#everything is so bright. feel i could see the blueprints of the universe if I fully opened my eyes

[spooky-lestibournes]

God. Im seeing colors i didn't know existed

[chasingpj]

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

summary: five ways he says i love you through his actions

warnings: implied nudity and s*x, discusses food and eating and nothing else, i think. oh, and maybe some typos

category: headcanons

love letters/notes

leo is a busy boy

he's always picking up new projects so he can spend all day in his workshop or the forges with his siblings

when you guys live together, he leaves small notes on the refrigerator for you

they're always short, saying simple things like "i love you" and "i miss you already"

for the love letters, he'll leave them in random places for you to find

if you're a big reader, i can see him hiding it between the pages of your book

one day, you pick up your book to read, and the note falls on your lap

it's a love letter written on a piece of blueprint paper; there’s a little bit of oil smudged on the side of it

he got distracted while he was working on something because you were the only thing he could think about

his love letters never fail to make your heart flutter

sometimes they make you cry

he's quite sentimental

leo always tells you he does better writing down his feelings than he is saying it out loud because he can organize his thoughts better

you know that leo has a hard time with that because of how he grew up

when you guys have an argument, which isn't very often, he writes his feelings down on paper

he's always quick to apologize if he did something wrong, and the notes help him form the apology that you deserve, and you're quick to forgive him

once, you were super angry after an argument, so you locked yourself in your shared bedroom

you needed to calm yourself down

the both of you much too angry and stubborn to make a compromise

as your recollecting yourself, 40 minutes in, a folded piece of paper slips from under the door

the letter has teardrop stains, and the ink is slightly smudged

on the paper, it's all his thoughts written out in the best way he can explain them

after reading what he wrote, you quickly deemed that whatever you were fighting about was silly, and you guys made up

you love his spontaneous notes so much that you do them back

you guys have a game of who can find the most creative hiding spot for your notes

one time you found one tapped to the inside of the toilet cover

you found it hilarious

you throw folded post-its with messages in his tool belt

he finds them during the day while he's working on something

after you joined in on the fun, he scatters notes in random places, and every few days, you find a new message hidden somewhere randomly

they're just so sweet; there’s never a time where they don't make you smile

gifts

this is a given

it's not a leo headcanon if gift-giving isn't included

he would make you things like roses from scrap metal to literal furniture

if you have a lot of jewelry, he will make you a cute jewelry box

if you're a big book reader, he'll make you bookcases to support your book collection

he's always giving you little trinkets that he made with leftover materials from projects

he loves making things for you and gets upset when you decide to buy something from ikea instead of asking him

"babe, why would you buy that? I could have just made it for you!"

when he's on his way from returning on his quest, sometimes he'll find something that reminds him of you in a store, and he'll buy it

when he has the money for it, he'd buy you a star :(

says that he spent even more money to buy an extra bright star

because "you're the sun in my universe"

brb gonna cry

also, he'd gift you a bond bracelet

you know, those bracelets where every time you tap on it, it makes the other person's bracelet vibrate

the both of you get anxious when one of you goes on quests, so the bracelets bring the other person who's at home comfort

because when you tap back, at least he knows you're alive and vice versa

one of the best gifts you've ever received from him was your engagement ring

he made it himself

he took so much care and effort into making it

imagine leo forging your wedding ring himself??? i'm in spain with no s

he was so nervous that you wouldn't like the style, so he had piper casually bring it up to you

piper was so nonchalant about it that you didn't even think twice about the question

the ring has the prettiest gemstone or diamond (whatever you prefer)

you cried so hard when he told you he made it himself that you couldn't even say yes to his proposal clearly

he makes both of your wedding bands too

he carves a saying that's dear to the both of you on the inside

this is nothing to do with anything but imagine when you guys have kids, he makes animals out of pipe cleaners for them i'm gonna cry, brb pt 2

overall, whether he makes the present himself or not, he puts a lot of effort and care into it

every gift has a meaning and a place dear to your heart

cooking for you

leo is canoningly a good cook

he loves cooking for you

and you love eating what he makes

he's usually busy on the weekdays, so he cooks on the weekends

you guys always joke that he'd be the cutest househusband

you got him an apron for Christmas as a joke gift one year, and he wears it all the time

there's something so charming about him wearing an apron with a funny saying like "Mr. Good Lookin is Cookin" or with like a ripped out shirtless guy in front of it

you giggle every time you see him wearing it

oh, no matter how many times you've seen it, it's still so bizarre when he takes out hot trays from the oven with his BARE hands

everything he makes tastes amazing

he makes all kinds of food and is always trying something new

if you tell him what you’re craving, he’ll cook it for you

once he woke you up to ask if you wanted ribs… it was 3 am but like, of course, you wanted some

unless you're vegetarian or vegan, sorry, HAHA

often though, he does make Mexican food

it reminds him of when his mom was alive

he always has some story to share

every time he makes caldo de pollo (chicken soup), he always talks about how his mother would make it in the summer and that when he was little, he would always complain about eating hot soup in hot weather

you know he doesn't notice his constant telling of this story, but you don't mind

it's so bittersweet when he talks about his mom

through the cooking of his traditional food, you feel closer to him and his late mother

the memories he shares with you makes your eyes sting with tears

especially when leo says how much he wishes that esperanza could have met you

sorry, that was a little emo

also, leo usually wakes up earlier than you

he knows you're a sleepyhead, so he'll cook breakfast for you

so that when you're running around in the morning trying to get dressed and your things together

you never leave the house hungry because there's always a tupperware filled with breakfast, and if he has enough time, he'll fix you something to take for lunch too

if you come home late from work or school, he'll make dinner even if he's tired to surprise you

so many times you've come home from a shitty day at work or school, and the small table where you guys eat your meals is all set up with your favorite food

leo greets you by peeking his head into the hallway from the kitchen, tossed curls, cheerful brown eyes, and a bright grin

"I hope you're hungry," he says, despite knowing that you are hungry

and then you guys talk and laugh together over a delicious meal

compliments

leo's really observant

he notices when you’re in a bad mood, even if you try not to show it

he also notices when you change little things about your appearance

if you get a haircut or you get your nails done, he'll comment on it right away

especially outfits

if you buy something new, he'll complement it

imagine standing in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in your new outfit

leo comes behind you, his hands coming around your waist

he'll pepper kisses on your neck, a soft hum leaving his lips as he meets your eyes in the mirror

"is this new, mi amor?" he asks, hands running up your sides

once you affirm that it is a new dress or shirt, he'll smile and tell you how beautiful you look in it

maybe says he'd rather see it off of you wink wink

there's never a day where he doesn't compliment you

he thinks you're the prettiest person in the world

you've caught him staring at you lovingly plenty of times

he's just asking himself how did he manage to get someone as beautiful and amazing as you

you always squirm under his gaze and playfully ask what is he looking at

"you're so pretty, mi amor. I can't help it."

AHHH!!!!

alongside the endearment of mi amor, he'd always call you bonita and hermosa

you're so sweet to him, and he can't help but tell you how much you mean to him every chance he gets

surprises

leo is an acts of service kind of guy

i think he'll spontaneously do things to make you happy

if you've been busy studying for finals or just beat up from a day at work

he'll draw you a bath

or he'll cut up some fruit for you and leave it at your desk

he randomly buys you flowers

he never needs an occasion to buy your flowers

it'll be a regular tuesday, leo just happened to walk past a store with flowers displayed in the front, and he thought about how bright your smile would be if he showed up with a bouquet

I feel like he's pretty introverted, enjoys being at home with you

the both of you are pretty broke for a while, so a lot of dates were at home

leo made the most of it

you guys will have nice dinners at home

he'll set the table nicely, set the mood with candles

he'll redecorate the space so well you feel like you're at an actual restaurant

and of course, his food is amazing

breakfast in bed is another thing he'd do for you unsolicited

especially if you guys had a looong night wink wink

you're woken up by his still groggy voice, fluttering kisses on your cheeks

you open your eyes to see he's set a tray with your favorite breakfast on top of the bed

the two of you will eat breakfast together, which usually leads to you staying in bed for the rest of the day

just enjoying the warm cocoon your sheets create around the both of you

overall, he's super observant and caring, and he goes the extra mile to make sure you're happy because he knows you do the same

anyways, does anyone know where I can get a leo?

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @Slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky

[detectivedamian]

Following Damian getting friendzoned by Jon, Jon realizing he’s in love with Damian, Jon trying to court Damian, and Jon figuring out Damian’s in love with him, too; Jon becomes emboldened by the knowledge that it’s him, that Damian loves him.

He writes him a note in class and passes it to him. It’s all rather simple: Will you go out with me? -Jon

Damian is confused at the note, because that sounds like a date? Oh, Jon must want him to pass the note to somebody. Ouch, but he’ll do it to keep his cover. And then he looks up and sees a pretty girl with long eyelashes, and of course he thinks yeah, that’s Jon’s type and passes the note to her. The girl takes the note, and is very confused, looking back at Jon. And now Jon is miming “no” to her, shaking his head, body combusting with pure red. Damian watches Jon bury his head in his hands and wonders what he missed. Damian has to go to lunch ahead of him because Jon spends the first five minutes explaining that the note was not meant for her, please, oh god, don’t misunderstand.

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

They’re flying home in one of the patented Bat-Planes with their fathers after a long, arduous mission that Damian didn’t want to call for help to close, but the mystery led Batman and Superman to them anyway. They’re in the back, snarking at each other, the way they always do, and Damian smiles. It’s everything in Jon not to kiss him, then. They’re silent for a moment, Damian drawing up a report on his pad, Jon watching the way the lights reflect on that perfect skin, on his long eyelashes, the emerald green of his eyes. Jon reaches over, slowly, to take Damian’s resting hand at the armrest, and he squeezes it. The words are on his lips: Damian, can I kiss you? Damian... I love you. Damian blinks at him and takes the hand away, instead patting his back. “You’re flushed,” Damian notes, “Is it possible for a Kryptonian to get motion sick?”

“Well sure,” Clark says from the front two seats with Bruce, before Jon can scream, “...usually it takes more than a smooth plane ride like this, though!” Bruce offers some antacids and ondansetron, because bats are always prepared for anything, and Damian is already standing and lifting one of the plane’s many compartments up to retrieve medication Jon does not need to sooth an infliction Jon does not suffer from. Damian returns a moment later, hiding concern under inconvenienced irritation. Jon’s eye twitches as he takes the bottle and mumbles a very insincere “thanks”.

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

They have to go undercover for a mission, infiltrate this fancy little gala where their target will be attending with some blueprints to a world-ending machine-- Jon isn’t paying super close attention to the overly-complicated details but it sounds like a death ray of some sort. Very James Bond. Damian draws up a backstory and passes Jon the papers and a costume, some patchy plaid suit and glasses that are wider and thicker than what he usually wears, blond wig, too. He looks like a total dork. By the time Jon has figured out how to get this wig to look like normal human hair, he steps into the main room at their Fortress of Attitude and finds his heart is stopping.

Damian stands at the center in a dress, bright lime green with ruffles, small black mary-janes with white pantihoes, and it doesn’t even stop there. He’s got a blond wig on, too, and it’s big and wavy, and those curls frame his face and oh god he’s wearing this ruby red lipgloss. His eyelashes are coated in mascara and there’s green eyeshadow on his lids and Jon can feel his knees wobbling as Damian bats his eyelashes at him. Jon coughs and crosses the way as Damian slips on elbow-length white gloves, then gingerly sets a hand at his upper arm and squeezes. “So,” he says with a blush, “I guess we’re a couple of betrothed lovebirds for the night?”

Damian scowls and slaps the hand away. “No! Didn’t you read the mission biops? We’re brother and sister, genius! Nobody would buy an engagement at our age. This is Europe, Jon, not the Persian Gulf.”

Because of course. Of course that’s how Damian set them up. Damian is manufacturing their fake IDs and passports as he’s crossing his arms. The night is going to be long, and awkward, because he knows very well that the interest between himself and Damian is not that of a familial bond, and people are going to notice them staring lovingly at each other, right? “You really think people are going to buy that you and I are brother and sister?”

“Of course,” Damian glares at him. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“No reason,” Jon rolls his eyes.

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

On another mission, the’re headed to Hawaii. They can go as themselves this time, of course, because the Wayne Foundation has a headquarters there, and it wouldn’t be suspicious if Damian Wayne just brought his friend along to a tourist hotspot. Damian assures him: “We’ll be right on the beach, a prime stakeout location if we’re going to spot Miss Spumoni in the open.” Jon nods along, but he’s staring at Damian again, thinking about having a romantic walk on the beach with him, sharing a coconut together, kissing him in front of the sunset...

“Our hotel is roughly a quarter of a mile away from the Wayne Foundation HQ stationed in Honolulu.” Jon’s face goes red-- a hotel.

“Are we sharing a room?”

Damian scoffs at him. “Of course. We never know when we could get ambushed. Separating while we sleep is one surefire way to find ourselves at a disadvantage.” A hotel room! Together! Sharing breakfast alone together! One bed! Cuddling! A soft first kiss in the glow of the sunrise! If Damian notices Jon melting on the spot, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

When they get to the hotel room, there are two beds. Because that’s what they’ve done every time before. Jon wants to die. Damian is puzzled by the way Jon buries his face in his hands and stews to himself silently.

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

It’s later on this trip, after the mission is over and Spumoni is behind bars. Damian relents and tells Jon they have the hotel for a few more days-- may as well enjoy the rest of Hawaii.

They go surfing together. Jon falls off his board and Damian laughs at him.

They do actually share a coconut together, having lunch at a shack on the beach in the summer heat.

Damian falls asleep in the sun and wakes up buried in sand. He screams at Jon who is at this point at the other end of the beach, grabbing a popsicle. He hears Damian’s angry screeching. The vendor is confused about why this kid suddenly just starts breaking into side-splitting laughter.

Damian refuses to go into the water, and Jon, renewed in all of this sun he’s soaking up, lifts Damian easily over his shoulder and drags him to the water as Damian is screaming and hitting at his back.

There’s one night where there’s a luau, and Jon convinces Damian to hula dance with him. There’s even a slow song, and as Damian pauses in his loose dancing with Jon, he looks around to find couples holding each other close and dancing together. He’s a little jealous, not that he’ll show it. Jon’s probably jealous, too, he figures, for different reasons. Jon would probably love to be holding a pretty dainty girl in his arms, slow dancing (while he stands at the sidelines and watches his best friend fall in love). Jon is just a friend, after all, and it still hurts. He grows tense, and straightens his back as he brings his walls back up. But then Jon’s hand is on his shoulder, and as he turns his head to look up, Jon is pulling him into his chest, smiling at him, just like he did at the engagement party that one time. “There are cameras here,” Damian mutters.

“Your dad’s a playboy, I think his son could handle a scandal or two.”

And to his surprise, Jon rests their foreheads together and closes his eyes, wrapping both hands together at his lower back. It’s so romantic, and god help him, Jon is playing with his heart now, and he’s mad about it. He closes his eyes, too, and he wraps his arms around Jon’s neck, rubbing his nose against Jon’s and hoping he doesn’t notice. (Jon does). They’re like this for what feels like an eternity before Jon opens his eyes just a sliver. He’s leaning down, closer, and Damian stays still, eyes still shut. This is it, Jon knows. His lips brush against Damian’s--

-- but it’s not even a kiss because there’s an explosion in the distance that startles the luau, and both Jon and Damian are pulling away from each other, eyes wide, before they jump into battle mode.

They don’t talk about it at all afterwards. Damian has no idea there’s anything to talk about, he’s just soaking up what he thinks was an accidental brush on Jon’s part. Jon is fuming at the universe. In an almost hilarious shift, Damian is the one all sunshine and smiles on the ride back, while Jon is quietly stone-faced and twitching.

[nerdperson524]

A Moment In Time

so here's the rest of my short story that I have to turn in next week. Comment and suggestions are welcome.

A Moment In Time

Death. What does it feel like? Is it peaceful? Is it painful? Will I feel anything at all?

I don't know.

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

My skin is on fire. The tears running down my cheeks sting. I smell charred flesh. There's a ringing in my ears muffling all other sounds. I think someone's calling my name.

This is it. I think to myself.

I'm dying. Everything hurts.

Just breathe. It'll be over soon.

Between the thick clouds of smoke I can see the stars lighting up the night sky above me.

Breathe in… Breathe out.

I feel the soft blades of grass beneath my fingertips. I guess you could say it's peaceful.

I inhale then exhale slowly.

I'm so tired. If I just close my eyes…for only a second...

There’s a nagging voice in my head.

Dani..Dani, wake up!

Dani!

It gets louder then suddenly fades to nothing.

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

I sit up from the bed, thoughts spiraling so fast I can’t keep track. Memories of bright white lights blinding me. A face appears and disappears from my mind. Machines whirring, a heart monitor beeping. Someone singing softly. Then. Nothing. Every thought just vanished. My head starts pounding as if I drank too much last night. Shit. Maybe I did drink too much last night.

Rubbing my eyes, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand up. Nausea assaults my stomach, and I bolt to the bathroom.

After brushing my teeth, I change out of my matching pajamas into an oversized hoodie and some leggings. Walking downstairs I hear the chattering of my older brother Nikolai and my mother. I step into the kitchen where they’re seated around the small four-chair table. Another man sits beside Nikolai. He looks very familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.

Nikolai sees me and smiles wide, “Dani! You’re awake!” He jumps up squeezing me in a deadly bear hug.

“Yeah...because it’s 10 in the morning…”

Mom smiles softly in our direction, “Niki, leave your sister alone, she’s probably still...hungover from her night out with friends.”

Oh, so I did have a fun night.

“Oh, heh. Sorry Dani. Just missed you, that’s all.” He lets go of me and walks over to the fridge.

“So is anyone going to introduce me to the man sitting beside you, Mom?”

“Dani, hon’, surely you remember our neighbor, Gabriel?”

At the mention of his name, my head starts pounding again, and I groan.

Gabriel. Why is that name so familiar?

The man, Gabriel, speaks, “I should get going. Nice to meet you again, Daniella. Hope you get to feeling better.”

“Uh thanks. Nice to meet you too.” I sit down at the table across from Mom and hear the front door shut behind him.

-----------

It’s hard seeing the person you love again after six long months, and they have no idea who you are.

It’s hard lying to their face. But you have to. You can’t mess up the timeline more than you already have.

Dani and I got married two years ago. We’ve known each other since university when we took the same quantum physics class. After she called me out in the middle of class for an error in my equation, I knew she was the one.

Six months ago she didn’t come home from work. Her brother called me saying there had been an explosion at the lab they both worked at. Nikolai was in the parking lot when it happened. He found her lying in the grass outside what used to be her office. When the EMTs arrived, she was gone.

I didn’t leave our bedroom for three weeks. The light of my life. Gone. Forever.

At least, that’s what I thought.

-----------

Nikolai showed up on my doorstep a month after the accident with blueprints in his hands. He found some of Dani’s research that she brought home a couple times. Ever the over-achiever she was. I’d listened to her wild theories about time travel before, but I thought she was only fantasizing. Apparently, not.

Nikolai and I spent the next few months interpreting her data and building a prototype of a time machine. She was almost finished herself. She had all the equations worked out, just hadn’t built it yet.

“Are you sure about this?” Nikolai asked for the fourth time today.

“Yes. And it was your idea to begin with.”

“Well, I just wanted to help you...and her.”

We calibrated the machine to the night of the accident and started it up. Made from a 2000s teaching projector, blue light was cast onto the garage wall.

“Well, Gabe, you always said you wanted to go to Platform 9 ¾,” grimaced Nikolai.

“Oh shut it,” I paused, tying a rope around my waist, “I just need to get her to leave the building before the explosion. So, after ten minutes, pull me back out.”

I stepped through the blue light and stepped out into the parking lot of Dani’s lab. I could see her office light illuminating the small garden she built in her windowsill.

God, what I would have done to run in there and hug her again. But I couldn’t. Who knows how it would mess up our future. This adventure of mine was risky enough.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, praying it would work even after playing with time and space. Luckily, I somehow managed three bars. Verizon, you glorious bastards.

I texted her, Call me when you start going to your car.

Her face popped up on my screen. I hesitated sliding my thumb across the screen to answer.

“Hey?” I cleared my throat, “you heading out already?”

“Not yet, just wanted to see why the cryptic message. I always call you on my way out. Is something wrong?”

I almost crumpled to the ground hearing her voice again.

“Oh no, just missed talking to you. I know you’ve been busy lately, and I didn’t want you to forget about me. I mean, uh, didn’t want you to forget to call me, so I know you got to your car safely.”

Safe. The word haunts me still. I wiped away a stray tear.

“Gabe...I’m sorry you feel like I’m forgetting about you. I promise I’ll be leaving soon then we can order crappy takeout and watch Nailed It while eating ice cream tonight,” she paused, “I love you, and I always will.”

I glanced at my watch. Time was running out.

“Okay, okay. I love you too. I love you so much, Daniella,” my breath hitched.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah I was uh watching cat videos. They’re so cute I just, got emotional. Oh hey can you do me a favor?” I’ve wasted too much time. She won’t make it to her car before the explosion. They said it started in the west wing of the building, near her office. If I could just get her farther away…

“Can you get me some of those weird nerdy protein bars from the vending machine near Nik’s office?”

She laughed, “Yeah I’ll go get them now before I forget.” I saw her silhouette stand and walk down the hall. Nikolai’s office is in the eastern wing.

“I love you so much, Dani.”

“You’re sappy today. I love you too.”

I chuckled, “Just never forget that, okay? Hey, why don’t you call Nik and ask him if there’s any other good snacks in the vending machine.”

“Alright, alright, see you soon,” my phone beeped indicating she hung up.

See you soon, my love.

About thirty seconds later, the building went up in flames, the blast scaring me even though I knew it would happen.

I blink and I’m staring at the blue light projected onto the garage wall again.

I look over my shoulder, and Nikolai is teary-eyed.

“You had her call me, didn’t you? In case she didn’t make it?”

I nodded solemnly then furrowed my eyebrows, “Wait, you said ‘in case.’ Did she..? Is she okay?”

He took a deep breath, “Dani was far away enough from the blast that she survived more than she would have if she were still in her office. But she still was seriously hurt...She’s still sleeping most of the day, her body’s recovering slowly.”

The new memories of this timeline were starting to come back.

“And she doesn’t remember me, at all,” I said looking at grass stuck to my shoes.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t want to force yourself into her life because the doc said it could cause more harm than good.”

I did.

--------

So here I am, leaving their house. I stopped by to talk to her mom and Nik. I didn’t expect her to come downstairs. Her mom said she was still taking some medication that made her extremely drowsy, but I guess today was a good brain day for her.

She looks well. Other than her post-concussion migraines.

“So is anyone going to introduce me to the man sitting beside you, Mom?”

A neighbor, that’s all I am to her now.

I can’t be upset. It’s not her fault. Having her living and breathing is worth it, even if she’ll never remember me.

She’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.

---------

“So, Dani, what do you wanna do today? You have some physical therapy at noon but after that we can do whatever you want,” Mom asks.

“I don’t know... maybe come home after PT, get some crappy takeout and watch Nailed It while eating ice cream.”

I look over at Niki who was still scavenging the fridge and notice the calendar stuck to the side.

“Hey Mom, today is December 21st, right? Winter Solstice?”

“Well, I guess it is.”

“You know, Gabe and I got married on the solstice because it’s the longest night of the year. On our first date, he took us stargazing.”

The End

[theninjasheeep]

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

--

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

--

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

[oshbluepacific]

The Brain and The Muscle pt. I

Type: Fluff/Angst-ish

Character: Kim Minseok (College AU! x Reader)

Words Counted: 2k4+

MASTERLIST

I pulled over the car onto what seems to be an available parking space, as I watched the place getting even more packed with college kids. Yes, I’m on my third year, but I’ve never attend to this type of party before. I could see the familiar football star player, raising up his red, plastic cup in the air before he shouted something and everyone joins him.

           “It looks super crowded…” I told Baekhyun who was fixing his hair.

           Baekhyun is my roommate. He’s in the football team (not like I am—I’m not good with sports) and we’re in the same class together. Even though we have our differences—style-wise and socially—but we have that something in common that makes us connect. We talked a lot about our daily life. We go to the same university, study in the same faculty, but it’s almost like we have different lives.

           “Come on, it won’t be so bad, and besides…” He turned to the packed house. I looked at where his eyes were directing, and he was motioning to the girls holding their colorful plastic cups before he could turn back to me with a smug.

           “Maybe you’ll find someone in the crowd that’s girl enough for you.” He jokingly said.

-

I stood there with a blue plastic cup on my hand. Adjusting the glasses that I was wearing, I looked among the crowds and there’s no familiar face anywhere, not even Baekhyun. He suddenly ditched me off before bouncing some place. I let out a sigh before spinning the liquor in my cup.

           I shouldn’t have come to this dump, I could’ve finished that history paper on The Cold War! I mumbled to myself before taking a sip of my drink. I looked around the place, and it seems that everyone knows everybody. And they are having genuine fun. Some of them are laughing. Some of them are even kissing each other’s face off in the corner of the room. But I try not to stare at them or else they’ll think I’m a creep.

           I walked from where I stood and found myself outside in the backyard. It wasn’t as crowded as the inside, but there were still people. Some were in the pool having a night dip, most of them are sitting on the grass chatting up and laughing. I saw an empty bench so I decided to trot my way there and take a seat.

           I let out a sigh, pushing my hair back before I could put my plastic cup aside. I pulled out my phone, deciding to text Baekhyun.

To Baekhyun: where the hell are you? I can’t find you in this place.

But of course, no reply. I looked at the time on my screen and it was still 11.30 PM. I’ve been here for 30 minutes what felt like a decade.

           “Hey, mind if I sit here?” I voice suddenly asked. I turn my head to the source of the voice, and it was a girl, standing holding onto a bowl what looks like filled with snacks and a plastic cup.

           “Uh… yeah, yeah sure.” I answered her as I scoot aside. She smiled and took a seat beside me before setting her cup and bowl between us.

           “Feel free to take it if you want.” She chirped, referring to the bowl of chips. I nodded at her with a small smiled before she could turn her attention to her phone.

           I watched her as she scroll through her social media and I have to admit—she’s beautiful. She was wearing a basketball jersey and a ripped jeans, paired with a pair of black sneakers. Her hair is tied into a messy bun, leaving strands of her hair hanging.

           She turned to me and raised an eyebrow.

           “Staring much?” She asked, snapping me out of my daze.

           “Ah! Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.” I quickly apologized, but she giggled.

           “It’s okay Minseok, I was just teasing.” She smiled, before putting chip into her mouth.

           She knows me?

           “We’re in the same class together.” She said, as if she was reading my mind.

           I nodded my head.

           “I’ve never see you attending to this kind of party before.” She said, shifting her position to me.

           “Well… long story short, my roommate kind of dragged me into this place.” I answered her.        

           “Oh no… don’t tell me he left you hanging here?” She asked, and I just shrugged with a wry smile.

           “Well, your roommate sucks.” She pointed and I burst out laughing.

           “I can’t argue with you there.” I told her and she giggled.

We talked about college a little bit, and I started to enjoy her company here.

           “So why are you sitting here with me then? Did you come alone?” I asked her.

           “Oh, I came here with my boyfriend, but…” She looked down to her cup and shook her head. “I don’t know…” she smiled before looking away towards the people having a swim.

           I turned to where she was looking before looking back at her. She let out a breath.

           “I didn’t feel like going, but he insisted—well, basically forced me to come, and here I am, facing the same faith as you.” She joked, leaning her back. And I smiled.

           “Well, I hope being the ditches in this party is a good thing.” I said, raising my cup to her.

           “So far, it is.” She smiled, crashing her cup with mine lightly before we both to a sip.

20 minutes or so after talking with her, a familiar figure trotted towards us, and it was Baekhyun.

           “Ah, well, I’ve seen you’ve met (Y/N).” He smiled cheekily placing his hands on his hips. “So how is my roomie treating you?” Baekhyung asked.

           “Wait, you’re Baekhyun’s roommate? How do you stand to be in the same room with this crazy?” She asked jokingly and Baekyun let out a laugh.

           “Funny. But I’m not as crazy as you think I am… right Minseok?” Baekyun asked. And I just rolled my eyes, not even bothered to answer his question.

           “You know (Y/N) right? In the same class as you, and she’s on the basketball team.” Baekhyun stated.

           (Y/N) blushed before she could threw a couple of chips at Baekhyun.

           “Pretty self explanatory.” I said with a smile, noting the basketball jersey she was wearing.          

           “She’s the star player in the team! People love her! She’s so good at what she do!” Baekhyun bragged her, which only makes her blush even more.

           “Byun Baekhyun, stop it or else I’m going to throw you into the pool!” She stood up and Baekhyun took a step back.    

           “She’s feisty too.” Baekyun winked at me.

           She sat back down before tucking the strands of hair behind her ear.

           “We’re having a round of truth or dare, any of you guys want to join?” Baekyun asked.

           “Pass.”

           “Pass.” (Y/N) and I said together, causing Baekhyun to creep up a smirk.

           “Lucas is playing, do you really want to pass?” Baekhyun told (Y/N).

           She bit her bottom lip, hesitant on what to decide. “I’ll pass.” She finally decide.

           “Okay.” Baekhyun started to back away before he could turn around and walk back to the house.

           “Baekhyun what time are we leaving?” I asked.

           “Not until I get to kiss Sana!” He answered, raising up his hand.

I let out a grunt as (Y/N) watched me slope down on my seat with a chuckle.

           “That’s going to take centuries.” She added and I sat right up before shifting my position a bit more comfortable.

           “So, Lucas is…” I trailed off.

           “My boyfriend, yes.” She answered, her lips firm shut as after she said it as if it tasted bitter in her mouth when she said he’s her boyfriend.

           “Minseok, have you tried the food here?” She suddenly asked, patting my forearm.

           I shook my head. She stood up, holding onto my hand tugging me.

           “Come on, you must try the bulgogi here, it’s Junmyeon’s mom secret recipe.” She said, and I went with her.

We both walked back into the building and it wasn’t as packed as before because most of them are outside now. She guided me to where the food was, as if she has the blueprint to the place. She took a plate and placed some food on mine, as if I’d finish all of them.

           “You’re very much familiar with this place aren’t you?” I asked her and she just smiled.

           “Us in the basketball team are pretty much close with the football team as well. We hang out with each other, maybe because some of us are interested in any different kinds of sports, and some of the guys from the football team are dating those from the basketball team.”

           “Ah, so it’s almost like a sports-crossed lovers?” I asked and she laughed.

           “If you want it to put it that terms, then, yes, it’s something like that.” She smiled.

           Everytime she smiled at me, I felt this jolt of joy fluttering in my heart. Her smile was so warm and gentle, it’s like I’ve known her my whole life.

           She then started to rub her palm against her biceps.

           “Are you cold? Here you can use mine.” I said quickly taking my flannel off and putting it on her shoulder.

           “Minseok, you didn’t have to though.” She smiled.

           “Yeah well, just take it as if I’m trying to get a good impression out of you.” I winked and he giggled.

           “Oh, is that so?” She raised her eyebrow, a bright smile formed on her lips.

           I nodded my head. “Did I succeed?” I asked.

           Her eyes looked over my shoulder and her smile quickly fades away.

           “What’s wrong?” I asked, I turned around to see where she was looking.

A bunch of football guys were hurling on the couch, so were a group of girls were there too. One of the guys was making out with a brunette, wearing a short red dress, as everyone was cheering them. Even Baekhyun is there.

           I turn back to (Y/N) and her face just shows flat. No emotions. As if everything just became numb for her.

           “Hey, you okay?” I asked her, placing my hand on her.

           “Let’s get out of here.” She suddenly said.

           “What?” I asked, shocked at her decision.

           “Let’s go.” She got up from where we were sitting and walked towards the front door.

           I looked back at the small crowd hurling the sofa before I turn and quickly went after (Y/N).

She stood there on the side of the streets, her back facing the house. I watched her as she raised her hands to her temples before I could trot myself towards her.

           “(Y/N)?” I called, but she quickly to a step further away from me.

           “Minseok, can you drive me home?” She asked, turning to face me.

           I can see her face clear under the street light now. Her eyes were red and teary. I didn’t want to ask any further questions to her because it’s hurting her already.

           “Sure, I’ll text Baekhyun—”            “No wait, I’ll text him.” She then fished her phone out of her pockets as we both walked towards the car. She got into the passenger seat as I got behind the wheel.

           “Baekhyun hasn’t answered yet, but I’ll let him know that you’re taking me home.” She said.

           “Okay…” I answered her softly.

           She placed he phone on her lap before covering her face with her hands. She started sobbing and tearing up, and I just sat there, watch her cry. I didn’t start the engine because I didn’t want to. I didn’t do anything because I don’t know what the hell am I supposed to do?

“I’m sorry, you have to see me like this.” She apologized. “And I’m sorry I got mascara and tears on your flannel.” She tried to laugh, turning her face to me, and I just gave her an empathic smile.

           “Don’t worry about it, and I won’t ask if you’re not comfortable taling about.” I said in a low voice.

           She placed her hand on her lap before she could turn to me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

           “I’ll talk about it when I want to, just not now…” I was surprised by her sudden moves, and I can feel my heart racing as I tried to focus on what I was about to do. I turned the engine to my car on and pulled out from the side of the road.

           She was quiet during the whole trip. She only pointed the direction to her apartment where she lives.

           She got out of the car as rolled the passenger side window as she bent down to give me a warm smile.

           “Thanks for driving me home.” She smiled through her puffy and red eyes.

           “No worries.” I smiled back at her.

           She looked to the building behind her, before biting her bottom lip. “I should probably go.” She said, and I nodded my head.

           “Yeah, take some rest okay? I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.

           “Oh yeah, I forgot that we actually have class tomorrow.” She face-palmed herself before giggling.

           “Okay… bye.” She backed away before she could walk towards the building.

           I watched her as she stepped into the building and looked over her shoulder through the glass door. She smiled at me before she could wave her hand and I waved back at her as I pulled away from the driveway.

           The drive back to the apartment was somehow, so quiet, and yet there was this sense of calm in me. When I pulled up on the apartment parking lot, My phone suddenly rang in my pocket and I fished it before I could answer the phone.

           “Hello?” I answered.

           “Dude, I just read the text from (Y/N)—she went home with you?” Baekhyun’s yelled, over the loud music in the background.

           “Yeah, she said she wanted to go home right away, why?” I asked.

           I can hear Baekhyun sighed but a chuckled followed right after.

           “It’s fine Minseok, no need to worry.”Baekhyun said. “Just look after her okay? I know her well enough to know that she’s in a crazy mental state right now.” Baekhyun suddenly said.

           “Okay…” I answered him.

           “Anyways—can you drive back here and pick me up?”

-

hi, don’t worry, this will have a part II, and it’s in progress only touching it up a little bit so, stay tuned and i hope you like it

[mihidecet]

To Lean on Somebody

Set in a Dream SMP alternate universe where everything from before the festival didn’t happen (I’m not in denial you are ;-;), two friends find a moment of comfort and honesty.

I am begging you, on my knees, to not take this as ship content. PLEASE let us normalize platonic cuddling and being close with your friends without it being sexual I am pleading.

I am but a touch starved dumbass, I hope you enjoy <3

It happens one late evening.

Quackity enters Schlatt's office at around midnight, tired, stressed out from the upcoming meetings, and almost lets all of the documents he's holding fall to the ground in surprise. 

He hadn't expected to find the light still on and for a moment he stares, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, at the ram hybrid still intent on finishing his own reports. And for a moment - right before Schlatt's eyes raise towards him, right before he notices he's not alone in the room anymore - Quackity just sees him. Shoulders tense, hair a mess and way too long, some curls reaching the tip of his nose, the darkness under his eyes as if he's been punched. 

Yellow eyes blink slowly at him. 

"What are you still doing up?" Schlatt asks, monotone betraying nothing of the tiredness his whole body is emanating. 

"I could ask you the same thing." Quackity quips back, moving closer to the table to place down his finished work - Schlatt's eyes soften for a moment, gratefulness evident only to a trained watcher. 

"Are you almost done?" The younger man asks, leaning into the desk to peer at the document still under his president's hand. At Schlatt's positive hum, Quackity simply hums back. 

A thought hits him, a plan subtly forming in his brain as his eyes move from the document to Schlatt's hand as he tucks a stray curl behind his right horn with a huff. 

He ponders for a moment. Meditates on possible outcomes. Prepares for the worst.

"Do you want me to cut your hair?" Quackity's voice asks, out of the blue, the traitorous fool, before he can figure out a way to properly construct his question. 

Schlatt looks up, blinks at him. 

Looks back down at the document, only silence passing between them as Quackity both tenses up and laughs at himself for the silliness of the question. 

"Sure, why not. Shit's getting annoying, anyway."

Quackity discusses with himself the benefits of cutting his friend's hair at one am, and finds no reason why he shouldn't do it. It's not like he's that tired anyway, his brain always takes a while to turn off after he's finished working, and this way he can make sure Schlatt won't change his mind. 

As soon as the man is done with his paperwork, he escorts him to his bathroom, where he has all the things he needs. 

"Are you sure you can cut hair?" Schlatt asks, eyeing suspiciously the scissors and clippers Quackity is taking out of a specific drawer. Quackity just sighs with a smile on his face, waving his worries away. 

"Now, we don't really have a proper place to do it. You can sit on the chair and lean back, or we can use the bathtub." Schlatt turns towards him, a sardonic smile on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"You know, if you wanted to get me naked-"

Quackity raises his index finger towards him.

"I will stab you. I'm giving you enough time to get ready and when I'm back I'm cutting your hair or something else. Up to you."

Schlatt chooses the bathtub. 

Sue him. 

He needs a bath anyway, this is just saving time. Also, there is no way in hell he is bending over backwards to have his head fit into the sink, his back is already fucked up enough. 

For all that he jokes around Quackity, he knows that what they have can live through this situation. They're friends, in a way that honestly baffles Schlatt a bit too much. He doesn't know what he did to deserve somebody that clicks so well with him. Not that he's gonna say that out loud, but-

Maybe he should have just gone to sleep. 

He is tired. But the prospect of a bath - and of freedom from his overly long hair - is too tempting. 

When Quackity enters the bathroom again, he's silent. He makes no note nor quip about Schlatt's decision, he just goes and grabs what he needs and places it down on a chair, moving another one so that he can sit right behind Schlatt. 

Everything is very still and silent around them, which could be weird and awkward but it's not. They're both tired, and there's not much to talk about that they can't talk about when they're both awake. 

Quackity grabs a small plastic bowl and scoops up some of the water in the tub.

"Tilt your head back a bit?" He asks and his voice is so quiet, so soft - it's the voice he uses when he's helping Fundy with his projects, or when he's reviewing Tubbo's blueprints.

Schlatt raises his chin a bit, unsure of how much is required, until Quackity's hand gently rests over his forehead, pressing down just a bit as the man whispers.

"Close your eyes." 

The water runs through his hair once, then a couple of times as Quackity repeats the process until his hair is properly wet - never once does water get in his eyes, even though Schlatt does feel it linger over his forehead, unable to move due to Quackity's hand. 

His brain is tired, and the most he can think of is that it's a nice gesture. 

Then Quackity grabs a bottle of shampoo - which smells oh so nice, like lemons and something spicy that makes him want to smile and reminds him of summer - and starts to lather his hair. 

And oh. 

The way his fingers run through his hair, slowly, picking up stray strands to make sure all of them are getting cleaned. The way the pads of his fingers press gently against his scalp, rubbing small circles at the nape of his neck, then behind his ears. 

The way he traces the edges of his horns, where bone melts with cartilage and skin, before lightly pressing down and rubbing some more foam into it. 

It takes a while, but Quackity's subconscious eventually brings him to much simpler times, and a familiar but long forgotten tune erupts from his heart in the form of a gentle hum. 

Forgetting he should be cutting some hair, his hands move to his friend's shoulders, tense and rigid as if they were made of stone, and he figures that he can allow himself to try and lessen the knots of tension there too. 

About a minute later, he catches himself pressing down on Schlatt's trapezius, huffs out a breath at himself and returns to the main task at hand. 

Washes out the shampoo, then grabs some more and begins his lathering process once more - he just wants to make sure the hair is properly clean.

Meanwhile, Schlatt is in paradise. 

He hadn't realised how much he needed something like this before, but oh does he not want this to end ever. 

He feels relaxed, content in a way he'd forgotten he could be. 

Each and every point of contact that his scalp has with Quackity's fingers are like beacons of calmness, turning his body into putty at an embarrassingly quick speed - his entire being concentrating around this focal points of just touch.

He doesn't realise he's crying until a quiet sob makes his shoulder shake. 

Sudden fear grips at his insides, because oh no, not him, he is not crying because his best friend is washing his hair and treating him with a gentleness and kindness he doesn't deserve-

"Are you cold?" Quackity asks from behind him, the slight edge of worry in his tone, and Schlatt instinctively shakes his head no, realising his mistake as he does. 

There's a perfect chance of saving it.

"A bit." Is what he tries to say, but his voice is thick with the tears he's been crying, it cracks in all the wrong places and it ends with a chocked sob. 

Fuck, he is a mess. 

When all that follows is a stunned silence, Schlatt feels his walls slamming down, shoulders tensing up as he moves away from Quackity.

"Fuck, shit- get out. Get out. Right now."

Nothing, no answer. Not enough venom.

"Get the fuck out!" He yells out, arms wrapped around himself, another sob working its way up his throat but he stomps it down- fights with it for a good second as he waits, too aware of the fact that Quackity is still in the room. 

A moment passes. A shiver runs through his body, despite the room being heated up and the water still being definitely warm.

 There's a sudden point of warmth as Quackity places a hand on his shoulder, slowly, lightly, as if dealing with a wounded animal. 

Schlatt doesn't know what to do with himself. All of his instincts yell at him to fight back, to yell, to hurl insults until whoever is behind him will leave. 

But this is Quackity. His best friend. 

So when Quackity pulls him back, gently, he lets himself be brought back. Back, until his back is against something soft - Quackity's sweater, which has got to now sport a wet and soapy patch on the front. 

Still, his friend doesn't seem to mind. 

"I've got you" he whispers, and his words are like the final dent in the dam of his emotional walls. 

One hand moving to grip at Quackity's arm, Schlatt almost doubles with the strength of his next sob, a gut wrenching sound that leaves his throat raw and heart weeping. And he cries. 

All the stresses, fears, doubts, all the stuff that had been piling onto his mind just come crashing down - and he would have toppled with it, if it hadn't been for Quackity's firm but kind grip on his shoulder steadying him. 

And he sobs, lets himself cry - because at that point, who even cares? Once he would have shrugged, shaken his head dismissively: nobody cares. 

But the thing is, Quackity cares. 

Quackity, with his bright smile and infectious laughter, with his gentle touches and firm hugs. 

A solid anchor in the tempest of emotions he is finding himself stuck into. 

Quackity holds him, free of judgement, lets him cry his heart out and then more.

And when things calm down, he picks up his hummed tune - a lullaby of sorts. 

Between one sniffle and the other, Quackity rinses his hair out. Starts cutting his hair, brings it back to a respectable length. 

Spends too much time carding his fingers through the strands, then takes out a hair mask and spens even more time massaging it into his scalp. 

There are a couple of times when exhaustion - physical and emotional almost make him fall asleep in the water, but he stays awake, if anything to not miss a single moment of the experience.

And when Quackity whispers to him to turn towards him, they both have red rimmed eyes. Neither makes a comment on that. 

Schlatt raises his hands from the water, shakes out some excess droplets, and figures it's the least he can do as he places both palms on his friend's cheeks and wipes away the couple stray tears he finds there. 

Quackity smiles softly, ever so softly, and leans into the touch, eyes briefly closing. 

"Thank you, mi amor." Schlatt croaks, wincing a little at how weird his voice sounds after crying for so long. 

Quackity huff out, eyes crinkling with humour; when he answers, his tone is so thick with fondness it makes Schlatt melt.

"You're a dumbass." 

Despite it all, Schlatt finds it in himself to smile cheekily, hands coming to rest at his sides as Quackity goes back to working.

He lets him do his thing, not wanting to disturb the process. It would be rude to do so. 

When Quackity places his scissors back down, it feels like the moment is ending, and yet his fingers go back to his face once more. 

Gently tracing his horns, thumbs resting on the side of his temples as he rubs circles with the rest of his fingers on his scalp. 

Then, moving his palms to rest on the sides of his head.

Schlatt, who'd been keeping his eyes closed, opens them right on time to find himself staring at Quackity's chin. A split second later, lips press against his forehead, fingers still rubbing circles through his hair. 

A sudden rush of emotions overcomes him, the tenderness almost too much, and his eyes water again as he grips at Quackity's arm like a lifeline, holding on through the onslaught of feelings that hit him like a shockwave. 

Quackity lingers, and whatever he is trying to convey Schlatt feels. He understands. He squeezes his eyes and squeezes Quackity's arm, hoping, needing his friend to understand that yes, he knows, he understands, he feels the same.

And when Quackity leans back, eyes shining, a bittersweet smile on his face, Schlatt can't help but chuckle wetly. 

"I'm going to wait outside, alright? I don't want you to get cold. Let me know what you think of the cut, alright?" Quackity says after a moment, then stands up and leaves, gently closing the door behind him. 

He understands, it's all a bit overwhelming. 

What's important is the fact that they understood each other. 

Schlatt raises from the water, quickly drying himself up - his muscles ache from staying in the same position for too long, and his heart aches for a whole another reason, but he feels better than he's felt in a long while. 

He shoots a look in the mirror: his hair isn't getting into his eyes anymore, and it looks good. The length is enough for his hair to actually start to curl up at the bottom, and once it'll be dry he assumes it's going to feel very soft, due to all the care it went into it - and products, but still. 

He fixes his clean shirt, smoothing away inexistent dust, and ignores how puffy his eyes look. 

That was one hell of a haircut. 

[flickeringart]

Existence

Life is undoubtedly a setup. It’s obvious if one looks at it from an astrological perspective. One is born and destined to play out the patterns dictated by the natal chart, one can’t separate the self from the dynamic energies represented by the planets or the characteristics represented by the signs. They are one’s primary blueprint so to speak, with inbuilt challenges and blessings. One goes through different phases where certain natal planets are triggered and affected and one enters into relationship with other people who’s natal planets causes awareness of aspects of ourselves. It’s thrilling and exciting to dig into the symbolism and psychology of all of it, but it’s also a bit uncomfortable – because it reflect things so accurately and it maps things out so clearly – even the confusing and diffuse dimensions of experience. It appears to explain certain things but it really doesn’t, it merely reflects what is going on and nothing more. It can be used as a tool for increased awareness about things that aren’t spelled out in concrete terms in one’s life, or to put it more accurately, is not noticed even though it’s spelled out clearly enough. What I find is most valuable is to increase my understanding of myself and people, to be able to see what they’re striving for, what they value, what they need and how they communicate. But also what their weakness and defenses are, what wounds them or how they assert their will. It makes me feel safer, to know that everyone is patterned differently and it’s just the way things are. It makes me more ok with the badness and the goodness and all the in between – in myself and in the world. It helps me suspend judgement.

Astrology is so rich and complex and as already stated, a gold mine for anyone that’s interested in the exploration of existence. However, I don’t think astrology or existence should be taken too seriously. Planets are like deities and will behave in their particular fashion. They are like empty vessels with a certain purpose. They’re not self-creating, they are only expressing energy in the way they’re designed to. They’re all separate agents and belong to the thought system of separation, to the part of the mind that is anti-unity. Even Neptune, the planet of return to ”universal bliss” is not a symbol of true reality. All planetary forces and symbols are anti-life as they are separate components playing parts that are designed to not go beyond their specific function. For example, Mars’ function is to assert, to radiate potency, to promote direction and movement. There’s nothing that Mars can do that will make him different than he is. His function is to fight and face resistance and he will go no where beyond that state. To use another example, Jupiter’s function is to bring energy and life, to expand, to explore and stimulate excitement. Jupiter is on a continuous high of ”what’s next?” and won’t ever arrive beyond that state. In a sense, one could say that planetary energies are dead principles with no active creative factor other than their inbuilt complex patterning. It’s like this with everything in existence I imagine, everything seems to be creative, but really it’s just a complex programming that is categorized as ”creative”. Humans are designed to have an element of mystery and unpredictability as is demonstrated by Neptune and Uranus in our charts – however it’s the planets’ fixed function to generate the experience of inspiration or insight. There’s no genuine creativity at work stemming from the divine – it’s all just a part of the game.

I picture existence to be a bit like Plato’s cave metaphor. Shadows made by puppets should not be taken for reality. The puppets in my meaning would be the thought system that is the foundation for separation – the shadows would be the various forms in our world of separation. The thought system itself is not reality, it’s a defense against it. Images of reality are not reality but a replicas – imitations that have no real resemblance to life, yet is taken for life in the mind’s confusion. The fake reality is not evil per se – it’s nothing when the mind is returned to it’s natural state, it’s nothing in reality. But, when the mind is deeply invested in the shadows on the wall, caused by a thought system that is a defense against the truth, there will be pain and suffering – and there will be evil. In reality, freedom that has no opposite is all abiding. In this world of shadows, freedom is the distance in time and space from imprisonment, which is not real freedom. Existence is an attack and a denial of truth. Distance from threat means safety here. Distance from war means peace. Yet, threat and war is the constant actuality and it can’t be transcended. Or can it? I ask because some people actually try and some claim to have succeeded. Then there’s the pressing philosophical question of who is trying to transcend the world? Who or what is the self that sets out on such a mission? Is the self even real? One starts to go deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole...

People like to come up with all sorts of solutions to existential pain. By existential pain, I mean the overall setup of life as we perceive it through separation and contradiction. Some try to deny that there’s any problem with the way things are. They take an attitude of radical acceptance and seek to embrace the good with the bad, seeing the necessity in both polarities. This is a coping mechanism that establishes illusion as reality and upon facing the cognitive dissonance of it, the person tries to glamorize it to live somewhat happily in a world of pain. Some try to numb their senses, some try to actively escape or compartmentalize the good and the bad in order to not be overwhelmed by the gloom and doom of it all. Some try to project the picture of perfection into the future, keeping hope alive but never really arriving at a place of completeness. There are millions of ways to cope and keep defenses against reality intact under the guise of wanting freedom. In my experience, nothing that is attempted to undo something that one think is real ever works because the mind can’t destroy something it depends on for security. If one has a hard time deeming this world evil, it’s because one thinks that certain bits and pieces are bright and good. Not many are willing to paint their precious world black, but they fail to see that it is already black – unforgivingly pitch black.

Through complete realization of this, there’s real peace. I’m not sure a realization of truth can be pursued because it can appear in a instance and be gone the next. The process of becoming is futile, because there’s only darkness and light, no stages in progression from dark to light. There’s nothing that can be gained in darkness that will lead to the light. The progression that is perceived to be made over time is an illusion, a setup of events from start to finish that mean nothing in reality. Yet, I’m sure that most people experience instances of completeness. In fact, all instances are complete, but as time and space seems to enter, salvation is temporarily cancelled out and one is thrown back into existence. It’s rediscovered again, when suspension of judgement takes place spontaneously for some curious reason. We’ll all release and be released in time, when time is seen to not be needed anymore.

[lightneverfades]

Frostiron AU (WandaVision) -  Episode 9

Here’s a few more of the WandaVision Frostiron AU I made! 

Storyline: (Contains Spoilers)

< Story is set in an alternate universe set after Thanos is defeated >

Loki is alive, lives through the events of End Game but loses Tony in the fight when Tony sacrifices himself to use the Infinity Stones. Loki can’t cope with what’s happened and resurrects Tony from the dead and creates an alternate reality where they are in a sitcom, living as a happy couple... to shut out the real world.

Note: Fic is based on previous posts found here! Below scene is based on the end credits in WandaVision! ;) I also changed the clothes he’s wearing just a little bit, to match how Wanda changed her outfit (Loki’s is already so epic, so I decided I’ll just make it a bit different! :P)

Year 2023 Fall

The sun had set by the time Loki had stepped foot back into the little cabin he’d spent with Tony by the lakeside, hidden away from prying eyes by a glamour so that the house stayed invisible to the normal eye.

It was still left the way it was - all of their stuff was littered about like tokens of a memory past before the events of the battle with Thanos. Loki hadn’t touched them - he didn’t feel it was necessary to do so. A shadow clung to each corner even as Loki turned the lights on, the house feeling hollow and empty without the presence of Tony Stark.

Loki took a heavy step further into their former home, face dry now of tears. His clothes shimmered and changed, rippling for a moment before settling back to cloth himself in a simple emerald t-shirt that Tony used to tease him in (“You look like a leprechaun, babe! Hah!”) and a dark pair of fitted long pants.

Slowly, he moved into the kitchen where more memories greeted Loki.

Framed and propped up near the kitchen sink among all the appliances and tableware was a photo of Tony and Loki laughing together, arms wrapped halfway around each other. Someone had taken the photo just after they had come back from a fight; he could see the small cuts and bruises on Tony’s cheek, his hair all scruffy and mussed. But despite the injuries, his face never looked more alive than he was in that moment. Beside him, Loki’s eyes were bright with mirth.

Loki took it in his hands, brushing off the dust that had settled over it and stared, feeling his breath and heart beating steadily. It took a huge effort for him not to fall apart again and regret his decision to let everything go…

But I haven’t let you go, Stark… Not yet. Not while I still live and breath. The Avengers… Thor… The team will be looking for me now, after what I have done. And I… I may not be shown the same mercy they had done once, not anymore… Loki thought, holding the photo tightly to him, so much so that he heard a ‘clink’ and found the glass cover of the photo frame break. He looked at it in surprise, his strength having coming through unexpectedly.

Loki pulled the photo out of the frame and set the remnants of it aside. Pressing the photo to his chest, as if he were embracing an invisible figure he could not touch, he walked down to the bottom floor of the cabin, where Tony occasionally worked on various updates on his Iron Man suits. Unlike the homey feel of the cabin upstairs, Tony’s workshop had a similar stylistic design of the Avengers tower, covered in concrete, steel and glass.

Typing in the passcode easily (“L O K I”), the god stepped into the familiar work station and smiled a little at how utterly messy the place looked. Like the other items above him, Loki had left it the way it was. Most of the tools were scattered about, along with blueprints mapping out equations of the time travel machine Tony had been working on day and night before he succeeded in completing it. Empty coffee cups stained the forms, rims of it on the paper, leaving its mark.

Loki closed his eyes and felt the thrum of massive energy shifting through him, alive and ever present. Some of his magical essence moved along with that of the other source of magic that he’d taken from Agatha. The witch’s magic was vibrant with energy but it was filled with darkness and it rebelled against its new master, crackling within him.

With a breath, Loki summoned the book of dark magic, the Darkhold, in front of him. It floated, as if it had a life of its own. The ancient volume shimmered with a power, having been passed on from one powerful being to another. Carrying an orange hue, its magic vibrated, as if being exposed to open air was causing it to tremble.

“Open”, Loki said in the ancient tongue, and it did as it was commanded, peeling back its covers. It seemed to understand what Loki desired, because the book flipped through until it stopped abruptly at a page that was etched with words of the old script of the Hell Dimension. Having the ability of the Allspeak came with perks, as Loki was able to decipher the title page.

Multiple universes… Loki read and this time, he reached out to grip the book with his free hand. Almost immediately, his illusions vanished, his appearance shifting from his plain Midgardian appearance into armor that he’d worn when he’d faced Agatha in his true self.

Gold armor coated him, the long green cape floating around him defying gravity, the horns of his half helmet glittering as it took form and weighed over his head. In the center of his helmet, however, a different shape took the place of its usual ‘V’ shape. Instead, embedded within the gold was a piece of the arc reactor that Tony had given him, a part of Tony’s creations pulsing brightly in cerulean blue with him.

The workshop darkened abruptly and the only source of light now came from Loki and the Darkhold. The words from the book seemed to float upwards and gleam like the edge of a knife, inviting Loki further. The photo Loki gripped tightly in his other hand vanished, disappearing back for safekeeping. Transfixed, Loki could not turn away from the many possibilities it held. Emerald green light surrounded him as he floated upwards and sat in mid-air, raising the book in front of him.

Another universe… perhaps in this one, I can find Tony. The sun can shine on us again, Loki thought, pushing away the small voice that advised against him. After all, he had nothing more to lose. This universe was empty… He had no purpose, not anymore. Loki Laufeyson in this universe was a fugitive, a villain once more. If he could escape all this and find Tony in another universe, then perhaps… then he could finally become whole once again. All he needed now was find the lost piece so he could feel alive again.

Loki, I need you-!

The urgent scream that echoed out of nowhere caught Loki off guard and he jerked, his head whirling to look around him and finding nothing but the darkly lit workshop, empty and silent.

“Tony?” Loki choked out the words, eyes widening in disbelief. He look down at the Darkhold, narrowing his eyes. What had just happened?

“Are you playing tricks with me?” Loki accused and the book did nothing but continue to float, relaying the details of multiple universes in front of him and how to travel to them. Loki’s eyes trailed over it, but his heart was pounding. He couldn’t focus. How could he have heard Tony, when he had just parted with the real one? Was he merely wishing him back? Is that why he heard him?

Loki!

This time Tony’s cry for help was so clear, Loki knew he could not have imagined it. The realization that he had heard that familiar voice for real warmed him, but it was only temporary, for the pain and desperation ebbed in Tony’s voice hurt him like nothing else.

“Wait for me, Stark…” Loki whispered, his eyes burning bright. Within his iris, the magic swarmed to the surface and colored his orbs fully. But anyone who looked closely would have noticed flecks of dark magic starting to enclose around the green, shading the light.

“I am coming.”

[littlesliceofmarvel]

manipulating a god | chpt.six

Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood, and gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: I AM FINALLY UNSHADOWBANNED!!!!!! OH MY GOODNESSS. I have been shadowbanned since MARCH.MARRRCCHHH. it’s a good day. (also yes i reuploaded this now that i am no longer invisible.) MY INBOX IS OPEN ONCE MORE AS WELL. (gif not mine)

series masterlist

-

Loki’s piercing gaze never left yours as you tried to think of the proper questions to ask him that wouldn’t obviously show how much you knew about him. Loki wasn’t dumb, he knows damn well why you’re doing this, but if you played my cards right you could throw him off enough to glimpse through and get some information. After all, that’s all you really wanted from him. The topic of the Infinity Stones has to be brought up by him.

You could ask about his childhood, or about his favourite food, or even about which character from Harry Potter he liked best. (We all know it’s Draco because Loki’s a Slytherin.)

“Alright,” you crossed your arms and met his stare, trying to match his intensity, “Favourite colour?”

Loki scoffed, “Awfully basic question to start off with. Green.”

“Hard to tell,” you mumbled, eyeing every bit of green clothing on his body, “Your turn.”

He thought deeply, eyes wandering around the room as if the perfect question was hidden around here somewhere. You had become slightly nervous, Loki seemed like the kind of person to intentionally rip you apart from the inside out, so his questions were bound to hold weight. And after you put him in his place and stormed off last time, no doubt he held a bit of hostility towards you.

“I’ve got it,” he spoke up after a few long moments of silence, “What’s your biggest psychological fear?”

You felt your face drop, thinking about all the irrational fears in your mind. You knew the answer to this immediately — it was something you worried about dealing with on a daily basis. There was no harm in answering the truth, so you answered him honestly.

“Having to watch someone I care about die and not being able to do anything about it.”

Loki smirked, nodding in approval of your answer despite the change of tone in your voice, “Fair.”

You thought back to the countless occasions where you’d been forced to watch Tony suffer and bleed out without being able to help. It crushed your heart into tiny pieces, but in the long run, it was what made you so determined to be a part of the Avengers. With this job, you were able to help as many people as possible. It was going to change your life, you were nearly certain of this.

“My turn,” you spoke up, “What’s the best childhood memory you have?”

Loki’s smirk faltered and his playful expression shifted, “Good childhood memory? I’m afraid that doesn’t exist.”

Bingo.

You eaned forward in you chair with furrowed eyebrows, “I call your bluff. Everyone’s gotta have a good memory from their childhood, no matter how messed up it was. Didn’t you ever go to like, Asgard Disneyland or something?” You knew you were striking a nerve with the way his upper lip twitched, his gaze suddenly growing distant.

“My childhood is really none of your concern. And it wasn’t enjoyable in the slightest, so drop it.” If it wasn’t for the deadly look he was shooting your way, you would have pressed the subject more.

You nodded your head slowly and raised your hands in surrender, deciding to take the high road and be gentle, “Alright, my bad. I’ll ask a different question. What’s something that’s on your bucket list that you haven’t done yet?”

"That... wasn’t a question I was expecting. I’m over a thousand years old, I’ve done a lot,” he looked down to his hands, “But... world domination, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Something meaningful, Loki.”

He seemed deep in thought, looking back and forth between his left and right hand as if the answers were scribbled deep into his skin. He squinted slightly before looking back at you, a sudden amused glint in his eyes.

“I’d like to see the universe, I guess,” he shrugged, eyes leaving yours and peering around the room, “I at least have the chance to see more than you do.”

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, “We’re not all godly galactic beings, y’know.”

As he opened his mouth to speak, a loud crash came from outside the door to the room. You stood up, already on high alert, completely forgetting that you were in a room with the bad guy. You raised your finger to your lips, shushing Loki. Why you did it, you have no idea. But you figured if you were going to crack him, might as well show him you’re trying to protect him too.

With ragged breathing, you stood behind the wall, hand on the gun you had hidden in your waistband. Touching the gun still felt foreign to you, but you brushed the uneasiness aside and tried to contact someone.

“Fury, what was that?” you pressed the communications button on the screen in front of you, “Everything alright?”

As if on cue, the door whisked open and Tony stood tall, hands behind his back and a scowl on his face. He looked from Loki to you, his intense gaze softening a tad.

“What the hell was that?” you breathed a sigh of relief, glad that there was no enemy barging in. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a fight. You had had enough of those for a lifetime.

“I dropped my coffee,” Tony turned around and pointed at the ground, where indeed, a broken mug was scattered, the dark coffee beginning to spread across the floor.

“You — what? The crash was so loud!” you put your gun back in your waistband, baffled, “Why are you being so ominous? What’s wrong?” Something about the spilled coffee and the way he was standing seemed odd, even you couldn’t figure out what he was getting at.

“I need to talk to you,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and began leading you out of the room, “Privately.”

“It was a lovely chat, Y/N,” Loki’s voice called to you as you exited the room, “Until next time.”

You turned back to look at him, catching his eyes as the door slammed shut. Tony placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you up against the wall, leaning in close so no one could hear.

“Fury’s gonna use the sceptre to make weapons,” he said quietly, pulling away to gauge your reaction. You stared blankly at him, thinking over what he could mean.

“Like, our Fury? Using the Tesseract?” you asked, “No way. He’s not that advanced.”

Tony hushed you once a group of Shield agents rounded the corner, but as they moved out of sight, he moved you futher along the corridor, “I hacked into their files.”

“You what?”

Slightly outraged, you raised your voice, only to be silenced by the clamping of Tony’s hand over your mouth, “Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal. I hack into loads of stuff.”

You gaped at him, eyes blinking rapidly as you took in his words, “That doesn’t make it okay. But, why would Fury use the Tesseract? Doesn’t it practically have a mind of its own?”

Tony nodded apprehensively, “We think so. Which is why I think we need to confront him.”

You waved your hands rapidly, “Oh, hell no. I am not getting involved in this.”

Fury was someone you had admired — and feared, of course — but he was always someone you knew not to mess with. He had his secrets, he had his lies, and he knew how to mess with someone’s mind more than anyone you had ever met up until this mission. You were sure that if he had decided to use the Tesseract, he probably would have told you guys. And if he didn’t, there was a reasonable reason.

“Too late, you got involved when you guilt tripped me into joining the mission,” Tony shrugged, giving you a sarcastic grin, “So, come along now.”

Before you could turn away, he gripped your shoulder and brought you along with him. He manuevered you through the endless corridors, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. You had never been to his and Banner’s lab, but you figured that was probably where he was taking you.

And you stood corrected.

Standing awkwardly in the center of the lab, surrounded by heavy machinery and flickering computers, Bruce Banner sent you a small wave.

“Y/N,” he greeted, “I guess Tony explained everything to you, huh?”

You nodded, massaging your shoulder gently now that Tony’s aggressive grip was gone, “Yeah, and I gotta say, still sounds like a far fetched theory, guys.”

Bruce sighed, “I thought so too. But look here.”

He pointed to a computer screen on his right, so you slowly approached, eyes widening as you took in what was on the screen. It was a blueprint for a weapon, a massive gun that had the power to take down whatever was in its path. And right at the centre, glowing bright blue, was unmistakably the Tesseract.

“No fucking way,” you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. So it was true. Fury was going to use the intergalactic power of an other-worldly object to power his own Shield weapons.

“Told ya,” Tony smirked, leaning against the counter behind him and taking a pack of dried fruits out of his back pocket, “Now do you agree we need to talk to him?”

“Fine,” you gave in, lifting your hand to rub between your brow. All of the information was beginning to give you a headache.

You snatched the dried fruit bag from Tony and grabbed a handful, your stomach suddenly feeling quite empty. You hadn’t expected Fury to keep such a dangerous secret from you all — after all, it seemed like you were all on the same page. Get rid of the Tesseract and Loki.

“Look, I’ll go find out where the Tesseract is, and we’ll confront Fury, okay?” you looked between the two, “Promise me you won’t go piss him off before we have the proper information.”

The two begrudgingly agreed, so you decided it was a good enough answer for you. Grabbing another handful of food, you turned to face them, giving them the ‘I’m watching you’ stare and leaving the room.

You continued your way back down the familiar hallways, turning left and then right, stopping once again in front of the door that was hiding Loki. He was probably the only person that knew where the Tesseract was, which only made this so much more important.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your finger print on the scanner and entered the room again. Although, you weren’t met with the same playful Loki that you had been playing twenty questions with before. He looked enraged, pacing around the cell with his arms crossed.

His eyes snapped up to you once you entered the room, door shutting loudly behind you, “I’m back.”

“I’ve noticed,” he approached the glass, the anger still etched into his pale face, “What do you want now?”

“Oh, snappy,” you raised an eyebrow, wondering why the change in his tone, “I’ve been gone not ten minutes. Why the change in tone?”

“I thought maybe I could see you as a friend,” he spoke slowly, continuing to pace in circles around the cell, “But what is it you want?”

“Who says I want anything?” you crossed your arms, seating yourself on the same chair you were using before, “I’m only a part of this to save my brother, make a name for myself. Help people the way I know best.”

“You think you can do anything? You petty, puny human? What gift do you have?” he motioned his hands at you, “You sit here thinking you can get to me, but you can’t. You think I don’t recognize mind games when they’re aimed at me?”

Still unsure why he was being so snappy, you raised your eyebrow and tilted your head, “If I don’t have a gift, why do you assume I’m playing mind games?”

“You’re pathetic,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard you, “Coming here and speaking to me like we’re equals. Like you’re better than me. You’re not. You’re a sad excuse for a life, you’ve got what’s coming to you. Thinking you can... what? Save your brother? You can’t save him. You can’t even save yourself. You won’t be spared because you know my favorite colour.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed drastically, and if it weren’t for the violent thumping of your heart, you’d think this wasn’t real. But it was. He was real. He was speaking to you, belittling you in every way you had ever been insecure.

You stared blankly, registering his words and the bitter taste they left in your mouth. Had they been his plan? To hurt you? If it was, you didn’t want to let him win, to give in, but it was hard to act like you weren’t affected.

“You’re a monster,” you blinked, trying to brush off the sting in your eyes and the itchy feeling in your throat. If you were to be emotional in front of him, he’d win fair and square.

“No, no,” he smirked, “You guys brought the monster.”

At first, you figured he was talking about himself. How you guys had brought him here, caged him, and riled him up to the point where he would unleash his fury on all of you. But as you stared into his smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes, you knew you were wrong.

He was talking about another monster. And what monster could he use to his advantage while being away from his alien crew?

Banner.

“So,” you stood up quickly, emotions gone as the realization flooded over you, “Banner. That’s your play.”

He cocked his head to the side, a confused expression taking over his face, “What?”

You approached the glass, fed up and beyond angry, “Well, thanks for opening up. It was greatly appreciated. This was a very informative little session. I’ll see you next time!”

You rushed to the door, ignoring the way he called out your name, and left the room hastily. Your head was swimming, body feeling suddenly very numb. There was no way this was going to end well. If Loki managed to get into Banner’s head, the Hulk would cause incredible damage. Not only on the ship, but to the people aboard.

You had to go find Bruce.

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[slippinmickeys]

Currahee

Her bathroom smells of verbena and linen with a very slight hint of mildew underlying all, about which she cannot bring herself to care. She used to light candles and listen to music when she bathed, but those days are past. The tub thunders to full behind her, adding a tidal brine to the air.

Mulder’s bathroom smells like toothpaste and Pert, and has a red rubber duckie with devil horns perched on the back of the toilet. She looks at it whenever she is in there, wonders if it ever floats with him in the tub. She has considered getting him an angelic duckie to balance the space, to tip the scales of his life a bit more towards the light.  

Earlier in the day, she had stumbled while writing the word “success” in a report. No matter how many times spell check ran clean, the word did not look right on the screen. She’s reminded of that off-putting moment as she stares at her own reflection, dark smudges under her eyes and her fingers bare, loneliness writ large.

The temperature of the water in the tub behind her is almost volcanic, a light steam rising from it in the cool air of the bathroom. She gives herself one more look in the mirror before she steps into it.  

She knows she is pretty, she isn’t so humble that she won’t admit it. But she is also short, dissentient—a redheaded iconoclast in a world populated by leggy brunettes easily impressed by Mulder’s handsome nous. She’s been making a fool of herself over him for years and she isn’t even his type.

She sinks her head under the water of the bath in fit of petulant ennui.

She wonders if she appears as spinsterish as she feels, if the checkout clerk views her meager dinner-for-one groceries and thinks how sad. Mulder may be ever present in every other stratum of her life, but her cupboards are all Dana Scully; slight, a little wanting, there but for her.

She shaves her legs with precision and care--as she approaches all things--but wonders what for, exactly. It is March, the month after her birth, and still pretty cold--she will likely not be wearing skirts. She supposes she shaves for herself.

After 30 minutes, the water begins to cool, the wind outside the bathroom window pushing branches into it, a dull clawing sound in the humid air. There is a spot of shaving foam drifting dreamily along the surface of the water and it finally glides into the top of her knee, clinging there.

Sometimes she thinks of her heart as a Christmas tree. At one point it had been bright, cheerful, full of hope and spirit. But time had worn it down, turned it brittle. She was afraid if she were to let someone touch it, it would fall to pieces in their hands.

She finally drains the bath and steps out, feeling slippery and oversaturated. Her bones feel like they weigh twice what they did when she got in.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He thinks of the gold-plated records on Voyager, afield in the endless vacuum of space, a blueprint of life on earth. It passed beyond the orbit of Pluto in 1990. It will be 40,000 years before it even approaches another planetary system. It is the culmination of humanity, and no bigger than a small car.

If you packed everything that mattered from his life into a vessel, it would be five feet and two inches of clomping skepticism, with a face that could send men to war and a sheath of carrot hair.

She wielded knives that sliced flesh from bone and dipped her head when she received a compliment. He’d long ago memorized the way her lips looked when she said his name.

As if the universe were listening to his thoughts, came, “Mulder.”

He shook his head from where he stood in the doorway of the morgue, and looked to her.

She pulled her mask down off her face and removed her protective goggles. She looked tired, worn out. She shook her head at him.

“Nothing,” she said, “absolutely no trace evidence whatsoever.”

He believed her. If there had been anything there, she would have found it.

He moved into the room and stood next to her, looking at the body, neatly sewn back up; her sutures straight and tidy--one last act of respect she could pay the dead.

He sighed, leaned on the cold examination table and then thought better of it, absently wiping his hands on the outside of his coat. She made a move to go around him.

“Excuse me,” she said, not impatiently, and he tried to get out of the way but bumped into her when she passed.

Mulder felt like a giant next to her, with his clomping feet and hulking frame. He was all elbows and knees and felt like he was taking up all the oxygen in the room.

A clutch of something like guilt squeezed his heart. Like sorrow.

You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your partner. She was out of bounds, forbidden fruit, impermissible. She wasn’t supposed to become so big a part of your life that you needed her like air.

Scully was scrupulous, a rule-follower—not like Mulder, the rebel in the basement. She always went the speed limit and picked up litter. She’d pulled his ass out of the fire more times than he could count. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your partner, and Scully always followed the rules.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, and she nodded, snapped off the latex.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Something compelled her out into the world that evening after she’d gotten home and showered the morgue off of her.

Once out of her front door, she was hit with the sweet smell of spring--daffodils coming to life in window boxes, chattering squirrels peeking out of trees. She felt a call to the river.

Georgetown didn’t have a Metro stop, so she got in her car, let it pull her toward the Potomac. Once across, she was in Virginia, and it was enough to know that he was there, too.

Past National Airport, she pulled into a parking lot filled with trucks and SUVs attached to empty boat trailers. There were sailboats bobbing in the inlet, people jogging, pushing strollers, rollerblading down the Mount Vernon trail. She joined them and walked and walked.

She found herself in Alexandria and let the pull of him carry her into the city. She stopped for dinner and a glass of wine on Duke Street, and she allowed herself to relax, sink into the chair, watch the people walking past just to see them--something she had not done in years. She saw a woman who looked like Melissa and remembered why.

She thought of her sister; of this world, but not in it, living on only in memory, in the hint of perfume on an old sweater, in the auburn curls of a stranger walking by.

After dinner, she went looking for quiet and found it in a cemetery nearby, some of the graves there older than the country itself. She sat on a bench as the sun went down. Despite the dusk, all around her, the city was coming to life. DC was shaking off its torpor and she felt like she was coming out of hibernation, herself. There was a moment where she thought of all the people who have ever lived—and died—were ever underfoot. The space above the ground is for the living, and she needed to start doing more of it.

She turned toward Hegal Place.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He was thinking about her, as he laid on his couch, unable to sleep. He was usually thinking about her.

A quick one-two knock came at his door, and when he opened it,  she was there, as if thought could call a person across space and time.

“Scully,” he said with surprise, and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

“It’s late,” she said, as if she wasn’t the one that walked all the way to his apartment at 11:00pm.

“Come in,” he said, again.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She ducked under his arm, into the dark enclave of his apartment. It smelled like leather and fish tank and him.

She plopped on the couch, kicked off her shoes. The leather was still warm from his body heat.

“Everything all right?” he asked, lowering himself onto the other end of the couch.

She gave him a long look, considering.

“I don’t know,” she said, “is it?”

He stayed quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Mulder, are you happy?” she asked him.

He raised a shoulder. “Sure,” he said.

“I believe you’re content,” she said, “but are you happy?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

He sighed, leaned back. She knew he took it as a personal affront.

“You want out,” he said.

“No,” she said, “that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“What are you saying?”

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t even sure if she knew.

“I want… “ she started, looked at him, “I want more than a career. I want to live.”

She looked to his hands in his lap, at the finger the terrorists broke, his left pinkie, noticed how the knuckles in it were bigger and knobbier with calcified healing. Right next to his ring finger, she thought.

“Is that… do you…” he struggled, but at least he was trying to understand, she thought. “Does that mean you want to go skydiving or something?”

Her head fell back against the back of the couch. Why were they like this?

“I want a life, Mulder,” she said, “I want someone to come home to.”

“I understand,” he said, and she saw something pass over his face. “I want that for you, too.”

To hell with it.

“For God’s sake, Mulder, I want you.”

Contrary to her every expectation, Mulder stood from the couch and walked out of the room without a word.

Oddly, it didn’t bother or scare her. She wondered if he were trying to compose himself so he could let her down gently? Either way, she was no longer afraid.

After about a minute, she stood and went to look for him. He was not in the kitchen, nor his bedroom.

“Scully,” her name from behind her, close behind her, startled her, awoke something low in her belly. His whisper sounded like the night.

“Mulder,” she said, sharp and quick, and she was about to turn toward him when he stopped her--stepped right into her, his chest into her back. She could feel his breath puffing into her hair.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He tumbled into his bathroom and drew a deep breath. He tried to think of a way to give her an out. Deep down, he knew that a part of him was convinced that his love was a weapon that could only hurt people, but he is selfish and so far he has always been able to save her.

If she wanted him--wanted this, he was powerless to deny her.

She was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, doubtless looking for where he’d disappeared to. He approached her on silent feet. Whispered her name.

He startled her, he could tell, so he stepped up close, could feel her sharp intake of breath. After a moment, she turned to him, but didn’t step back. She looked up, a question in her eyes.

“Do you know the story of the 101st Airborne?” his voice was less than a whisper.

She quirked a grin. He knew she would.

He reached out and grabbed her face with both hands, ran his lips over hers, softer than butterfly wings. Rested his forehead against hers.

“Geronimo,” he said.

She gave a small laugh and he thought he could hear the shadow of relief in it.

Her hair shone like an old penny in the dusky glow of the street lamps outside his window.

She nodded at him, he nodded back.

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his face until his lips met hers and pressed into them. She pressed back. Give, take. Everything they had ever been to each other and everything they ever would.

Geronimo.

[supergoodwill]

Co w duszy gra Online Cda Zalukaj  Chomikuj

Movie Co w duszy gra online proves the theory that all the studio's films take place in an interconnecteduniverse.I'll also show you how Soul explains the Toy Story movies, where the Incredibles get theirpowers, and the origins of the magical doorways in Monsters Inc and Brave.Plus I'll explain how the new film fits in with Inside Out and Coco.

Of course, there'll be some spoilers, so take care.Jon Negroni first introduced the idea of a single Pixar timeline, and it's in Soul'sThe Hall of Everything where we can find especially compelling evidence to confirm Negroni's theory.The hall is overflowing with specific objects and locations which often recur in Pixar'sfilms, from the iconic Pizza Planet truck to the blimp from Up, and even the weirdlyshaped rock, called Wille's Butte from the Cars movies.And that's a huge pointer that the films exist in the same universe.But Soul goes even further than this, because even though the film appears to be set roughlyin the present day, which I'm basing on the look and feel of New York City and the cellphoneJoe uses, the Hall of Everything even has objects fromthe future such as the Axiom from Wall-E, one of a fleet of giant starliners that wasn'tused until 2105 when Buy N Large arranged for the evacuation of Earth.This implies that The Hall of Everything may even contain blueprints or at least the inspirationfor events that are still to come in the future of the Pixar universe.

Co w duszy Gra CDA also demonstrates one of the most important concepts at the heart of Negroni's Pixar Theory,that humans are batteries.The idea is that human beings are a source of energy to sentient objects such as thetoys in Toy Story which is why they crave the love of their owners;otherwise, it's suggested that if the toys end up stored away they lose their life.And in Monsters Inc, we know that technology exists that can harvest energy from humanemotions such as fear or joy.And there are several moments in Soul that strongly support this idea of humans as anenergy source.When Joe is on the elevator that leads to the Great Beyond, he notices that as the soulsof the recently deceased float up into the big bright light, they fizzle and cracklelike an electrical charge.[electrical crackling sounds] As if to reinforce this idea that a soul isa form of energy, there's also an electrical crackle sound effect whenever we see Terrycounting souls on her abacus.[electrical crackling sounds] Joe also discovers in the Great Before thatbefore new souls can take their place on Earth, they not only have to acquire a set of personalities,but they also need what the movie calls a "spark" to complete that personality.Without this spark, theoretically a soul isn't allowed to go to Earth and live a human life.

Twenty-two does end up on Earth by accident, but the general rule is that a "spark" isneeded to complete the Earth Pass which a soul needs to live a life.The word "spark" can, of course, mean a number of things such as a burst of electricity oran intense feeling or emotion, which again points to this idea of human beings as a formof energy or batteries even.Another crucial element of Negroni's Pixar theory is the idea that Boo from MonstersInc travels back in time to become the Witch in Brave.I'll get to how Soul supports this idea shortly, but first let's quickly recap what the theorysays about time travel.Brave is set in 10th-century Scotland whereas, given the monsters' advanced technology, MonstersInc takes place in the future.The clearest evidence which suggests time travel is the wood carving of Sulley thatthe Witch has in her cottage.She's also obsessed with bears which could be her way of expressing the strong friendshipshe made with Sulley in Monsters Inc.On top of that, the Witch has carvings of the Pizza Planet truck which should be impossiblegiven motorised vehicles most definitely did not exist in medieval Scotlandand she has carved parodies of famous art by artists from the future like Michelangelo.

The door to the Witch's cottage is also magical and can transport her into an alternate interiorversion of her hut, and it can also make her disappear.This is because Boo learned how the technology of the portal doors at the Monsters Inc factoryworked, which is how she travelled through time and space.Crucially in Soul, we can see this same technology in the You Seminar.After souls are paired up with their mentor, Jerry conjures up a door and sends them throughit, instantly transporting them to another location.And when Jerry gives Joe his second chance to return to Earth, he passes from The GreatBeyond through a door and emerges on Earth through another door.Given The Great Before existed at the beginning of time, it suggests that the technology formagical portals in the Pixar Universe was originally born there.Soul also makes a sneaky possible reference to Boo's time-travel shenanigans in what initiallyappears to be a throwaway line by one of the Jerrys.When Terry turns up to complain that the count is out by one soul, Jerry replies:"I seriously doubt that.The count hasn't been off in centuries."This is a vital piece of information for Pixar theorists because it tells us an anomaly similarto Joe escaping the elevator that was taking him to the Great Beyond has happened previously,several hundred years ago in fact.To understand what may have happened all those centuries ago, let's look at what happenedwhen Joe's soul accidentally fell into the body of Mr Mittens."Why am I in a cat?""I don't know!""Meow."It seems that Mr Mittens' soul was sent off to The Great Beyond.So, what if Boo did a similar thing when she time-travelled to medieval Scotland?

Could she have landed in the body of a Scottish woman and displaced her soul sending it upto the Great Beyond?That would mean there'd be an extra soul in the afterlife without a corresponding deadbody on Earth, which could be the reason for the count being off as Jerry said.Interestingly, when Joe returns to his old body in Soul, Mr Mittens appears to regainhis original soul too as we see him reunite with his owner,so if my theory about Boo and the Witch's soul is correct, it makes me wonder whetherTerry did anything about the anomaly that occurred in the soul count hundreds of yearsago.By the way, it's worth pointing out that there's also a Brave easter egg in Soul during thevideo at the You Seminar when we see a soul find its spark after it successfully shootsan arrow into the centre of one of three targets, referencing Merida's demonstration of archeryskills when she fired arrows into three targets.And there are, of course, many more Pixar easter eggs in Soul including the Chinesetakeout box, A113, and the Luxo Ball, all of which I reveal in my full easter eggs video.Now, there are two Pixar movies, Inside Out and Coco, which on the surface seem to contradictSoul and maybe pose a problem for how smoothly it fits into the interconnected universe ofthe Pixar Theory.

The first issue is to do with personality.In The Great Before, we discover that every soul acquires a set of personalities beforethey go to Earth."This is where personalities come from?""Of course!Do you think people are just born with them?"However, in Inside Out, personalities are formed whenever a new core memory is made."Each Core Memory powers a different aspect of Riley's personality.The Islands of Personality are what make Riley...Riley!"While these ideas about personality may appear to be at odds with one another, they can beeasily reconciled if we think of a new born soul as having a baseline personality at birth,some of which adapts and changes as that person grows up and has different experiences.In fact, in Inside Out we see that Riley loses her personalities when she experiences a traumaticevent, however, these are later restored and new ones are also added as she grows up;so an individual's personality is clearly not something static or unchanging.Likewise, Soul also shows us how Twenty Two's personality changes as she experiences lifeon earth.Something else we need to reconcile is how Coco's Land of the Dead fits with Soul's depictionof The Great Beyond.

In Co w Duszy Gra online, the afterlife is a relatively simple place with an escalator that leads souls toa giant white light in the sky.This representation may be alluding to the idea that many people who report near-deathexperiences describe a tunnel with a bright light at the end that draws them towards it.Coco's spirit world, on the other hand, is complex and bursting with colours, with theMarigold Bridge forming a connection between the Land of the Living and the elaborate andcomplex Land of the Dead.Fear not though, because we can resolve these differences by turning to Pixar's officialThe Art of Soul book, which describes The Great Beyond as"a place beyond all that can be known […] represented by a brilliant white light ina vast space […] What lies beyond the light is all up to interpretation."As the book suggests, we can interpret what is beyond the bright light in our own way,and so we can see the Land of the Dead in Coco as a culturally-specific vision of whatthe afterlife is unique to people of Mexican heritage.This would also explain how Coco can have its own specific rules for its spirit world,such as allowing the dead to cross over to the Land of the Living one day each year.What's common to both Soul and Coco though is that the dead souls all retain the appearanceand age they had at the time of their death, whereas in the Great Before, all the soulslook more or less similar, likely because they haven't yet taken a human form yet.The sparks that a soul acquires may even explain where the Supers in The Incredibles got theirpowers.Could it be that the souls that ended up as superheroes were supercharged with extra powersby the spark they received in the Great Before?There is, after all, a statue of what looks like a caped hero on a plinth in the Hallof Everything.

Maybe that statue was responsible for sparking the unfortunate idea of caped superheroes."No capes!"And this is just a fun idea, but could the soul that's being interviewed here for theYou Seminar training video be the soul of Buddy Pine, aka Syndrome."I'm a manipulative megalomaniac, who's intensely opportunistic.""Oh ho!This one might be a handful, but that's Earth's problem."Perhaps Syndrome got his spark from that statue, because after all it was his cape that provedto be his ultimate undoing.And yes, Syndrome wasn't born with powers, but that statue might have inspired him toseek glory in whatever way he could.Or could that soul be Evelyn Deavor, the master manipulator and evil tech genius from thesecond Incredibles movie?The soul's possibly female-sounding voice might also suggest this, although we knowfrom Twenty Two that a soul can change their voice to sound like any type of person."I can sound like this if I wanted to.Or sound like this instead.I can even sound like you."If you like either of these ideas, leave a thumbs-up or comment below with which otherPixar character you think this troublemaking soul could be

[jeontaeh]

EPILOGUEˢⱽ

✫  ✬  ✭  ✬  ✫

✫5 years later✫

"A... space voyage?"

Namjoon looked at the older man sitting across the oak brown table diligently, raising his brow, a certain assertiveness in his tone that people knew to be cautious of. The man across the table smiled uneasily, nodding.

"Yes! An extensive journey across the galaxy. See, ever since those new alien species appeared from eons away, we've grown scared. There's so much of the universe that's still undiscovered! So I talked to my superiors, and we think it's the best fit for someone like you to lead this kind of a mission. You've done it before, no?" The man said, and Namjoon sighed, fixing his suit jacket.

"Eh... probably a few months." The man said, and Namjoon rose his eyebrow again. The man sighed. "Okay, 1 year. It'll be 1 year long, but that's not even that long! Ships go out for years at times!"

"Right, but by the time we're back, many many years would have passed," Namjoon said, and the guy shook his head. "Only a few! That's why I want you to arrange a team of hard-working young people who aren't scared to venture out for so long. Come on, Mr. Kim. Do it! All the paperwork you surround yourself with must get cumbersome. Don't you want to go back to space?"

Namjoon looked unsure and then stood up, humming. "I'll be back with my answer shortly," Namjoon said, and then walked out of the room.

Namjoon let out a short breath, walking out of the Galactic Navy headquarters, where he worked. He saw the pink skies overhead and then saw his car drive up, driver waiting for him to get in. Namjoon got into the back of the car and then gave the driver a certain address. Namjoon took his phone out, pressing it against his ear.

"Hello?" Namjoon asked, and then sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm afraid we're going to need your assistance."

✭

The 27-year-old man sat on his couch, seeing the hovering television above him, his dark hair tousled, fingers gripped around the neck of a wine bottle.

"You're drinking."

"Your mom."

"Yoongi that CAN'T be your answer every time I catch you drinking," Hoseok said, walking up to him. Hoseok grabbed the hovering television from above Yoongi and folded it up, chucking it to the side.

The smaller black haired man looked up at his orange haired boyfriend, who still had his bright young eyes and pinchable cheeks. Yoongi sat up, huffing. Hoseok sat down in front of him, cupping his cheeks. "Talk to me, baby. You've been drinking again. That's never a good sign."

"I'm just..." Yoongi mumbled, and then pushed forward, leaning his head on Hoseok's lap, clawing to hold his hand like a cat. "Bored, y'know? Work's been so boring lately. You can only translate another alien species' language so many times before it kills you!" Yoongi said, and Hoseok carded his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, I get it. Work's boring for me too. I designed 18 ship engines over the past 9 weeks, and honestly, they're all the same thing. I handed 18 same blueprints, and no one knows. Yoongi oh my fucking god I'm going to jail-"

"You're not going to jail for sending in the same 18 blueprints, dummy," Yoongi said, and Hoseok kissed his forehead. "But yeah. Working sucks. Why can't we just like... NOT work and still get money and benefits?? Ugh." Yoongi rolled his eyes, and they both heard the doorbell ring.

Hoseok and Yoongi both looked at the door, not expecting anybody. Both got up and trudged towards the door, and Hoseok opened it, and both him and Yoongi gasped in surprise when they saw Namjoon.

Namjoon grinned. "Say goodbye to your boring old lives," Namjoon smirked. "We're back on board, bitches."

"Feel lie that's overly aggressive and insensitive but WHAT?!" Hoseok gasped, and then Namjoon rushed into their house to tell them everything.

✭

"No!" A loud voice shouted. "Please, don't hurt her!" Jimin cried, tears in his eyes, hands stricken.

"Jimin it's fine," Lav let out softly, her hair straight and till her shin. She nodded at Jimin. "It's fine Jimin. Everything will be fine." She said.

"No!!!" Jimin continued, tears beginning to rush down his face.

"Why the FUCK are the two of your being so fucking dramatic?" Jin snapped, sitting on their breakfast counter, a glass of orange juice in his hand and a frown on his face.

"Because, Seokjin, we're playing Pacman and the little pink ghost is going to fucking DIE," Lav said, and then moved the controller and Jimin screamed when Pacman ATE the pink ghost.

"I fucking hate you guys. Why do I keep coming here for breakfast?" Jin grumbled to himself, getting up from the bar stool, walking over to the couches area, where the now avender haired boy and Lavender were sitting on the fluffy baby pink carpet.

"Because you got kicked out from your apartment."

"I didn't get kicked out- shut up Jimin! I left on purpose because Namjoon wouldn't choose with flowers to have for our 5 year anniversary dinner. When I asked for the last time, the bitch said lillies. Fucking LILLIES! Untasteful BITCH! So obviously I broke his watch. And then-"

"Literally relax. Also, I can't believe the two of you have been married for 5 years." Jimin said, and Jin sighed, walking up to them.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm done with this boring ass planet. I think me and Joon might shift." Jin said, and then there was a ring on the doorbell.

"Don't leave Jinnie! Who's going to help us when we get sick?" Jimin asked, and Jin frowned. "Bitch help yourself... damn."

Jimin widened his eyes. "Someone's aggy."

"Shut up. Your hair looks like slime. Stop coloring it so much. Shit feels like sandpaper." Jin said, feeling Jimin's hair between his fingers.

Jimin got up and jumped on him, beating him up. Jin yelled, and Lavender giggled and walked to the door. Jimin started talking about how he was going to fold Jin like an omelet, and then they heard a gasp.

"Namjoon!" Lavender said, and Jimin stood up, and Jin sat up, frowning. Namjoon smiled at the door, wearing a suit, hair dyed grey.

"Lav, Jimin- say goodbye to your old boring live-" Namjoon began once again, and then Jin stood up, walking up to him.

"You!" Jin shouted, and Namjoon widened his eyes.

"Oh my god," Namjoon said, and then ran out of Jimin and Lav's house, onto their front lawn. Jin ran after him, racing fast and then jumping onto his back. Namjoon screamed in terror.

"Look at this buffoonery," Jimin mumbled to Lav, who shook her head while they both watched.

Namjoon, who was now on the floor, looked at Jin and groaned. "Babe seriously, you're 29 now."

"Fuck you're right. I look mad dumb doing this bullshit out on the roads. Let's go to Jimin and Lav's house, I'll fight you in there-"

"No! Look, our 5 year anniversary is going to get a whole lot fucking better tonight, wanna know why?" Namjoon asked, a big smile on his face. Jin sighed.

"You're going to top for once?"

"What? No. Shut up." Namjoon said quickly, blushing. "Anyways! Come inside, I'll tell you everything." Namjoon said, and then both him and Jin got up and walked into the house.

"What's this about? RuPaul's Drag Race season 23982 is airing soon and I don't wanna miss it." Lavender groaned, and Jimin groaned as well, nodding.

"This is more important. Guys-" Namjoon said, and then grinned at them. "We're back on board." He said, and the three widened their eyes.

✭

There was only one more house Namjoon had to visit.

A slim finger twirled around a lock of red hair, twirling it over and over its fingers. A loud sigh filled the room, slim legs kicked onto a brown table, wearing short shorts and a bright red t-shirt.

"It's really annoying." Jungkook's voice filled the room. "He just refuses to do so! I keep asking again and again, but... I don't know. Maybe he's losing interest in me... we've been together 5 years! Yet he still hesitates..."

"Who're you talking to?" A deep voice asked, and Jungkook looked up and bit his bottom lip when he saw the silver haired boy leaning against the doorframe, wearing blue sweats and a black shirt.

Jungkook humphed, looking away. "Wow. So now you care about my feelings?"

"Are you still mad about last night, cherry?" Taehyung asked softly, walking over to Jungkook, who bit the inside of his cheek, seeing Taehyung walk over. "I said sorry so many times."

"Whatever. Big head." Jungkook mumbled, and Taehyung pouted a little, kneeling down by him. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh-" Jungkook said, looking at the phone, which was still on call. "I was just telling your dad about how you refuse to cum inside me without a condom on-"

"Jungkook!" Taehyung snapped, eyes big and cheeks blue. He grabbed the phone and put it against his ear. "Sorry, dad. Enjoy your vacation with other dad." Taehyung said, and then heard a chuckle from Zaivis from the other side and cut the phone.

"What's wrong with you? God- stop talking to my dad about this kind of stuff!" Taehyung snapped, and Jungkook's eyes grew big.

Jungkook saw Taehyung looked angry, and then whined, getting up from the chair. "You're being mean again!!" Jungkook cried, rushing out from the living room, his shorts riding up as he did, ass bouncing, making Taehyung look at them scornfully. Taehyung gulped, seeing the red haired boy jump onto the sofa, onto his stomach.

"Baby..." Taehyung said, walking up to him. "I'm doing it for your own safety, darling! It's not anything against you," Taehyung explained softly. "You're just being a little... voluptuous." He kneeled down in front of the sofa, putting his hand on Jungkook's ass.

Jungkook looked at him, pouting lightly. "Big word." Jungkook said in a small voice, and Taehyung smiled. Taehyung loved this. Loved this part of their relationship. Because Jungkook was sometimes bratty but so so fucking cute all the time, and Taehyung could live with that for a million years.

"It means you're not thinking right. Last night we started having sex, right? And then what went wrong?" Taehyung asked, continuing to knead Jungkook's ass.

"You... you didn't cum inside of me because you weren't wearing a condom." Jungkook explained, and Taehyung hummed, looking at him closely, hand still firm on his ass. "And then what did you do?"

Jungkook's cheeks turned the same shade as his hair, and the boy hid his face with his hands. "I started crying a-and called you a big jerk."

"Do you think that was fair to me?" Taehyung asked, and Jungkook shook his head, biting his lip. "I-I know- but- but I'm on birth control, Tae. Look-" Jungkook said, and then turned in a way and bent over the head of the couch, so his ass was facing Taehyung's face.

"How does me looking at your ass give me an indication of you being on birth control?" Taehyung mumbled.

"I don't know, but fuck me~" Jungkook wiggled his hips around, and Taehyung sighed, standing up and giving Jungkook a spank. Jungkook fell over and then growled at Taehyung.

"Kook you keep missing out on your pills! You don't even take them unless I remind you to." Taehyung snapped, and Jungkook bit his lip, squirming around on the couch.

"Nngh-" Jungkook mumbled, bringing his sweater paws up to his mouth and biting onto them. Jungkook began wiggling his ass more, and Taehyung frowned. "Nskdjskd."

"What?" Taehyung frowned. "SKDJKSDJ." Jungkook cried out, and Taehyung pulled the sweater sleeves out from between Jungkook's lips.

"Put your dick in me!" Jungkook whined, spreading his legs.

"Jesus." Taehyung said, turning around and walking out of the living room, leaving Jungkook like that. Jungkook started whining from the living room, and Taehyung just heard the bell ring and walked up to the door.

The door opened, and Taehyung gasped. "Namjoon!" Taehyung said, and then hugged him tightly. Namjoon hugged him back.

"Hey, Tae! Jimin told me you got back from Jupiter just a few days ago. How was your trip?" Namjoon asked, and Taehyung let him in.

"Great, great. You know, still helping their broken economy and all that. But this is such a surprise! How come you visited? We haven't met since Yoongi's birthday." Taehyung said, and Namjoon followed him inside.

"I have some big news! I think you'll be excited." Namjoon said, and Taehyung grinned widely. "Ooh, that sounds exciting. Why don't you wait in the living room, I'll get some water." Taehyung said, patting Namjoon's back. Namjoon hummed, walking up to their living room.

He opened the door, and then instantly he saw Jungkook on the couch with his ass in the air, whining into the pillow which his face was stuffed in. "Taehyungie pleaseeeee I need your fat cock to split me open-"

Namjoon screamed. Jungkook sat up on the couch and screamed as well, getting off the couch and standing up.

"Namjoon! What- what the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook let out, eyes wide.

"I'm!!!!!! Fuck! Okay." Namjoon took a deep breath. "I'm going to ignore what I saw, it's not like I haven't seen worse. I'm here to give some big news."

Jungkook gasped. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" Namjoon asked, eyes wide.

"What else could the big news be?"

"Why the fuck would I come to your house to tell you that YOU'RE pregnant???"

"I don't know how babies are made!" Jungkook snapped, and then the living room doors slid open and Taehyung walked in, holding a glass of water.

"Here." Taehyung said, giving him the water. He walked up to the other couch with Jungkook and sat down on it, seeing Jungkook still standing. Taehyung pulled Jungkook's shorts down from behind to cover his ass, giving an indication for the boy to sit down. "What's up?"

"We're back." Namjoon said, grinning. Taehyung froze for a bit, eyes growing big. Jungkook looked clueless.

"Back where?"

"We're back!!! Dude, it means we're back!"

"I have NO clue what that means-"

"Jungkook it means we're BACK."

"PLEASE someone explain clearly what the FUCK is going on-"

"The head of the Galactic Navy told me he needs me to find 9 suitable people to take on a mission to the other side of the galaxy for a year to explore." Namjoon said, and then smiled a little. "Just like we used to."

"Just like we used to," Taehyung's eyes glimmered, and then he smiled. "Are- are you here to recruit us?"

"I already asked Yoongi, Hobi, Jin Jimin, and Lav. So, yeah. The two of you. I know you guys just got engaged..." Namjoon said, looking at the sparkly rose gold ring sitting prettily on Jungkook's fourth finger, the bright blue diamond on it glittering in the sunlight. "...like two weeks ago. Which was why I thought this might be iffy to you guys..."

They got engaged 2 weeks ago. Zaivis had given Taehyung his grandmother's ring. Taehyung told an oblivious Jungkook that they were going for dinner. The two of them went to the moon, and Taehyung booked the roof of a restaurant. The lights were a light blue and red, and so were their cheeks, opposite but complete in its own way. Taehyung had kissed Jungkook lightly, and then Jungkook had begun rubbing himself against Taehyung because he thought Taehyung was hard. Turns out, Taehyung wasn't hard and just had a box in his pocket with a ring in it.

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, and then caressed his thigh, the redhead still looking a little confused. "No! No, honestly, we'd... we'd love that. I mean, all of us met that way, y'know? And I know cherry here hasn't been to space for a good few years. I mean, he just finished with University, after all." Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded.

"I have a degree!" Jungkook said excitedly, even though Namjoon was there at his graduation. Namjoon smiled.

"Exactly! No school butting into your lives, no work, nothing. Just us. In space. For a year. Cruising the galaxy. We might come close to dying- but look how much we've grown! We've got amazing weapons, powerful technology! I mean, Jimin can communicate with almost every species! Yoongi can get all the information on the planets! Jin can help all of us with our injuries! Hoseok can engineer the ship! Taehyung, you can explore, and Lav can navigate! And Jungkook can...." Namjoon trailed.

Jungkook looked down, pouting. "I-it's okay. You don't have to take me if you d-don't wanna." Jungkook said, gnawing down on his bottom lip, looking hurt, eyes big.

"Woah, Joon-" Taehyung said, hand protectively going on Jungkook's back. "I'm not going without Jungkook," Taehyung said lowly, and Jungkook looked at Taehyung with a slight blush.

"I know! I was kidding, relax! Jungkook can help us so much. He's the ideas guy, isn't he?" Namjoon said, and Jungkook looked up with big eyes.

Ever since University, Jungkook's main job in the Galactic Navy was to literally make up as many ideas as he could. His brain always runs wild and he comes up with a list of a thousand things. And even if 999 of them are absolute bullshit, one of them is what makes their whole mission a success.

Jungkook smiled. "Yeah! Let's do it!" Jungkook chimed, grinning widely. Taehyung smiled. "Yeah. Me too. I'm getting tired of being the Jupiterian diplomat. I wanna get down and dirty again."

"You can get down and dirty here too, Taehyungie-" Jungkook licked Taehyung's ear, and Taehyung put his hand over Jungkook's mouth, still smiling at Namjoon.

"We're in." Taehyung said, and Namjoon nodded with a grin.

"But wait-" Taehyung said, frowning. "You said 9 people. Jungkook, Jimin, Lav, Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, You, me- that's just 8. Who's the last person?" Taehyung asked, and then trailed. "Unless you mean..."

Namjoon took a deep breath, nodding fearfully. "He's here." He whispered faintly, and Taehyung and Jungkook's eyes widened.

✭

"Y'all want me to come on some kind of a space cruise?"

Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin, Lav, and Namjoon stood there, looking nervous. Sitting on a beach chair was Yeontan, getting a back massage by some girl.

"Look, Tannie. You're our only hope. You know the universe better than anyone does! You're the master! With your intellect, we could be safe and sound!" Taehyung said.

Yeontan looked away, sunglasses on his head. "I don' know, fellas. I'm chilling here. I've got a nice ass house, some nice ass babes, a nice ass life. What do y'all have? NOTHING. And THAT'S the real tea."

"I love him." Lavender whispered to Jimin, who nodded in agreement.

"Please, Yeontannie? Just for a bit! You don't have to stay the full year!" Jungkook said, blinking his big lashes, kneeling down in front of the beach chair. "We'll do everything for you!!"

"Yo, weren't you straight or summn' 5 years ago?" Yeontan asked, and Jungkook huffed. "Homosexuality got me, bitch. Anyway- please!!"

Yeontan kicked Jungkook, and Jungkook turned away, knowing he deserved it.

Yeontan sighed. "Okay, fine, fine! I'll come for a month or so. No longer, aight? I don't trust humans and shit. Y'all stink."

"Girl you're ferile."

"I'll kill you." Yeontan said to Jimin, who looked down, getting hit in the head by Namjoon. Namjoon looked at Yeontan longingly.

"Thank you so much. We owe you a lot. The ship takes off tomorrow." Namjoon nodded, and Yeontan hummed, seeing them walk away. Jungkook rushed up to him and kissed his head.

"I'll spit on you."

"Got it." Jungkook said, and then waved at him and rushed up to the others, smiling.

✭

"King Bing DIED??"

"Yeah. Died while getting a blow job." Yoongi said, and Jin spluttered out in disbelief. Jin was in his blue uniform, and Yoongi in his green. It truly felt like they'd reversed time 5 years.

"Hope he burns in hell! Mwah." Jungkook said, and got a slap on the butt by Hoseok, who was checking the space ship to see if it was alright.

The space ship was the same one. The same one from 5 years ago, except more advanced and had more quirks. They were all setting up, as departure was in 30 minutes.

"Hey, is it just me, or had Jungkook gotten like 40 times gayer over the past few years?" Lav whispered to Taehyung, who looked at Jungkook and hummed.

"Ooh I remember- we had sex on the floor there, and then Taehyung picked me up and took me to his room where we had sex there, and then we had sex in my room-"

"Stop listing all the places you've had sex on this ship." Namjoon said, and Jungkook huffed.

"So wait- what's this about you and Jin being married this whole time?" Hoseok asked, and Jin chuckled.

"It's a long story."

"Bitch we have time."

"Jeez. Okay, basically... you know that time during our giant adventure when we went to that one planet? It was in the beginning. Well, we split up, and Namjoon and I went to a place. And then the dude at that place was like 'do y'all wanna get married' and we were like Yes." Jin explained.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell us you were MARRIED the whole goddamn time," Jimin said.

"Because we thought it'd be funny, and we thought we were going to die. Plus, Jin and I slept together 2 years before we met again at this spaceship. We knew each other from before." Namjoon said, and Jungkook frowned.

"How did the two of you end up having the craziest love story out of all of us...."

"Y'all boring." Yeontan said, sitting in front of the control board.

"Okay well, guys. This is it. The beginning to our one year expedition to the unknown corners of space. We'll meet weird people, see weird things, go to weird places, and finally, probably have a lot of sex. Let's do it!" Namjoon said, and all of them started cheering.

Jungkook suddenly gasped. "I need to pee!!" Jungkook suddenly squeaked and then ran off. The boys ignored it.

"Engines, ready." Hoseok said, closing the last panel of the ship and sitting down in front of the control board.

Jimin sat down on the communications table with Yoongi, both grinning. "Boosters, ready."

"All systems ready," Lav added, sitting beside Taehyung, who was right in the middle of the control board, hand hovering over the red button that would blast them a billion miles away.

"Ship is ready for take off." Taehyung said, looking front, knowing they'd come back to this planet years later. He's said long drawn goodbyes to his fathers, but they knew it'd only be like 5 years or so that their son would be gone.

"Let's set this bitch on fire." Namjoon smirked, and then Taehyung slammed his hand down onto the button, and the ship roared in ecstasy and began racing forward.

"Fuck!" Jin let out, sitting down, being strapped.

"Wait- wait where's Kook?" Taehyung said in the midst of the movement. No one could hear him, because the ship was moving too fast, too loud, a bright beaming light in front of them.

"THIS SHIT FEELS TIGHT!" Yeontan yelled, and Jimin screamed because it kind of felt like a roller coaster.

Finally, the ship stopped, and all the boys found themselves in the middle of silence, seeing planets in the distance. They all started clapping and cheering, thankfully this time no one was screaming or crying (unlike last time).

Taehyung took off his seatbelt and got up, running out of the control room in an instant. "Kookie?" Taehyung called, looking around the ship. Taehyung ran through the rooms and lounges, fear growing in his heart. "Baby?"

Taehyung finally burst the washroom door open, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Jungkook. "Oh god, baby, you're here. I got so fucking scared-" Taehyung began, and then froze.

Jungkook stood there with eyes wide, holding a white stick in his hands. Taehyung's eyes widened, and he looked at Jungkook, who had tears in his eyes, mouth agape slightly. The white stick had a plus sin on it.

Jungkook was pregnant.

"12 more months of this shit!! No going back now!!" Jimin said loudly from the control room, and Taehyung let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Oh fuck." Taehyung said weakly, and Jungkook bit down on his lip. Oh fuck indeed.

✫THE END✫

✫  ✬  ✭  ✬  ✫

[incorrectk-popquotes]

My fic is fully uploaded!!!

You guys may remember that I posted the first chapter of my fic on here a couple weeks ago! Well, I finally finished uploading all 20 chapters on AO3!!

You guys should check it out!! I’ll put the first chapter under the cut again in case anyone missed it! <3

Title: A Better Place

Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Woojin; Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin; Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix; Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N

Tags/warnings: Gangs, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Cults, Running Away, Anxiety Attacks, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Anxiety, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, gratuitous violence, Gang Violence, Violence, Drug Addiction

Summary:  Chan just wants to create a place where lost kids can come and have a family, but his past is catching up with him and threatening to ruin everything he’s worked so hard to create. After years of carefully cultivating one of the most powerful and notorious gangs in the city, Stray Kids are being targeted by a secret and powerful organization hellbent on bringing them down. Will Stray Kids be able to defeat the organization before their empire crumbles? Or will the horrors they face get the better of them ~~~ “His entire goal in bringing everybody together was to make a better place for them. Make a place that was safe for them. Nothing about this was better. Nothing about this was safe.”

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: Rebels

[Under the cut]

“Minho,” Chan’s voice said suddenly over the com in Minho’s ear, startling him and causing him to lose his focus on the lock he was currently attempting to pick. “Status update.”

“Would be going significantly faster if you stopped asking for status updates every 5 seconds,” Minho gritted out, forcing his attention back on the difficult lock. Behind him, Felix snickered at his irritation. He was good at what he did, but this lock was tough and he had already been trying to pick it for too long. Every second that the locking mechanism didn’t click into place, more anxiety twisted in Minho’s belly. Wiping his hands quickly on his pants, he focused his entire attention back on the lock.

Tickling at the back of his mind was the knowledge that Changbin could only keep the security system at bay and Jeongin could only keep the security guards engaged for so long before they remembered that they had a job to attend to. These thoughts only succeeded in making Minho’s hands sweatier, making the small metal tools he was working with feel slippery and hard to work with.

Clenching his jaw, Minho carefully worked his pick in the lock, pressing down the pins in the mechanism. The tiny, satisfying click it suddenly let out made him pause. He did it. He stared at it with wide eyes for one moment before snapping out of it. He breathed out all of the anxiety that had been crushing his lungs, and a smug smile broke out on his face. Looking back at Felix, Minho wiggled his eyes mischievously and pushed the door open with a flourish.

“It’s open,” he whispered smugly.

“About damn time,” Changbin murmured, obviously trying to sound annoyed but it just sounded relieved.

Stowing his tools in his pocket and wiping the sweat off his still slightly shaky hands, Minho pushed the door open a little bit more. It was small and dark and looked like nothing more than a storage room at first glance. The earlier anxiety had completely replaced itself with giddy excitement as Minho moved in and flipped on the light, illuminating the room in the same harsh fluorescent lighting that lit the rest of the building. His grin grew wider as he looked at all of the shelves which were filled with bricks of white powder.

“You have 68 seconds to get in there, fill the bags, and get out,” Changbin informed them. “I can try to keep the system down longer, but they’ll start to notice.”

“Aye, aye, cap-Bin” Minho giggled quietly, unable to contain his glee. A quick glance at Felix showed that the other boy felt the same excitement upon seeing everything in front of them. Sharing a grin, Minho and Felix moved into the room and started filling the backpacks as quickly as they could.

“Time to get a move on,” Chan said, his voice tense with worry. “Whatever you have is plenty.” Minho heard Felix zip up his bag behind him, but he couldn’t force himself to leave just yet, he needed to take more. Grabbing another brick, Minho shoved it into the already overflowing backpack.

“ Now , Minho,” Changbin demanded over the com. He sounded annoyed, but Minho knew that he was just worried. Neither Chanbin nor Chan liked to send the rest of them into unfamiliar locations alone, especially when it was a location they couldn't drop into at a moment’s notice if something went wrong. Minho grabbed one last brick of the white powder, slipping it into the pocket of his hoodie, before zipping up his backpack and following Felix into the hallway. Felix was giving him a look that Minho didn’t have time to decipher as he pulled the door closed.

Ignoring Felix’s look, for now, he pressed himself up against the wall and motioned for Felix to do the same. It wouldn’t do them any good to leave here if they were just going to run into the guards’ waiting arms because they were stupid enough to not check first. Holding his breath, Minho listened intently. When the only sound that he heard was Jeongin’s bright chatter with the guards over the com, he let out a breath and nodded for Felix to follow him down the hall.

“En route to the rendezvous,” Minho said lowly. They moved fast, keeping their steps light and staying close to the walls, out of sight of most of the cameras. They peeked out every once in a while so Changbin could keep track of their location through the building. Minho knew the way out, having studied a blueprint of the building before the job. He had to constantly remind himself that just because he knew the way out didn’t mean that he could let his guard down. Just because nothing had gone wrong up until this point, didn’t mean something couldn’t go wrong now.

Glancing back at Felix, Minho frowned when he saw the hardened look in his eyes. It was a look that reminded Minho too much of Felix’s past and Minho didn’t like it. Looking at the other’s hand, his frown deepened when he saw the gun, loaded and ready, in his hand. Minho made a mental note to talk to him about that later.

“We are waiting at the meeting point,” Woojin voiced over the com. Minho hummed in acknowledgment, turning his attention back to the bright, empty corridor. He stayed alert, really not wanting to get surprised or ambushed by anybody, especially with Felix being so on edge right now. He could practically feel the tension coming from the other, and that was never a good sign.

“You got a couple guards up here around the corner,” Changbin informed them. Minho glanced back at Felix and saw that he had readied his gun and was ready for a fight. “There should be a supply closet on your right,” Changbin continued. “Hide in there and I’ll let you know when they pass.” Minho ducked into the closet Changbin mentioned, dragging Felix in with him, and pushed the door closed behind them. It was dark, cramped, and smelled of cleaning supplies, but Minho could still make out the anger on Felix’s face as he glared holes into the door.

Keeping a vice-like grip on Felix’s wrist, Minho forced his gun to remain at Felix’s side. Sadness and unease settled heavily in Minho’s mind as he watched Felix continue to grit his teeth and glared at the door like he wanted to burst through it and kill every living thing on the other side. Heavy footsteps walked past the door of the little supply closet they were hiding in. Minho felt Felix’s fingers twitch on the gun, tightening around the handle and moving closer to the trigger.

Releasing Felix’s wrist, Minho placed a gentle hand over Felix’s on the gun. He grabbed Felix’s chin and forced him to stop glaring at the door and instead look into his eyes. This couldn’t happen right now. They were in too good of a position to have Felix check out and go berserk. But more than that, Minho really didn’t want Felix to do something that he would regret after the job.

The pointed glare Minho directed at him seemed to snap Felix back into himself. Looking at the ground guiltily, his fingers around the stock of the gun loosened, but Minho didn’t dare remove his hand until Felix moved to reholster the weapon. Minho breathed a small sigh of relief and squeezed Felix’s shoulder reassuringly, focusing again on the sounds of the hallway. He couldn’t hear the heavy footsteps outside anymore, but that didn’t mean much and since Changbin hadn’t given them the go-ahead to leave the room, they stayed put. Minho continued to gently hold Felix’s shoulder as they stood together in the dark, hoping to keep him grounded in reality.

“Okay, you’re clear,” Changbin finally said after what felt like eons in that too cramped closet. Minho gave Felix a questioning look, hoping that Felix was okay to keep going. Felix just gave a small nod, still mostly avoiding his eyes, and pressed passed Minho to open the door leaving Minho to trail behind.

~~~

Woojin drummed his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel of the rental car he sat in with Hyunjin. After hearing that the other team had almost been caught, he was anxious for them to reach the meeting point and make the handoff. While the job itself wasn’t particularly difficult, something about it made him uneasy and he would very much like it to be over as soon as possible. The pay for the job was too high for a simple theft and delivery. No matter what they were delivering, there’s no way anybody would pay this much for it. Something about it just didn’t feel right.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s voice snapped Woojin out of his nervous rumination. Woojin looked over at him and immediately felt guilty by the concern in Hyunjin’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Jinnie,” Woojin reassured kindly, quirking his lips up into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Judging from the suspicious look on Hyunjin’s face, he didn’t exactly succeed. But Hyunjin dropped the subject with a curt nod; the job was no place to discuss these kinds of things. Woojin sighed and looked back out the windshield, watching for Minho and Felix to make their way out of the building.

Finally, the two crept into the dark parking garage where Woojin and Hyunjin were waiting. Woojin almost leaped out of the car to greet them, but restrained himself and waited for them to swiftly make their way to the car. The two backdoors opened and Woojin watched as two heavy looking backpacks were dropped onto the car seats. Woojin sent a skeptical look to Minho, who’s front hoodie pocket pulled at the rest of his hoodie.

“Is that all of it?” he asked pointedly, deliberately keeping any accusation out of his words. He knew Minho tended to take more than what they needed and just keep it. While he knew that Minho wasn’t planning on using any of the extra drugs they had stolen, it was better not to keep them on around at all. Judging by the sheepish smile Minho gave him, he was right. Woojin watched as Minho reached into his bulging pocket, pulling out one more brick of the white powder, he put it on the seat next to the backpacks.

“Handoff crew,” Chan’s voice said over the com, “you need to go now.” Woojin simply hummed in reply, watching as the other team shut the back doors and stepped away, making their way to the getaway vehicle where Seungmin and Jisung were waiting.

Woojin pulled out of the parking garage and headed to the agreed-upon location for the delivery. The unease crept back into his mind as they got closer to the location. Fingers drumming the steering wheel anxiously, he examined his surroundings closely. He heard Chan telling Jeongin it was time for him to get out of there and meet up with the others in the getaway vehicle. It brought him some amount of comfort to hear that all the kids had made it out alright.

“Woojin?” Hyunjin’s concerned voice again pulled Woojin out of his thoughts. He glanced at Hyunjin, humming softly in acknowledgment.

“Are you sure your alright?” The question caused Woojin’s heart to clench and he directed what he hoped was a warm smile at the other.

“I already told you I’m fine,” he said, gently squeezing Hyunjin’s knee. Hyunjin didn’t look convinced, but they didn’t have time to dwell on it as they pulled up to the location.

Woojin sat in the car a moment, regarding the other car parking in front of them. He suppressed laughter at how stereotypically supervillain-esque it looked with its sleek, black paint and darkly tinted windows. A man in a suit with dark aviators stepped out of the car and again Woojin had to work very hard to school his features in a neutral business expression. Were they doing business with James Bond himself?

Nodding for Hyunjin to follow, Woojin stepped out of the car casually, forcing his face into a bored expression. Woojin watched as Hyunjin gathered the two backpacks and the extra brick. Woojin didn’t like having Hyunjin carry all of those drugs, but he needed to show Mr. Aviators that he was in charge here.

“Is that the merchandise?” Mr. Aviators asked, nodding to the bags that Hyunjin held.

“Might be,” Woojin hummed offhandedly, examining his nails. Despite the show of disinterest, he was very alert to the man in front of them. After a moment he crossed his arms loosely and looked back up at Mr. Aviators with an indifferent expression. “I guess you won’t actually figure that out until we get our money.” Mr. Aviators nodded once, moving back to the car, he reached in to pull something. Woojin kept his expression impassive and bored, but he felt Hyunjin at high alert beside him. Pulling out a briefcase, Mr. Aviators opened it and showed them the stacks of cash inside.

“That’s the agreed-upon amount?” Woojin asked suspiciously, eyeing the stacks. It seemed like plenty, but the whole situation made Woojin desperate to remain in charge. Despite Mr. Aviators just being some goon from the other party, he still felt the nerves pricking under his skin.

“Of course,” Mr. Aviators said promptly, giving a stiff nod. Woojin glanced at Hyunjin and nodded for him to go collect the briefcase. He watched as Hyunjin set down the backpacks and extra brick and walked to grab the case. Woojin kept his indifferent facade in place, but tension built in him as he watched Hyunjin get closer than comfort to Mr. Aviators and their car.

Hyunjin collected the case and hurried back to Woojin opening it for Woojin to inspect. In all honesty, Woojin didn’t care at all how much was in the case, but he was overwhelmingly glad that Hyunjin was back by his side. Taking the case with a satisfied nod, he flipped it closed and turned swiftly back toward his car. He heard Hyunjin toss the bags toward Mr. Aviators and hoped the boy was following him back to the car.

“Tell your boss,” Woojin said icily when he reached the car, “that next time, I would love to do business with him directly.” Tossing the briefcase into the backseat, Woojin got in the car. Without waiting for Hyunjin to buckle his seatbelt, he pulled away from the meeting spot and started heading away. The facade broke and he let out a shaky breath. Glancing over, Woojin saw Hyunjin slumped back in his seat, fingers idly picking at the threads in his jeans as he stared out the window. He must have felt the same unease about this whole thing that Woojin was feeling.

“Delivery made,” Woojin said into the com. “We have the cash.”

~~~

Seungmin was bouncing nervously in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio. Jisung kept sending him death glares because of his nervous fiddling, but he was too anxious to care. Initially, Jisung had tried in vain to get Seungmin to calm down, but eventually, he just gave up because Seungmin was just too nervous to console. He hated having to wait for the other’s to get out of jobs okay. He hated the waiting because it always just feels like they are all collectively waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He had been flipping incessantly through radio stations, Jisung had given up trying to make him stop at this point when the back doors were swung open, nearly causing him to shriek. Whipping around, he relaxed a little when he saw Felix and Minho climb into the vehicle.

“You can put the knife down,” Minho laughed awkwardly, glancing over at Felix. Seungmin followed his eyes and saw Felix had gone completely rigid, eyes locked on the knife that Seungmin didn’t even see Jisung pull. Seungmin watched apprehensively as Jisung blinked once, looked down at the knife, and then set it down. Seungmin watched as Felix’s eyes tracked the knife.

“If I knew pulling a knife would make you not be able to take your eyes off of me, I’d do it more often,” Jisung joked, letting out a bright laugh. Despite his cheery tone and smiling, his eyes were sharp as he watched Felix closely.

At the sound of Jisung’s laugh, Felix’s eyes snapped away from the knife. Seungmin watched as Jisung’s eyes immediately softened as Felix looked at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. Seungmin coughed a little and turned around to fiddle with the radio a little.

“How did everything go?” Seungmin asked a moment later, turning off the radio and matching Jisung’s posture facing the back completely. He had been listening to the com at the beginning, but it ended up just making him more nervous, so he had tuned it out.

Minho sent Felix an odd look that Seungmin couldn’t quite decipher. Before he had time to dwell on it though, Felix’s face broke out into a broad grin.

“You should have seen that room, guys,” Felix said, leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “There was, like, 300 kilos of that shit in there!” Seungmin frowned at him, not liking at all how excited Felix got over that many drugs. Seungmin glanced at Jisung and noticed the frown etched into his face too.

“Oh my God,” Minho said, dramatically falling back in the seat. “It was like walking into the golden city itself!”

“I don’t understand why you guys are so excited about that,” Seungmin mumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and turning around to slump in his chair. As a nursing student, something about the drug runs just didn’t sit right in him. He didn’t like the idea of aiding in allowing people access to the shit, even if they weren’t the ones directly distributing it. Seungmin knew Jisung shared his sentiment, but he was never able to get the other to tell him exactly why he didn’t like them after having grown up in a place where they were so normalized.

“Think about how much that room alone was worth!” Minho exclaimed, leaning forward dramatically. “And we only took a tiny bit of it!” Beside him, Felix nodded his grin still wide across his face. Even though Seungmin didn’t agree with the reason for the excitement, it was contagious. Seungmin found himself grinning despite himself, and a glance at Jisung confirmed that the other was fighting back a grin, too.

Seungmin tuned out the rest of the conversation and relaxed into the seat a bit, watching the street intently for when Jeongin would come. Judging from the silence over the com when Seungmin finally decided to start listening again, he could only assume that Chan had told Jeongin that it was time for him to leave. The fact that he couldn’t hear Jeongin’s constant chatter set him on edge.

Seungmin didn’t even realize that he had started to nervously chew on his nails as he stared at the road and listened to the quiet of the com until Jisung reached over a pulled his hand away from his mouth. He looked over at Jisung in surprise. The look of sympathy he received was a little disarming.

“He’ll be fine, Seungmin,” Jisung said comfortingly, placing Seungmin’s hand down on the console. Jisung kept his hand firmly over Seungmin’s wrist, keeping him from continuing to gnaw on his nails. “Will you please take a breath.” Seungmin nodded taking a deep breath and forcing every muscle in his body to relax. This seemed to satisfy Jisung because he went back to chatting with the others, but he didn’t move his hand from Seungmin’s wrist.

Turning his attention back out the window, he spotted Jeongin bouncing down the street, a bright smile on his face. Seungmin perked up a bit when he saw the other, thankful that he looked generally uninjured. Seeing Jeongin bounding in their direction caused Seungin to finally relax against his seat. A small smile spread across his face as Jeongin flew into the car, crawling over Felix to position himself in the middle of the backseat.

“Didn’t I do good?” Jeongin asked, happily bouncing a bit in the seat and causing Minho to grumble a little beside him, but Seungmin saw the tiny smile that was tugging at Minho’s lips.

“So good,” Seungmin said smiling brightly at the other through the rearview mirror as he started the car and shifted it into drive. “Nobody could have done a better job than you, Innie.” He drove away from the curb as the rest of the car fell into a comfortable conversation. He was glad that everybody had made it out safe.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Get ready to form voltron!

Obligatory warning for a long post ahead: Whilst I know this post may be intimidating to some people. please do not let it put you off from reaching out to me :) “I say vol and you say tron! Vol…..” “Eh.... voltron?” “We’ll work on it.” Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve been able to stay safe and healthy during the pandemic (and that the easing of some restrictions depending on where you are has not negatively affected you). After binge watching legendary defender on netflix I’ve had the undying and uncontrollable urge to do a voltron rp. Now I bet you’re all wondering what I want and if you’re going to get to do some shipping.......we’ll I guess you’re just going to have to read on and find out. I’m looking for literate rper’s only. That means people who write in third person past tense, can give me at the very least one well thought out and fleshed paragraph (as well as be willing to write more when the situation calls for it) and has a decent grasp on their spelling, grammar and punctuation. I will not yell at you for the occasional bout of typonese but one liners, one worders, poorly written responses and lazy writing in general will not keep me around. If I can’t read what you’ve written and you’re not willing to put some effort in or correct it then there’s no point in me sticking around. I also require rper’s who’ve actually watched voltron whether it be legendary defender, defender of the universe or voltron force. If you’re someone whose a stickler for canon accuracy then I’m probably not the rper for you. When I rp in a fandom setting I treat it a bit like a base as in there’s rules to follow but I don’t have to follow them as if I’m reading the show script. To put it simply I value creativity and ideas that allow a different take on the characters and what could’ve happened. I only rp male alien or alien hybrid characters and they’re premade but flexible in how they’re written. I do not have pictures nor do I desire to spend endless hours of time to find a face claim of a creature that isn’t the typical different coloured humanoids you see in voltron. I have descriptions and that’s it. I do not care if your character is made up on the spot or if you prefer to rp as a canon character. Shippers......I’m sorry but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. I do not rp them as mains so if you were looking for some sheith or klance I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said you are free to play as any canon character you desire or an oc as I’m open to oc x oc pairings or oc x canon pairings (you being the canon character) and I do either MxM or FxM pairings. Romance and non fade to black smut will both occur in the rp but it must be slow burn. I do not do fast paced love at first sight as it’s just not something that holds my interest. No sub dom dynamics, switch dynamics only and please no characters whose entire personality is just one emotion or one trait they have. Guys.....please don’t call my aliens furries or whatever. I don’t rp generic spray painted humans and we’re rping in a world full of wacky and crazy aliens that have fur,scales,tails,multiple arms, etc so I find it Incredibly annoying to have a label forced on my character like it’s a bad thing. Alien means something not from earth, if a human was to be born on altea or daibazzal, it’d be considered an alien despite probably being a hundred percent human. If your view and comfort zone is restricted to aliens that look like an altean and nothing else then you needn’t not message me. I’m not going to make you rp with me if this is a dealbreaker so if you don’t heed this warning then you do not be rude after pulling a shocked pikachu. Be mature about it if you realise it’s a deal breaker rather than just blocking or suddenly deciding you no longer want to talk to me and that you’ll just ignore me till I unfriend you. DO NOT COME TO ME SAYING OR ASKING YOU WANNA DO A SHEITH RP/ DO YOU RP AS THESE CANON CHARACTERS! I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer that I do not do canon character mains nor do I do rp’s solely for the purpose of shipping said rp characters. As I’ve said before, if you wanna play a canon character go ahead but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. My oc’s are my mains. You and your characters must be 18+. I’m in my twenties and will not rp with a minor, especially since I have mature and adult themes in my rp’s that I do not want to get into trouble for Rping them with someone whose underaged. Underaged characters are just........a big no for the sole fact that my characters are adults and that i do not feel uncomfortable playing against underaged characters. You must be able to give me one or more responses a day. If it’s been two weeks since the last response and you’ve mysteriously disappeared then I’m not going to stick around for the day you decide to answer me. I do not like having my time wasted for any reason. My time zone is the eastern Australian time zone but I’m available and awake at odd hours so time zones aren’t too big of an issue for me. Remember that I’m looking for a long term partner, someone to carry an rp with for more than just a few days or a week and someone to write multiple stories with. I have tonnes of ideas and head cannons for the rp but I’m open to brainstorming and ideas. We can mix and match ideas till we get something we both like. I want this to be a shared job, don’t expect me to be the one to carry everything just cause I’m the one supplying the idea. Down below I’ve decided to list a couple of ideas that I have: New school defenders: the paladins of voltron have been defending the universe for years. Many stories of their countless victories, battles and struggles are something that every parent who was alive during the war told their children. Once the main three were taken out (haggar, lotor and zarkon) the paladins settled down to teaching the garrisons new generation of cadets. The new change in curriculum was welcome for many as well as a new change in ship style. To make sure that peace could be maintained in every quadrant of every galaxy the paladins of voltron has trained the cadets to fly animal styled space ships like the lions. The animal ship a pilot was assigned depended on their personality, strengths, weaknesses, how well they worked in a team and their style of fighting and piloting skills. The importance of team bonding was something the paladins basically preached. When news of the return of an old foe forces the paladins to return to their jobs as voltrons warriors and they suddenly disappear many write them off as dead or perhaps in distress. None of the superiors are interested to find out..... so who will? Lotor’s reign: It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true. Voltron taken down by lotor, son of the mighty emperor zarkon himself, and the paladins were now working for him without question as his top generals?! When the news had first hit many people had panicked whilst countless others had been slain for daring to believe and protest that it was all just some lie made up by the half galran prince who was now an emperor like his father before him. Princess Allura herself was locked away in an unknown location after refusing the cruel man’s hand in marriage so she is no help for what is now a lost hope. Lotor’s reign had well and truly begun all those years ago and it was holding steady. People had forgotten long ago that even in complete and utter darkness….one can always find a speck of light that burns bright no anger how small. Mirror mirror: For many years people believed the galra were a race of cruel, vicious, animalistic thinking beings whose only goal was to destroy and conquer words. No one would’ve ever believed that it was the peacekeeping alteans that had been working to plot the galaxy’s downfall. Voltron, belonged to the galrans, they’d been the ones who’d built it after all despite letting alfor pilot voltron’s right arm. When the king had been turned down on his idea to share the mighty robotic war machine he simply built his own. Five dragons that formed dracotron were what the alteans used as their voltron and weapon to conquer the galaxies. Emperor zarkon, under the advice of Haggar the witch, was one of the few world leaders who managed to get his people to safety. Ever since watching the great kingdoms that he’d known for almost ten thousand years fall under the alteans greed and obsession for power over peace, he prayed for miracle in whatever form he could get it in. When two young stragglers end up stranded on the galra’s second home world, the cards of fate are laid according to haggar, much to everyone else’s confusion. What could two lost souls possibly do to bring back what was lost to the alteans? Gamora’s guns: The guns of Gamora was a rebel group with the goal of foiling any plans of the altean empress allura. Led by the brave commander Sven and his somewhat neurotic sidekick Slav, the gun’s were spread far across the galaxy in little pockets of altean dominated space to keep tabs on the empires schemes and try their best to counteract them. The new recruits were aliens and humans from far and wide working together hand in hand to try and prevent a reign of terror from truly taking over. When plans for creating a super weapon fall on the ears of a trusted source, the newest batch of recruits are sent to locate, find and bring back the blueprints. Of course, such things are easier said than done. The chosen: Keith.lance.hunk.shiro (or Sven, depends on whether you want this to follow a legendary defender type story arc or one of the older series). Allura. Pidge. These were names that belonged to the universe's greatest heroes. Legends beyond all compare. They were champions of the universe and paladins of the mightiest robotic warrior to have ever been built: voltron. The great robot and the lions that formed it were well over ten thousand years old…..sadly for the paladins, they knew that they wouldn’t live to or beyond the great age their lions and oldest enemies had. The galaxy garrison had worked extra hard on ensuring that the next generation of pilots would be suitable candidates for the possibility of becoming voltron’s future paladins. Each paladin chose a student whom they felt like would be the most suitable to take their place and trained them with the knowledge that they were not the ones who had the final decision as to who flew who…..or even if they’d fly at all. What happens when one student fails and is rejected by not one but all the lions? What becomes of them and what is their place on team voltron? What happens to the rest of the team? Only time will tell, according to coran, such a thing has never happened before…...but what happens if it does? From all walks of life to the universe's greatest heroes: Shouldn’t have to explain this one too much. Forget the show paladins, bring your oc’s or next gens onto the table and let them take the stage! Before we reach the end of the post, here are some important reminders: 1: NO REACHING OUT TO ME ASKING FOR A CANON CHARACTER SHIPPING RP! I DO NOT DOUBLE SO DO NOT ASK! 2: DONT MESSAGE ME IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NOT VERY HUMANOID ALIENS! 3: NO GARY STU’S OR MARY SUES! GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS A PERSONALITY THAT ISN’T JUST ONE EMOTION OR TRAIT ONLY! For those who’ve read this thoroughly thank you and congratulations! If you’re at all interested please send me a request via one of the contacts below that says who you wanna be, which lion or paladin you think you’d most likely to be if you were in voltron, which idea you liked (or one of your own) and the numbers 123 to confirm you’ve read everything. My discord: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My telegram: Tiberionwars My hangouts: lleo52560@gmail.com Hope to write some awesome stories! Will accept requests as long as this ad is up.

[get-your-fics]

Mr. Valeska

Summary: You’re an architecture major studying from Jeremiah Valeska. He takes an interest in you, but it stems far beyond the typical teacher-student relationship.

Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x reader

Warnings: Smut, rape/non-con, sexual harassment, language, alternate universe

You sat in the back row of the lecture hall, typing away furiously on your laptop as your professor Jeremiah Valeska talked about the upcoming project in the class. Your nails clacking against the keyboard and his monotonous voice were the only sounds that reached your ears as you diligently took notes. Even though you had pulled another all-nighter and your veins were practically filled with coffee at this point, you sat up straight in your chair and leaned forward. Your eyes never once strayed from the redheaded man pointing to past examples of designs taped up on the board.

Jeremiah Valeska was one of the most renowned professors at Gotham College of Architecture and Design. Even though he was young to have already made such a name for himself in his profession (he was in his mid-twenties), he was well known for being commissioned to redesign the Wayne Enterprises building in uptown Gotham and creating the world’s most challenging indoor labyrinth. It was practically impossible to navigate without having a map of the layout. When you first heard you were going to take a class from him, you were extremely excited, but a good amount nervous as well. You had looked up to him and respected his work for years.

Now, you’ve had him as a professor for a good while, and he lived up to his name. He wasn’t without his narcissistic and egotistical moments, but you could imagine being hailed as an architectural genius and a prodigy probably got to your head. Overall, he was a good teacher and you enjoyed learning from him. He inspired you, and even when the college workload was overwhelming for you sometimes, he reminded you why you had chosen this career in the first place.

“You can turn in your designs to me from now until next Friday. Any late work will automatically get a zero, and please remember that this project counts for fifteen percent of your final grade.” He glanced down at the thick leather watch around his wrist. “Class dismissed.”

The other students in the lecture hall stood from their seats, shoving their laptops into their bags. You followed suit before walking down the stairs, keeping your head low. Jeremiah walked over to his desk, and some of the girls in the class crowded around him as they usually did after every lesson. They asked him questions as they batted their lashes and bit their bottom lips, clearly infatuated. You weren’t surprised. He was the youngest professor in the college and didn’t have a ring on his finger, which automatically made him the most sought after.

He answered their questions to the best of his ability before shooing them away with a wave of his hand. They headed for the exit, shoulders slumped and frowning in disappointment. You hugged some textbooks you were carrying for some other classes close to your chest and trailed after them. You were just about to duck out of the lecture hall when Jeremiah’s clear voice came from behind you.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), could I talk to you for a moment?”

You spun around on your heel to face him. “I’m sorry I haven’t turned in my project yet,” you blurted. “I’m taking my time on it.” You were quick to close the distance between you two, walking over to his desk.

Confusion flitted over his face for a moment before he chuckled. “That’s all right. I did say you had until next Friday, didn’t I?”

You mentally cursed yourself for jumping to conclusions. You had been so on edge recently. You were attending Gotham College for Architecture and Design on a full tuition scholarship, and although you were grateful, the requirements for maintaining that scholarship were high. You had to have an A- or above in every class, and adhering to that standard kept you busy.

He leaned back against his desk. “I know you probably have another class to get to, but I just wanted to give you the recognition you’re owed. You’re a very talented and hardworking student, one of the best I’ve had in a long time.”

The corners of your lips tugged upwards into a radiant smile at his words. “Thank you, Mr. Valeska.” You felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders at hearing one of your idols praise you. You thought he barely knew you were in his class at all. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Well, you have a bright future ahead of you.” He pushed off of his desk and stepped closer to you. “Why don’t we talk about it over a cup of coffee later? All that the future has in store for you.”

He was so close to you now, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. The scent of his aftershave mingling with his cologne was overwhelming and invaded your senses. Your breath hitched. He couldn’t be insinuating what you thought he was. Was your mind playing tricks on you, or was your architecture professor actually asking you out?

You smiled at him sheepishly. “Oh, I don’t know...”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “Please, it would be my treat.”

“I have kind of a tight schedule.” You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

His lips curled into a smirk. “I’m sure you do.” Something about his tone sent shivers down your spine. “I bet it gets lonely, being a straight A student and all.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, his gaze boring into you. “I could make you a little less lonely.”

Goosebumps raised on your skin at his gentle touch. So your suspicions were confirmed. You had to admit, he was attractive. His pale skin complimented his red hair, and his round glasses accentuated the crystal blue of his irises. It was easy to see why so many of his students fell for him. But he was your professor; you had never thought of him as anything more. And you could only imagine what would happen to your scholarship if you went out with your professor, let alone the damage to your reputation.

You stepped out of his grasp. “I... don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Valeska.”

You dared to raise your head to find him looming over you, his eyes locked with yours. There was something dark lurking in the murky depths of his eyes. His lips pressed into a straight line, and his jaw ticked. A single vein creased the otherwise smooth, creamy skin of his forehead, and your jaw dropped at how fast his pulse was racing. For a second, it looked like he was going to snap, and you would be in even worse trouble than if you had just accepted his offer of a harmless, little coffee date. But then, he took a step back, and his expression softened.

“Yes, I suppose that was a little out of line of me.” To your surprise, his tone sounded as cool and even as it always did. He smoothed the fabric of his purple button up out with his hands. “I hope I didn’t cause you any discomfort.”

You let out a sigh of relief, your body going lax. You hadn’t even realized you had become so tense. “You didn’t. I... better get going before I’m late.” You backed away shyly. “I’ll see you next class, Mr. Valeska.”

“Goodbye, Ms. (Y/L/N). I meant what I said. You’re one of my smartest students; you always make the right decisions.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a small smile coming over his face. “I look forward to seeing what you come up with for your design.”

You hurried out of the lecture hall without another word and spent the next week working on your project. You spent every free moment you had on it, staying up all night and waking up early in the morning to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. One slip up was all it would take to cost you your scholarship, so there was no room for error. You didn’t have many friends, but you’d much rather spend nights holed up in your dorm room studying than going to parties. You were sure your roommate thought you were a ghost. However, you did find yourself every now and then missing out on the desired college lifestyle. Jeremiah was right about one thing: being a straight A student was lonely.

You handed your project in the last day it was due, brimming with pride. You had a good feeling about it. After working on it for so long and all of Jeremiah’s words to you, you were sure you were going to earn a good grade.

“All right, class.” It was a week later, and Jeremiah stood at the front of the lecture hall, his arms full of blueprints. “I’ve finished grading your projects, and I’ll pass them back to you, as long as I don’t get any questions about your grades. If you have any complaints, you can see me after class.”

He went down the rows, handing each student their design. You scanned their faces as they looked down to assess their grades. Some of them twisted their lips into a frown, some smiled smugly to themselves, and some maintained blank expressions. You were in the very back row by yourself as usual, so you were the last one to get your project. You smiled at Jeremiah as he approached you, but he barely looked at you as he set your design down in front of you. He turned away and walked back to the front of the class.

You furrowed your brow. Odd. But who would Jeremiah Valeska be if he wasn’t odd? You looked down at the square sheet of graph paper in front of you. It was placed face down, and you turned it over. Your eye was immediately drawn to the number written in red pen on top and circled twice.

31%

Wait, you couldn’t have read that right. You squinted at the paper as you looked at it again, but it was still there, written in neat handwriting. How was this possible? You had slaved over this project, poured hour after hour of work into it. It may not have been perfect, but there was no way it was deserving of a thirty-one percent.

You could feel panic rising inside of you as realization settled in. If this was in fact your grade, that meant you had failed, and this project made up fifteen percent of your total grade, which meant that you could get perfect scores on the rest of your assignments and still not get an A- for the year, which meant that you would lose your scholarship...

Oh, my God. He was punishing you for not going out with him.

Your hands curled into clenched fists, any dread you had before replaced by unadulterated rage. Jeremiah had moved onto a new lesson, but you were too in a daze to pay attention. Your brain was flooded with multiple emotions at once. How could he abuse his power like this? And just because you hadn’t returned his advances? How childish could he be?

You were so absorbed in your thoughts, you didn’t notice everyone else around you getting out of their seats. You shook yourself out of your trance and stood up, gathering your belongings. You waited until the other students filed out of the door to charge towards Jeremiah. You tugged on the strap of your messenger bag and slammed your project onto his desk in front of him.

“What the hell is this?” you seethed through gritted teeth.

He looked up from where he was typing away on his laptop. “Your grade, Ms. (Y/L/N).” He feigned oblivion. “I thought that would be obvious.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I know that’s my grade, but I put a lot of effort into this project.” You gestured down to the red print on the graph paper. “There is no way I could’ve earned this.”

He pushed the frames of his glasses up the bridge of his nose and glanced down at your project. “Well, for starters, all of the measurements are incorrect.”

You clenched your jaw. “That’s impossible.” You had checked those measurements ten times over.

“Maybe take this as a life lesson, Ms. (Y/L/N). We don’t always get what we think we deserve.” He flashed you a forced smile before focusing back on his laptop screen.

You didn’t move as he resumed typing. You stayed glued to the spot, eyes burning a whole in him. Your voice sliced through the silence that had enveloped you, “Is this because I didn’t go on a date with you?”

His hands froze, his long, thin fingers hovering over the keys. “That’s a bold accusation, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

“Well, this is a big deal. I could lose my scholarship.” You shifted your weight onto your other foot. “I would hate to have to report you to the administration.”

He spun around in his desk chair to face you at last, cracking an amused smirk. “You’re going to report one of the faculty’s most highly revered professors for giving you a bad grade over a conversation that may or may not have happened?”

Hearing it out loud, you realized how ridiculous it sounded. Jeremiah had a spotless reputation. If it came down to your word against his, and you knew it would, no way would they believe you over him. They would just take you for a silly, little college girl who was miffed about not getting everything handed to her on a silver platter.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine, you win. I’ll write more papers, I’ll clean your office, whatever it takes. I just can’t lose my scholarship. I’ll do anything.”

He pressed his hands against the arms of his chair and rose to his feet. You took a sharp breath as he towered over you. “Anything?” His tone was abnormally deep.

You hesitated before nodding your head. He raised his hand to run his cold fingertips over your chin. You stiffened under his touch, tingles shooting down your spine. He leaned down so his lips were right next to your ear.

“You can show how much of a good girl you are for your professor by getting on your knees,” he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he spoke.

Your lips parted in shock. You raised your head to meet his eyes, and let out a quiet gasp at what you saw. His pupils were blown wide with lust, his irises reduced to mere rims like the eyes of a shark when it smells blood in the water. The blue of his eyes had darkened to the shade of the murky depths of the ocean, or the cloudy sky during a thunderstorm. His touch was just as electric.

You took a step back, causing his fingers to leave your chin. “You can’t be serious...” You hated how small your voice sounded.

He dropped his arm to his side. “Why not? You said you were willing to do anything.”

“You’re forcing me to suck you off so I don’t lose my scholarship,” you stated bluntly.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything.” His tone was cold and unfeeling and emotionless. “I’m offering you a choice. What you choose is up to you.”

Yeah, and some kind of choice it is. You took your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t really have any other option. “And if I do go through with it...”

“I promise to change your grade to a hundred percent for the project, therefore saving your grade,” he offered. “But that all depends on you.” He was back in your space again, pushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face and cupping your cheek. “Now do you want to be my good girl?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip anxiously. Mustering what was left of your dignity, you nodded, and within an instant, his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened in surprise. He moved his lips against yours, and your nerve endings were set on fire. You wished you could say that you despised the kiss, but you found yourself enjoying the way his soft, warm lips felt on yours. You fluttered your eyes closed and parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. You quickly relinquished dominance and let him control the kiss.

He pulled away and gazed down at you. You were flushed and out of breath, your lips red and swollen. You felt your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment at how obvious it was that you had enjoyed kissing him. “I don’t do this with my students, you know.” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “But there’s something special about you. I just can't put my finger on it,” he grinned, “but I will.”

He moved his hands to rest on your shoulders and pressed down. You let him and fell to your knees in front of him. You stared up at him wearily as he pulled down the zipper on his pants. He pulled his cock out of his pants, and you blinked. He was already hard and easily the biggest you had ever seen. You had no idea how you were supposed to fit all of him in your mouth.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Go ahead, Ms. (Y/L/N).” He moved forward so the head of his cock poked your lips. “Don’t just stare at it.”

You let out a small sigh. Let’s get this over with. You reluctantly stuck out your tongue to taste him, his precum coating your tastebuds. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock. You closed your eyes, listening as his breath caught in his throat. You wrapped your lips around him and set a slow pace as you bobbed up and down on his length.

“Use your hand, Ms. (Y/L/N).” His voice was strained and breathy. You did as he said and wrapped your fingers around the base of his shaft. You worked your way down his length and pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand. “Look at me.” Your eyes snapped open at his command, and you looked up to see him leering down at you. You made it about halfway down his cock before you felt the back of your throat closing up. You stayed content with this until Jeremiah said, “Relax your throat.”

You took a deep breath through your nose and tried to listen to his instructions. You moved down a little farther, but immediately regretted it when you felt your gag reflex acting up. You pulled back, but before you could get him out of your mouth, he threaded his fingers through your hair. He yanked you down his length at the same time he thrust into your mouth, shoving more of him down your throat than you were used to. You gagged, your throat painfully constricting around his cock, and pushed at his hips to get away from him. He easily ignored your efforts, however, and fucked your mouth at a rapid pace.

“That’s it,” he groaned, leaning his head back. “I knew you were a fast learner. Oh!” he exclaimed as he fully sheathed himself inside of your mouth, burying your nose in the nest of pubic hair at the base of his shaft.

Your jaw ached desperately, and your throat burned as he stuffed his cock into your mouth. His fingers held your hair so tightly as he tugged your head up and down his length, you were sure he would tear some strands from your scalp. Tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, mixing with the blend of saliva and precum dribbling from your chin. You wanted to cry or scream, but any noise you made came out as a gurgle around his cock. You sucked in breaths of air through your nose, but it wasn’t enough to fill your lungs. Black dots started to form over your vision, and you prayed he finished before you passed out. You felt like a sex doll being used and abused all for his pleasure.

Finally, he pulled you off of his length, and you gasped for air. You sat back on your heels, whimpering softly. You hadn’t expected him to treat you so roughly. Panic and confusion filled you once again, however, when you realized his hand was still in your hair and he hadn’t cum yet.

“You didn’t think that was all I wanted, did you?” He pulled you to your feet by your hair, and you yelped. He untangled his hand from your hair only to shove you so you bent over the edge of his desk.

“Jeremiah, stop!” You pressed your hands flat against his desk and tried to push yourself up, but he pinned you down with one hand on your back.

“That’s Mr. Valeska to you,” he growled. He made quick work of your jeans and panties, pulling them down your legs. They fell to your ankles, leaving you completely exposed to him. “Don’t you want to work for your grade, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

You glanced nervously at the door to the lecture hall out of the corner of your eye. It was still unlocked. Anyone could enter or walk by and see your architecture professor fucking you on his desk. “What if someone hears us?” you said, hoping he would come to his senses.

Your hopes were squashed, however, when you felt him line up with your entrance. “Better be quiet, then.”

He pushed into you much deeper than you were ready for, and you hissed like a pissed off cat. Your walls painfully constricted around the foreign member penetrating you. “Ow!” you whined. “You’re hurting me!”

He didn’t let up. “You’ll get used to taking me.” You didn't like the intention behind his statement, but he impaled you again, and your mind went fuzzy like tv static.

He wasted no time rutting into you at an inhumanly fast pace, stretching your pussy with each snap of his hips against yours. Your body jolted, and you grabbed onto the lip of the desk to steady yourself, your knuckles turning white. The noise of your bodies banging against the desk in time with his thrusts, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, and his animalistic grunts echoed in the spacious lecture hall. A bump against the desk sent his coffee mug hurtling over the side, shattering into a thousand ceramic pieces and staining the white tile with dark brown liquid. He didn’t seem to care. Your head fell limp on the desk as the harsh treatment of your pussy continued, and you found yourself staring down at your project. Your cheek stuck to it, and leftover saliva on your chin besmirched the otherwise stark graph paper.

He leaned over so his chest was pressed against your back, your ribs digging into the desk with every thump. “Tell me how it feels,” he whispered right into your ear.

You arched your back against him and threw your head back. “So... so good!” Your voice sounded strange to your own ears. It was high-pitched and wracked with pleasure.

“So good what?” He reached around to rub your clit at the same pace he pounded into you.

You felt the beginning of a painful orgasm twisting in the pit of your stomach. “So good, Mr. Valeska!” Your volume increased, and so did the intensity in your gut. A few more thrusts, and you were done for. Your pussy clenched down on his cock as he forced an orgasm out of you, a high-pitched wail escaping your raw throat.

His fingers dug into your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, leaving bruises you were sure you would see in the mirror later. You felt his hips hinder as he exploded inside of you, painting your walls with his seed. He let out a low groan, hunching his shoulders and curving his spine. He thrust into you a few more times to get all of his cum out before pulling out of you.

With him no longer holding you up, your knees buckled, and you collapsed on top of the desk, your limbs limp and lifeless. Your chest heaved up and down, and your body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Your matted, greasy hair clung to your forehead, and your face was coated with dried up saliva and tears. You felt absolutely used to the fullest extent, but also somehow satisfied as you came down from your high.

“You definitely earned your A, Ms. (Y/L/N).” Jeremiah’s voice was soft as he rubbed gentle circles over your clit, sending pleasurable aftershocks rippling through you. You felt his cum drip out of your pussy and run down your thighs. “I look forward to working with you more in the future.”

Your ears pricked up, and you lifted your head off of the desk, despite how your sore muscles ached in complaint. “I thought this was the only time.” You looked at him over your shoulder.

“Not if you want to keep your good grade, it’s not.” He fixed his slightly askew glasses before leaning forward and pecking your cheek. “But you made the right choice. You certainly are my brightest student.”