectly well aware that when it come to some cases, the earlier ones especially, "we" was mostly "him", "had assumed was just more of your slacking off was actually a serious incident that we should have been made aware of!"

The incident with Dazai getting captured and imprisoned by the Port Mafia back before the alliance - before, not that he had been aware at the time, Dazai had been in more danger than any other Agency member due to being seen by the mafia as a traitor. With that in mind, even with it being Dazai who was as slippery as the kitsune trickster he apparently was, it was nothing short of a miracle he had made it out alive.

The serial apple suicides. Getting shot right before the Agency and the mafia went into disarray.

No one had even known where he had been or what had happened to him to even know that he had been arrested until much later, an entire period of time spent not knowing what his status was, whether he was alive or dead, to say nothing of if he had a plan.

At some point, Dazai's ears had flattened back onto his head, staring at him.

"But I'm... I'm fine," Dazai was saying now. Weakly, as if he really didn't see what the issue was. Looking around, only to realise that the office had quieted down to the barest hush of voices, and only then in the direction of the clerks who had come back in spite of everything.

"Even if that's the case, it's still not something that I can stand to let lie, when I'm fine doesn't tell us where you've been."

Dazai has his mouth half open to say something else, whatever it is, but he doesn't get the chance.

"Kunikida has a point, you know." Ranpo, it seemed, was finding the conversation topic serious enough to put down the pastry he'd been eating, even if there were still crumbs on his mouth and fingers. "We're not asking you to come back, if that's what you're worried about."

"We aren't-? I for one would much prefer it if he did come back! At least then-"

"No, we're not. He's a fox, Kunikida. You can't make foxes go where they don't want to go. If Dazai's fine where he is, then he's fine where he is - but at the same time, like I said. You've got a point, because we don't know where he's been."

The last was aimed directly at Dazai himself, with all the authority of Ranpo's extra years and - apparently - extra experience in terms of other matters, that Kunikida had learned during the latter part of the previous day.

"And what if I don't want to tell anyone where I'm staying?"

"Then I'd say you're being a selfish brat," Kunikida ground out, taking only some small amount of satisfaction in the way that Dazai's eyes widened, and he backed away a step, seeming for all the world as though he was just giving them all the same bratty attitude as always - if it weren't for how his ears and tail were quivering like a cornered dog. Which Dazai himself didn't seem to even be aware of.

He sighed, hand pinching the bridge of his nose and then re-adjusting his glasses.

It takes only a few paces to get around his desk - leaving the half-finished report still staring back at him from his computer screen, and wasn't that just like Dazai to interrupt his work even when it wasn't on purpose - and find the filing cabinet with the forms that he knows have rarely had any use, and perhaps that should be fixed, and for more than just Dazai, but with the way everyone in the Agency is... they'd simply never gotten around to it, and for one good reason.

"Kunikida-kun, what are you...?"

"Most of the agents tend not to bother with these, but that's usually because it's seen as unnecessary. The Director doesn't enforce it for the same reason. Would you care to guess what that is?"

"Because it's boring?"

"Because everyone else lives in the same place. The Agency's dorms mean that it's harder for something to just plain happen when no one is watching or aware. And if something happens, we all know- and because we all know, there's no need to contact anyone else." He pulled out the form that he'd been searching for. "If you really aren't coming back, you could at least fill that in."

"...you want to put my new address on the system," Dazai said after a full minute of reading the thing. "I can't do that."

"Dazai-!"

It confirmed his rising suspicions that there was a new address involved, that Dazai hadn't simply not been returning back to the dorms for any other reason, but the outright refusal-

"He's gonna need the next one, Kunikida," he heard, Ranpo's voice pulling him back from the brink of outright throttling his infuriating partner. The next one. Of course he had thought of that, but who could possibly...? And yet, Ranpo seemed certain.

So, out came the "next" form. The one that usually went with the first one. The one that he hadn't even thought Dazai would be able to have filled out, if he had just found somewhere else to stay, somehow.

Something shifts.

Atsushi, who had been looking between the two of them with some level of anxiety, attempted - and succeeded - to get behind Dazai to look past him at what Kunikida had given him. When he saw, the kid's eyes widened, brows rose, and then he looked first at Dazai and then at Ranpo.

"Oh," the kid said, "I get it. I never needed one of those because... but... d'you really think that person will..?"

Which outright confirmed that Atsushi knew who Dazai was staying with, that he was staying with someone, and hadn't told anyone else. Ranpo he could understand, because he was Ranpo - he'd probably been able to take one good look at Dazai over the past several days and could have figured how exactly what was going on without any help at all.

Dazai, meanwhile, just shrugged and folded up both forms, putting them in an inner pocket of his coat and leaving Kunikida to wonder if they'd simply disappear over the course of the day, or turn up with immature doodles all over them.

...

Dazai wasn't sure when the words come love, sleep had somehow turned into the sound of Chuuya closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes, or hearing him call out I'm home just like he had ever since his third night staying over. Because the first night had just been the two of them collapsing into bed together and not being sure who would still be there come morning, and the second hadn't really been expected-

But somehow, somewhere along the way, Chuuya has been letting him make himself at home.

There's his own sleeping yukata waiting on the bed, since it's more comfortable now than pyjamas, and his toothbrush is in Chuuya's bathroom. Chuuya has started to buy canned crab (again; he remembers when they were partners and Chuuya would just shove it in his face when he hadn't been eating at all, because he hadn't seen the point, and looking back it was probably the fact that Chuuya had wrestled him into it and remembering that there was worth being there for and paying attention to, rather than the crab itself).

The previous night, they'd somehow wound up with Chuuya sitting normally - more or less - on his sofa, while Dazai's head rested in his lap, half of Chuuya's attention on the reports he'd brought home and had brought out despite Dazai's protests, and half on Dazai's head, including his ears, which he knew were soft and, when he was in his more human form, by far more accessible than the only other fluffy part of him.

Especially with the fact that being a hanyou apparently came with sharp bits - claws, and teeth, and sometimes he could control them, but he couldn't always, and sometimes... sometimes Chuuya's furniture suffered the consequences.

He kept expecting harsh admonishments, because he'd often caused less harm when he'd done things on purpose - maybe Chuuya didn't see it that way, but at least shifting all of his belongings an inch to the left just to see him come to work the next day covered in bruises had been harmless, as had been covering everything Chuuya had owned at the time with (unused) old bandages, just because of some insult he had wanted his partner to regret having made.

But Chuuya... Chuuya noticed, and made strange, odd noises in the back of his throat like he was trying to strangle something back there, and he'd breathe, and just... move on. He had to notice, when there were scratches in the upholstery and the carpets and the woodwork. Dazai had been on the receiving end of more than one headache-inducing tirade on how the chibi wanted him not to touch his things and not to damage any of his things, but now he had been-

Nothing.

The worst he'd had in response had been what he could only assume had been a joking suggestion that maybe we should get you a cat scratching post, which he couldn't imagine being much help if he did go through with it.

There was fur all over the place.

From his tail, but also from the few times so far that he had simply gone around on all fours, the novelty not quite having worn off. He still had a puffy soft coat that had plenty of fluff to spare, so every so often bits would just... snag. He wouldn't even notice most of the time. But it had reached the point in even just this long, less than a week, and no matter any of the other things-

Chuuya's home smelled of Dazai.

When he'd first arrived earlier in the week, it had been full of the scent of smoke and wine and freshly laundered clothes, as well as the barely hidden tang of old, dried blood and steel that came from his knives and that lingered in the doorway, and all the places that Chuuya would linger after a mission.

Now, the scent of kitsune followed into every room. The scent was still light, hadn't settled into the pores of the house, could still be exorcised with time and deodoriser, but there was something heady and frankly terrifying to the idea that this was happening, that he could tell that it was happening when previously he'd repressed everything so far that he'd barely noticed that his senses were any more sensitive than those of a human being who tended to notice a little more than most.

The entire house felt like potential, and two pieces of paper burned holes in his coat pocket. Despite the well-meaning intentions of his co-workers, they felt more like a threat than anything nearly as encouraging as they must have intended.

Except-

Ranpo had been the one to suggest the second form. Ranpo, who knew youkai better than Dazai, and who had a good nose like the cat he was, and who had meet Chuuya before.

And Dazai... trusted Ranpo.

He just wished that he trusted himself - trusted whatever this was that he and Chuuya were starting together - even half as much.

...

The first thing Chuuya thinks when he calls out and doesn't get a response is that Dazai must have been out late on a case, or that he'd stayed at the dorms again, or... any number of things he hadn't felt the need to tell Chuuya about, never mind the fact that apparently they live together now-

But then he sees the shoes in the genkan, and that means that Dazai had to be in here somewhere.

He thought, at least, given how quiet it was. Weirdly quiet, for a place that should have a Dazai in it. After all, Dazai didn't even have to have his shoes on to go out, and for all he knew, he might wind up halfway through the night and hearing scratching at his door-

He goes through the motions of putting his coat up, but he's still wearing his knife when he walks into the living room and the first thing he sees is that there's something on the coffee table, and he's already picked it up by the time he realises that Dazai's not just still here, but still in the room - not that he'd have noticed if he hadn't caught the smallest movements out of the corner of his eye.

Just a week ago, and a fox in my living room hiding under the sofa would be cause to grab the thing and throw it out as far as I could so it didn't come back, and now... what?

He blinked.

The words on the page he'd picked up without thinking didn't change, or rearrange themselves. And after yesterday, he half expected they would. That this would be some sort of new prank, and Dazai was on all fours just to make sure he could run off faster than Chuuya could catch him.

As far as he could see, it was just a normal form. The words were printed in black and white, on normal print paper. Hell, it was the sort of generic thing that he'd had to fill out just working for the mafia a few times, because no matter that they were a criminal organisation, gods forbid they didn't have their internal paperwork and filing systems in order.

So he knew what it was. He wasn't an idiot. It was just the context that was...

Unable to finish that thought, he reached out mechanically to the next sheet of paper that'd been hidden under the first, and nearly drops them both.

Notification of Change of Address was the first one.

Emergency Contact Details was the second.

Both of them had the Armed Detective Agency's header on them, just in case he wasn't sure where they'd come from.

"Dazai?"

He's not sure what, exactly, his voice is doing, but it feels like he must have gone through several different emotions in the space of saying that one word.

Dazai whining normally is just something to roll his eyes at, because whatever he's going on about and making eyes at him for, is probably just something he could have handled himself if he'd only been bothered to deal with whatever it was earlier, or that's not actually a big deal at all but he's just being an attention-seeking brat about things.

Dazai whining as a fox is just a pitiful sound that he really... doesn't know how to deal with.

"Whether either of us like it or not, I can't speak fox, Dazai. You're gonna have to work with me here." He glanced back at the forms. They still said the same things. "I don't get... this."

He stared, mind blanking out the longer he stood there, hoping that if he just waited long enough Dazai would give in and explain what was going on. It was more than a relief when red fur wriggled out from its hiding place and jumped up onto the sofa only to be Dazai-shaped - or rather, mostly human Dazai-shaped - before he hit the cushions.

"Kunikida-kun got mad at me," Dazai said, and maybe if someone didn't know him as well as Chuuya did they'd think he was relaxed, but Chuuya could see the tension in his body and in all the ways he did and didn't know he was showing it. The way he wouldn't meet Chuuya's eyes, instead concentrating on something on the ceiling. "I haven't been sleeping at the dorms since..." he trailed off, and didn't have to finish that, since Chuuya already knew what he was talking about. "It's only been a few days, but given it's Kunikida-kun I shouldn't really be that surprised."

Which explained just about as much as it didn't - not enough.

"What... exactly, did you tell them, then?" No, that wasn't- "Why did you wind up with these?"

Dazai blinked up at him, and for a moment he was afraid he'd just wind up with a sorry-looking fox again.

"Because," Dazai half-mumbled quietly enough Chuuya almost couldn't hear the words, "I sort of let slip that I wouldn't be going back to the dorms." A blink, as they both stared at each other, and a widening of Dazai's eyes. "I mean - that I didn't want to- I..." He deflated somewhat, and brought his knees up, tail curling around himself and making him look far younger and more innocent than Dazai had any right to be, after all he'd done. "I didn't tell them where, or that it was you, though."

"Dazai..."

The name came out more as a slow exhale, a sigh than anything, full of emotions he couldn't quite put names on. At least, not yet.

Brown eyes narrowed, and then the next thing he knew Dazai was on his front, face in a cushion.

"If Chuuya wanted to say something all he needed was to say it."

The words that's rich, coming from you gathered at the top of his tongue, but he bit them off with as much patience as he could muster up.

A dozen different things he could say all went the same way.

Usually, people don't move so fast.

Most people don't move in so quickly.

We don't even know what we're doing half the time.

Or what we are to each other other outside of-

Come, love. Sleep.

"I thought... I guess I just thought that when you'd figured out who you were again, you'd just... I dunno. Go back."

"I thought Chuuya didn't want me to go back, or go anywhere. I thought Chuuya just wanted me to come back to him."

There was something about the words that was dizzying. Dazai was a fickle, changeable bastard fox who just left, who left and didn't care and who was... saying that he wanted... that he thought...

Chuuya sat down. Still holding the two forms in his hand.

Dazai lifted his head up, squishing one ear against the cushion in an odd way that didn't seem comfortable, but that Dazai didn't seem to notice.

"What... is this what you want?"

Dazai doesn't just stay. Dazai doesn't do anything without some sort of backup plan, or motive.

He only came with me because I asked first, if the weretiger had asked first, that'd be where he'd be staying. Not here.

Just because I "called dibs."

"Chuuya's being particularly stupid right now." Maybe he was. But it wasn't like Dazai was being much better, and that made him feel more okay about the whole ordeal. "I want to stay here. Didn't I just say that?"

Oh.

In some dim corner of his mind, he realised that this would take a fair bit more than just this one form - not that Dazai would likely be all that bothered, because as long as his letters could be passed along through his coworkers, he'd just be lazy and not bother with it - but that... that could be later.

He wondered, considering it was Dazai, what whoever had given him the second form had been thinking, when they'd thought of that.

"How much do they know?" he asked with a slight frown.

There were some things that'd happened that night that... were the entire reason he'd half dragged, half carried Dazai into his home and let him get away with so much in the first place.

"Hm? Ah. Oh... that. I... haven't really told them," Dazai said, now picking at a loose thread on the sofa that wouldn't have been there if it weren't for Dazai's claws picking at it in the first place. It was almost funny. As a kid, he'd never even dreamed of having upholstery that wasn't at least a bit ratty. Even the best the Sheep had been able to get their hands on had holes in places, because the adults had taken the good stuff first. And then when he'd been half-dragged into the mafia, he'd gained an appreciation for how he'd been able to afford furniture that didn't even have a nick or scratch. Now here he was, and Dazai was tearing holes and scratches in everything- something he wasn't about to stop doing, either. The future seemed full of imperfect furniture, and the more he thought about that, the less awful it became. "Atsushi knows," Dazai was saying, pulling Chuuya out of his own thoughts. "Because he was there. And he knows enough to notice things. He's a good kid." Chuuya nodded along, because from what little he'd seen, he'd agree with that. "Ranpo probably does, too."

Chuuya scowled and shuddered at that name - that detective. Just because they were back on the same side again didn't mean that hearing the name and knowing that the detective knew - or even just suspected - that one sore spot of Dazai's right now wasn't rubbing salt into the wound.

"And you trust them?"

The more they talked, the more Dazai relaxed, his tail and ears twitching from time to time, and this time he even grabbed at the extra limb he'd gained in the past week, losing his hands in the fur.

"Neither of them have told anyone else," he said. "I might tell the others. Sooner or later. Maybe. Or I might just leave it and see who notices first."

"Whatever you want to do, really," Chuuya found himself saying. "They're your people."

People who Chuuya would end up interacting with a lot more than he'd ever planned on, the moment he's finished signing his life and what little remained of his peace and quiet away. But if Dazai didn't want to say anything just yet, then neither would he.

"Mm," Dazai hummed out. "They are." Dazai tilted his head. Chuuya wasn't even sure if Dazai really understood what he'd just said, how differently youkai saw their connections with people compared to normal human friendships. Then again, Dazai barely understood that sort of thing anyway. "So... you agree to both?"

"I didn't just let you into my home for shits and giggles, Dazai. Or to just kick you out the moment I felt like it." Dazai was still watching him. Waiting. "That's a yes."

He just hoped this wasn't going to come back to bite him in the ass in the middle of the day and a call from some poor Agency soul who'd drawn the short straw to contact him when Dazai starts acting like the brat he is just for the attention. It'd hardly be the first time he'd have done a thing like that.

"....Chuuya?"

So there was something else.

"What?"

"Talking of telling." Dazai was now wearing his serious face, although the effect was marred somewhat by the fluffy ears, and the fact that he was still holding onto his own tail on Chuuya's sofa. "About that. If there are going to be records, I want you to tell Mori what's going on before he has a chance to find out for himself."

"I thought you didn't want me to tell the Boss."

"And now I do. I just told you why. Are you going to do it or not?"

"You say that as if it'd ever be easier to not tell him something. Of course I will. Though if it weren't for the what I'd be making you tell him yourself - and you're still going to owe me for this."

Dazai had the gall to stick his tongue out, which just emphasised the effect of making him look ridiculous.

"What's mine is yours, Chuuya."

"We're basically housesharing, Dazai. We're not married or anything."

He stood up abruptly, taking the two forms with him and neatly avoiding the - thankfully socked - foot that Dazai tried sending at him, and doing his best to look straight ahead at the kitchen instead of looking back. And wishing he hadn't just said that, or that he could just put his hat back on and hide his face without getting called out for it.

You've told him you love him already days ago, he thought to himself, inner voice calling him an idiot as he heated up the water for tea, and started the food prep because gods knew Dazai wasn't going to. Most people who share their house with someone don't sleep in the same bed as that person, either.

At this point, he didn't think he could tell Dazai to sleep in another room. And not just because it'd feel like a betrayal.

Dazai, who he knew damn well was a chronic insomniac... had been sleeping. Dazai had been sleeping, and he'd been doing so in Chuuya's arms, for the past couple of nights.

Not to mention, he... could hardly say he hadn't been feeling better for being able to wake up to fluff and fur and bandages and noodle limbs and the ever-present cool sensation of Dazai's ability nullifying his own.

...

Fukuzawa Yukichi took one look at the two forms that Dazai had handed him, from which could be gathered the exact home address and contact details of someone he knew to be a mafia executive, and then looked back at Dazai himself.

Dazai, who was standing there, waiting patiently with a purposefully neutral expression on his face.

For a moment, for all their differences, he couldn't help but be reminded of Yosano, and wondered how many times Dazai had stood in just that sort of way in front of Mori Ougai, to ask something of the man that in all likelihood should have been given freely, and without such worry or concern.

An ear flicked, and then went back to its alert position.

Only kids do that sort of thing, Ranpo had said to him just the other night about the way Dazai wore his fur, distressed but quiet. Kids and hanyou! I should've known before. But because it was Dazai I just didn't- but I should've known.

It wasn't often that Ranpo came to him with frustrations about not knowing something, and even less frequently about those things that concerned the non-human side of things. And now that he did, it was about a coworker. One of Yukichi's own subordinates, even.

He sighed.

"By the way that this is coming to my attention, it seems that this is more to inform me of something that has already been decided, rather than to seek my approval." The changes - the minute shifting of Dazai's posture, the twitches of his features - might have remained invisible to most, but to Yukichi, who had experience with reading far more subtle signs than this, the nervous tension was as clear as day. "Dazai."

"Director, I-"

"There is no need to apologise for doing what you felt that you must after what was clearly a stressful situation," although simply describing it as stressful felt like he was understating things, here, given what he understood had happened. "Or putting your trust in someone. I merely wish to know that the two of you have thought this through. Although the Agency and the Port Mafia are currently at peace, we are both well aware of how easily such a truce could be affected by events outside of our control."

If anything, discomfort he could see and sense in Dazai rose, but that was hardly outside of expectations given the subject and situation.

"You can trust that I wouldn't allow my living conditions to affect my loyalties, or to become a danger," Dazai said. In just as much of a carefully neutral tone as he had made sure to put on his features.

"Dazai, it isn't your loyalty that I am concerned about," he said, eyes shutting for a moment as he thought about all of the potential repercussions of this. In the past two years since his entrance exam, Yukichi had never once, not even since he had first been made aware of the boy's previous occupation, questioned that loyalty - never had he been given any reason to.

"In which case," as if that had been something they had needed to have made clear at all, "I can only say that should anything come up... Chuuya and I will need to deal with such things as they do."

"Then it seems that you have thought of everything already, and the Agency can merely do the best we can with regards to keeping the information that the two of us have trusted us with as safe as possible."

From Dazai's expression, that wasn't what he had hesitantly knocked on his Director's door and expected to come away with. That, along with the sharp but uncertain way that Dazai bowed his thanks and left, made him relieved at the quiet and privacy that enabled him to rub at his forehead, at the premonition of a headache as well as hoping that Dazai's situation turned out to help him – and that whatever came their way that threatened such stability that he had managed to find for himself didn't break him.

Then again, that was the reason he had built the Armed Detective Agency up around Ranpo in the first place, was it not? Not simply just to ease the burden on one boy and ensure that he was safe, but for them to support each other.

...

Mori Ougai watched Chuuya leave with most of his expression covered up by his hands still steepled in front of his face. He closed his eyes the moment the door closed, allowing himself to let out the breath that he had been holding in, which wasn't - quite - a sigh.

"I've started compiling an offline database of people in the communities who'd be good to have on side. Not even necessarily outright working for the mafia, just good to have owe us a favour or two."

That was what he had started with. And if Ougai were to be honest, he hadn't expected anything of the sort in such a short period of time. Granted, the list of names on the handwritten sheet of notes was small, and with the way things Chuuya had explained to him, no matter what he said or how he spun things, it would be more Chuuya that any of these people would be answering to, than him.

A minor note, and one that he was more than willing to let slide for one reason - that Chuuya himself was still loyal to him. Just as importantly, loyal to the mafia as an organisation. As long as that were the case, then there was nothing for him to be concerned about either way.

And then the bombshells had fallen - two connected pieces of information that he had known he would have to tread carefully with the moment he heard them, because of how he knew he could so easily break the two involved with one wrong move.

"There's a name that isn't on the list, Boss," Chuuya had said. "Dazai's got kitsune in him." Strong enough to be affected by the rules of these communities, evidently. And interesting though it may have been to have pressed on the matter and find out just how much, how strongly, and when either of them had found out this fascinating new development... said rules had confined him into a mere nod and a gesture to continue when he could see that Chuuya wasn't finished. "He's also moved in with me."

On the one hand, it would have been appreciated if he had been given some fair advanced warning to such a development; Dazai being able to potentially see whatever work Chuuya brought home with him was not a thought he liked to dwell on, considering his former executive's current mode of employment.

But on the other hand - it was hardly as though he could have stopped them, and nor could he now, if he wanted to.

It was as he had told Kouyou in reference to the incident in which she had been captured by the Agency; just like her, if Chuuya wished at any time to leave, then there would be very little that either he or the entire mafia behind him would be able to do to stop him. And with Dazai at his back... Double Black had been feared for a reason. From the picture he was beginning to paint of the youkai culture and mindset, the very action of opposing them only could end in a bloodbath.

Perhaps Chuuya liked to tell himself that he was as human as the friends he enjoyed socialising with, or even the body that he owed half of his very existence to. But the more Chuuya told Ougai of what to expect, the more his mind drifted back to innumerable instances that now made more sense, just as he was sure that the same could be said for Dazai's own behaviours. Even the very loyalty that made him so invaluable was merely a symptom of the whole, and now left him wondering just how much of Arahabaki was subsumed into being Chuuya's ability, and how much had survived in other means.

Questions, perhaps, for another time. Or at least to ponder privately.

In some situations, the most optimal solution was a swift strike, to act first before the opponent could so much as formulate a plan; in others, the only thing to do was to accept the way that the board had presented itself, and trust that things would sort themselves out in the most beneficial manner for all involved. In this case, the latter.

A downpayment in trust indeed, he thought to himself.

...

AN: If there are things that don't make sense in the Dazai-Chuuya section, there's a reason for that. You don't have the (full) context yet.

(That’ll be shown in “Fox-Faced,” so please read that too. Although I’d love to know what you think it is with only this and the previous fics to go by~)

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd stuff #kitsune dazai #Leona fic #bsd mnnk au

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cinaminho · 5 years

Text

Stray Mafia: You Push them away ,, 4/7

╰ Group: StrayKids

╰ Genre: Slight angst,, slight fluff

╰ warnings: All regular members are not in here,, Not in Order ,, not proof read

Request - Could you do a stray kids mafia scenario where their S/O has a break down and begins to push them away, kind of closing up? I LOVE YOU!!

Plot - just a week away from your wedding, Spoiler; next scenario you begin distancing yourself away from him, naturally a bunch of scenarios come to mind as to why you're suddenly acting this way again, are you sick , maybe? Just in a bad mood? It could be a number of things, but trust, your mafia companion will get to the bottom of it. How does he do so and how does he react to this behavior?

They became too long and I ran out of space,I don't feel like switching to my tablet, so I kept my favorite written ones, cool with you? Mmk.

Chan:

He'd be one to try and talk to you making frequent attempts. Now that'd you admitted your love for each other and your big day was no longer far enough to call off , there was no way he was going to let you close up now. Whatever it was you'd fight through it together , that's what he told himself and you. Now obviously, he knew something was wrong but was it so deeply bothering you that you tore through half the house out of anger? When he stepped inside your shared home to see the ransacked place he didn't hesitate to pull a gun from his jacket pocket, slowing trailing through every inch of the house eventually making his way up stairs where he finds you, hobbled on the window seat of the bedroom, the veins on the side of your head visible, shortened rigid breathing was heard, your hands with war scars on them. He'd drop his gun to race over and sit in front of you, cupping your face bombarding you with questions, but all he got was small hiccups, cries, and tears.

"Y/n, what happened, who came In here, did they attack you?!"

His questions would come a mile a minute. You'd simply shake your head. He'd sigh out of relief that he didn't have to kill someone tonight. After studying your face he'd realize that it wasn't mafia related at all. This was something more personal.

"This has nothing to to do with me or the mafia, you're dealing with something else, Yeah?" With nothing as a response again he'd have his answer, carressing your cheek he'd give you an apologetic look.

"We'll get through this, I don't know exactly what's wrong but neither of us are leaving this spot until I do."

Changbin:

Was at a stand still on what to do. He was one to handle his personal business with you on his own, no one outside of you two needed to know what went on between you two but this was one time he went to his leader or another member of the gang that he trusted, most had a S/O themselves so of course they should know, right? He'd be pacing back in forth in Chan's office voicing his concerns about you while Chan, like the amazing leader he was would just listen, he liked that they just weren't a vicious gang of strangers, but a family that could voice their worries to each other. Once he was able to come up with a solution he'd come home ready to get things back on track. He walked through the door to see you dragging your feet down the hallway back towards the living room , he'd be cautious in his approach.

"Your legs are working again are they? This us the first time I've seen you downstairs in 2 days, the chef had to bring you your food." He tried with some light humor though he wasn't one for jokes.

You just looked back at him blankly before heading towards the couch. Changbin bit his bottom lip letting out an inward heavy sigh, he was having enough of this no communication, he was trying to be a good fiancee, his temper could only stay at bay for so long.

"Y/n , I don't care where or when you tell me what's wrong it can be before or after the wedding, but When our wedding day actually comes so help me GOD, if this is the attitude you will display your part of our honeymoon will be spent between four brick cement walls!"

Normally his threats might've scared the dog crap out of you but you felt light like you had nothing to lose. You ignored him as you sat down flipping through a magazine, Changbin's eye twitched at the lack of attention you were giving him and his concern for you. He took short strides towards you snatching the book from you and flinging it somewhere, you winced as you got a papercut in the mist. You looked at your index finger then to him.

"You gave me a paper cut you idiot!" You semi yelled.

"That's what gets you to talk to me? Well maybe you should have a few more."

"I'M JUST NOT FEELING WELL , DUMB ASS, WE ALL GET IN THESE MOODS, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW!" Your tone was steady and vicious as your temper boiled over.

Changbin cocked an eyebrow up at you. "That's the most weak excuse I've ever heard for such behavior."

You looked down at your ring twisting it on your finger realizing that maybe you had just been being a bit rude, Changbin had finally given into you and you treated him like this. He tilted his head to the side using his index finger to rub the throbbing vein in the middle of his forehead.

"Tell you what , lovely , you stay here and you figure out how to approach this situation better, I have other things to do rather than deal with a bratty fiancee at the moment."

Hyunjin:

It hurt him, oh yes it did. Understanding that you two had a few rough patches he thought you needed distance, that meant a day to a week which he gave you but not an entire month almost, the unthinkable was peaking into his thoughts, pestering with his state of mind. You had become an huge white cloud over his usually Grey one in this underground world that seemed to have no end, letting you slip away wasn't an option for him , he couldn't put it off any longer, all short conversations, lack of affectionate words and actions towards one another, the person he'd come to just to laugh and feel normal again for a few hours, that was all slipping past his finger tips as of now. He'd fight for it before anything else became an option , Hyunjin approached you more timidly after putting up a front pretending that it wasn't bothering him as much as it did, he was afraid of what actually was wrong praying it wouldn't be something you two couldn't fix.

After you came back from cake testing being that was all you were up for simply because sweets were involved, you closed the door ready to hang up your coat on the rack attached to the wall just to slightly be surprised by Hyunjin leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes boring into yours.

"Did you enjoy the testing?" He asked, voice more bland and emotionless.

You pondered on why he was there before answering his question.

"Uh huh, it was good I think I found the flavor for our I cake." You mumbled turning away and heading for the grand staircase. You felt Hyunjin was following as you picked up your pace towards the stairs. He knew you were trying to get away from him which hurt more. He tried to mask his pain with a casual response.

"Oh yeah, now you can put in the order."

You just hummed as you got to the top of the stairs.

"Are you second guessing the wedding...... Marrying me?" The last two words of Hyunjin's sentence came out relatively softer, he didn't say them too loud hoping you couldn't hear him and give him an answer just in case it burned.

You rolled your eyes tears started brimming at the gates ready to be released so you blinked rapidly shooing them away inhaling and exhaling before you turned to sit at the top of the steps.

Your mouth opened and Hyunjin's eyes were hopeful. "No No not at all, I'm just thinking..." You trailed off.

Hyunjin couldn't take much more suspense. "Is this about the life style you were dragged into because I was dragged into this really as well, it hasn't and won't interfere with us, I promise." His tone was desperate and determined.

You looked anywhere but at him as your eyes on eyes once again stung the flood gates opened freely you quickly shot your hands up to your face hiding it from view as you stiffled in the loud cries you so desperately wanted to let go of as your body Shook. He didn't hesitate to rush up the steps to you.

"What if we don't feel the way we do now about each other when the knot is officially tied? That's when the real trials begin." Your shakey voice faded in and out as you spoke.

"That's what you're worry about? Y/n I absolutely doubt that'd be a problem you love me just as much as I love you , right?"

You wiped the corner of your eyes and nodded. Hyunjin put a comforting hand on your knee as he sat a step below you.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd voice your concerns to me I was going insane not knowing what was going on in your mind , sunshine ." He chuckled.

"I apologize." You mumbled. Hyunjin simply layed his head on your knew, you took that as a sign to rub your fingers through his hair he sighed in enjoyment.

"Don't mention it. We'll make this work, I know it and so should you."

Minho:

NOT that rational. He thought you were cheating... With an "enemy" at that. You'd been distant, phone calls you'd had would be out of ear shot you'd also tell him it was no one important when he asked. Definitely meant you were cheating, right? Of course when was this boy ever wrong, he's in the mafia so of course he'd have his way to find out and so when you were indeed meeting with someone else and lying he was boiling. He decided to shut you out as well it was a game made for two. So while you two sat down at the dinner table meant for at least twelve people on opposite ends, only utensils heard hitting against plates or tables, a few sighs in between and stolen glances when the other's head was down the tension was so uncomfortable but you didn't feel like speaking, it's not like you trusted your voice anyway.

Minho harshly cut through his steak getting angrier picturing himself using it to dig into someone's flesh instead instead of his dinner infront of him, you looked up looking at the rapid pace he was cutting through the food.

"Minho the food isn't your enemy." You mumbled.

"You're right apparently my fiancee is." He spat back.

Your head shot up and you shot him a glare. "Um. How am I your enemy?" That question was the light to the fuse. He snapped.

He sprung up from his seat causing the chair to topple backwards, his next move proved his rage with one swipe of his arm the table and flew into the scream colored walls splattering. You just sat with your jaw slacking open, what had gotten into him?

"You really must take me for a fool, Y/n." Minho let out a bitter chuckle as he clenched his jaw. Your brows knitted into one staring at him as you stood up.

"What're you talking about?!"

"The secret phone calls, leaving the house making sure to lose my guards when they followed you, lying about who you were with!" He started naming off things that you'd done.

"Oh my-- well who in the heck knew a member of the mafia could be such an insecure jackass!"

Minho stomped towards you meeting you face to face with a warning finger out reached. "You better watch how you talk to me, you're on thin ice, very thin ice!"

"Well then LET ME BREAK IT. You wanna know who I've been with?" You challenged.

Minho let out a sarcastic laugh "as if I don't already know, like you said, I'm a member of the mafia, so you're with an Ikonic now?"

Your eyes dialated in either that's what he thought you were up to? You were having trouble wrapping your head around it all.

"What? No! You clueless jerk, Song and I have been friends and one of his own members were in critical condition he wanted me to comfort him! He knew your gang and his weren't on the best terms so he ask me not to tell you to avoid either of us getting in trouble!" Furious hot tears ran down your cheeks you hated feeling so small against him.

"I don't think that was a good idea!" He yelled back with just as much force.

"Look Minho, I'm sorry, I am I should've told you but would you have let me-"

"Absolutely not." He quickly answered already knowing the question.

"Exactly why I didn't tell you, I'm not cheating you imbecile." You groaned while wiped your tears away.

"But you lied. What do expect me to think when yoe hide things from me and pushing me away everytime I ask a question?" He shrugged not caring to admit he was wrong as well.

"I'm sorry but it was for a good cause."

"Disagree." He simply replied. He looked back at the mess he made , he whined. "Look what I did because I was afraid I was losing you, Y/n."

You stifled a giggle but he caught it. He smiled softly palming the back of your head and bringing his lips to your forhead before kissing the remaining tear droplets away.

Others will be added in the second half :)

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llamacall · 5 years

Text

Worried sister

Stray Kids 10th member AU

Pairing: Daisy/Woojin?

Summary: Daisy get a call about her sister being in the hospital and freaks out.

a/n: it didn’t turn out as well as I wanted but I just wanted to show you a little how much Daisy cared about her sister. I hope you like it anyways. You can always request! Sorry if there is any grammar mistake, English isn't my first language.

Today was their last day of I am WHO promotions, and even they loved their job and seeing their fans, they were also glad that they could finally get some rest. The day had been very sunny and a lot of people had went out, but now the sun had gone down and it wasn't bright anymore, so most of the people were already at home.

All the team was at the dorm. Chan was having a shower and Hyunjin and Jeongin were napping while the rest of the boys were in the living room, chatting. The boys said early that day that they were tired of eating fried chicken all day -except Woojin, of course-, so Daisy decided to cook something her mom always cooked in special occasions, and she supposed that finishing their promotions was special enough. Woojin give her a hand, just in case. Daisy was actually good in the kitchen, but they never know. Cooking for ten people wasn't an easy task.

Daisy was cutting the vegetables while Woojin was taking care of the meat when his phone started to ring. He looked at the screen, wondering who would call him. When he saw that their manager's number was the one on the screen, he quickly called Daisy.

"Day, can you take care of this for a minute? It's our manager, I need to pick up." He said. Daisy left the knife on the counter and stopped right next to Woojin to take care of the meat.

"What would he need?" She said, looking at Woojin, but he didn't know either. Woojin picked up quickly but didn't leave Daisy's side. As she was very close to him, she could hear the conversation.

"Woojin-ah, are you with Daisy right now? She doesn't pick up." The manager said, and Woojin was surprised at hearing how he sounded a little annoyed and anxious.

"Yes, she is with me."

"Can you make me the favour of putting her at the phone?" He asked, but it sounded more like an order.

Woojin, knowing that Daisy was hearing the conversation, gave her the phone without saying anything. She tensed when she hold the phone with both hand and heard the manager's voice more clearly.

"Why weren't you picking your phone? I had been calling you for at least ten minutes."

"I'm so sorry. My phone is charging in my room and–" Daisy began, but he didn't let her finish the sentence.

"That's doesn't matter. I got a call from the hospital ten minutes ago, your sister is there. Since you didn't pick up, they called me. And..." The manager keep talking to her but she didn't hear anything. Why was her sister in the hospital? Today was supposed to be a good and relaxing day, but it was all gone now.

"W-why is she there? W-what happened to her?" She asked. Daisy started to walk out of the kitchen and looking for her coat and her shoes. She was ready to run out of the house at any moment if necessary.

"I don't know. They just told me that she'll be taken to surgery, but she'll be fine. They said it wasn't nothing really serious." The manager told her, and he had all her attention. "But they said that your sister wanted you to be there. I'll pick you up if you want."

"Yes.. P-please come." She hung up. Woojin and Minho were next to her while the other boys were looking at her with a confused look on their faces.

"Where are you going at this hour? Did something happened?" Minho asked. Daisy sat on the floor and left Woojin's phone on the floor to put her shoes on.

"My sister is in the hospital."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know, they did say anything. But the manager will ride me there."

Minho looked at Woojin. They all knew how important her family was to her. They were all really close. Even now that she lived in Korea, she still called them everyday even if it was just to say hi to her parents. But her sister was very special.

When Daisy first moved to Korea, she had felt very lonely. Even though she made friends very quickly, she was a teenager who never lived on her own, without having her parent around. And doing that for the first time in another country didn't make it easier. So when her sister decided to move to Korea too, she had been extremely happy. That made them even more close.

"I'm going with you." Woojin said, putting his shoes on too. Daisy was about to say that it wasn't necessary, but didn't said anything and just agreed. She actually appreciated that he sacrificed her own time for her. "Minho, please take care of the kitchen. I will text you if anything happens. Also, tell Chan where we'll be."

On the way to the hospital, Woojin was the one Daisy was able to hold to. The thought of her sister being in the hospital, in surgery, and not knowing how was really her state made her crazy. The manager said it wasn't nothing serious, but she won't believe anything until she sees her.

When the van stopped moving Daisy opened the door and started running into the hospital, not waiting to Woojin or her manager, but knowing they'll be following her. She stopped in front of the reception desk and asked the woman behind it where could she find her sister and what had happened, but she only said that she'll in surgery for a while, and that Daisy had to wait. Why couldn't she give her the information she wanted?

Daisy was getting anxious and in that moment Woojin came from behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, telling her to sit down a little. And that's what she did. Both of them went sat on one of the benches while the manager talked to the not so kind receptionist. Woojin put an arm around Daisy's body to give her a hug like a little bear and Daisy smiled a little thanks to that.

After ten minutes that Daisy felt like an eternity, the receptionist told them that Daisy's sister was already in a room and that they could go to see her. The manager told them to go on their own, that he would wait for them right there.

After finding her sister's room, Daisy opened the door and entered the room, followed by Woojin. The first thing she saw was her sister on a hospital bed, totally asleep. But then she saw that the room wasn't empty. There was also a girl sitting in a chair near the bed who seemed like a 15 years old.

"Oh, hello..." Daisy said. "Who..."

The girl stood up as soon as she saw Daisy, and by the way she looked at her, she knew that girl knew her. "Hello.” She bowed. “I'm Amelie’s friend. I was with her when it happened, so I came with her in the ambulance.” She told Daisy, as if Daisy knew what had happened.

“Thank you so much for that but, what happened? I just got a call and nobody could told me what happened to her.” She asked as she walked to the bed to see her sister sleeping. Woojin stayed silent, standing next to the door.

“Humm...” The girl who was now standing in front of Daisy looked as if she didn’t really know what had happened, although she had been there. “We were hanging out in the park and when we sat in a bench she started crying and screaming. Apparently the bench was a broke and a pice of metal was out of place. The ambulance came really quickly but Amelie passed out as soon as she saw the blood.”

Amelie always was like that when she saw blood, it’s doesn’t matters how little a cut was, she would pass out or feel nauseous. Daisy’s gaze went from the girl to her sister’s bandaged hand. It looked pretty bad, but at least her sister was fine, that was all that matters. “Thank you, I was really worried.”

MASTERLIST

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scifibi · 7 years

Note

congrats on 1.5k Mel!!!! 🎉💜 i love your writing and I have a prompt for you: bellarke soulmates au where the first words they say to you are tattoed on your body. person A: I can't believe dumbledore dies! person B: really? at a midnight release, asshole? I don't mind who's who. thanks 😌

ahhh thank you Scarlet @cabeswaterblakes too just to make sure you get your fic!

YOUR BELLARKE FIC:

no pause, no rewind

[also on ao3]

As far as the whole soulmates thing goes, Bellamy’s never been much of a believer.

It’s just kind of hard to see the point, really. His mother didn’t seem to care much when she had him with a guy who wasn’t her soulmate and, as far as Bellamy can tell, took off as soon as he could get his shoes on. She certainly didn’t seem to care much either when she decided to have a second kid with some other random, who knocked her up and got cold feet a mere month before Octavia was born.

Unfortunate life circumstances aside, he supposes the bulk of his disbelief stems from impracticality. There’s just too much logistical baggage to worry about. Like, what if this person’s supposed to be the one person meant for you, but they’re already married to someone else? What if you meet your soulmate on some completely off chance in a foreign city, and then find out that the two of you live thousands of miles apart? What if something happens — an accident or an unexpected tragedy or something — that changes who they are beyond repair or recourse?

Or — and this is, without a doubt, miles worse — what if you’re like his sister, Octavia, and all you have written on your palm is a simple ‘hi’?

That’s it. ‘Hi’.

Octavia could literally have a thousand soulmates. That’s fucking terrifying.

(She insists that she’ll know when it’s the right person. The right ‘hi’, out of the millions she’s bound to hear throughout her life. She’s just gonna know, some way, somehow. And he’s the crazy one for being skeptical.)

She’s always told him he’s an idiot, simply for having rational concerns. Yeah, well, it’s not like she’s ever had to deal with the words ‘Really? At a midnight release, asshole?’ emblazoned across the inside of her forearm in loopy cursive.

“A midnight release, Bell,” she’d say to him whenever he grumbled, grabbing his wrist to point emphatically at the words. “You know where you’re going to meet your soulmate. You know when, too! Don’t you realise how lucky you are?”

Lucky. Yeah, right. Tell that to all the mothers tutting disapprovingly at twelve-year-old him, ushering their kids away like he’s got a myriad of other swear words tattooed all over the rest of his body.

(Why the fuck did he have to get such a fucking foul-mouthed soulmate?!)

And yet, for all his disbelief, it doesn’t quite stop his stomach from turning discomforting little flips whenever he goes to a midnight release for anything, whether it’s a book or a movie or a stupid video game.

Even so, here he is, twenty-three years old, with dozens of midnight releases under his belt, and — nope. Still no soulmate.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. The longer his soulmate takes to show up, the longer he has to gather rational, concrete evidence against this whole melodramatic affair of a genetic arrangement. By the time he does meet his soulmate, he’s pretty sure he’ll be fully capable of presenting a solid argument on why both of them deserve to be let off this very stupid hook.

In the meantime, he can focus on all the other things in his life.

Stuff that’s actually important.

Stuff like the upcoming release of the latest Harry Potter movie.

“This is stupid,” Miller announces as he pulls his jacket tighter around himself. “We could have just come to see this shit tomorrow morning. Or better yet, tomorrow afternoon. You know. Like normal people.”

“It’s Harry Potter, Miller,” Bellamy says, shivering through his own coat. “We have to watch it the second it comes out. Do you have any idea how fast spoilers get around with a franchise of this magnitude?”

“I know what kind of geeks a ‘franchise of this magnitude’ tends to attract,” Miller says darkly, as a trio of teenagers dressed in scarlet Quidditch robes bustles past the queue they’re currently in the middle of, broomsticks in hand. “Seriously, is the dressing up strictly necessary?”

Bellamy grins. “It’s all part of the experience.”

Miller scoffs, but even he can’t help smiling at a gaggle of small children being shepherded past by two very harried looking adults, all of them clad in the signature black of Hogwarts robes, complete with tiny pointed hats. “Yeah, whatever. Baby geeks are cute and all… but they’re still geeks.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bellamy says bracingly, sneaking his hand out of his pocket to give him a quick clap on the back.

Miller rolls his eyes, tugging on his beanie reflexively. “The fuck do you care about spoilers, anyway? You’ve already read all the books, like, ten times.”

“Twelve,” Bellamy corrects, countering Miller’s grumpy glare with a bright grin. “Yeah, but knowing what’s going to happen isn’t the same as seeing it happen. There’s a billion ways they can play it out onscreen.” They shuffle forward with the rest of the queue. “Like, it’s fucking surreal, isn’t it? Seeing stuff happen in real-time like that, instead of just in your head.”

“Why shouldn’t that mean it isn’t real?” Miller quotes drolly. “Or whatever the hell it is he says.”

Bellamy whips round to stare at him. “Fuck, I totally forgot! I can’t believe Dumbledore dies!”

A sharp scoff sounds, slicing harshly through the air.

“Really?” a voice demands from somewhere behind him. “At a midnight release, asshole?”

He whirls around instantly, brows snapping together in outrage.

“Are you serious?” he shoots back hotly, hackles raised. “Read a book, you—”

What happens next in his head, he thinks, must be very similar to what happens to a laptop when it freezes up and he has to hold down the power button to force a reboot.

‘Really? At a midnight release, asshole?’

He gapes wordlessly, her voice echoing off the corners of his eerily silent brain, the words starkly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

For what it’s worth, the blonde girl standing before him seems every bit as thrown, her blue eyes wide and fixated on his, mouth hanging open as they continue to stare at each other.

“Uh,” Miller says cautiously, glancing between him and the blonde. “If this is what I think it is—”

Suddenly, the girl snaps into motion. She shrugs her left arm out of her coat, holding it out as she yanks the sleeve of her sweater up to her elbows.

Her expression is completely unreadable, but there they are. ‘Are you serious? Read a book, you’, printed in his blocky handwriting across her forearm, the exact spot where her words are scribbled across his own arm.

Fuck. Is that really how it ended up transcribed? ‘Read a book, you’?

What, has the universe never heard of the em dash before? He sounds like a fucking idiot.

“Okay,” Miller says, brows lifted high. “Well, that definitely looks like what I think it is.” He glances at Bellamy with a frown, prodding experimentally at his shoulder. “Hello?”

“Is he conscious?” the blonde asks Miller, briskly tugging her sleeve back down before slipping her arm back into her coat sleeve.

“I think so,” Miller reports, waving a hand in front of Bellamy’s nose. “He’s probably just— oh, nope. Here he is.”

Bellamy blinks slowly, his gaze drifting over the blonde’s frame before returning to her face. “Uh. Hey.”

“Hey,” she echoes, one brow arching, a little expectant, a little annoyed and — if he’s not mistaken — the littlest bit amused. “So. I guess we’re—”

“I guess so,” he finishes quickly. He’s not sure why, but he just really doesn’t want to hear the word right now. Not even from her. Especially not from her.

She shrugs, the movement light and confident. All the same, he gets the vague impression that she feels just as unsure as he does right now. “Huh. This is… a hell of a first meeting.”

He starts in surprise. “Yeah, I—” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t— are you telling me you haven’t read the Harry Potter books?”

To his shock, she looks completely nonplussed. “No.”

His jaw drops. “No?!” Who the fuck hasn’t read Harry Potter?! It's… it’s Harry Potter!

She folds her arms defensively over her middle, but he catches the slightest quirk at the very corners of her mouth, like she’s faintly amused by his reaction. “To be completely honest, I’d never even seen a Harry Potter movie up until, like, two days ago.”

He actually splutters then. “Two days ago?!” He stares at her, eyes goggled. “But how—”

She shrugs easily, and, okay, that’s a definite smirk on her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve been busy, I guess.” The smirk widens just a smidge. “You know. Doing things that don’t revolve around fictional magic schools.”

His cheeks flare with heat. “Wow. Wow.” He crosses his own arms, planting his feet wider. “Okay, well, what are you doing here, then?”

She falters then — by the barest, slightest bit, but he spots it instantly.

“Waiting for friends,” she says, brushing back a stray lock of hair. It’s not exactly in her way, so he’s willing to bet that the movement is purely to distract from the hitch in her rhythm. “I’m just holding a spot in line, until—”

“We’re here! We’re here!”

Bellamy bites back a smile at the poorly disguised relief on her face.

“About time,” she snipes — a little lamely, Bellamy notes — as two boys bound up to her, arms laden down with various snacks and tidbits.

“Sorry,” the shorter one says breathlessly, looking genuinely apologetic. “Jasper wanted to stop to pick up snacks, and then things got a little out of hand in the chip aisle, and—”

“We got into a cool ranch dispute,” the lankier one pipes up, balancing three bags of peanuts in the crook of one elbow as he tries to stuff a comically large bag of popcorn into his jacket. “Monty wanted sour cream and onion, so—”

“We compromised,” Monty finishes, holding up another two large bags of chips. He casts an appraising look at the blonde’s snugly wrapped frame. “How much space do you think you have in that jacket?”

“Shit, I got space for days,” Miller cuts in before the blonde can answer, his eyes trained hungrily on the bags of chips. “Think you guys can share?”

“No way!” Jasper says indignantly, two of his peanut packets dangling precariously over the ridge of his arm. “We’re never gonna—”

“Deal,” Monty interrupts decisively, snatching the peanut bags out of Jasper’s grasp to shove them into Miller’s arms. “Here, get that zip open, we can hide it in—"

He breaks off abruptly, looking between Miller and Bellamy as if seeing them for the first time.

"Oh,” he says, brows lifted high. “Hello.” He turns to the blonde, nose wrinkled in confusion. “Friends of yours?”

“No,” she and Bellamy both say at the same time.

Their gazes meet on pure impulse, both of them looking away within a split second.

“I��m Bellamy,” he says, just to break the brief bout of awkward silence. He clears his throat, nudging Miller with an elbow. “This is Nathan, but you can call him Miller.”

“Monty,” Monty says readily, catching Bellamy by surprise when the shorter boy reaches out to grab his hand, pumping it up and down in a quick handshake. “This is Jasper. You can call him Jasper."

"Or ‘king of the mountain’,” Jasper says cheerily, a boyish smirk stretched across his face. “Whatever’s more convenient."

Everyone turns to look expectantly at the blonde.

She shrugs. "Clarke.” She juts her chin towards the entrance of the theatre. “Also, if you guys are going to hide your stash, you’d better do it quick. Line’s moving.”

“Oh, shit,” Monty mutters, grabbing at Miller’s arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Here, turn this way in case the ushers see—”

Bellamy tries to find something to do with his hands as Miller gets tugged over to Monty and Jasper’s side of the queue. In the process of Miller practically getting manhandled by their two new acquaintances, Clarke is forced to step forward so that she ends up switching places with him, taking up his place next to Bellamy as Monty and Jasper start stuffing Miller’s jacket with bags of peanuts.

He swallows, bouncing tensely on the balls of his feet.

“So,” he says abruptly, glancing sideways at her. “What happened two days ago?”

She blinks up at him in surprise. “What?”

“You said you’d never seen a Harry Potter movie up until two days ago,” he prompts, one brow raised. “What happened to, uh, break your streak?”

She opens her mouth, and closes it. Her features quickly arrange themselves into a nonchalant expression. “Oh. Well. Nothing. Just—”

“We were playing drinking games in our dorm,” Jasper interrupts midway through attempting to squeeze a small packet of gummies under Miller’s beanie. “And then we found out she’s never seen any of the Harry Potter’s, so—”

“We decided to fix that,” Monty finishes, face scrunched in concentration as he stuffs a large Toblerone bar into Miller’s back pocket. “We watched all five movies in a row.”

“Jesus,” Bellamy says, turning to look at her. “In a row? I’m guessing that means you didn’t hate it.”

Clarke gives another little shrug, more of a jerk than anything. “It was all right.”

“'All right’?” Monty echoes skeptically. “You said they were milestones of cinematic achievement. You said they were the most important films of our generation. You said—”

“Thank you, Monty,” she cuts in tightly, eyes narrowed in warning. “Your M&M’s are sagging through his belt loops.”

“I think I’m at maximum capacity,” Miller says, his voice a little strained.

“Well, well, well,” Bellamy says smugly, planting his hands on his hips as he looks down at her. “I’d definitely call that a glowing review. Not bad for a bunch of movies about a fictional magic school, wouldn’t you say?”

She rolls her eyes, but the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips is significantly bigger than the ones that came before it. “Silencio, asshole.”

As far as the whole soulmates thing goes, Bellamy figures, hey, maybe it’s not all bad.

Especially not when Clarke pops the question to him two years later, as they’re in line for the midnight release of Deathly Hallows — Part 2.

(Yeah, call them cheesy. At least they’re consistent.)

#hope you like it babe!!!!#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #serendipia-s #cabeswaterblakes #mel celebrates 1.5k #my writing

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davidstirlings · 7 years

Note

i know this is gonna sound like a lot, and i totally wouldn't blame you for only doing some of these, but can you do that ship thing for nate and ray (i don't know what their ship name is)

Hi anon. Thanks for the ask :) First off, I’m going to assume that you mean all of the numbers for the ship ask meme. And my answer is of course I can. I love doing asks (though from the time it took me to actually finish this, you probably wouldn’t be able to guess. Sorry about that).

Secondly, the ship name for Nate x Ray is SteelAtom, I believe (at least, that’s what I’ve been tagging all my posts as. If I’m wrong, please correct me).

And we shall now descend into the (very large and long amount of) madness that is about to ensue:

Who made the first move? I feel like neither of these cute (and completely oblivious) cinnamon rolls would have made the first move. They probably only realised the other had feelings for them when the others pointed it out. (I can definitely see Sara and Mick just saying something like “So are you two sleeping together yet, or what?”)

Who said ‘I love you’ first? Nate. After what happened with Anna, and then Kendra, Ray’s a bit nervous about telling someone that he loves them. He does, obviously, but he’s scared that as soon as he admits that, they’ll leave him, or something bad will happen. But he does say “I love you too” as soon as Nate says it.

Who first suggested moving in together? They already live on a time-ship together, so that’s a bit of a pointless question, but Nate’s stuff slowly migrates its way into Ray’s (much bigger) room, and one day Nate just doesn’t bother going back to his room because it’s empty.

What was their first fight about? Ray throwing himself into ridiculously dangerous situations, almost as if he doesn’t care, as if there isn’t someone he’d be leaving behind. Nate worries a lot because his boyfriend isn’t bulletproof, and he always runs headlong into danger, and he’s scared that one day, Ray won’t come back with him, so they end up fighting every time the other does something unnecessarily dangerous (which, let’s admit, with this bunch of losers, is pretty much every week, or every time they get off the ship).

Who is the better cook? Neither of them is particularly brilliant at cooking, but for all his intellect, Ray Palmer is the ‘burn water’ type of guy, which means that either Nate cooks, or they order takeaway (there are a ridiculous number of pizza boxes which they keep forgetting to throw away. Jax says they could probably build a wall with them).

Who proposed? Ray. Despite being nervous about saying ‘I love you’ or making the first move, he’s a romantic at heart, and he eventually works up the courage to take Nate out to dinner when they land in Tuscany for a break, and he proposes to him after the meal.

Who remembers the anniversaries? You’d think, being a historian and all, that this would be Nate. You’d be wrong. As brilliant as he is at research, and remembering facts about ancient history, this guy has a really terrible memory when it comes to more recent dates to remember. This dude forgot their first anniversary, and their wedding anniversary. Ray sets about a billion remindersto make sure that he doesn’t forget, and it works about 60% of the time. (They’re both terrible, even though they’re supposed to be super-smart).

Where would they go for their honeymoon? Assuming the Legion of Doom don’t manage to destroy reality (and probably the entire world at the same time), then they’d probably go to all the cliche, romantic places people go on their honeymoon, like Paris and Rome and Hawaii. And they also go to different time periods too, because why wouldn’t you when you have a time-traveling space-ship? So they get to see the Eiffel Tower being built and walk along the streets of Paris in the 1920s.

Who wakes up first in the mornings? They usually wake up at the same time, though since Ray has been on the ship longer, and is more used to Rip’s rigid 8am wake-up schedule, he’ll sometimes wake up earlier. He’ll just lay there, tangling his fingers with Nate’s, waiting for the other to wake up so he can kiss him good morning.

Who works the latest? Ray. He always gets so caught up in different projects and he doesn’t want to leave them until they’re finished. And he doesn’t just work the latest, but also the longest. He’ll stay up for 36 hours before he crashes, and Nate often has to drag him to bed and remind him to sleep.

Who spins in those squeaky office chairs to annoy the other? They both do, because they’re immature toddlers who want to wind up Sara and Stein, and the best way to do that is by spinning in the two squeakiest chairs on the bridge until the other two walk away (or until Sara gets out a gun and threatens to shoot them).(Jax 110% joins in with them when he’s pissed off with Stein, and they encourage him like awful influences they are).

Who has the most questionable taste in music? Nate, though it’s more because he has such a wide range of taste in music, from Baroque to House to Hip-hop to Punk. His playlist is a mess of different songs that drive Ray mad, because he’ll get used to the low bass in one song, only to have flutes and violins assault his ears 3 minutes later, which then change to something that sounds more like a call to war than music.

Who opts for buying take away instead of cooking? Ray, because he can’t cook to save his life. Nate only opts for it when he really can’t be bothered to cook, and no one else is on cooking duty.

Who plans the best dates? They both plan pretty good dates. Nate always takes them somewhere (and sometime) that he knows they’ll both find very interesting and somewhere beautiful, like a lake in the mountains, or a museum/gallery he knows Ray will find interesting, and Ray plans very romantic dates at restaurants and cinemas and more generic date venues. What he lacks in originality, he makes up for in thought and romantic gestures (like flowers and favourite desserts).

Who blushes the most? Ray, with his dark hair and pale skin, blushes very easily, and it’s a look that Nate loves on him, so he tries to make Ray blush as often as possible. Whispering (really inappropriate) things in his ear and complimenting him are surefire ways to do this.

Who gets super into holidays like Christmas and Halloween and who only does it because it makes the other happy? They both like holidays a lot. Nate gets very excited about the cultural significance and history of the holidays, while Ray just loves being able to spoil Nate. And he loves to see him dress up as Indiana Jones. (The same can be said for Nate when he sees Ray in his Han Solo costume. However, Ray doesn’t always see the point in dressing up, seeing as it usually all ends up on the floor five minutes later anyway).

Who has the biggest kink (and what is it)? Ray once asked Nate if he liked Indiana Jones so much because of the whips. This prompted Nate to ask if the reason Ray liked Han Solo so much was because he was usually in handcuffs. (Jax wishes he didn’t have a room next to those two, and that the walls were thicker).

Who is more aggressive in bed? At first, Nate was really careful in bed with Ray, because he was really scared of going all ‘Steel-On’ and accidentally hurting Ray. It wasn’t until Ray told Nate to stop treating him like a fragile doll (and that he liked being held down) that Nate decided to be a little bit more adventurous and aggressive in bed. (Alternatively: Ray kicks Nate in his sleep, and even though he can turn into Steel, the bruises still hurt). (Jax wants a new room).

Who is constantly groping the other in public? Nate is shameless. It started off as one of those things to make Ray blush, and Nate hasn’t stopped doing it since he started, even though Mick says he’s going to gag, Martin’s eye does this weird twitching thing every time he sees Nate grope Ray’s ass, Amaya politely ignores their adolescent antics, and Sara always throws a saucy wink when she catches the two of them. Jax pretends not to notice anything and then asks Gideon if she can make brain bleach. The answer is unfortunately no.

Lights on or off? On. They like to be able to see each other. (Ray is also afraid of the dark, but he pretends that he just wants to see Nate and his beautiful face. Nate is such a sappy dork that he believes this).

Who is the animal lover? Ray always wanted a puppy when he was growing up, but he was allergic, so now that he has access to future drugs and antihistamines, he adopts all the stray pets he can find, and showers them with love. Nate does love animals, but “there is a limit, Ray”. He puts his foot down after the 6th half-drowned kitten Ray brings home. (Ray pouts for five minutes until Sara threatens to make Ray take all of the animals to a shelter if he adopts another animal). (He starts hiding them in Mick’s room. Mick only realises this when he finds a kitten in his underwear drawer).

Who hogs the blankets? Nate steals all the blankets. His core temperature was lowered after his skin was turned to steel, and so he needs the blankets to stay warm. (Ray is highly doubtful about this explanation). However, he does learn to share the blankets after Ray threatens to kick him out of the bed if he wakes up with cold toes. One. More. Time.

Who is basically used as a body pillow by the other? They swap during the night, and sometimes Ray will wake up with Nate’s head on his stomach (”seriously, I know that my skin turns to steel, but are your abs made of steel?”), or Nate will wake up to Ray’s warm breath puffing against his neck, head pillowed on his shoulder, curled up around his like some overly-warm, snuggly octopus.

Do they ever spontaneously dance together? Sometimes, when they’re in the kitchen together, and Nate is baking something, an old song will come on the vintage radio (they have this for…some reason that nobody is quite clear on. Sara stole it from Stein’s younger self. He was rather upset at the revelation that this is where his favourite radio disappeared too). Ray will come up behind Nate, and slip his arms around his waist, rest his head on Nate’s shoulder, and they’ll just sway together to the music for a little while.

Who has a really cute freckle and where? Ray has this really cute smattering of freckles in the middle of his back, and Nate loves kissing them one by one, because they’re ticklish and they make Ray blush

Who sings in the shower? Nate will take his phone into the bathroom with him and put on his terrible, mismatched playlist, and sing completely out of tune to all of the songs. Rays pretty sure that Nate doesn’t even know the words to half the songs, and just makes most of it up

Who takes pictures of the other at random times? They both do, thought Ray tends to do it more. After Anna died, he realised that he didn’t have many photos of them, at least not personal ones, and he used to freak out when he found himself forgetting things like what she looked like when she laughed, or first thing in the morning as the sun came through the windows. So he takes every opportunity he can to take pictures of Nate, so that he can never forget.

Who does the laundry? Gideon. They’ll just chuck clothes in the direction of the laundry chute and hope that they go in. Half the time their room looks like a clothes-bomb exploded in there. Jax occasionally goes in to check that the two morons haven’t drowned in fabric yet, and drops off the clothes that Gideon has done, seeing as if it was left to Nate and Ray, they’d have literally nothing to wear. (Jax does not want to see Ray streaking to the laundry room to pick up all of his clothes ever again, thank you very much)(Sara recorded the entire thing as blackmail material)

Who gets babied when they’re sick? Neither of them gets overly babied. Obviously they’re very worried, and Nate’s a lot more worried when Ray takes physical damage, but they don’t baby the other. They do, however, make (or get Gideon to replicate) chicken soup, and take care of the other when they’re sick

I hope that was ok for you anon, and that I did a good job with these two, since this is my first time doing a SteelAtom headcanon :)

#steelatom #ray x nate #nate x ray #ray palmer #nate heywood #atom #steel #legends of tomorrow #ask #lot #lot txt #lotedit #lot hc #lot headcanons #hc: lot #hc: steelatom

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awed-frog · 7 years

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I watched it now and I don't it. Remember in your last review you said u dislike how spn always does the same with the ambiguity; but /this/ is the thing I dislike having s/t major happen like Crowley saving Cas and it not changing/having no longlasting impact on any or their dynamic as seen with Sam/Dean/Crowley. With Crowley but also with Cas who has had one of his biggest moments in his story, is just tossed aside doing his day job and giving off screen plot updates.

Look, on good days I tell myself it just about works, right, because both Sam and Dean basically have the emotional range of a teaspoon and they don’t want to talk to each other for various reasons and also we’ve got this weird show, yeah, where sometimes weeks and weeks pass between two episodes, so while we’re still sitting here crying and giffing things, for them - they haven’t moved on, exactly, but they’ve been on three other hunts and they’ve killed stuff and they’ve been slammed into walls and stabbed and cursed, so, who even knows.

So, yes, if you squint, it sort of makes sense.

But also: it really doesn’t. Those are narrative choices, aren’t they? Because I’m still convinced Dean did say something about his mom to that social worker, Beth, and they didn’t show us that. And it’s possible Sam had some awkward exchange with a librarian or a waitress or, hell, someone at Asa’s funeral - they never showed us that either. And what about nurses and doctors? I don’t know how believable it is that they never need a professional to patch them up, and moments like those - you’re in shock, perhaps, and your adrenaline is still up and your heart is beating boom boom BOOM - I’m not saying they’d tell people about monsters, but we know they do confide in other people sometimes. Look at Dean and that priest, or Dean and werewolf widow Michelle - I’m sure there were a lot of other cases. They’re only human, after all. And, well, the same goes for everything else: those dead people they carry on their backs like heavy chains and never talk about, new monsters and new freakishness that’s never mentioned again, heavy trauma seemingly unremembered, and, yes, momentous events that apparently change nothing, like Cas being afraid to leave the Bunker and Crowley’s suddenly selflessness.

Ultimately, I think it all comes down to the usual doublespeak. They’ve got a show about monsters and gore, so that’s what they keep filming. When I first joined the fandom, I asked around about this, and someone told me it was a CW problem - that all their shows are aimed at women - think Jane the Virgin, The Vampire Diaries and Supergirl - and with this one muscle cars and blazing guns extravaganza, they wanted a piece of the male demographics, so by God, they’re fighting to keep it. I really don’t know enough about any of it to have an opinion, but it’s certainly true that Supernatural is only one step removed from those old Clint Eastwood movies: cowboy stuff with a few tears thrown in. And since they know - and we know - that Sam and Dean are not like that, they’re probably afraid that any conversation about anything will stray into chick-flick territory -

(which, ironic)

- and that will be it, goodbye male viewers and goodbye Republicans and goodbye anyone who likes to pretend men don’t have feelings and never talk about anything because being worried and guilty and anxious and overwhelmed - my God, so gay - pull yourself together and walk it off.

So I understand where you’re coming from - I feel the same way. But this show is mostly subtextual, and that’s it - love it or leave it. We spend a lot of time on those clues about Dean’s bisexuality and his love for Cas, but we could spend even more time in mapping out what goes down in all those moments we don’t see. Because we know they keep in contact with people, for instance, we know they worry (look at Dean casually mentioning to Jody he’d been wondering about how the girls were). We know they probably don’t eat fast food day in day out, if only because they look the way they do and they’re not getting any younger, so someone - probably Dean - buys groceries and cooks. We’ve seen Dean ironing clothes (and that was, like, the first time in 12 season?) but we know that must be a common occurence, as is buying those clothes, which are costumes, really, so there must be some debate between them into what pyschologists wear or whatever. We know they have many painful anniversaries, and how do they spend them? We know Sam must be going through something major right now - that God he prayed to his whole life? a fraud - the archangel who whispered to him every night for years? still around, and I’ll never believe Sam can’t feel his presence somehow - the people who burned him with a blowtorch? working with his mother - but it’s been weeks and weeks and Sam is just peachy. And we know a lot about Dean too - in fact, we know so much I won’t bore you with it.

[More on Crowley and Family Feud below the cut.]

Now, the problem is - some of it may be marketing, and other things are down to narrative choices (for instance, we’ve seen what Sam becomes when Lucifer climbs inside his mind: do we really need to see that again?*), but it’s still bizarre to watch a show like this one, which is 90% subtext and silences. Because they talk and talk about ‘going where the story leads them’ or whatever - they don’t. They insist in going in circles, because that’s the format of the show: drive somewhere, talk to people, drink bad beer, gank vampire, drive off. But stories change, and characters grow. I remember people bitching because there was no Quidditch in HP7 - and, I mean, are you for real? The Dark Lord’s taken over - there’s what amount to a military dictatorship over half of Britain - Muggleborns are being rounded up, their wands snapped in half - and you think that, what, Harry can stay at Hogwarts and play Quidditch? So here, what you’ve got is a format which used to work well with two angry young men who saw no need to talk to each other, but now - now they’re grown-ups, for fuck’s sake. And their lives actually depend on adapting their strategy around new enemies, which brings me back to Crowley.

What Buckleming did to Crowley last week is a flashing billboard of why you can’t stick to your format no matter what. Because at this point I’m pretty sure they’re planning to have Crowley betray them in some major way, again, and the problem is that good writing leads you into complicated situations you should really adjust to? Like - I may be completely off the mark, but - in Stuck in the Middle (With Me) they needed Crowley, so they wrote him in. And then it made sense that he was the only one to know about the Lance (I still think Cas is bizarelly oblivious about a lot of things concerning Heaven, but whatever), and therefore he was the only one who knew to break it. Great, done, beautiful scene, huge bit of character development. And next those two idiots have to steer the story in the ‘right’ direction again - ie, the general arc that’s been decided for the season - which means Crowley must be given a reason to be bad again or something, so they go and write that - a confusing, OOC episode full of plot holes whose only point is to give Crowley a reason to hate the Winchesters. And I’m not saying you can’t write him that way, but the problem is - that episode made me hate the Winchesters as well, because, come on - all those times they’ve gone back and forward in time and come back to life and somehow that’s not a problem, but suddenly poor wee Gavin does it and you absolutely need to kill him? And what if that had been Sam, uh? Would Dean have sent Sam back to a doomed ship without so much as a shrug? Nope, because when it’s about them, they find another way. And the fact they didn’t allow Crowley so much as a goodbye - the fact they trust Rowena over Crowley - people who spend a solid twenty minutes every episode harping on and on about family - that’s -

(That’s exactly what happened with Charlie, by the way: they needed a reason to have Dean snap, and took a shortcut. An extremely unbelievable, OOC and badly written shortcut.)

Anyway.

I don’t know what to tell you. I think my Dean, the Dean I write about, would never have been so cavalier about destroying an innocent person and someone Crowley cared about so much (the one line I liked about that episode: “In your own lizard way, I know you cared for him.”). In fact, the Dean I know would have acknowledged the huge debt he now has with Crowley - would have bought him a beer, at the very least.

(Then again, the Sam I know was affected by Lucifer’s presence - my Sam would have had some kind of faith crisis over last year’s events, and he wouldn’t have been so whatever about being locked away not once, but twice already, and he would probably have debilitating nightmares and still, despite everything, he would be sympathetic to the BMoL’s proposals because that’s who he is, or who he thinks he is: a Means and Ends kind of guy.

Shows what I know.)

I think we need to accept this show has a format, and that format doesn’t leave a lot of room for plot coherence and character development, which means a lot of the actualy story will stay in the subtext and sometimes we’ll be left to explain away illogical points and general weirdness. Luckily, most of the writers seem to know what they’re doing and they’re able to fit a lot even into a MoTW episode, but other things are just wrong, and that’s why we have fanfiction.

*Just to be clear: I would love to hear more about Sam and Lucifer, and I’m convinced it could be written in a new way, and I know they’ve got the right people to work on that - my God, just look at what Berens and Dabb were able to do with a couple of werewolves - look at what Yockey’s doing with nothing at all.

[Sorry for the rant. I mostly like this show - a lot - but as I’ve said before, its inconsistency is occasionally very hard to bear. Every other show I watch, I know exactly what I can expect - in terms of quality, that is - and here - here I’m thinking they could have something that’s critically acclaimed, as well as fiercely loved, and instead they throw it away - and for what?]

#ask #spn meta #spn 12x12 #spn 12x13 #crowley #dean winchester #sam winchester #buckleming #some negativity #spn problems #good writing can pierce through the veil of death #and save the day #(hopefully)

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imagine-darksiders · 7 years

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Could you maybe do a scenario with all our beloved Horsemen and their not yet s/o right before they leave they're human companion to confront a particularly dangerous boss? Like before War leaves to fight Straga while his s/o remains with Azrael and they throw their arms around him and tell him to comeback alive, because they can't stand to lose him too but with all the Horsemen? Pretty please and thanks a bunch for being you! Wishing you a great day, plenty of inspiration!

Thanks for the sweet message, I need all the inspiration i can get Im so tireddd xxxx

Nothing lasts forever,Forever is a lie. All we have is what’s betweenA Hello and Goodbye….

Death: “This is it, isn’t it?” You whisper tiredly up at the even tireder looking horseman beside you.

“….Yes,” he sighs down, “I believe it is.”

The pair of you are standing at the base of the Tree of Life’s trunk. The fight with Absolom, the fight that you knew was coming but never thought would actually arrive is finally upon you.

You move forward to enter the dark tunnel, but you’re stopped by Death suddenly grabbing the back of your jumper. You twist your head around to look up at him with a questioning gaze.

“You’re staying here,” he states sternly, “with the Crowfather.”

Of course.

On your way to the tree, Death had made you swear that you wouldn’t try to interfere with his fight against Absolom, and although you’re far from happy about it, you know you’ve really little choice in the matter. There’s no way the horseman is letting you through that door.

Grimacing, you give him a reluctant nod and he releases your garment, striding past you towards the large, stone doorway. But this time, he is stopped by you grabbing his hand and snaking your fingers through his own.

The horseman pauses, but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets out a soft sigh as he turns fully to look down at you. Suddenly under the scrutiny of your best friend, you tighten your grip on his hand but cast your eyes down at his boots.

“Can- can you…” you let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to force the tears back into your eyes, “Can you do me a favour?” You look up to find that he’s nodding for you to continue.

“I hate asking for you to do something else for me, you’ve already done so much. But….” You choke suddenly, your throat going tight and throbbing, “Promise me. Promise me you’ll be okay?”

Death sighs yet again, this one much longer and much sadder than before.

“I’m afraid I don’t deal in promises, little one.” He says in a quiet, gentle voice.

“Well then…Tell me,” you demand, “Tell me you’ll be okay.” The words come out sounding like a pained whine and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the tears that now drip down your chin like water falling off tree leaves.

Death regards you with maddeningly kind eyes. You almost want to hit him, to tell him to stop being so damned understanding all the time. But you’re so tired, tired of all of this. “You know what happens after all of this?” He asks, knowing full well that its all you’ve been thinking about for days.

With a solemn nod, you answer miserably, “I know. I just want…” you give an exasperated sigh before continuing, “I want to be able to say goodbye.”

Death’s eyes glint with the remnants of remorse. “There may not be time.”

“Then MAKE time!” Suddenly, you snap up at him, almost immediately regretting saying that so harshly. But you’re scared for him.

Instead of looking hurt or shocked, Death nods to you, “Of course.” He whispers, raising a hand to straighten out the sleeve of your crumpled jumper. He’s playing for time, you realise. He wants me to say something now.

Without a second thought, you throw yourself forward and wrap your arms tightly around the horseman’s waist, burying your face into the cold skin of his chest. Death doesn’t make a sound and doesn’t miss a beat as one of his hands rests against the back of your head, pressing you deeper into him and the other lingers delicately in the small of your back, sharp fingernails lightly grasping the fabric of your top.

“Please be alright, I love you,” you mumble into him, “I think I might really love you. You’re gonna be fine.” Whether you’re reassuring yourself or him is up for debate, but right now, he simply allows himself to revel in this final, caring contact you’re giving him. There’s a dull ache in his chest where a heart might be found when you tell him you love him. ‘It’s a good ache’, he thinks.

War: War strolls forward to stand before Azrael, glaring up at the angel as he demands that he open the way to the last of the Chosen.. Azrael nods with an air of finality, raising his hands towards the floor, but with a flicker of his eyes, he notices you standing behind War, looking as though you’re fighting to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Hmm….War,” the angel begins, lowering his hands, “I believe there’s someone who wants to wish you ‘good luck’ first…” War follows Azrael’s gaze to rest on your tiny, sad form. You’re shaking and biting your lip painfully hard as you scrub some dried blood off your face. The horseman pulls his lips back into a sympathetic grimace, closing the gap between you and pushing a large, metal finger underneath your chin. He gently forces it into the air and your watery eyes finally meet his soft blue ones.

You swallow whilst he waits, gazing into your eyes with a fierce brightness that almost makes you look away again. But instead, you hold his eyes with your own and whisper, sadly, “Don’t go…”

War furrows his brow, “I must, Y/n. Straga-”

“I don’t want you to go, I don't want to lose someone else that I love.” You whimper, finally letting the tears spill over your lower eyelids to roll steadily down your face. The horseman’s look softens significantly. He hesitantly looks to Azrael, as though needing guidance from the angel in what he should do next. Whilst he’s looking away, he suddenly feels small hands stretch their way around his stomach, nearly touching at his back but not quite being able to reach all the way around his girth. War looks down, seeing you with your face pressed to the armour just below his breastplate. Fingers twitching uncertainty, War ends up stroking a thumb over your hair and softly patting you on the shoulder with his other hand in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture.

War clenches his teeth at the thought of leaving you, temporarily or otherwise, so turning to Azrael, he mutters, “If anything happens to Y/n whilst I’m dealing with Straga….”

“I can assure you,” Azrael bows his head towards you, “no harm shall come to the child under my watch.”

War returns the nod, before slowly backing up, forcing you to relinquish your tight grip. As he turns and begins to head down the steps, you call out to him,”Please come back, War!” He pauses and looks over his shoulder at you. Blinking back tears, you offer him a wobbly smile, “I’m running quite low on friends nowadays….”

Strife: You all but throw yourself at Strife when he turns to bid you a temporary farewell. He lets out a startled grunt as you collide into him and your arms grip his neck that would likely be painful to anyone else. But to Strife, it provides the utmost comfort. He sighs and wraps his own arms around your back, suspending you in the air while he leans backwards to make your face meet his. Your forehead comes close to his and he presses his forward to bump into it affectionately.

“Hey, what gives, small fry?” He teases, looking playfully into your eyes as they brim with unshed tears. “Why the waterworks?”

You shake your head dismally as he gently lowers you to the ground again. You raise a hand to flick a stray tear away from your face as you look up at him with a stern expression on your face.

“Do you promise me you’ll come back?” You ask, hands clasped before you in a pleading gesture. Strife’s eyes widen briefly and you watch a smirk flit onto his face.

“What’re you talkin’ about, huh? Course I’m comin’ back.” He reaches up to rustle your hair and knuckle your chin. You pout up at him but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. He’s always been an expert at cheering you up, making you feel like everything would be alright in the end.

Still, this is going to be one of the toughest fights he’d face, he wouldn’t even let you in the vicinity, opting to make you stay back and wait for him somewhere safe.

“How come you’re so worried about me anyway?” He raises a brow to emphasise the question, one which you can answer without missing a beat. “Because I love you, Strife. You’re probably the best friend I’ve had in a long time and I’m not too keen on losing yet another person I care about.”

Strife grins with a cocksure look about him. “Shucks, Y/n. Now you’ve gone and made me feel guilty about havin’ a death wish.” He chuckles, but you’re still sombre.

“Strife,” you murmur, catching his lively eyes that crinkle at the corners reassuringly, “just….Just make sure you do. Come back, I mean.” Looking up at him shyly, you try your best to keep the tangible worry from your voice. But Strife simply lowers his head, peering at you through half lidded eyes. There’s a beat of silence before he says something and it’s so out of character for him, you almost blanch.

“I’m not leaving you alone here, promise. I’m gonna come back, cause I gotta, for you.” The sincerity in his tone is as moving as it is unnerving and you can’t help the stunned expression that envelops your features.

With a wink, Strife whirls about and lopes off towards his quarry, leaving you standing in the dying light of the sun, praying for his safe return.

Fury: It had been a very tense argument about why you weren’t allowed to go with her to fight this particular demon. You were both adamant that you wanted to protect the other, you by helping her kill her target, and she by keeping you as far from it as possible.

The stalemate lasted for hours until finally, you caved. She looked so tired and worried that you told her you’d stay behind. But you were livid about having to do so.

“I know.” She whispered, brushing the back of her fingers across your cheek, “But this is not a creature that I can protect you from, not like I can with those we’ve faced together so far.”

Her brief explanation did very little to console you, so Fury placed both of her hands behind your head at the base of your neck and pulled your head forwards until her soft, plump lips met your brow.

“You are so brave, Y/n. So very brave...” She trails off when you rest your hands on her forearms and rub your thumbs along her exposed skin there. You let out a miserable sound as she pulls away, your hands sliding down her arms to grasp both of the horseman’s hands tightly. Fury laughs, suddenly you can’t stop thinking that this could be the last time you ever heard it.

Fury begins to back away, slowly letting her arms stretch out in front of her, finally letting go with one and turning away from you slightly. Your remaining hand still laced with her own starts to slip slowly from her grasp, your fingers and hers are outstretched until only the very tips are touching…. Then she lets go completely, turning fully from you now she summons her horse and mounts up.

With cold, cruel tears pouring from your eyes, you reach towards her, “Fury!” She turns briefly to glance back down into your face, her brows creasing sadly at your own anguish. “I love you..” you whisper, so quietly you cant be sure she actually heard you. But judging by the way her golden eyes flash brightly and her lips stretch wide into a joyous grin, you feel your doubt slide away, leaving only enough room for hope.

“And I love you, dear one.”

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #imagine darksiders #reader #death #war #fury #strife

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