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lady-assnali · 1 year

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Modern Anarcia!! Well, it’s Anarcia coded. Marcia seeks advice from her big sister Jan because things seem to be moving along with Anetra, and Marcia’s kind of a mess in the romance department. This is what happens before they all get to meet Anetra

(Set in the teacher/baby model/manhattan au. Somewhere before I know i said said they were cousins, just ignore that. I’ll find it and change it later bc it’s truly drag queen fanfic it’s really not that deep)

“Janny!” The blonde looks up to find her sister standing at her door, staring down at her with her big, restless eyes

“How’d you get in?”

“Rosie let me in on her way out!” She saunters into the bedroom like she owns the place, as she’s apt to do in any given situation. Marcia’s a flurry of pastel and a wide, giddy grin. She’s holding two cups of iced coffee, extending one to Jan with a flourish.

“What do you need?” The older sister is amused, but knows this routine enough to understand that Marcia will probably be leaving here with an article of clothing or a snack that she didn’t have before. Her tone is kind yet pointed, but Marcia is barely phased by it. She flops onto Jan’s bed, lays on her back with her phone clutched to her chest.

“What if I told you that the girl I’ve been seeing wants to come to the show next week?”

Jan perks up at this, putting down her work in favor of giving her undivided attention to the blonde on her bed. Marcia’s blushing, holding her phone above her face with both hands while rapidly tapping on the screen.

“So it’s going okay?”

“Oh, it’s going more than okay.” Marcia smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. This piques Jan’s interest; Marcia’s been a hopeless romantic from the moment she understood what romance was, a bit naïve about fat no matter how much her older sister has tried to keep her down to earth. Since her last heartbreak, she’s been uncharacteristically reserved. While it’s nice to see Marcia’s giddy smile back, alarm bells are ringing in her head. She lays down next to her sister, prying at the texts on her screen. She makes out lots of pink heart emojis on Marcia’s end before she flicks out of the app, scrunching her nose.

“You don’t need to see my texts!”

“I do if you’re thinking about bringing this girl around! I need to know more about her; you’ve barely told me anything!”

“I’ve told you plenty.” She retorts, sticking out her tongue.

“Yeah, that she’s ‘soooo hot’ and she writes little hearts on your coffee cup now?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And you have nothing else to say to me?”

“Just a question.”

“Okay, good. Yeah. That’s what I’ve been expecting. What’s up?”

“What about holidays?” Marcia sighs. She thumbs aimlessly through Instagram, careful not to like any of the posts the further back she gets.

“What?”

“The holidays! She’s from Vegas, she’s not from here! She’s just here helping a friend get her business off the ground, then she’s leaving. Mom and dad will have a fit if she wants to spend Christmas in Vegas, and I can’t get in the middle of that because of course I’m going to choose our family. But have you seen her?”

She hangs the phone over her sister’s face, a more recent picture up on the screen. It’s cute enough; she’s pouting at the camera, stuck in a huddle of friends all wearing merch from the same dance studio. Jan makes a mental note to stalk the page further, to look for more intel while her little sister’s prying eyes won’t suspect anything.

“Jan, waking up next to that on Christmas morning?”

“Whoa, Marsh. Listen to yourself for a minute! You quite literally just met this girl. Like…yesterday you met her.” Jan pushes the phone back to Marcia, who cradles it in her hands for a moment before dropping it on the bed. She huffs, and Jan can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

“We met last week, actually. And I can’t visualize a future for myself but you can act the way you did around Jackie because…”

“Because I wasn’t creating scenarios in my head instead of just going for it.”

“What if she’s not into me?”

Jan laughs then, shifts over a bit to stare her down. It’s not every day that her infallible little sister gets shaken up by something, and it’s humorous to imagine a world in which somebody wouldn’t be charmed by her. She’s cute; thin, blonde, and talented. They were born and raised in a family where charm and charisma were practically taught before any basic life skills, so she knows that Marcia carries herself in a way that makes people love her instantly. It’s the same kind of charm she’s been lucky enough to be told that she has; just that something. If that something isbeing born into money and made to go to all kinds of boring parties and play a part in the family dynamic? Sure, genetics play a big part of it but money definitely helps. Nobody actually needs to know that, though.

“Mar, honey, look at yourself in a mirror. If she’s not into you she’s an idiot.”

“Maybe I’m just not her type.”

“Well, you won’t know until you shoot your shot hun.” She sits up then, crosses her legs and turns to face Marcia. She’s serious now, all the humor and jests set aside. Marcia meets her eyes, then has to look away. She’s giving her the ‘sister stare,’ which she’d used only a few times before; when Marcia had come out to her, when she’d been busted sneaking out to the club, and when she’d gone through her first real breakup. All three events had Jan buckling in to this higher powered sisterhood, and Marcia’s not sure she can emotionally handle a big speech right now, especially when she has to start thinking about how to prepare Anetra for meeting her sister. It doesn’t matter. When Jan’s on a heart-healing tangent, nothing can stop her.

“I need you to tell yourself you’re worth it and to do something as soon as you can. Because what happened when you had your lesbian awakening with Aura wasn’t cute or fun at all. We’re not gonna make a habit out of making scenarios in our head and destroying our hearts when it doesn’t work out. That’s not you.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“I’m your sister, I’m here to give you the truth even if you don’t want to hear it. And all I really meant was that you’re way too smart and confident and hot to let this get into your head.”

“So tomorrow I just do what…walk up to her and say ‘hey I think you’re super hot and I’m really into you.’ And see how long it takes for her to run?”

“Just be yourself. Be yourself, but flirt. You’re not asking her to marry you you’re just looking to date and see how things go.”

“What about Christmas though? I was serious.” Jan throws her hands in the air, then thinks twice and grabs one of the fluffy throw pillows on the bed. Chucking the pillow isn’t enough; she hits Marcia a few times, playfully groaning in frustration.

“Oh my god, Marsh. We’ll talk about that if we need to. You don’t even know if she celebrates Christmas, or what her family’s even like! If this goes well I’ll have you talk to Crystal about it. She and Geeg have been doing long distance for a little while now and they haven’t had any problems, she’ll know what to do.”

“So…”

“So stop making this a big deal! Jeez! You meet this girl tomorrow, you do your little date. Worst case scenario you get a good meal and a nice walk and you get to look at her ass for a couple of hours. Best case, you walk out with a girlfriend. Either way, it seems like a pretty solid day to me.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll take the advice. Just know that if this goes south I’ll be here right after to wallow for a few days.”

“If it goes south, you deserve better anyway. You’re not going to wallow because you’re probably too good for her anyway.”

“I don’t think I am, though.”

“I’ll let you know when this goes well and she comes to the show. We’ll put her through the test, don’t even worry about it.”

“Yeah, the tone of your voice is super promising.” Marcia kicks her legs over the side of the bed, gets up with a renewed sense of pep in her step. She flings her hair over her shoulders, shooting off a text with one hand while gathering her bag. “Thanks, Janny. I’ll see you this weekend for rehearsal?”

“You’ll text me the second you get home from your date.” The older sister narrows her eyes in warning, to which Marcia just laughs.

“Okay, mom, I’ll text you.”

“Good luck!”

“Don’t need it!” Marcia leaves with one last wave through the door and Jan can only shake her head at her sister’s antics, glad that her nerves seem to have died down a bit.

An hour before Marcia’s set to leave for her date, Jan’s pacing around the kitchen with seemingly no agenda whatsoever. From the living room, Jackie watches as the blonde takes out several ingredients only to put them back in the cabinet moments later. Then she stands, hands on her hips, and flips through the one cook book they have before reassembling the same ingredients in a neat line across the counter. It’d be endearing if Jackie didn’t know Jan for what she was underneath all of the positivity and her sunshine smile; a worrier.

Jan takes out her phone, types and retypes until she settles on something to say. There isn’t much time left. She pictures her sister standing in the teeny little bathroom of the cramped student housing she and Jax share, probably blasting some Ariana Grande remix while she’s getting ready. She can feel the excitement, the hope, the anxiety. It makes her want to rush over there and hug her. She settles on something simple instead.

Have fun, be safe. Love you!

The text bubble pops up and leaves twice before Marcia’s message rolls in, Jackie peeking over Jan’s shoulder to read along with her.

Hopefully not too safe! ;) love you too sis

“She’ll be fine.” Jackie hugs Jan from behind, presses their cheeks together. Her mission is accomplished when the blonde tips her head back to kiss her, holds Jackie’s hands in place.

“If that girl says one wrong thing to my sister,”

“-then we’ll deal with it. She’s going to make mistakes before she finds out what she likes. We didn’t find each other on the first try.”

“Nope.” Jan scoffs, pops the p to emphasize just how wrong the mere idea of finding Jackie right away is. She’d been through her own circles of lesbian hell before she’d stumbled upon her, and she’s positive that the timing was fate playing its game the right way.

“Wasn’t it worth it?”

“Can’t you just let me fantasize about taking this girl out before you get all sappy with me?”

“Not a chance. We’re saving the kicking ass fantasies for if this doesn’t go well.”

“I really hope it does.” Jan spins around in Jackie’s arms, kissing her sweetly. “This was definitely worth it.”

#Anarcia #it’s a little one before we get the chaos of big sister Jan meeting Anetra for the first time #Big sister Jan and honorary big sisters Rosie and Lagoona #Manhattan au #Manhattan multiverse

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cerebricarchives · 10 months

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Fly It High

*After failing to enter the front door of the household of Caleb Ramos, where a TOJ Code Orange threat is taken place, Green Thunder tries the backdoor by going over the stone molded fence to the pool, to which he falls flat on his ass.*

⚡: AH DAMN! Augh...walk it off, boy. Walk it....huh.

*Green Thunder notices the pool needed some cleaning work, as weird pale creatures are surfaced on the pool, looking like veiny worms with dozens of legs, all of them not moving. GT gets up to investigate the pile of odd bodies, even getting a pool net and foolishly pokes at them.*

⚡: Well whatever the hell happened...damn seemed like an agent already got here. The hell are these th-

*In a smashing instance, a window from the second story breaks through with a worm creature plopped on the floor. In a moment it scurries it's little legs around, finding it's footing as Green Thunder is taking it lightly*

⚡: EUGH what the FUCK! The HELL is that goddamn thing!? No no no, I'm out, I'm-

*In a second instance, a man donning a bright shining blue armor jumps out of the window and lands right on his feet next to the crawling creature. Green Thunder backs up as the man swings a battle axe glowing with green and blue neon lights onto the floor, slicing the creature in half, all the while he gutturally screams in a thick Gaelic accent. As he kicks the pieces off to the pool, he looks up and notices the man in the green suit piece of tech, scared shitless.*

🪓: This doesn't concern you, false knight! Go back to your little cave.

⚡: Whoa okay. Time out, time out. =doing the time out gesture= Hold up, what the hell, what's going on? What happened here?

🪓: Star Spawns happened.

⚡: What?

🪓: =points battle axe to the pile of bodies soaking in the chloride dyed pool= Least I remind you of the Ancient's ways, corrupted by the master, where meteor showers or aurora borealis happen, the stars fall upon the Earth. You're lucky enough I showed up, otherwise your Trinity of Justice would have to keep them alive before they turn into worse beings.

⚡: =squats down eyeing the monsters= They look like the XenoQueen got it on with the Eraserhead baby...well you know when it was grown up and uh...well anyways if it will make you feel better I'm not with the ToJ. I'm on my own here, and I'd have to assume you are too?

🪓: I'm different from you, wandering warrior.

⚡: Right well I bet you heard about a Code Orange Threat here. Caleb Ramos, a professor from Riverstone University. Advanced biology but toyed around with making house flies the literal size of houses some dozen years ago. What made you so special that you happened by the area?

🪓: Fool that you are to misunderstand what's going on. If I may properly introduce myself, I am the combined son of Odin and Zeus. I was chosen by the true Heirs of the Ancients to protect the planet from The Master's plan to corrupt you beings much like he did with the Ancients. Wielding the Axe of All Knowns, Armor of the Southern Isles and power gifted from the True Heirs to undo the Master's plan, I am Thy Neon Viking!

*A breif pause happens as Green Thunder has to collect what this cosplayer has ranted in the past minute*

⚡: So...where's Caleb?

*Thy Neon Viking points his axe once again to the pile of bodies, especially to one where it's belly looks full.*

⚡: =Shakes head= Okay, I don't know what kind of nut job thing you got goin' on pal, but right now we got anomalies in the pool, an MIA civilian and by any moment an actual agent is gonna come by and for our sakes, pin this on the both of us. You and I gotta zip.

🪓: In a moment. =Turns around to the glass sided back door= There maybe some more Star Spawns. I'll hold them off back, you can just go.

⚡: You know I kind of realize something....out there in the drive way there was a station wagon. Looked pretty gritty, with a mismatched door. With a big screen TV at the back. =Looks over Neon Viking's shoulder, peering through the glass door to see a pretty bad scuffle. Tossed chairs, weird black goo on the walls, a nice clean outline where a TV would be hanging on the wall= So what's going on?

🪓: Hey like I said, Viking business. Okay so what, I broke the screen. You know what they say...uh...always recyle!

⚡: Buddy....=takes a big whiff= yeah that's skunk weed al-

*In a flashed moment Neon Viking jabs his fist to Green Thunder's stomach, whereas he holds onto the impact, putting his legs together and falls right by the poolside. Groaning in pain, Neon Viking runs right out to the door, smashes right through the glass door and goes through the spacious fancy household with his battle axe grinding through the floor, more like he's dragging it behind.*

==============================================\\\\\

#heroes die #A01 #creative writing #superhero #scifi

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solalunar-eclipse · 1 year

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Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Rainbow Weave (Spamton)

AO3 Link

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter.

It had been about a week and a half since Spamton had moved back in with his old department. As he’d expected, everything was very tense and awkward as they all got used to living together again after so long.

The others were all trying their best, to be fair. Honestly, Addisons were notoriously terrible at dealing with things like feelings, preferring to push them down and get on with work instead, so it was genuinely impressive that they were trying at all.

Mags and Pay were both a little overly eager to please, but Spamton wasn’t going to complain about that. Click had nearly slipped several times, though, shutting his mouth audibly each time he almost insulted Spam—with a look of horror on his face to boot. His attempts were still appreciated anyhow, since at least he was making an effort. Vid was probably handling all of this the best, both because of the strength of their relationship and because he’d had the longest to spend with this new Spamton.

But none of them at all knew how to react to his nightmare near the end of the first week.

He’d woken up from a horrible dream about strings and ringing phones screaming bloody murder, sending all the other Addis rushing to his room in a panic. When they’d found him glitching out and sobbing, babbling about Heaven, none of them had really known what to do. They’d all offered plenty of reassurances, and Vid had hugged him tightly, but not a single one of them could understand what on earth he was going on about.

Spam wasn’t sure if he wanted them to.

If it meant they’d end up like him, he definitely didn’t.

Unfortunately, despite his deepest wishes, he found his department and “freedom” lives clashing more and more as time went on. This manifested in a variety of small ways, such as his glitching censoring his speech (at times to the point where the others had to ask for clarification, while looking quite distressed) or his twitchiness when it came to talking about anything related to manipulation, as well as whenever the telephone rang.

However, it also appeared in one massive, glaring, in-your-face, annoying way on this day in particular.

Spamton had just been hanging out with Vid, the two of them goofing off a bit while the latter tried to sell their wares to passersby, when the nearest television screen began blaring a terrible alarm. Even Video winced a little at that, glancing in the direction of the TV just as a news bulletin came on. The reporter onscreen looked messy and rushed, as though this hadn’t been planned in the slightest.

“Breaking news!” they exclaimed, their expression distressed. “An unidentified Darkner has begun to attack downtown Cyber City. We advise everyone currently in this location—” a map appeared on the screen, one part of it flashing red— “to evacuate immediately.”

“Shoot, that’s us!” Vid cried, jumping out of their seat. “Pack up, Spam, we’re closing early!”

Meanwhile, the reporter continued talking. “Nobody is certain exactly who this hostile Darkner is, but we do have some photos from the scene. If anyone can, we highly recommend that they do something to stop them!”

The photos flashed up on the screen, and Spamton froze.

“THAT DAMN [[It’s All In Jest!]]…” he hissed.

“Huh?” Vid asked, turning around from where they’d been closing up shop. “What’s that, Spam?”

“I GOTTA [Everything Must Go!]! SEEYA!!” Spamton called, making for the door.

“Whoa, what?” Video yelled. “You’re just gonna leave me here?”

“I HAVE TO [Stop it! Please! Stop!!] HIM!” Spam insisted.

“Wait, you want to go fight that guy?” Vid gasped. “No way, they just told everyone to evacua—”

Suddenly, their phone pinged with a message…one that made them freeze.

“Oh god. Never mind, we’re both going.”

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” the former Addison asked, startled.

“Click and Pay got trapped in Pay’s store and can’t get out! They’re both right in the middle of downtown!” Vid explained, rushing around the store at top speed and gathering their last few things.

Spamton’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “[$&*#]!! WE GOTTA [Give a helping hand]!”

“Yeah—you mind if I supersonic us there? I know it makes you feel kinda sick sometimes, but we really gotta move…” Video asked, practically vibrating in place with suppressed energy.

“DO IT.”

Seconds later, the glass windows in Vid’s store shattered as he snatched up Spamton at the speed of sound, dashing out the door and down the street towards the main downtown area. It took them less than a minute to cross nearly a mile of city blocks, but at the cost of his poor companion’s equilibrium.

The former Addi stumbled as Video set him down on the ground before racing to Pay’s storefront. “Don’t attack the rubble!” Mags cried from beside the pile (having received the same text as well, evidently), warning Video off just as he was about to summon his electricity magic.

“W-why not?!” he asked.

Mags sighed. “I already tried to knock it out of the way, but that just made the concrete fall more against the door…if you attack it right now, even more of the debris above us will just fall down.”

“Dammit…Spam, what do you think we should do?” the yellow Addi asked, turning around—but someone else interrupted before he could answer.

“UEE HEE HEE! OH, WHO COULD THAT BE, BE?”

Halfway across the square, a strange, floating jester with a J-shamped tail and a massive scythe was staring at them.

“Oh no…they’ve seen us….” Pay wheezed. “This is it, we had a good run guys, at least we got to reunite with Spamton before the end.”

“What?!” Vid yelped.

“DO MY EYES DECEIVE ME, ME? IS THAT THE LITTLE PUPPET BOY? NU-HA! HOW ABOUT WE PLAY A GAME?” the strange jester called.

“F[ind Local Health Insuarance] OFF, JEVIL!!!” Spamton barked in return.

“Jevil?” Mags muttered.

Click stared through the glass, dumbfounded. “Do you know this guy?!”

Jevil chuckled. “MY OH MY, LOOK AT THIS CROWD! ARE THESE THE FRIENDS WHO WOULDN’T HELP YOU WHEN YOUR LIFE CAME CRASHING DOWN, DOWN?”

All four Addisons flinched.

“Shut the hell up!” Vid roared, clearly furious. Pay merely squirmed uncomfortably, while Click gritted his teeth. Mags seemed unable to lift his eyes from the ground, his face twisted with shame.

Spamton rolled his eyes. “AS IF YOU WERE ANY [New And Improved], [Clown car]! AT LEAST THEY [Sincerest Apologies]!!”

“BOO HOO, BOO HOO, WHY MUST YOU TREAT ME SO?” Jevil said, expression not revealing any sadness in the slightest. “I WONDER IF YOUR FRIENDS ARE QUITE AS GOOD AT MY NUMBERS GAME AS YOU WERE…” he added, his smile growing ever wider.

“DON”T. YOU. D4RE.” Spam growled.

“UEE HEE HEE!” Jevil simply giggled.

Suddenly, without any warning at all, he shifted from laughing in the air to hurling a Devilsknife at Vid’s face so fast that even he didn’t have time to react.

Pay screamed, while Click and Mags began to rush forward, unable to do anything but desperate regardless. Vid barely managed to raise his arms, flinching in terror—

—until the Devilsknife clattered to the ground several feet in front of him, having been stopped in its tracks.

Between him and the scythe was a gleaming, ocean-colored wing, with a grey talon atop its main joint. Said wing (and its sunset-shaded counterpart) was currently attached to a massive humanoid robot body, mainly pink and purple with a yellow triangle set into its chest…and with Spamton’s face.

“Uh……” Vid said articulately.

“What?!?” Click shrieked, his voice a blend of awe and outrage. “Since when??!??”

Spamton snickered, clearly pleased with himself (and slightly relieved that his transformation had been received much more positively than he’d expected). “YA LIKE [Neo], [Clickbait]?”

“Does he like what now?” Mags asked, his voice somewhat shaky.

“NEO!! MY [New Packaging, Same Great Flavor] BODY!” Spam declared proudly. “IT’S [One of a kind]!”

“HUZZAH, AT LAST, A TRUE CHALLENGE!” Jevil cried, making Spamton NEO sigh in exasperation. “LET THE GAMES BEGIN, BEGIN!”

The robot-angel caught the first thrown Devilsknife in his hand, before springing into action. One of his hands morphed into a laser cannon, firing bright blasts at Jevil. In turn, the jester summoned card suit bullets that shot in all directions, seemingly impossible to dodge.

Yet Spamton was holding his own against the Darkner who had single-handedly ravaged part of the city, leaving the other four Addis staring (and in Mags’s case, slack-jawed). Explosions rocked the ground, and at one point a…carousel even appeared?

Suddenly, Click happened to notice something that nearly left him reeling. “Oh my god, he’s doing it all in heels! That’s not even fair!” he cried, equal parts stunned and envious.

Vid snickered, before shouting, “Hell yeah, Spam! Get him!!”

Spamton merely winked, exceptionally pleased with the impact he was having on the other Addisons. Unfortunately for him, his attention was soon drawn back to the battle, so he wasn’t able to showboat any longer. (Although perhaps this was good for Click, who might’ve exploded with pent-up jealousy if he had continued in this vein.)

Soon enough, Jevil’s attacks began to ramp up in intensity, forcing Spamton to focus harder if he wanted to maintain an equal comeback. But the spades and diamonds moved so quickly, it was taking everything he had just to keep them from battering his armor—

—and then the largest Devilsknife he’d seen yet slammed directly into him, smashing him backwards into the nearest building.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” Vid screamed, shaking with pent-up energy.

They and Mags raced to stand between Jevil and Spamton, the yellow Addi summoning pop-up screens in an effort to shield them from any further attacks. Meanwhile, Mags began frantically to try and heal Spam, his hands shaking all the while.

“H3Y, [[Magazine Cover]], 1’LL BE [Right As Rain!] SO0N ENOUGH. DON’T [[Worried About Your Savings?]] ME!!” Spamton insisted, trying to stand once again.

“No, wait!” Mags cried. “You’re still hurt!”

“[[&]]?” Spam asked, clearly unconcerned.

“I…I don’t…I don’t want you to get hurt more.”

The robot’s expression softened at that. “…RE4LLY?”

“Of course!” Mags insisted.

“Uh, guys?” Vid called. “Really touching moment you’re having there, I love it, but I can’t hold off this guy much longer!”

Back in the shop, Click was practically crushed against the storefront, wishing he could go out and help. At that moment, though, he remembered something…

“Hey, Pay? Can’t your shields work through this glass?”

The orange Addison blinked. “Oh. Duh.” he said, covering his eyes with one hand.

Click sighed. “Oh my god…”

Moments later, personalized orange shields popped up around each of the three Addisons in the line of fire. Vid beamed and gave a thumbs-up over to the store, while Mags sighed in relief. Now that the blue Addi could focus all of his attention on Spamton, the latter was soon healed up enough to rejoin the fight (much to Vid’s relief, since he couldn’t hold his own against the clown for long).

With the battle now being three on one, the tide turned easily. Soon enough, Spamton had snatched up Jevil by the collar of his jester outfit, practically snarling in his face. “DON’T YOU EVER. COME HERE. AGAIN.”

Jevil rolled his eyes. “OH, PUPPET BOY, YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T STOP ME!”

“WE’LL [[Look and See!]] ABOUT THAT.” he growled. Snapping his arm into a cannon (with Jevil preloaded inside), he fired the jester over the horizon and back to his own realm faster than an Addison could get to a new customer.

“Wow.” Vid said, beaming uncontrollably.

“Hey! We’re still here too, you know!” Click yelled, pounding on the glass (probably starved for some attention more than anything).

Spamton sized up the situation for a moment, before walking over and holding up the roof so it wouldn’t collapse while the rest of the rubble was cleared out. After that, it was easy enough to push the debris away and set the two trapped Addis free. In the meantime, he provided a cursory explanation of how he’d gotten this new body (to the general effect of ‘saw it in a basement, the Lightners helped me get it’, not omitting the part where it was stolen as well but neglecting to mention how he’d attacked said Lightners).

Throughout all of this, Mags had been staring strangely at Spam, to the point where Vid had needed to call his attention back to the rubble twice just to clear it away. Even now, he was gaping openly at his old friend’s new body, not even bothering to hide his expression.

“Hey Mags, the heck is up with you?” Click asked, getting straight to the point.

“H-huh?” The blue Addi started in surprise, coming back to himself. “Sorry, what? I’m perfectly fine.”

“Uh, no you’re not. You’ve been staring at Spam, like, nonstop.” Vid chimed in. “I get that…this…is all new and stuff, but even I wasn’t that distracted.”

Mags’s eyes widened. “Oh—well, I—it’s just that…”

“Just what?” Click said, clearly unconvinced.

“The colors, alright?” Mags burst out all of a sudden, raking his hands through his hair. “It’s like he’s wearing art!”

Spamton glanced over at him, smiling proudly. “I AM!! THIS [One of a kind] BODY WAS [Custom-Made] BY A LIGHTNER!”

“What?!?” Mags yelled. “You’re wearing art made by a Lightner???”

“UH, YEAH?” Spamton said, confused.

“You are coming with me and I am colorpicking my next designs directly from this, do you understand?” the blue Addison insisted. “This is not a request.”

Vid snickered. “Okay, nerd.”

“Says the guy who can name every part of a motorcycle from memory.” Mags shot back without even looking, leaving Vid wheezing and Click outright cackling, whilst Pay simply smirked.

Spamton snickered. “DON’T YOU HAVE TO [[9 to 5]], MAGS?”

“No. Work’s been canceled for the rest of the day because of this attack. Now come back to my apartment.” Mags said flatly.

“Oooooh~” Click called. “So forward, Mags!”

The blue Addi whipped around to stare at him. “I will get you assigned to a secondhand store if you say one more thing, so help me.”

Click immediately mimed zipping his mouth shut, his eyes wide.

“That’s what I thought.” Mags said.

“Hey, can I watch?” Vid asked.

“…sure, if you want to?” Mags replied, somewhat surprised.

“Oooh, we should all get dinner at the Cyber Grill after!” Pay exclaimed excitedly—and then clapped a hand over his mouth once he realized exactly what he’d suggested.

An awkward silence descended on the group of five.

After what felt like the longest moment ever, Spam spoke up. “SOUNDS [Great Deals!] TO ME! ONLY IF YOU ALL [[Buy me dinner first!]] THOUGH.”

“I can do that.” Click said, smiling faintly.

“Hey, don’t take all the credit!” Vid cried. “I’ll pay some too!”

“I’d be happy to pitch in as well.” Mags added.

Pay frowned. “I’m the one who suggested it, I can afford this.”

Spamton’s wings flared slightly, surprised. “YOU GUYS…”

Vid knew what he meant instantly. “We’re all glad to have you back! Of course we wanna pay!” They dashed forward, holding out their arms hopefully.

Suddenly, Spam stepped forward and squeezed all of them in a tight hug, grinning. “THANK YOU.”

Click writhed uncomfortably. “You’re crushing me! Let me out of here!!”

Spamton snickered, tightening his arms teasingly for just a moment before letting them go. “Now can I make my designs?” Mags asked, but he was smiling good-naturedly.

“Yeah! I wanna see!!” Vid cried.

And so, the five of them left to return to Mags’s apartment, and spend the first of what would hopefully be many afternoons enjoying each others’ company.

-------

AN: Thank you all so, so much for reading this. I sincerely hope that I've done these characters justice, and that it's at least been a fun ride, if nothing else. Thank you as well to my own personal Knight, who helped me work out some early plot points when I was basically rewriting this thing from the ground up. You know who you are. :) And lastly, I do have another fic stored up--more specifically, a browser history fic (a particular ship in this universe that I, personally, adore). It's kind of massive, though, clocking in at 11-12 thousand words...so would you all prefer to see it split up into a two-parter or have me drop the whole thing at once? Please let me know down in the comments!

#deltarune #spamton deltarune #spamton g spamton #deltarune addisons #pink addison #blue addison #yellow addison #orange addison #i hope this was a good conclusion!#they're never really my strong suit ^^;;#as long as i get permission from link's creator #then i should be able to post the browser history fic within a week or two #we'll see how things go by the time this comes out of the queue!

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deadnightcoffeetime · 1 year

Text

Nightmare-14

Chloe and Luke has arrived at the staircase, slowly sitting down as Chloe is still feeling the burning sensation. “How’s your back?”, said Luke. “Still burns.”, said Chloe. “Let me see what’s burning you.”, said Luke, Chloe places her hand held camera down, as she takes off her light jacket and removing her shirt, only leaving her bra on. “Do you see anything?”, said Chloe. He replies as he’s having a tough time seeing what it is. “Can’t tell, it’s too dark to see. Let me use the flashlight.”. Taking out his flashlight, he points it at Chloe’s back and is shocked to see something. In Luke’s wired camera screen, she’s been branded with the symbol. Like the rest of the female crew. Another 3 viewers has joined. “Whoa, that’s sick!”. “What is it?!”, said Chloe. “You’ve been branded with a symbol!, but you’re not bleeding”, said Luke. Chloe replies, as she’s concerned and shocked. “What? Show me!”. “Okay, hold up…”, said Luke. He takes a still photo on his hand held camera and shows it to her. Chloe freaks out. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!”. Luke tried to calm her down. “Calm down!”. “How can I fucking calm down, when something branded me like a cow!!”, said Chloe. “Okay, okay. Just put your shirt and jacket back on. I’ll contact Ezequio again.”, said Luke. Taking out his walkie-talkie again, he contacts Ezequio. “Ezequio, are you there?!”. Nothing but static again. Frustrated by only hearing white noise, he tries again. “Ezequio!?”. Again, only white noise. Annoyed by the white noise, Luke also decides to see Ezequio in person. “C’mon, we’re going back to Ezequio!”. Luke gets up while Chloe grabs her hand held camera, she then gets up, as both are going down the stairs.

It’s 11:15 p.m., fifteen minutes before their first break. Finishing viewing the emblem, Constance holds on the emblem, as Susan wonders if the other female crew have been branded. Taking out her walkie-talkie, she calls the other female crew. “Joanne! Chloe!”. Nothing, no response. She tries again. “Joanne! Chloe!”. Still nothing. “Fuck!…No response. I suggest we check up on the others, since we’re not getting any response.”, said Susan. “Okay.”, said Ezequio. As they’re about to leave, the piano starts playing on the background. They’ve stopped, turning around wondering who, or what, is plying the piano. In Ezequio’s wired camera screen, shows Elizabeth alongside with four ghostly deceased girls, watching her play the Moonlight Sanata.12 viewers has joined. Surprisingly their camera aren’t glitching. Nervous, scared, and shaky, the three slowly walks backwards, hoping not draw out attention. The floor creeks, making Elizabeth stop playing the piano. Each of the ghostly deceased girls looks them, making them more frighten and nervous. The sound of a small thud occurs, making Elizabeth getting up, while the ghostly deceased girls are looking at them. Ezequio turns to see what was the small thud noise. He sees Constance has bumped onto a small lamp table. He then looks back, standing in front of him is Elizabeth. Scarring him, Susan, and Constance, on the process, Elizabeth’s face feature changes to demonic again, as she walks towards them. “RUN!!”, said Ezequio. They all start to run in fear while Elizabeth is still walking to them.

Across midway of the corridor, team 2 sees they’re almost about to approach the main hall, until Elva here the sound of crackling bones. She stops and looks back, sees nothing but darkness. Joanne notices Elva isn’t next to her. She stops also, looking back to see Elva staring at the dark. Cash stops, as Joanne speaks to Elva. “Elva, why did you stop?”. “Did you hear that?”, said Elva. Joanne and Casey looks at earth other. “Heard what?”, said Joanne. “I heard bone cracking behind us…”, said Elva. “Did you said bone cracking?”, said Casey. “Yes! I heard it beyond in the sark corridor.”, said Elva. The bone cracking sounds grew rapidly louder. Casey and Joanne grabs their flashlight, pointing the light towards the dark corridor. In Casey’s wired camera screen, shows the light revealing the same 4 ghostly deceased girls and the ghostly deceased woman, that they’ve encountered earlier, but this time, one of Elizabeth’s servants is present with the ghostly deceased victims. 10 viewers has joined. The servant is standing at the center of the corridor, as the ghostly deceased woman and girl with the knife, each stand beside the servant. The other 3 ghostly deceased girls starts crawling inhumanly like a spider with the bone cracking sounds, onto the walls. Two crawls on each side of the corridor walls, and one crawls on the ceiling while the ghostly deceased woman and girl, starts jerkingly walking towards them in a fast motion with bone cracking sounds as well. Horrified, they all scream. “SHIT! RUN!”, said Casey. Joanne goes to get Elva. “C’mon, let’s go!”, said Joanne. They all start to run, as the servant stayed behind while the ghostly deceased victims are chasing them

http://www.Tumblr.com/DeadNightCoffeeTime/Nightmare-14

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peachyysugaa · 3 years

Text

scream

― youtuber!park sunghoon x streamer!gn!reader

it's hard to stream horror video games when your neighbor is always filming dangerous mukbangs and screaming.

genre: e2l, neighbors au, angst to fluff, humor

wc: 3.2k

warnings: horror game mentions, cw food and mentions of cooking live things (inspired by this youtuber), sunghoon's a jerk at first :<, one mention of underage drinking (don't follow mc's example pls fisnfkskf), a few swear words

part of my youtuber enhypen series, the last upload! feel free to read on its own! ♞──────────────────────────♞

"AAAGH!" and there it is. your brows furrow upon hearing your neighbor's cry. does he not understand how thin these walls are?! there's a reason only college students stay here! grimacing, you ignore it and move your mouse to look around the dark house.

"oh shoot, i wonder if he's behind me?" you say to your audience while watching your viewers fill the chat with your custom subscriber emojis. "i'm going to do it, everyone, just―"

"OHMYGODOHMYGOD WHYYY?!"

more like why couldn't you be quiet?! you close your eyes in frustration but attempt to keep a straight face for the people watching you. "sorry if you heard that, i guess someone's having a bad day?" you chuckle nervously as you turn around in the video game to see a black slender figure. "oh! whoa, okay, i'm just going to run over here."

you got out of the creepy house and made it to the back of it to see a piece of paper on the wall. "oh, here! okay, this is going to be my last piece unless―whoa!!" the jumpscare comes up, and you're left taken aback as the game over screen appears. laughing at your shocked self, you're filled with glee upon seeing the audience laugh or scream with you. "that was really fun, everyone. i got some homework to do though, so i'll see you all next time i stream! bye bye!" you wave goodbye to the camera and watch as the viewer number drops gradually. after a few minutes, you shut off your stream, place your headphones on its stand, and push back in your secret labs chair with a sigh. "why did i have to live next to a maniac...?" you grumble.

as if on cue, another scream is heard from the other side of the wall. "EEE! oh my god, i'm going to do it, i'm going to do it!"

what on earth was this kid doing that he was screaming every weekend? you didn't even scream that much, and you played horror games for a living! your stomach growls as you're thinking this and as a living human being, you listen to it and get up to make ramyeon. however, even as you're making your dinner and even as you're trying to enjoy it with some show playing on the tv, of course, you have to be subjected to your neighbor's loud yells. once you're finished, you notice how oddly quiet it is and decide to give whoever this guy was a piece of your mind.

marching over with your keys in hand, you knock aggressively on apartment no. 505 until it opens. behind the door is a tall male with a face so well-proportioned you're thinking it's possible that some being above sculpted it themselves. his nose is accented with one mole on the side of his nose bridge and another a few centimeters under the opposite eye. "can i help you?" his rich voice asks with a slight sting to it.

you snap yourself out of it by blinking, incredulous that you almost forgot your mission just because he has a handsome face. "yea, you can help me by being quieter," you boldly state with your arms crossed in front of your chest. "you realize you're not the only one living in this complex, right? the walls are so thin, i can hear you screaming every time."

the male raises an eyebrow at you and scoffs to the side as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "can you just deal with it? some of us have to make a living."

"news flash, dude, that's all of us! the only people who would be willing to live in this place are college students! listen, i stream horror games for my work, and i don't even scream as loud as you," you retort and point your index finger from you to him. "so i think you should learn how to keep your volume down."

"and why haven't i heard these complaints from anyone else?" he tries to debate back.

"maybe because they're just quietly tolerating you. as for me, i can't anymore, so take this as your first warning, room 505." you turn around quickly with a huff and speed to your apartment next door.

as you're above to close the door, you hear him shout back at you. "my name's park sunghoon, room 506. remember it, because i'm going to make your life a living hell."

"l/n y/n, park sunghoon. we'll see about that." with that, you both simultaneously shut your doors with a slam that causes the walls to shudder a bit.

oh, he kept his promise alright. from stare-downs in the hallway, to bringing weird live animals in the elevator at the same time you're in there, to snarky remarks at the entrance that almost always lead to fights, park sunghoon has definitely made your life hell. to make matters worse, his screaming got even louder. you're sure that's a violation of some rule, right? wrong, the management for the building doesn't care all too much, as long as he's not doing anything illegal and nobody else has complained. you get what you paid for is the right saying here.

you were not having it. as a streamer and college student, weekends are your days with the freest time, and he took that from you. you found out that he was not just a college student but a youtuber, one that filmed dangerous mukbangs with live animals that he would then cook and eat, and because of that, he had also chosen to film on weekends. that was exactly why you had always encountered his screaming on days you were streaming, and now, tired of how petty he was, you decided to just cram your weekdays with school and streaming.

at first, it was fine, but as your days became packed with more studying on the weekends at the library to avoid sunghoon, you grew tired: tired of the crammed weekdays and for god's sake, tired of living your life running away. taking out a bottle of peach soju that your upperclassman dancer friend had snuck for you, you pop it open and make your way to the balcony that you barely used.

as you take a swig of the alcoholic beverage, you prop yourself onto the railing and gaze at the buildings before you, their lights blinding you from the stars of the night sky. maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's your low energy state, but something compels you to scream. "i'm so tired!!" you yell out to the skyline. letting out a sigh, you plop down into the spare plastic chair and go for another drink.

"drinking your worries away? that's not going to solve anything," a male voice speaks up. your eyes catch sight of sunghoon, who has slid open his own balcony door. he's dressed in a casual beige hoodie and sweats as if he had spent the day just relaxing.

"as if you care," you mumble with your lips pressed against the green glass. "you're literally at the root of all my problems."

he scoffs at your statement. "this again? look, i'm getting tired of you placing all this blame on me when i'm—"

"are you so sure about that?" you calmly and sternly interrupt. the alcohol really has unlocked your usually inhibited thoughts. "why did i move my streaming days onto the weekdays when i normally spend them studying? because your screaming on the weekends always got picked up by my mic. why do i get 4 hours of sleep every day and study all night at the library on weekends?" it's like when sunghoon had taken a stick to prod at you, the floodgates burst open. you weren't stopping until you gave him a piece of your mind. "because i have to cram my streaming schedule and studying schedule to accommodate to your filming one. maybe i am blaming you, but i've tried my best to do my job all while studying and having to deal with an asshole like yourself who's so inconsiderate that he can't even do one thing for his neighbor who's practically dying to adjust their lifestyle because of someone else's."

your neighbor goes silent after that, choosing to just sigh and go back inside his apartment. you relish in the silence that comes after he shuts the door and down the rest of your bottle before heading back inside yourself. strangely after that incident, you heard less and less of sunghoon on the weekend and thus were able to return to your normal schedule. even while passing by him, he kept his mouth shut and would just nod a cordial hello. you guess what you said that night really got through to him.

and he proves that because after about three weekends, you hear a knock on your door. upon opening it, you're surprised to see sunghoon behind it, his hands behind his back as he shifts side to side. "oh, hello sunghoon," you greet him awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"hey y/n," he returns. the youtuber stops fidgeting for a moment and bows after gathering up some courage. "listen, i just want to say i'm sorry." he looks up at your face, searching for some sign of hatred and he thankfully finds none, so he continues. "i didn't realize how much of an asshole i was until you said that. i was just thinking about myself and not about you or anybody else. i hope i was able to prove it to you these past three weeks, and i promise i won't go back to my old habits."

your silence is not so reassuring, so sunghoon nervously lifts his head to peek at your face to find an astonished expression. you stammer a little bit and hold the doorframe to keep yourself in place. "u-uh... gosh, i don't know what to say, sunghoon," you stutter. then, you notice another neighbor exiting the elevator, looking at the two of you strangely since sunghoon is still lowering his head. "oh! you can stand up straight now! please."

he does as you say, smiling sheepishly, and you notice how much better he looks smiling than the usual smirks he had sent you before. "apology accepted, sunghoon."

"r-really?"

you nod. "i mean, you really have proven yourself lately, so i don't see why i shouldn't."

"great!" his smile grows wider, making you blush and look anywhere but his face. "then i have a surprise for you to start over." you shoot him a confused look that he disregards out of boyish excitement. "close up, come over to my place for a few."

"o-okay, give me a moment, i'll be right over," you say as he rushes back to his apartment. you hurriedly grab your keys and look in the mirror next to your door to smooth out your hair before you're scolding yourself for caring about looks when he literally just saw you. closing the door, you lock up, head over to room 505, and knock.

"it's open," his voice calls from inside, and with that, you push the door open to find the living space of your own apartment, except totally flipped. to your left is a small living room, complete with a two-seater couch, a tv stand, and a tv. whereas to your right, there was a dining room fit for two, the kitchen right behind it before a hallway leads to the single bedroom and bathroom. you're too busy taking in this opposite room that you don't notice the fish tank on the round table full of live fish. "come over here," he says with an enthusiastic grin.

"yah, park sunghoon. what in the world is this?" you say flabbergasted.

"i'm showing you what i do for a living and cooking you a fresh meal," is all he has to say as you grimace and reluctantly move towards him. "this is my second time cooking it, so it should go a lot better."

"and what exactly is... it?"

"mudfish, way less than what i usually have for mukbangs though." you know, you had completely forgotten what the guy did on youtube since his handsome face distracted you for a handful of moments, but now reality had set in for you: he was going to do this live in front of you.

if you're uncomfortable with cooking live fresh food, please skip to the next italicized line!

"i swear to god, park sunghoon, if you do anything stupid, consider this restart invalid. you'll be hearing from my lawyer," you unsuccessfully warn him as you watch him put on some gloves and grab a cup of salt.

"relax, you're with me. i'm practically a pro," he tries reassuring you, but then he sprinkles the salt inside the tank. the fish start splashing around violently, causing you to let out a small yelp as some splashes of water get on you. "yaaah, this is way better than last time!"

"is this what you do every weekend?!" you shout at a low volume and cover your eyes with your hands.

"you can look now, it's fine," sunghoon says, pointing at the fish. you peek through the gaps between your fingers to see that the fish have stopped moving. sunghoon smirks as you take your hands away from your face. "see? i'm a pro."

coating and deep frying starts here!

he starts to coat them one by one in egg and flour and lays them down on a baking pan lined with paper. you watch as he handles each one delicately with concentration. "do you want me to start the oil?" you offer.

"oh! that would be great, thanks! the wok is already on the stove, just turn it on," he explains. you find the wok exactly where he had told you and turn on the gas stove accordingly, as if you've been here hundreds of times before, but in reality, you just have the same appliances. by the time the oil has been heated to the right temperature, sunghoon has already finished coating the fish. the two of you work together to place each one in the oil, listening to them sizzle and pop.

"we make a good team," sunghoon comments once every fish has started frying. you take care of the tongs and move them around when appropriate. "you should come by and guest star in one of my videos."

"if it's anything like today's, no thank you," you politely reject.

"what if... i invite you to eat after i cook?" he shoots his shot again. rolling your eyes playfully, you see that the fish are all thoroughly fried and turn off the fire. with his own tongs, sunghoon puts the fish on the plate as you go off to prepare two bowls of rice. the small dining room table gets cleaned up, so the two of you can start your meal. "okay, your answer?"

"depends on how good this mudfish is," you reply, holding up a fried fish with your chopsticks. he follows suit, and you two cheer your meals together.

"i'll eat well," the both of you say in harmony. finally, you take a bite of the crispy fish and hum in satisfaction, your eyes widening.

"mm! it's really good!" you compliment as he takes joy in your pleased expression.

"i'll take that as a yes to my question then?"

"hoon, i'll come over whenever you want me to," you exaggerate.

"deal," he accepts quickly so that you can't take it back. and that's how your first meal went with park sunghoon. soon enough, one meal turned into two, to five, to ten, until you're basically spending a lot of time with the youtuber. pretty much every weekend, you and sunghoon set it up so that you would cook and eat together in the afternoon so that you would have the rest of the evening to stream.

at some point, you find out that his major is biology, which is similar to your own in biochemistry, so your time with sunghoon extends to studying together and eventually gaming. one of you is always at the other's place and vice versa like you couldn't be without each other for a single moment.

you're eating takoyaki with said boy in your apartment this time, staring at his well-proportioned facial features as you chew slowly and think. he catches your unwavering gaze and chuckles. "is there something on my face, y/n?"

"i'm just thinking," you vaguely reply.

"about the thing on my face?" you shake your head at this. "then what is it? i know i'm really handsome and all, but you literally see me all the time."

"that's exactly my point!" you cry out as if you hit eureka, shocking him in the process. "we're together all the time. we were literally enemies at first, and now it's like we're dating! what is this, some kind of shitty fanfiction?" yes

"well, do you want us to date?" luckily, you had just swallowed the last bit of your takoyaki ball because that could've made you choke. instead, you suddenly start coughing, and he pushes your water towards you.

the coldness of the water does nothing to help your rising temperature as you take big gulps of it. "wh-what kind of question is that?" you ask, patting your mouth dry with a nearby tissue.

"a serious one," he answers nonchalantly. "because i like you." stream dreamcatcher BEcause

"huh? since when?" you're practically in disbelief. no way sunghoon liked you back. you had just discovered your own feelings not too long ago when you had tucked him in after an intense study session and he whispered your name. ever since then, you got butterflies in your stomach around him, and not because he made it a mukbang. (but you wouldn't put it past him?)

the male rubs the back of his neck. "it's been a while. i just know that i like you."

"st-stop saying that!" you wave your hands in front of your face frantically to hide the redness you know that has spread all over.

"oh? or what, room 506?" he gets up from his seat across from you to prop his elbows on the table, getting a closer look at your cute, embarrassed appearance as he rests his head on his hands. "make me," he prods some more.

reminiscent of the first time you cooked together, you peeked through your fingers to witness his adorable grin waiting for you. as if wanting you to seal the deal, he closes his eyes and smiles with just his lips. you shyly reach out to grab his cheeks, taking a moment to brush the fringe out of his eyes so you can adore the moles that dotted his face, and slowly bring your own lips towards his to press them together in a kiss.

it's short but sweet, and soon you're pulling away and finding your fingers more interesting. sunghoon's eyes flutter open and fondly gazed at you. "be mine?" he speaks up.

"if you stop making my heart scream, then yeah," you mumble, stealing a glance at his smug smile. he laughs, stands up, and walks over to your side of the table. turning your chair around as if you weighed nothing, he places his hands on the table behind you, engaging you in between his long limbs.

"sweetheart, that's the whole point," he says, leaning down to chase your lips and kiss you until your heart can't take it anymore. you're both screaming on the inside as your hearts keep pounding in your chests, but at least this time it's from your pure feelings towards each other.

a/n: omg this is the last of captured on camera EEE thank you all so so much for being here with me on this journey of my first one-shot series <3 this really shows my growth as a writer, and i'm so glad i could share it with y'all! i hope you all look forward to my next one-shot series~

taglist: @cha-raena @imjustme-things @misoiishi @rikitaiyaki @fiantomartell

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fanfiction #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

---

You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 4 years

Text

Touch it for Real, Part 2

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

What you didn't know — what you couldn’t have known was that it wasn’t real. The flush you felt in your skin was real. The sticky sweat that spread over your bed sheets when you tossed and turned was real. The heat of it; the perceptible and tactile fire that spread through your veins felt so physical and solid, you had no way of knowing that this wasn’t real.

Slim fingers.

Fleshy thighs.

Hip bones beneath well worn denim.

Buttons popping with the barest of effort.

And the lips. Oh God, the softness of those lips as they traveled over your very hot skin. You could feel it all.

You never saw his face; you hadn’t needed to. You could smell him everywhere. You knew who this was. You’d know him with your eyes blinded; you’d know him anywhere.

At first you turned away. At first you resisted, but as the fire spread through you, you found yourself turning into him, searching for him, seeking out that connection to fuel the heat.

Why was this happening? Why did you rejoice in it? The longing and the desire had simply become too much for you to deny and now you were the one pulling him into you. You were the one who wrapped your legs around that slim waist and constricted and those sounds from his chest they were...they were…

Those sounds from his mouth, they were—

Screaming.

Laughing.

‘AH HA HA HA AH — YES!’ Rough staccato laughter; so, so loud — so damn loud, it ripped and it tore at your mind and it yanked you up so roughly; up so fast you felt your entire body shaking if not completely falling apart with the speed at which you were pulled.

You opened your eyes into pitch blackness. Your vision took only a second to adjust and you could make out the sliver of dim light from the street lamp outside that peeked through the very top of your curtains.

On your nightstand, pale yellow squared numbers taunted you with 03:42 AM and covering your entire body where you laid on your once so welcoming bed was your bunched up and sweaty comforter. It was heavy. It was everywhere. You felt suffocated by it. Why was it so hard to breathe?

Your comforter. You purchased it because it was pretty. It fit in perfectly with your room decor and it was pale in color enough that the brightly colored stuffed animals you set atop stood out and complimented the subtle pattern. It made you feel at home.

It used to make you feel at home. Now it was making you feel a very different sort of way. Hot and sweaty and flushed all over and now, very mad about all of it.

You could still feel that shaking deep inside your chest and you laid your palm over your forehead to feel for a fever. You swear you could feel the tremble happening inside, though it was fading now, you were sure you still felt that shaking inside of your body.

It was beginning to settle.

You felt another rumble, paired with a loud booming sound that vibrated and shook your wall. The glass of your window quaked and the pale yellow numbers on your nightstand danced in your vision.

‘HAHAHA! I got you asshole!’

03:44 AM

Speakers. Surround sound. Heavy bass. An impressive system at any other time of the day when the sun was out. But right now? When you had been peacefully asleep; when you had been dreaming? Earth shattering booms. Deafening shouts of victory from the idiot with every new explosion that rattled your bones.

You sat up and the comforter stuck to your sweaty skin. It wasn’t even hot in this room, yet this thing clung to you like it was coated in glue. Nearly four in the fucking morning.

You had to work tomorrow. It was the one day a month when you were required to report to the office in person for the staff meeting. And here you were being ripped awake by such a disturbing commotion and goddammit this blanket was hot.

This … thing.

This thing that brought with it images of him and images of, oh god, images of his fingertips and his lips and his, oh god, oh no. No, please not that. Anything but that. Of all the things that were absolutely off limits. Of all the situations that could never happen. Horror. An overwhelming horror; it tasted of shame.

No, no, no, no.

How could this have happened? How could those images be burning into the backs of your eyes? The more your overtired mind tried to make sense of it, the less sense this made. You looked down at the blanket, searching for answers.

Had something about this blanket been ruined?

Was it’s once comforting and innocent essence somehow completely changed on a molecular level and was it now….tainted forever? Because of him? Because of what he brought into your room and depravedly rubbed all over it?

You pushed it away with both hands reaching you pushed and pushed until it sunk down off the foot of your bed and the cool air blew over your hot bare legs. Even the cool air did little to calm the irritation you felt all over your body. It did nothing to cool you off. Your legs were made of pure fire.

He did this. You were sure of it. He brought this evil on you. And now with his room shaking howling laughter you were wide awake and angry at almost 4 am when you had work in the morning; you had to be worth a damn in the morning.

You were up on angry legs with rage pushing you forward and you reached down for the blanket that you didn't even want in your room anymore for all it represented. You hauled it with both hands and took two steps forward toward your closed bedroom door when your forward progress took a quick and southward dive and you fell, tripped up by the wretched blanket when you stepped on a corner instead of on your soft rug.

You could feel the burn on your kneecaps where you collided with the hard floor. You could feel a sting on your left knee that hit the hardest but burned into the carpet and you grunted through the pain to quickly lift yourself back up and gather every other bit of hanging blanket securely inside your arms.

The trek through the living room at such an ungodly hour when every living breathing cell in your body would have rather been asleep felt absolutely crazed. You reached his door, turned the knob just enough for the latch to disengage and with your entire being hurled that motherfucker open and sent it flying.

Oh and it flew. It hit the wall and bounced back hard, bouncing back quickly against your arms that held on securely to the blanket. The noise was shocking. It was a vindicating battle cry.

The commotion startled him. His hands were on the keyboard and a pair of headphones atop of his head and for WHAT, you could hear every single thing happening on his screen in mind deafening stereo surround sound filling up the whole room. You could hear it clearly from your own room and from inside this room it sounded like you were living inside of the subwoofers themselves.

Your rage was somehow louder and it made him spin toward the motion and sound of you at his doorway with a shriek of surprise. His eyes were saucers and his mouth flew open; an unchewed bite of some pink sausage fell out and bounced off his knee onto the floor below his sock covered feet and he was only screaming for a second before he was cursing.

“Shit. Jesus. Fuck. Ohh my God, Fucking Hell, oh my heart. Oh it hurts. Oh Christ I’m dying.” He was clutching at his chest. His headphones, the useless things slipped off his head and toppled down his shoulder following the sausage chunk and you could see them fall all the way down to the floor. The cord, which had not been plugged in quickly followed and pooled into a puddle at his feet.

“Do you have any idea ... what time it is?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. Had you always sounded so burly? You felt like an angry mountain lion ready to go in for the kill.

His eyes were closed up tight and he inhaled a deep breath before cracking them open to look at you through the heavy panicked breaths.

“Ohhh,” he moaned as his breathing calmed and the shock faded with each slow breath he took. “Ohhhhh,” he repeated softer, to himself.

“Ohhh…” this time he was looking at you and his eyebrows furrowed together as he did it. “Oh—whoa, whoa, whoa, you look….super fucking crazy right now. What is happening?”

His hands were up in confusion; in defense, and you were moving forward taking the stupid blanket and roughly shoving it toward him you hurled it right at his face and watched it hit as hard as a soft cottony blanket could manage to hit — it was more of a gentle nudge really, and then it fell down, taking his stupid glasses off his face and burrying them somewhere within the fluff where the blanket fell.

He was too confused to catch it. He had absolutely no idea what he had done to defile and destroy the sacred sanctity of your sleep.

He had no idea.

“What are you doing with this? Why are you doing this? Why are you giving me your blanket? Where are your pants? Is your leg bleeding? Tell me what is happening!”

“You!” You hurled a finger up and pointed it in his face. His eyes widened, crossed to look at the finger that clearly accused him of something just off the end of his nose and then looked back into your face in utter confusion.

“You—“ you inhaled to survive and your mouth hung open as the words, the accusations you had for him, the truth of what he had done to you, what he really hadn’t done, but what you were certain you felt happening in your sleep, in that dream, those words they stopped entirely as you looked at his face. His very real face, the very real pink cheeks and confused eyes of your roommate Byun Baekhyun who had absolutely no idea that you had just been disturbed during and then disturbed by a vivid and confusing sex dream about him.

Oh god.

You couldn’t say that.

You would rather be dead right here than say those words with your own mouth.

This had never happened before. He was a real person, you had never experienced a dream like that involving a real person. Not someone you knew like you knew Baekhyun. Not someone you lived with and had to keep on living with. The more you replayed the words that refused to come out of your mouth inside your head the more your sanity slowly returned to your mind.

“Your headphones are not plugged in.” You shook your finger in his face. Using every bit of anger you had built up on the walk across the living room, every bit of uncomfortable sweaty stinging ick you felt all over your whole body about the whole thing and you shot those death lasers out of your eyeballs and you focused them right on his face, right there in the center of his stupid forehead. That’s where you put it. That’s where you glared and that’s where you wished every little bit of comeuppance that he had coming to him would land. Right there on that head.

“Wha?” He said and his stupid pink lips frowned downward into a pout. Against your will, you watched them as they moved and then quickly focused your pointing anger back up onto the center of his forehead. It took a lot.

He was looking down at his feet and reached through the big fluffy blanket that covered him from the waist down to the floor to find the headphones that had landed somewhere within it all.

He pulled them up and kept pulling, following the cord until he reached the end and he held the male end of his headphones with his fingertips as he looked down at them with a scoff and a small laugh.

“Oh shit,” he chuckled to himself, “huh...would you look at that?” As if absolutely nothing at all mattered in the world and this was just a humorous little hiccup in his day. At 4 am on a work day.

The audacity of the man. The absolute shameless audacity.

“Would you look at that?!?” The volume of your own voice surprised you. You screamed it. Right at the top of your lungs and he jumped in his seat, closed his eyes up tight and clutched at his chest again with a pained wince on that face. Immediately after you’d done it you felt a pang inside. Was your anger really caused by being awoken? What were you really so damn mad about here?

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered to himself when his eyes opened again.

Then he directed them at you with his eyebrows furrowed and that glare right on your face.

“Jesus. Christ. Woman.” he half spoke again with his eyes on you and his face pointing directly at yours with each new word he spoke. You felt unjustly rebuked. The seriousness on his voice closed up your gaping mouth and you pulled your head back. Part of you wanted to grab his hair and pull it, demanding reparations and apologies and justice for his many 4 AM crimes against you.

“I mean...Jesus. Christ.” His head nodded to emphasize just how ridiculous he was now finding your current outburst and you felt the heaviness deep inside your arms as you sagged on your feet and wanted to give up your fight against gravity. Part of you knew you were justified in your outrage. How could you be losing this fight so easily to him? Maybe...maybe you were just tired.

“I’m just...so tired, Baek.” Your complaint came out as a sad little whine and your head fell back as you closed up your eyes. Suddenly feeling like you could drop right here at his feet and sleep curled up in your wretched comforter.

He must have gotten up. You could feel his arms on your shoulders and you were steered somewhere within his room. Your legs didn’t feel like moving but there were some calming circles being rubbed on your back that felt too nice to resist.

“I’ll turn it off, Bug. You can sleep, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I was sleeping so nicely.” You mumbled and you were in a bed that didn’t smell like you. “I was dreaming.” All at once the memory and that smell brought back a strange yet familiar feeling.

“Was it a good dream?” His voice sounded far away.

“Mhmm,” you hummed and you let yourself drift. You let yourself curl into the mattress that you were laid over and gave in to an unimaginable comfort that pulled you under too easily.

If he had any more questions you did not know, but something called your sleepy mind back for one more word. Something asked perhaps. You couldn’t be sure what it was, only your single word response slipped from your lips.

“You,” you told the questions, before disappearing entirely.

Your alarm clock was ringing. It was a sufferingly familiar sound that could rip you awake from the deepest sleeps. Today it sounded far away, but that tune was so ingrained into your mind that you immediately opened your eyes and stuck a hand out to look for your phone to stop it.

Only your hand reached and found nothing. You moved further and bumped against something hard like a table that should not have been there.

“Mmm,” a soft moan sounded out from somewhere below and when you finally opened your eyes and searched your ceiling, the layout was definitely different.

This was not your room.

This was not your bed.

“Don't you work today?” You followed the sound of his voice and found it coming from somewhere curled up on the floor beside the bed underneath your comforter. The one you’d abandoned last night. The memories flooded in an instant.

“Yeah. I’m getting up. You can have your bed back, Peanut.”

Peeling back his blankets for a quick escape you saw your own bare shins; knees; thighs; all the way up to your underwear. You’d fallen asleep with only a t-shirt on last night. But there was a new addition. You saw a flesh colored bandage stuck to your knee with a brown-red stain in the center of the gauze pad. You paused to look down at it, a thousand conflicting inclinations running through you in a single breath and not a spare minute to dwell on any of them because your alarm was still ringing and Baekhyun had turned over and peeked his face out from under your blanket.

You could not explain the urgency to leave. You freely loitered near him and around him constantly without even a second thought.

Although you had never done it in such a state of undress. This could have explained the rush. How much would he see of you? How many flaws could he make out with his sleepy eyes. How long had it taken him to apply the bandage last night? Did he use his bare fingertips to softly dab ointment on your wound or did he merely slap on a bandaid with a rough palm. He wouldn't have lightly blown on it to dry the medicine would he?

Something was wrong with you.

These were not important questions for you to be asking. You needed to get out of his room before he saw any more. Perhaps the dream had done much more damage than you had feared.

You could have stepped down off the bed beside where he laid. It would have only required an extra step to get over him. Instead you climbed down to the foot of his bed and without a look back you were out of his room under the compulsion of the ringing alarm and you surrendered willingly.

Back inside your room you could breathe freely and deeply. You could indulge in your routine of getting ready for the day and you took your time to get your hair and your makeup looking nice. It was cold out so you opened for the thick winter leggings to get you through the commute without freezing to death and you were out of your door just in time to stop for a morning coffee.

The day dragged. You were probably just out of practice, having worked from home for so long that having to make an active attempt to look busy enough to justify your paycheck with so many witnesses in the office had you feeling burnt out by lunch time.

You went for a walk to avoid awkward small talk with your co-workers even though it meant you didn't have enough time to actually eat any real food before your break was over. Still it was preferable to the alternative. Namely the meddling old women who, every time they saw you had some new neighbor’s friend’s son, or some doctor’s nephew they just had to set you up with.

So what if you were single. So what if you were too young and too pretty to be alone. There wasn’t some invisible timer counting down to your swift and imminent demise just because you didn't have a boyfriend. You were pretty sure that timer was running for everyone despite the relationship status on their facebook profile. And you did not mention your facebook profile to Baekhyun because he would probably flip out, hack into your computer and delete the whole thing. The dramatic man. How else were you supposed to see what a mess your high school friend’s lives were shaping up to be.

When it was finally time to go home for the day you were more exhausted than you thought was normal for someone still walking around on her own two legs. You were the angry sort of hungry that made you annoyed with every single sound you heard on the subway and not even your headphones in your ears playing your favorite songs eased your anxiety.

You glared at the woman across the aisle with the unruly kids who refused to wear their masks right. You glared at the old man with his nose sticking out of the top of his and you tightened your own mask to your face and took a step back and away from the group of youths that eyed you up and down as they moved through the doors.

You’d never before been so happy to open the door to your apartment and be greeted by the pleasant hum of a refrigerator that you knew had to have at least one tasty thing you could snack on to take the edge off of your mood.

Inside was bright. It was cleaned recently — You’re welcome — It was sparkling and gleaming and well organized and it was full of a multitude of raw ingredients that could be chopped and sliced and diced and cooked up to make a wonderfully healthy and fulfilling meal for whoever had the energy and ambition to embark on such a feat.

You peered inside at the bottles of water in the door. The sticks of butter and the bottles of sauce mocked you. You were pretty sure raw eggs cracked into your open mouth would give you some sort of infection that would require you to leave the house again this month so you opened the drawer where you were sure you saw a cheese stick hiding inside last night.

There it was.

It was white and bouncy. It was salty and individually wrapped and it was calling your name in sweet a cheesy joyous chorus of promised deliciousness.

It was yours.

It’s most amazing feature wasn’t the chewiness or the cold chill it had from sitting for weeks in a refrigerator. No, the best thing, and you mean the absolute very best thing about this single plastic wrapped cheese stick was that it existed.

Exactly when you needed it most.

Feet shuffled behind you. Baekhyun would be waking up from whatever napping schedule he’d accidentally tricked his body clock into adopting and he would be stumbling into the kitchen for a drink of water.

You unwrapped the cheese stick and stuck the end between your lips. Instantly rewarded by the soft way it gave when you bit down. You took the tiniest bite and you chewed carefully and thoughtfully. Perhaps your eyes rolled back and closed and perhaps you might have even experienced something akin to out of body experience of pure pleasure as you chewed, swallowed, and opened your mouth again for another bite. A real one this time.

What you hadn’t anticipated, was the cruelty of the universe that had allowed you to live this many years on Earth only to end up here in this exact moment with this man whose home you also lived in. You hadn’t expected the crushing reality of watching that man sleepily stumble into you with his eyes half closed and open his big mouth as wide as it would go and sink that mouth down directly onto the entire exposed part of your cheese stick, of which maybe 85% had been exposed, and chomp down ruthlessly with nearly the entire thing vanishing away before your eyes.

You watched him chewing noisily with his mouth open and bits of white cheese bumbled around inside before he let out a noisy laugh complete with a snort that sent bits of cheese flying across your once clean kitchen.

“Haha,” he said as he swallowed, “your face.”

He was laughing at you.

He ate your cheese; well, most of your cheese. He was laughing now, harder. The longer you stood staring at him in absolute shock at what he had just done the harder he laughed and you could feel the countdown happening inside of your chest. A number for each heart beat that seemed to be speeding up toward his death.

He had no idea. He never ever did.

This man was so close to death and he was giggling now and reaching for the big bottle of orange juice that sat inside the fridge.

He lifted it up to his lips and drank from the bottle, not even bothering with a glass. He drained half of its contents and when he pulled the bottle down, some things, tiny and white - mini specks of your cheese floated around inside the orange liquid.

You saw bright white nothingness.

You would like to go on the record now, and plead insanity.

In your mind's eye, everything was just all white.

Like the afterlife in movies. Except far less peaceful but equally unexplainable.

Violence may not be the answer. But you really had very little memory of this.

You had flashes of it. His deafening screams and your hand reaching into a bag of cheese puffs for handfuls that you shoved into his gaping mouth. You don’t even know where you got them from. They just appeared suddenly and they crushed so easily into soft powder as you pressed them between his teeth. The powder coated the surface of his skin around his mouth. It flew in the air too as he screamed. You were covered in it. Your hands were stained bright orange. The color of your wicked crimes.

The whiteness returned. Then more flashes of your crimes. Your mind touched on images of the sticky drops of orange juice that fell one by one from his hair that laid completely flat, lacquered to the top of his head. Then, his cries of pain with your knees dug into his chest and both of your bright orange hands squeezed tightly around his neck. The coughing when you pressed down harder in the middle of his neck and the eventual sensation of him fighting back. The urge to live must be strong in him. Why did he resist this so much? Just die already. Why fight the inevitable? If not done by you, surely some other person would do it.

When you came to, you were inside of your bedroom packing a bag full of clothes and stuffed animals. You felt that this was probably your get-away bag, and that meant he was probably dead.

Drowned in two ounces of backwash filled orange juice and lungs stuffed with brightly colored cheese flavored* puffs (*contains no real cheese.)

You had a list happening inside of your head. Things you had to do before you left this place forever and never returned. A strange calm had washed over you; probably brought on by shock.

First, you had to pack this bag. You had stuffed it full of overcoats. Your winter coat with the pink polka dots. The fluffy yellow puffer jacket you got as a gift from your best friend. Your rain jacket in case it got wet in hell. Second, you would go into his room and clear his search history. It was something you had always promised you would do for him and he had promised to do the same for you. After that, you would call the police from a pay phone on the corner of the block to anonymously report the crime.

Your bag was full. Too full to fit the brightly colored pink bunny even though it was a tiny thing. You pushed and shoved, squeezing it in between the layers of coats until you were sure the seam of your bag was about to pop if you tried to zip it closed.

You still had your toiletries to pack. This would never do. How could you pack a get-away bag without your favorite shampoo.

A flood of memories came to you. Your favorite shampoo and handing the bottle with your eyes covered to Baekhyun as he showered. All at once, that steady and all consuming calm wavered and you felt the first hot tears building. Stinging and burning as they crested and spilled over your lashes onto your cheeks.

Your lips were stuck in a deep frown and you did your best to inhale through a stuffed up nose.

“My poor Peanut,” you said into the hollow empty space of your lonely bedroom. You’d have to venture into his bathroom to get your shampoo. Possibly walking past his lifeless corpse which you were pretty sure you left somewhere in between the kitchen and the living room.

A maniac. You were a heartless monster. The remorse you now felt, which could very well help you in court, coated you from head to toe and you cried openly when you pulled your bedroom door open and took your first step out of your room.

Shampoo and search history. These things were your destination.

But a sound coming from somewhere deep in the kitchen threw off your steps and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise with the unexpectedness of it.

More than just a sound, you could smell something too. Was that sizzling? Had you accidentally turned the stove on and now your whole apartment was on fire? Was this how you could get rid of the body?

No. You had to get a grip now. That was going too far. You could understand homicide but desecration of a corpse? Ick. That kinda shit was for sickos.

You focused your energy on your destination and took three big steps to cross the living room and placed a hand on the door knob of his room.

The knob clicked noisily when you turned it too quickly and you heard a shuffle coming from the kitchen. A shuffle and then a scrape and you turned at the sound.

“Hey Bug, food’s ready. Come eat. I made your favorite.”

You froze on your feet with your eyes wide open, nose too stuffy to breathe so your mouth hung wide open as well. With tears streaming down your face, made fresh again by the sight of him standing in the kitchen with a white towel draped around his neck, clean wet hair, and a frying pan and spatula in his hand, you gasped.

You had never been quite so relieved to see the sight of your stupid roommate. Overcome, you dropped the bag you carried at your feet and rushed to where he stood with arms raised and the dish he had just finished cooking elevated and you reached for his body with your arms outstretched. When you felt his warmth you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Uhh,” he said softly, flinching upon contact and freezing up but first lifting the hot pan high enough to remove any danger of burning you with it. “Why are you crying?”

You squeezed tighter and buried your face in his chest. You’d get his shirt wet with tears and with snot but you didn't care. He was okay. Your overwhelming guilt for your behavior towards him was so thick you had a hard time not sobbing harder when you felt the awkward steps he took to set the hot pan down and free his hands and then that first warmth of the palm of his hand that landed on your back.

When the other hand joined and slipped around your shoulder a quiet cry got caught up inside the back of your throat and you heard a warning sound somewhere. Because the warning did not exist in this realm of reality he did not hear it and another step into you brought his arms tighter around your shoulders and when you felt those hands move gently over your back the warning sound blared up hot and terrifying.

You and him did not do this. This was not something you had ever done with Baekhyun. Sure, light touches sometimes. Plenty, even. Hell, you playfully smacked him for something new and annoying every single day. You weren’t exactly scared of him, but you had never hugged him before and you sure as fuck didn't ever hold him.

“Bug?” His voice was calling you. You had an inkling that it might have been the second or third time and you pulled back from him. His hands released you the second he felt your retreat and you looked at the spot where you’d mashed your whole face into his shirt wincing at all the face shaped wet spots you saw there.

He didn't seem bothered by it and you inhaled a deep trembling breath with a meaningless nod of your head at him. Whatever had happened didn’t matter. Everything was fine. Everything was over and it was okay. He was okay too.

He offered a small smile and turned to get two bowls to fill with the food he had made.

It was fried rice. Simple, no frills fried rice with a fried egg on top and just enough spice to make it interesting but not enough to activate any more water works. It was his favorite and you were pretty sure he didn't actually know how to make any other dishes. But hadn’t he just said he made your favorite?

“Baek, This isn’t my favorite. This is your favorite.”

He placed a bowl in front of where you sat and he lifted a quizzical eyebrow with a small tick of his head.

“No, it’s not my favorite. It’s your favorite. You make it all the time. And that’s why I made it now. Because it's your favorite.”

As he spoke, he pointed back and forth between you and the bowl of rice with his spoon. As if he was teaching a class on something you obviously didn’t know the first thing about.

“But I only make it all the time because it's your favorite, Peanut.”

You picked up your spoon and mixed the egg into the rice and began eating quickly out of necessity. You were about to pass out from hunger at this point.

He was watching you eat with that confused look on his face and he hadn’t touched his rice yet.

“Well whose favorite is it then?”

You shrugged and swallowed another bite. You were half finished with your bowl already and Baekhyun looked down and scooped up the egg from the top of his own rice with his spoon, leaning forward to plop it down on top of your remaining rice.

“Please tell me you at least like eggs on top.”

“Doesn’t everybody?” You remarked flippantly and you mixed again, feeling so much more human now that you had some real food in your stomach.

He was leaning back in his chair, fingertips over his face as he lightly massaged at the space between his eyebrows and you giggled to yourself with a mouth full of rice.

“I thought I killed you, Baekhyun.”

You heard him snort out a laugh and he quickly covered his mouth with both of his hands before he spat out all over the table. You yourself had to cover your mouth to keep your rice in and you laughed in a painful stifled way to keep from choking on the food in your mouth.

“You made me eat so many fucking cheese puffs I’m not even hungry right now.” He wheezed through his words and you saw him wiping at his eyes while you forced yourself to swallow before rice flew out of your nose.

He was holding his stomach as he laughed and the tight pained wince on his face only made you laugh harder.

You had eaten all you could and Baekhyun abandoned his food before he even started due to a certain cheese puff armed psychopath.

You’d stood to clear away the plates when you heard the hum of his phone vibrating on the table. You’d made your way into the kitchen when his voice piped up from where he was seated at the table staring down at whatever he had just received on his phone.

“Hey, uhh...h-how should I respond to this girl?”

“Girl? Baekhyun are you chatting with someone?” You perked up, instantly way more interested in what was happening on his phone than washing these dishes and you quickly rounded the corner back into the dining room to find out more.

“Oh wait, nevermind, I think...I don’t think she’s serious.” His voice weakened when his phone vibrated again and you’d reached a spot where you could clearly see the messages he had just received.

From Vixxxen18 again. You rolled your eyes hard enough for them to ache just seeing that familiar screen name.

“Ugh, this bitch again,” you said in a disgusted voice and you saw the flinch in his shoulders. He darkened a shade and you quickly grabbed the phone to steady it so you could clearly see what she wanted this time.

‘Hey honey, DTF tonight?’

You read the message out loud and he held his hands over his face and squirmed in his seat.

“Peanut do you know what DTF means?”

“Yes. I know what it means.” He interrupted you before you could get the whole sentence out. His ears were pink. You heard the clench of his jaw muffle his words as he spoke.

Her next message you didn’t read out-loud.

‘Spot me 50 for gas and I’ll come over’

“Gas doesn’t cost fifty dollars,” you scowled under your breath and your fingers were typing before you had a chance to second think.

‘Shouldn’t we get to know each other a little bit first?’

Her response came quickly and made your blood boil.

‘What makes you think I want to know you’

“Oh I’m going to kick her ass,” you said right before the phone was plucked out of your hands so fast you still moved your thumbs as you typed in the air, ready to give this bitch a piece of your mind.

“Settle down, Cheese Puffs, she's actually not that bad most of the time,” he said and he was closing out the messaging program quickly before you could say anything else to literally the worst human being you’d ever had a two second conversation with.

Your breathing was heavy and you must have had a look in your eyes that made him uncomfortable because he was reaching down to grab your hand and he tugged lightly toward the living room sofa. He was swiping with his other hand on his phone again.

“Here, I have some matches on the dating profile you made me. Why don't we have a look through them and find someone who’s ass you don't want to kick.”

He plopped down with a huff and you quickly sat down beside him, leaning well against his arm so you could see his screen clearly.

“God, you’re so mean today. What’s gotten into you? Ever since you woke up from that dream last night you’ve been ready to kill anyone who moves.”

You’d taken over the scrolling and found yourself lost in the freedom of judging the girls on his phone screen as he mused about what a grump you were.

Boring. Bland. Brainless. Vapid. Ugh.

As you flipped through them you not so quietly voiced how much you hated every one of them. Sure, for someone they could have been perfect but for him, they were not. His complaints about you went silent and as he watched the scrolling.

At last you found someone who seemed to fit some sort of idealized image you had of the perfect girl for him and you stopped scrolling instantly with a quiet gasp. He wasn’t saying anything about her though and you looked up excitedly at his face expecting him to be reading the profile she had carefully written, or looking through the pictures you oh so slowly scrolled past but instead of looking down at the phone his eyes were just watching you.

It was an odd and calm observation of only your face. And when you grabbed ahold of his eyes with your searching ones you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head down, pointing with the angle of your face at his phone screen so he could see her, so he could see Mia who lived only 5 miles away from him and had seen all of the animes that he liked and played the same kinds of computer games he played and was honest to god, cute as a damn button. Perfect! You wanted to squeal.

“Peanut,” you whispered and his eyes widened and his eyebrows danced on his face as he finally, finally looked down in his lap where the phone sat.

But the screen was now black. It had timed out. You clicked on a button on the side and it prompted him to log in again and what was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he unlocking it already? You grabbed his hand and his eyes glanced down where you touched his fingertips, carefully tracing with his index finger over the pattern he used to unlock his phone and it came back to life — the smiling, lovely image of Mia who lived only 5 miles away and was just absolutely perfect.

“Bug,” He said softly as he looked down at his phone screen and your smile was naturally wide as he watched each image fly across his screen. The anticipation of his reaction was killing you. He had to be as excited about this as you were. He at least seemed to be paying attention to the pictures this time.

But he wasn't squealing or even smiling about her. The silence on his side got you talking again. A quick nervous sort of talking to fill up the quiet. “She’s cute. And she's nice, I can feel it. And she's perfect for you. Let’s message her.”

You lifted a finger to your chin and thrust your eyes into the air to think. You thought back to some of the opening lines you’d been fed by the men you dated and you opened the window to send a message to Mia from Baekhyun.

“Bug,” he said again, even quieter than he had called before and it stood out to you that he had been trying for a while to get your attention now and you were so distracted with how much fun this was that you hadn’t really acknowledged him. You were being presumptuous. Just because you liked her didn’t necessarily mean he did. It even occurred to you that maybe you were being downright rude.

So you looked at him. Lifted your eyebrows up and rested the phone back down on his knee cap so he would say what he wanted to say already. You braced for the rejection of the cutest girl in his list of matches.

But instead of speaking he just looked at you and you slowly began to hear the actual ticking of the clock on the wall across the room from where you both sat. After much too long his eyes fell to look down the phone in your hand and you heard the smallest, softest scoff from his chest and he closed his eyes once with a long sigh.

And then he was nodding his head with his eyes closed up tight. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, send her a message. If you say she’s perfect, then she’s perfect.”

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth @beg0neth0t420

#Baekhyun #Exo #Baekhyun fic #Exo fic #Baekhyun fanfic #Exo fanfic #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff #baekhyun exo

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :)

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

302 notes · View notes

raw-lesbian-energy · 2 years

Text

Fight At The Museum

Summary: Anne, Caroline, and the Plantars try to rob a museum for an artifact mysteriously connected to Amphibia.

Fandom: Amphibia (The Wild Soul AU)

Pairing: None

Features: Self-Insert Character

Word Count: 5,686

Warnings: Body mutilation (on a robot)

—————————————————————

It had been a few days since the robot incident at the supermarket, and Anne was wearing herself thin.

The teen sat hunched on her bed, laptop propped up on her knees, eyes glued to the screen as she typed away. She checked forums, articles, videos; anything and everything she could find about inter-dimensional travel. Before she knew it, light was creeping in through her window as the sun rose up into the sky.

“Anne!” Her mom’s voice startled her out of her trance. “Breakfast!” She glanced out through her open door at first, but she soon noticed that none of the Plantars were in her room anymore. Letting out a small sigh, she set her laptop down and got up, trudging down the stairs and getting herself some breakfast. After grabbing a bowl and filling it with cereal, she made her way to the living room where the Plantars were binging a soap opera on TV. Sprig and Polly were on the floor while Hop Pop took one side of the couch, allowing the teen to sit on the other side and let out a tired groan.

“Whoa, someone didn’t sleep.” Sprig commented, looking up at her.

“Nope. I spent all night researching ways to get you guys home.” Anne replied groggily. “And possibly the night before that.”

“You? Researching?” Mrs. Boonchuy said as she entered the room, sitting on the arm of the couch. “Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?” There was a slightly mocking tone in her voice, but Anne was far too tired for humour.

“Har har.” She replied flatly. Anne’s mother stopped smiling at her daughter’s tone, but ended up heading back to the kitchen as Anne turned her focus to the Plantars.

“So, I was thinking,” the teen started, “what if there’s a second calamity box, here on Earth? So I mapped out every thrift store within a fifty mile radius, and if we leave right now-”

“Pass.” Polly interrupted, waving her off. “Primthistle Manor isn’t gonna binge itself.”

“Everyone quiet!” Hop Pop cut in. “Lord Frankerton is confessing his love for Lady Franklin!” Anne looked up at the TV with bleary eyes, hardly processing the flowery confession as the Plantars watched with excitement. Soon after, the credits were rolling, and the Plantars were all smiling with teary eyes.

“Amazing!” Hop Pop exclaimed.

“I’m shook.” Polly murmured.

“And it only took three seasons!” Sprig added. Anne felt her frustration building, and she let out a harsh sigh.

“Why does it feel like I’m the only one trying to find a way back to Amphibia?” She blurted, pushing her bangs out of her face. All three Plantars exchanged looks, but soon Sprig was on his feet and over by Anne’s side.

“Anne, we have been trying.” He told her. “But it’s okay to take a day off to recharge every now and then.”

“There’s no time, you guys!” Anne retorted. “Come on, let’s get back to research.” Before any of them could reply, the sudden sound of the TV turning off caught their attentions and they looked up to see Mrs. Boonchuy holding the remote.

“Since you seem to enjoy research so much now,” she said, “what if you four spend a day at the museum and wrote a report? You’ve got a lot of make-up schoolwork to do, after all.”

“Aww, do we have to?” Anne and the Plantars all whined in unison. Mrs. Boonchuy didn’t budge.

“Yes.” She replied. “I’m also cleaning the house; there’s slime everywhere, and I’m not pointing fingers, but I need you all out of the way.” As if to emphasize her point, a large glob of slime suddenly detached itself from the ceiling, falling and landing with a ‘splat’ on the living room carpet.

“Gross, Anne.” Polly said. Anne shot a glare her direction, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay, Caroline will be here for you in ten minutes, so Plantars, go get your disguises.” Mrs. Boonchuy spoke again, prompting a look of surprise from Anne.

“Wait, Caroline’s coming?” She asked.

“Yes, I had called her in advance to come take you guys for the day.” Anne’s mom replied. “Just let her know I said to go to the museum, alright?” Anne merely nodded, watching as her mom walked back into the kitchen, leaving her and the Plantars in the living room.

“Say,” Sprig said, lowering his voice a little, “maybe we can just…not tell Caroline about the museum and go somewhere more-”

“Anne, just to be safe, I sent her another text.” Mrs. Boonchuy interrupted. “There’s no backing out of this.” After hearing this, both Anne and the Plantars let out annoyed sighs, speaking their feelings in unison.

“Dangit.”

——————

“Alright, here we are.”

Caroline pulled into a parking spot and stopped the car, turning it off and opening her door. Anne and the Plantars also got out, and the Plantars took a moment to ensure their disguises were on properly. Anne still had a tired look, prompting Caroline to walk over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, come on.” She said, trying to be optimistic. “The museum isn’t that bad. It’s got all sorts of fun and interactive stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” Polly piped up, carrying a tone of suspicion. “And how would you know?”

“Because I actually come here quite often.” Caroline replied, donning a smirk. In one quick movement, she pulled a small book out of the bag she had brought, opening it and revealing pages covered in sketches and drawings.

“Whoa.” All four said in awe, admiring the artwork.

“Did you draw these?” Sprig asked.

“Yep!” Caroline replied, smiling proudly. “Been drawing for as long as I can remember. I tried going to college for it, but…well, let’s just say animators do not get enough credit for how hard they work.” There was a small pause after her statement, which mostly consisted of confused looks from the Plantars.

“Uhh, what’s an animator?” Polly asked. Caroline blinked.

“Y’know what, forget it.” She replied. “Come on, we’ve got a museum to explore.” Both Anne and the Plantars followed as the young woman headed for the building, climbing up the steps and pushing the front door open. Inside, they were greeted by a towering main hall, decorated with banners, directory signs, and massive dinosaur skeletons. The Plantars stared at the displays in awe, while Anne still had her same tired expression and Caroline merely trotted over to the t-rex skeleton to draw it.

“Whoa, looks like you guys used to have a monster problem, too.” Sprig commented, walking up to stand next to Caroline. Anne, Polly, and Hop Pop soon joined the duo, and the five of them studied the dinosaurs for a while longer before moving on. They headed down one of the building’s many large hallways, soon finding an exhibit on space and the solar system. The Plantars were easily amazed by the display, but Anne and Caroline remained pretty indifferent. In the centre of it all was a slowly rotating globe, which actually caused a look of confusion to appear on Hop Pop’s face.

“Wait, your people think the world is round?” He exclaimed. Caroline’s expression changed instantly.

“I’m sorry, what?” She blurted. She wasn’t able to say anything further, though, as Polly suddenly caught sight of something and quickly left the room. The young woman followed to ensure she didn’t get lost, which prompted Anne, Sprig, and Hop Pop to trail along after. The trio soon found Polly and Caroline talking by a display of cavemen, and Polly seemed to enjoy the violent concept that came with them.

“See?” Hop Pop spoke as he stopped next to Anne. “We can have a fun one-off just like we did before. Right Anne?” The teen didn’t give a response, causing Hop Pop to look up and notice she had pulled out her laptop to research again.

“Anne!” He called, snapping her back to reality.

“What?” She blurted, quickly closing her laptop.

“You’ve gotta take a break from all this research!” He told her. Anne’s expression changed, a glint of annoyance in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, HP.” She said, waving him off. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Hop Pop wasn’t convinced, his brow furrowing in worry as he looked at the dark circles under Anne’s eyes.

“Burning yourself out isn’t gonna help us get back to Amphibia.” He warned. Anne paused as she seemed to process the words, but she had her eyes locked on something else.

“Amphibia.” She echoed. Hop Pop quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” He replied. Anne hardly heard him, kneeling down to his level while still keeping her eyes on whatever she had spotted.

“No, look.” She told him, pointing. Hop Pop followed her finger to see a large ceramic pot in a display case, and detailed on the side was a Viking ship full of people staring at a floating bipedal frog. The frog had one hand outstretched in front of them, displaying what was none other than the Calamity Box. Both Anne and Hop Pop were quick to walk over, leading Sprig, Polly, and Caroline to follow and see the pot as well.

“Call me crazy,” Sprig started, “but that looks like…”

“One of us!” Polly finished.

“I don’t believe it.” Anne murmured in shock. “Could this be the clue we’ve been looking for?”

“Didn’t expect to see frogs in here, eh?”

The sudden voice startled all five as they spun around, finding a woman standing almost directly behind them. She had dark skin and curly black hair tied in a bun, red-rimmed glasses, and a yellow shirt patterned with dinosaur bones.

“What? Frogs? Huh?” Anne blurted, straightening up as the Plantars tucked themselves behind her. The woman merely blinked, and Caroline looked at Anne with concern in her eyes. It took a moment for the teen to catch up, but she soon realized what the woman had meant.

“Ohh, you’re talking about the pot.” She said at last.

“Sure, what did you think I was talking about?” The woman replied. “Name’s Dr. Jan. I’m a curator here, and an avid lover of all things ancient.” She winked at Hop Pop as she said this, and Caroline had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Thankfully none of them noticed, and Dr. Jan walked over to the display holding the large pot.

“So, staring at this pot, eh?” She said. “Interesting, isn’t it? The frog here is depicted in a very unconventional fashion; bipedal!” She pulled Anne close to her as she talked, pointing at the frog designed on the pot. “It must’ve been some kind of deity.”

“That’s not the only unconventional thing.” Caroline’s voice suddenly cut in, and both Anne and Dr. Jan looked to see her standing next to them.

“Oh?” Dr. Jan looked at her with intrigue. The statement also caught the Plantars’ interests, causing them to move closer, too.

“Well, look at the people here.” Caroline said, kneeling down and pointing. “They’re depicted as if they’re from the Viking age, but Vikings never made anything from ceramic. They used either wood or bone since it was a lot more durable. That can only mean this was either a huge historical event…”

“Or this pot wasn’t made by the Vikings at all.” Anne finished the thought for her. Caroline met the teen’s gaze, and both of them held the same knowing look in their eyes.

“A brilliant observation!” Dr. Jan’s voice cut in, grinning brightly at Caroline. “It is true that ceramic was never used much by Vikings. Do I have an avid history fan on my hands?”

“Oh, uh,” Caroline’s expression turned sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck, “more like an avid ‘Viking’s Guide To Training Dragons’ fan, actually.” Despite the response, Dr. Jan’s smile only widened.

“Ah, a fantasy lover, I see!” She said enthusiastically. “I’m a fan of cryptids myself; UFO’s and all that. You know, between you and me, sometimes I like to theorize the design is actually a frog-shaped alien from another dimension!” At this, all five of them stiffened, glancing between each other before Caroline managed a small laugh.

“Hah, yeah, that’d really be something!” She managed, her tone somewhat forced. Thankfully, Dr. Jan didn’t notice.

“Sure would!” She replied. “Anyway, you got any other questions?” Despite the earlier tension, Sprig actually raised his hand.

“Actually,” he started, “do you know anything about portals to other-”

“Nope!” Anne cut him off, quickly covering his mouth with her hand. “None at all! Actually, I hate history. And museums! Yuck.” Caroline shot a wide-eyed look at the teen, but noticing the slight panic in her eyes, she remained silent.

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Dr. Jan said, frowning slightly. “And kind of insulting. Well, if you ever change your mind, just holler ‘Dr. Jan!’ and I’ll fly in like an information super hero!” The group stared at her silently for a moment, causing the curator’s smile to falter.

“Uh- Dr. Jan, away!” She exclaimed, making a ‘whoosh’ sound effect as she left the room. After she had gone, Anne’s body relaxed somewhat, allowing Sprig to pull himself out of her grip.

“Hey, why’d you blow her off?” He asked. “Maybe she knows something.”

“What?” Anne exclaimed. “Come on, dude. We don’t know anything about that lady. How do you know we can trust her?”

“Paranoid much?” Polly spoke up. Caroline furrowed her brow, stepping out to stand in front of the group.

“Okay, guys,” she started, “as unnecessarily rude as Anne was to Dr. Jan, she does have a point. The more people who know about you guys, the greater the risk you’re in. We can’t just tell someone everything after only meeting them once.”

“We did with you.” Sprig argued. Caroline’s expression hardened, and the glare she cast at the small frog made him clam up fast.

“But that thing’s our first real clue!” Hop Pop interjected.

“Agreed; we can’t just drop it.” Anne said, her expression growing stern. “What if there’s a map painted on the bottom, or a secret code that only shows up under blacklight?” Caroline turned her focus to the teen, noticing a contemplative look in her eyes and quickly realizing what she was thinking.

“Well, if you don’t wanna ask that Dr. Jan for help,“ Hop Pop spoke first, his tone soon turning sarcastic, “what are we gonna do? Rob the museum?”

——————

“I still can’t believe we’re robbing the museum.”

“Shhh!”

After being dropped off back at home by Caroline, Anne and the Plantars had quickly made their way up to Anne’s room to get their plan ready. Caroline had also given Anne her sketchbook, which, the teen found out, had a map of the museum layout and all its’ security cameras marked on it. The young woman hadn’t been able to come in with them, however, since Anne’s parents still believed she had no knowledge of the Plantars’ true selves.

“Anne?” Mrs. Boonchuy spoke as she poked her head in through the doorway. “You guys okay in here?”

“All good!” Anne replied, pulling a smile. “Just finishing that report!” Anne’s mother narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“Don’t believe you, but okay.” She said, backing away and closing the door. The group waited in silence for a moment, listening as Mrs. Boonchuy headed back downstairs and out of earshot.

“Looks like she bought it.” Polly said in relief. Sprig turned his gaze back to Anne, only to find the teen had dozed off sitting up.

“Anne!” He called. Anne quickly snapped awake.

“Wha? Where was I?” She blurted, working to regain her thoughts. “Oh, yeah- we did way more dangerous stuff in Amphibia. At least nothing here’s gonna spit acid at us.”

“That you know of.” Polly said, folding her arms. Anne merely rolled her eyes, getting to her feet and heading for her closet.

“Come on, guys.” She said, opening the closet door. “If you don’t break a few rules for this, how are we ever gonna get back?” The Plantars exchanged glances, holding a silent conversation before Sprig looked back up.

“So, what’s the plan?” He asked. Anne merely grinned, pulling some black hoodies from the back of her closet and holding them up. The Plantars quickly caught on, and soon all of them were dressed in dark clothes to disguise themselves. Hop Pop and Sprig both wore black hoodies, while Anne took a dark purple t-shirt and black beanie. Polly found her hoodie to be way too big, though, leading Anne to grab a pair of scissors and cut it short.

“Oh, I am very into this.” Polly said excitedly as she looked in the mirror. Anne smiled proudly at her work.

“Now, for our ride.” She said, taking out her phone. She pulled up Caroline’s contact and sent her a text, and not fifteen seconds later, there was a soft tap at Anne’s bedroom window. The teen’s expression turned to confusion, but as she walked over and hauled it open, she found the young woman sitting on the roof ledge just under her window.

“Caroline?!” She exclaimed in surprise. Caroline smiled at her, and Anne took a moment to notice her new outfit. She was dressed like a proper ninja; a black body suit covered her lanky frame along with light armour for protection. The looks of a face covering hung around her neck, and a belt with small pouches on it was secured around her waist.

“Heya.” She said casually. Anne was still awestruck, processing the sight before her.

“How long have you been up here?” She managed at last.

“Not long.” Caroline replied. “Figured it’d draw less attention to fetch you guys on foot. I parked about a block from here.” At this point, the Plantars had stuck their heads out the window too, and the four exchanged glances before looking back at Caroline. They all shared a look of agreement, and after ensuring Anne’s parents wouldn’t catch them, the group quietly climbed out the window. All five of them were quick to jump down, and once the house was out of sight, they followed Caroline to her car and headed off.

——————

The city was surprisingly quiet as the five reached the museum, with Caroline once again parking a block away to avoid suspicion. They carefully crept up to the front steps, ducking behind a plant-covered wall to keep out of sight.

“Okay, first; we gotta distract the guards.” Anne said, keeping her voice down. “Hop Pop?”

“On it.” Hop Pop replied. He reached over and began rummaging through Anne’s backpack, putting on some kind of costume before stepping out of his hiding place.

“Meow!” He called, hopping up the steps in front of the guards. “I’m a cat!” The guards stared at him in confusion as he batted at one of their shoes, but before they could decide what to do, he grabbed the very same shoe, took it right off the guard’s foot, and ran away.

“Hey! My shoe!” The first guard called.

“After that fabulous cat!” The second cried. Both of them quickly ran off after him, the one-shoed guard hopping to keep up, allowing Anne, Sprig, Polly, and Caroline to walk right up to the doors.

“Now Polly, you get us inside.” Anne told her, holding out her hand. Polly quickly jumped onto her palm, and in one swift movement, Anne tossed her up to the vent grate above them. The pollywog had no troubles getting into the vent, and after about a minute of scuffling, the museum’s front door swung open.

“Sup, fools?” Polly said proudly. The trio smiled at her arrival, quickly making their way into the building.

“Lastly; Sprig, you take out all the cameras.” Anne instructed.

“Oh, I can help with that.” Caroline piped up. She reached into one of her belt pouches, pulling out a set of throwing knives that made Anne’s eyes widen. Caroline hardly noticed, turning her attention to Sprig instead and giving him a challenging smile.

“Hey Sprig, bet I can take out more cameras than you!” She said. Sprig was quick to match her energy, and Caroline put her mask on as the two raced off into the museum. Sprig climbed the walls and used his tongue to take out the cameras he found, while Caroline kept under cover and threw her knives with intimidating accuracy. Both of them made sure to keep out of sight, only being on camera for a split second at most before all of them were disabled.

“Heh, not bad, kiddo.” Caroline lowered her mask and smiled as they moved to the next room. Sprig grinned at the praise, while Anne was still processing what she had just witnessed.

“Dude, when did you learn to do that?” She asked, drawing Caroline’s attention.

“Oh, that?” Caroline said, pointing a thumb at one of the disabled cameras. “Well, let’s just say having over a hundred hours clocked on 'Contract Cuts' finally paid off.” All three gave her a confused look, but before any of them could say anything, Hop Pop suddenly ran in dressed in his hoodie disguise again.

“Those guards got tired of chasing me and stopped at a coffee shop.” He said. “We got a good twenty minutes.”

“Nicely done!” Anne replied, giving him a thumbs up. “Now, all we have to do is… is…” the teen’s words trailed as she suddenly fell forward, prompting Caroline to step in and catch her before she hit the floor. Anne had ended up falling asleep right there, soft snores being heard as she hung limp like a rag doll.

“Hey! Anne!” Polly called, jumping onto Caroline’s shoulder and tapping Anne’s head. “Not a good time to nap!” The action quickly startled the teen awake, pulling herself out of Caroline’s grip and straightening up.

“Right! Sorry.” She said, a groggy tone in her voice. “Let’s do this thing!” Caroline and the Plantars exchanged looks of concern, but said nothing as they followed Anne to the next room. They could see the pot in its’ display case at the other end, but the way to it was blocked by a mass of security lasers.

“Oof.” Anne managed, still groggy. “That’s a lot of lasers.”

“Don’t worry.” Polly said, cracking her neck. “I got this.” The other four watched as Polly walked straight through, her small size allowing her to bypass the lasers with no trouble. She soon reached the display case, and jumping right at it, she latched onto the glass and cut a hole right through it with her teeth. After tossing the cut piece aside, she grabbed the pot with her tongue, pulling it out of the display and holding it up triumphantly.

“Wow, that was easy.” Sprig commented.

“This isn’t a movie, Sprig.” Anne replied. “Not everything has a dramatic twist.”

CRASH!

All five of them looked over in panic as something came barrelling through the skylight, showering the room in shards of broken glass. The group soon realized it was the same robot from the market, and as it rose to its’ full height, it passed through the lasers and set off the alarms.

“Not you again!” Anne cried. The frog-bot raised a clawed hand and swiped at Polly, prompting her to jump out of the way and rush back to the group. All of them started screaming, stealth forgotten as Anne stuffed the pot in her bag and bolted. The metal beast raced after them, firing off lasers from its’ eyes to take them out.

“This way!” Caroline called, rushing down one of the halls. The Plantars were quick to follow, but Anne tripped and fell hard. She leapt back to her feet, but in her panic, she turned and sprinted another in direction. The teen ducked into a sarcophagus to hide, but the robot found her and ripped the lid right off. Anne cried out as she took off running, and the bot tossed the sarcophagus aside to follow.

“Hey!” A voice shouted, causing the frog-bot to stop. It turned to see the Plantars charging straight at it. They were stacked on top of each other, Sprig wearing knight’s armour with two swords, and Polly with a mace.

“Leave Anne ALONE!” Polly yelled, launching the mace at it. The robot caught it midair, whirling its’ arm around and hurling it right back at them. The weapon hit the armour Sprig was wearing, knocking him back with enough force that sent all three flying. The robot soon directed its’ attention back to Anne, rapidly firing shot after shot. She scrambled to dodge, one barely missing her chest. She looked back once, then suddenly bumped into something and found herself in front of a guillotine display. The sharp blade loomed above, and as Anne turned around, she realized she was stuck between it and the frog-bot. Seeing her trapped, the bot changed one of its’ hands into a drill, reeling it back before launching it full force at Anne’s head.

“Anne!” The teen heard someone shout her name before she was harshly pulled to the right, the drill rushing past her and colliding with the wall. The force caused the robot’s arm to get stuck, allowing Anne to look up and see that Caroline had been the one to pull her out of the way.

“Eat the rich!” Hop Pop’s voice suddenly rang out. Both girls saw him standing on the side of the guillotine, and he dropped the blade right on the robot’s stuck arm. The crunch of metal and the bot’s screech echoed through the room, but it gave them all just enough time to escape.

“It’s still not down!” Sprig cried. “Anne, how are we gonna stop this thing?” Anne looked up and down the hallway for an answer, but as her eyes landed on a mosasaur skeleton hanging from the ceiling, she stopped.

“I think I just got an idea.”

BAM!

In an instant, a shot hit the balcony railing and blasted it to pieces. The shock of it scattered all five of them, but Anne ended up being too close to the edge and was knocked over it.

“Whoa whoa WHOA-!” The teen cried as she flailed, trying to grab onto something. She barely managed to catch the balcony ledge, but she struggled to keep a hold with her fatigue weighing her down.

“ANNE!” The cry rang out from both Caroline and the Plantars, but the former’s attention was soon drawn as the robot emerged and started making its’ way to the ledge. A gasp of panic escaped her, but she suddenly noticed a large, double-ended spear next to her and got an idea.

“Hey oil breath!” She shouted. The bot suddenly froze mid stride, turning its’ attention just as the young woman slammed into it. The metal beast stumbled back, allowing Caroline to put herself between it and Anne with the spear at the ready.

“Why don’t you fight someone who can handle their sleep deprivation?” She challenged. Anne’s eyes widened at the woman’s actions, while the robot seemed to take her words personally, raising its’ arm and swinging. Caroline met it halfway, blocking the swipe and slashing at it. Claws met spear. Clashing metal echoed through the hall. The bot was fast. Swipe. Block. Dodge. Caroline kept up. She couldn’t let it win- she wouldn’t let it.

Meanwhile, the Plantars rushed over to the ledge, finding Anne just barely clinging to the side. Her arm was shaking, beads of sweat on her forehead as she relied on the last bit of strength she had.

“Give us your hand!” Hop Pop cried. The teen looked up at them and quickly raised her free arm, allowing the Plantars to grab hold and pull. The bot ended up noticing and growled, firing off laser shots that Caroline couldn’t block in time. They ended up barely missing the Plantars, but one collided with one of the mosasaur’s support ropes and snapped it. The whole skeleton went crashing down, shaking the building and making the Plantars lose their grip on Anne.

“Whoa!” The teen yelled as she began falling again, managing to snag one of the museum’s banners at the last second to slow herself. The banner strained and ripped from the sudden weight on it, but it had been just enough to allow Anne to land somewhat safely on the main floor. The Plantars quickly went after her, and the whole scene had distracted Caroline just enough for the bot to land a hit on her. She was knocked hard across the balcony, hitting her back and barely managing to recover as the robot pounced and pinned her.

“FREEZE!”

All action stopped as the museum’s main door was kicked open, revealing Dr. Jan and the two guards from earlier.

“Put your hands in the-…air..?” The two guards stared at the scene before them in confusion, while Dr. Jan’s eyes went up to the balcony where Caroline and the robot were. In an instant, the bot activated its’ cloaking, and Caroline felt the weight of it on her chest vanish as it fled the scene.

“No way.” Dr. Jan muttered. “A robot..?” She turned her eyes back to Anne and the Plantars, focusing mostly on Hop Pop as his hood had come off in the chaos. Anne seemed to notice it too, a look of panic crossing her features.

“Guys! Your disguises!” She said, quickly pulling Hop Pop’s hood over his face. Dr. Jan had already seen him clearly though, her eyes sparkling as she gasped in awe.

“Frog aliens!” She whispered excitedly.

“What the-? What is going on here?” One of the guards exclaimed. Anne and the Plantars froze while Caroline quickly got up, but much to her surprise, Dr. Jan stepped in first.

“I-I can’t believe I forgot!” She said. “Mitchell, Rodney, this has been a terrible misunderstanding. These are…performers! Rehearsing an exciting historical re-enactment…of some kind. We’ll clean this mess up tomorrow; you two can go home. I’ll take it from here.” Much to the group’s surprise, both guards let out sighs of relief.

“Whew! Thank goodness!” Rodney exclaimed, turning for the door.

“I knew it.” Mitchell added, following him out. “Night, Dr. Jan!” All six of them waited for the two guards to leave, which also gave Caroline time to climb down from the balcony and join the Plantars.

“Oh hey, Dr. Jan!” Anne said, trying to keep as casual a tone as possible. “So, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.”

“And I can’t wait to hear it!” Dr. Jan replied excitedly, turning to face the teen. “Frog aliens? Robots? Spill it, kid! This is a dream come true!” Anne’s expression turned wary, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the Plantars all looking up at her.

“We can’t do this on our own, Anne.” Hop Pop said. “Maybe it’s time we tried trusting someone.” Anne still seemed hesitant, turning her gaze over to Caroline to get her opinion.

“It’s your choice, kiddo.” The young woman told her. The teen took a breath before returning her focus to Dr. Jan, who was still donning an excited smile.

“Alright,” she said at last, “it’s kind of a long story.”

——————

After finishing her long explanation, Anne, Caroline, and the Plantars found they had been escorted over to Dr. Jan’s office. The curator had been listening intently to the whole story, hanging on Anne’s every word to the point she had forgotten to unlock the door.

“Wow, sounds like you’ve been through a lot.” She said, finally getting the door open. “I see why you’re in such a rush, but why the heist? Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Uh…it made sense earlier.” Anne replied. “If I’m honest, I’m sort of running on empty right now.”

“She hasn’t slept in days.” Sprig clarified. Dr. Jan frowned.

“Well, that’s no good.” She said. “Here, let me show you something.” She walked over to one of the many filing cabinets in the room, stopping next to a small display dome that was filled with dirt. All five of them went to look at it, and Caroline took a mental note of the plaque that read ‘Not-So Clever Girl’ at the bottom.

“Back when I was younger, I would stay up for days on a dig.” Dr. Jan explained. “I couldn’t go home knowing we were so close. But one time, I got sloppy with a dynamite charge, and well…this was a triceratops.” She pointed at the pile of dirt and dust in the dome, and all five of them grimaced at the realization.

“So, what you’re saying is,” Anne started, “if I keep this up, I may do more harm than good.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Caroline replied, walking up and ruffling her hair. “Oh, and before I forget; Dr. Jan, if you need someone to cover the damages that were caused, I’d be more than happy to. It wouldn’t be a problem.” Dr. Jan blinked in surprise.

“Oh, don’t worry about that!” She replied. “The museum’s got an insurance policy and stored replicas for incidents like this. Here, I’ll make you a deal instead; I’ll keep your secret and help you research this artifact if you make sure that one gets home and gets some sleep.” She pointed at Anne as she spoke, causing a small smile to form on the teen’s face.

“Deal.” She replied. “Thanks, Dr. Jan. Real quick though, before we go-” the teen moved over to the desk, lowering herself down so she was eye level with the pot, “-do you have a blacklight? I wanna check and see if this baby has any secret codes on it.”

“Blacklight?” Dr. Jan echoed, getting up from her desk and putting a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “Kid, go sleep. Take a day off; the world will still be spinning tomorrow.” She guided the group out of her office, but Hop Pop’s face turned sour.

“Still not sold on this ‘spinning globe’ theory.” He mumbled. Caroline sharply turned her gaze to him.

“Hop Pop, I will make you walk home.”

#shy anon writes #amphibia #amphibia self-insert #anne boonchuy #amphibia au #amphibia caroline #amphibia anne #sprig plantar #amphibia oc #amphibia sprig #amphibia hop pop #amphibia polly #amphibia dr jan #polly plantar #dr jan #hop pop plantar #amphibia: the wild soul

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nocek · 3 years

Note

Don't spare us the long rant! We want to hear your thoughts!

Oh you are going to regret this ;P

So here goes my loooooooong angry rant about Taskmaster and also the Black Widow movie in general.

Let's start with my point of comparison. Captain America the Winter Soldier was a good movie. It's still in my top 3 Marvel movies as I'm sure is for many people. And statistically speaking everybody likes Bucky. He is like the most beloved side character right after Loki. I guess.

Anyway. My point is that Taskmaster and Winter Soldier have bit for bit the exact same building blocks: hypercompetent antagonist that is a serious threat to our hero who just can't win with in one on one combat. But then plot twist: our antagonist was just a victim and puppet without free will in hands of actual villain who is bland bureaucrat.

So why did Winter Soldier worked really really well and Taskmaster was just ehh.. ok?

Well the short answer is that catws was a much tighter movie that had clearer goal (and also that goal/theme was singular: good things get corrupted with time and sometimes you get to start over) compared to black widow which had to jump through too many hoops and still somehow managed it but it wasn't as graceful as it would be if they (as in executives) resigned from one or two hoops and flips and explosions.

And I'm omitting a BIG disadvantage of making a prequel movie about a character that they killed off in shitty way. Though that created one of extra hoops for them to jump through: quickly build up Yelena as a character.

And character build they did. Because srsly Yelena is awesome and I love her. BUT. That came at a price.

Lets compare to catws. The new character there is Sam (and kiiiiiiiinda also Natasha a bit but that's a topic for a different rant) who is nowhere near as well build as Yelena. At the beginning. Because he had time to be fleshed out and naturally grow in few different movies and then we got a deep dive in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

But Marvel can't give Yelena few movies because she will appear in Hawkguy an Hawkeye series and also Marvel is generally dividing their assets into: outer spaaaace, down to earth heros and magic stuff (aliens, androids and wizards ;P). But also they can only create so many things in a year.

So yeah. Yelena offtopic can be summarized that I love that we have her as we have her but it came at a cost of air time of the movie.

So comparing the movies again:

Catws had the theme of good things being corrupted with time. And the theme was underlined 3 times through Peggy, Bucky and then Shield/Hydra. Which are interconnected and also make nice scale from inner conflict of the main character to the outer conflict of the movie.

In Black Widow there is the topic of the past evil that never went away and is still taking away free will from people. And again we have it shown through 3 outlets: Yelena, Taskmaster and Black Widows. But there is also whole family subplot attached to Yelena and there is Red Room attached to Black Widows. So as you can see things are getting crowded. Which in turn make the theme a bit blurry.

I mean, sure, the Red Room should be the Shield equivalent. Even it could take smaller space because good Shield turns out to be evil Hydra is generally more time consuming to explain than Red Room bad. But still combining Red Room and Black Widows make things a bit crowded.

(There is a reason why the surprise subplot of there is more Winter Soldiers was in separate movie and was kinda handwaved and cut to minimum. But they couldn't do that here).

But it's time to stop my ranting about whole Black Widow movie and focus on comparing Taskmaster and Winter Soldier.

Because to be honest both are bare bones of character and more of an carte blanche in the movie. Both have barely any screen time yet there are colossal difference which stems out of:

first introduction: as I mentioned they are hypercompetent and unstoppable threat that you can't win with, you can only hope to run away (both done equally well)

programmable killing machine:

For Taskmaster we just get a scene with her watching other heroes fighting at the screen. For the sake of building up the mystery of character we think that "he" is just watching. Maybe learning or more likely just being creepy. The information about the chip and literal programming is given to us much later in the movie which makes this scene lose the power. idk how it will work on rewatch? Maybe better? Hopefully. right now there is too many new movies in cinemas to go for a rewatch and disney+ still isn't available here -.-

For Bucky we have literal torture scene. You just can't be more blunt than that. It also hammered the next point in.

there is human behind the mask:

Winter Soldier is introduced with full face mask which he gradually loses and then we have the big reveal of not only: that's a human but also that's a human our main hero cares about deeply.

With Taskmaster they fucked up it for chap plot twist. We are learning quite late that oh snap that's Antonia (that we don't really care about) and our main hero kinda feels guilty about her.

I think the big difference is what kind of character Steve and Nat are and also the way they reveal this secret. Steve actively recognizes Bucky by himself and is very openly shocked. Nat is passively told and shown that hey, this is Antonia. And there is no time in the movie for Nat (and for us) to be shocked because that's the 3rd act and we need time for explosions and stuff.

Besides, the problem is that all the big plot twist reveals are boring on rewatch (stil big props for Pacific Rim and giving us the monster reveal in like second minute of the movie, I will never not appreciate that).

Also on related shitty note. We the audience. Bucky is handsome and vulnerable and we can drool all over him (and oh man, we the fandom did a fair share of drooling). Antonia is disfigured and not sexualized in any way. Which I'm actually grateful for but there is no pretending that doesn't make a hell lot of difference. But that's a whole different, ugly and big topic I'm not remotely qualified to write about. I'm just angry ranting here.

they don't have free will:

For Winter Soldier we have amnesia + torture tropes which to be honest have been done over and over again and it shouldn't have worked as well as it worked. Bit it did. In context of Black Widow movie it worked because it was just one guy that actively broke through brainwashing with active help of the hero.

In Black Widow there is a lot of characters that are pasively "woken up" out of mind control over and over again by active protagonist. Unfortunately the repetition kinda cheapens it. Especially in comparison to main gut punch right in the feels scene in the other movie. Which is why it's not fair to compare the two.

So lets talk about lack of free will aspect itself. To be honest the mind control aspect in Black Widow was done really great from story perspective. Evil scientists perfected it to the point it being (bit handwavey but) completely impersonal but also completely dehumanizing to the subject. So I'm buying that it can be completely switched off in equally efficient and impersonal way. Even the way they explained it with Alexei the pig was great and terrifying... to a point. Because then kicked the main problem with this movie. Clearly some execs came and saw it and went whoa... that's too dark for pg13 blockbuster. Let's put some cheap jokes here. And it happens over and over again in this movie :S

humanizing flashback scene that ties them to main hero:

For Bucky, sure we had Captain America First Avenger but a movie needs to stand on it's own legs. That's why we have the flashback scene which shows us that Bucky cared about Steve. Leaving it at the narration in Smithsonian of "best friends since childhood" would be just telling us. And we needed to be shown and we needed a space for the "till the end of line" so it could come back and stab us right in the feels.

Also because we are ignoring previous movie Russos cleverly made us care about Winter Soldier because Steve cares about Winter Soldier. And we already know and like Steve so building up our main character gives us more mileage out of new bare bones character (because let's be honest, Winter Soldier is just that). Two birds one stone thing.

In Black Widow there is no such thing which IMHO is the main reason Taskmaster doesn't work. We just get information about cardboard cutout: insert cute little girl here (only told, not even shown actual cardboard) and all of the emotional connection to Natasha is: I know that my boss that I hate has a daughter, she got in the crossfire. Which means nobody cares.

All it would take is adding a short flashback scene. idk Dreykov is an asshole and doesn't care about Antonia but she is she cutest and most adorable little girl. She treats the Black Widows as older sisters. Hell if you want to make it more horrorish copy of the idea of Thor wanting to be a Valkyrie when he grows up or T'challa wanting to be a Dora Milaje. Little Antonia wants to be Black Widow when she grows up because they are badass and they are nice to her (and are also slightly confused by her) because she is nice to them and is only person that treats them as humans. Hell we could have short interaction between her and Nat. Just a smile between them would be enough.

You could get a lot of character buildup mileage out of such a short scene.

But it couldn't happen partially because the movie didn't have time for that but we didn't get that mostly because it would show us instead of telling that Nat killed a cute little innocent girl for her own personal gain. (well she thought she was destroying Red Room but mostly wanted to get away - vide she didn't check on Yelena or other widows. But I wouldn't hold that against her. It was put your oxygen mask first kind of situation. But still it would make her look bad)

Besides, that would take guts to actually show.

And technically they could have afforded to have that guts. That was last movie with Nat anyway. It would actually make this plotline about her feeling guilty about Dreykov's daughter and red in her ledger work. But well... It was last movie so they wanted to leave us with the most goodest and bleeding hartest and heartwarming mary sue version of Nat with just telling us without showing hey, she got dark past.

On the other hand if we had the rumored Endgame plotline of Nat running an orphanage. Damn that would tie to this plotline so well. We could tie the loose widows also. Dam we were robbed here I tell ya >.<

Ok I'm overdoing offtopic about Nat. Sorry

design

So yeah. Design wise Winter Soldier is like great. For Taskmaster, she sure looks cool but also kinda generic? If in 10 years you'd show me her and say it's antagonist from GI Joe or something I'll believe you :S (not touching the debate that in comics something something because unfortunately I don't know Taskmaster from comics. Although I hear that few recent ones were quite good so I'll check them out sooner or later)

snapping out of mind control

I mentioned before. It would be unfair and there is no point comparing main emotional scene of the movie versus means to an end that were repeated several times through a movie.

Natasha freeing Antonia even if she thought that Antonia will kill her because that would fair was great. What I'm annoyed is a cheap fakeout that went with that. It was just after the bombastic finale with explosions and all the cgi shit. Even without looking at the movie runtime it was obvious there will be no extra fight scene.

In catws it worked because the cgi pew pew extravaganza was a background noise and was part of a continuous fight. In BW helicarriers fell already, there was a second of dust settling and then Nat throws away the shield (uses that capsule). Tension just fell from highest place in a movie (quite literally lol), trying to rise it again for such a short moment just doesn't work.

But that's the general problem with Marvel movies. Bombastic CGI fest as grand finale that probably is "outsourced" and then actual director comes back and needs to end movie super quickly.

disappearing act at the end

So in catws there is mystery of what will Bucky do. We are given some hope since he dragged Steve out of river and visited the museum but thats all. I mean there is this annoying Marvel thing of skipping over the interesting ending of last movie and starting with next plot point. We were hoping for the grand roadtrip/hunt for Bucky but nope. We must run ahead with all the plotlines (same way I'm sure that the Spiderman is Peter Parker and he killed a guy thing will be already dealt with in the beginning of the next movie -.-) But that's bonus mini rant.

In BW they needed to wrap up to many plot lines too quickly so Antonia wakes up and that's all. We don't get a suggestion what she may do. The problem of the chip she still has installed is omitted. There is nothing. She just fucks off to lalaland with other Black Widows the end. Because we needed ending for Nat's actual family which was ok but also kinda rushed.

As I mentioned waaaay before (god, this rant is pretty long) too many hoops to jump through.

Which really sucks because if they added that one flashback scene just for Antonia and spared few more minutes for the overall ending it would work so much more better.

And I even know where they could have saved few minutes (besides the explosions thingies). The supply guy. One extra character in a movie with too many characters. In catws the supply problem (with wings) was solved with nbd shrug. If you wanted to show that Nat has her own web of contacts it should be more than one guy. IDK in Budapest there could be 10 second scene with neighbor saying hi nice to see you again we reinforced the walls after last time. In Norway we could see her visiting some special secret supply stash run by some rando before getting to the mobile home.

But oh she was on the run so that would be too many people. Then cut the people entirely. The shitty helicopter can be worked around with joke that I'm not on speaking terms with Stark rn and that's the best we can have on short notice.

Eh.. side rant again. Sorry.

So to wrap it up. I actually really would love to see what will happen with the loose Black Widows and Antonia because here they were really underdeveloped. And while widows were more of a group hero and we have Yelena as a representative so in a way it balances out but Taskmaster needed so little extra care to make her character so much better and I'm a tiiiiiiny bit salty about it.

#text post #long post #very long rant #black widow #black widow spoilers #black widow movie #black widow 2021 #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #i kinda doubt we will see her again #but one can hope #if anyone actually read through all of this congratz!#and thank you #let me hug you #(and I'm sorry it's so long)

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snappedsky · 3 years

Text

Fanatics 87.13

With a little help, the Battalion finally get home. One of these AUs was Johnny the Recovering Maniac by @devnny I believe they also came up with the nickname 'Bunny' for the other AU, Devi the Homicidal Maniac.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Lost in the Multiverse Part 13

Zim, Tak, Gaz, Pepito, and Tenna rest on the ground and curiously watch the agents, Heavy Metal and 8-Bit. 8-Bit is holding some kind of octagonal device that’s displaying a holographic screen while Heavy Metal looks out at the surrounding crowd of Zims.

“Haven’t seen that many Zims since the botched cloning experiment,” he comments, “remember that?”

“Yup,” 8-Bit nods, “lot of stress release that day.” Heavy Metal chuckles in response.

“Hey!” Zib shouts from atop his Dib robot. Both of them are still frozen in Heavy Metal’s energy. “Release me this instant!”

“Y’know,” Heavy Metal sighs, “I was gonna let you keep the robot but…” He points at it with his hand and clenches his fist. The robot shatters into pieces and Zib shouts with surprise as he falls. He catches himself with his PAK appendages before he hits the ground and glares at Heavy Metal.

“How dare you!” he barks, “who do you think you are?”

“I told you,” Heavy Metal replies, “I’m Agent Heavy Metal of Earth’s Dimensional Battalion. The better question is, who do you think you are? Some kind of…Dib and Zim hybrid?”

��I am Dib!”

“Dib! The Dib! The Dib is vulnerable!” the army of Zims start shouting excitedly and begin to close in.

“Ugh, so noisy,” 8-Bit groans.

“Yup,” Heavy Metal agrees and takes a deep breath. He suddenly grows over 8 feet tall; his horns and fangs get longer, he grows wings and spikes out of his shoulders, and his eyes grow bright red as he shrieks, “SILENCE!”

The Zims immediately shut up, trembling with fear. Heavy Metal shrinks back down to normal size and clears his throat. “Hey, Heavy Metal,” 8-Bit says, “come look at this.”

He trots to her side and she shows him the holographic screen she’s been looking at.

“Whoa,” he breathes with bewilderment. “No wonder the Bureau has never found this place. If we didn’t know what to look for, we never would’ve found it either.”

“Hey,” Zim snaps, grabbing their attention. “Zim demands to know what is going on.” “Of course you do,” 8-Bit grunts. “Hush now, little Zim,” Heavy Metal says patronizingly. “Adults are talking.” Zim snarls with annoyance while Heavy Metal looks at the crowd of other Zims.

“I guess we can’t just leave them here then,” he remarks.

“Why not?” 8-Bit questions.

“I mean…we can. But we shouldn’t.”

“Eh,” she shrugs.

“We’ll need help though,” Heavy Metal says, “send a signal to Squad A.” “Um, excuse me,” Pepito says, stepping forward. “Can you please tell us what’s going on?” Heavy Metal and 8-Bit share an annoyed and exhausted look, then Heavy Metal sighs.

“We’re here to get you back to your dimension so we can restore balance to the universe,” he explains with irritation.

“Balance?” Tak questions.

“Right,” he nods, “at least, that was the plan. But because of the nature of this dimension, your disappearance isn’t causing any kind of imbalance. Which explains why all of these Zims were able to disappear from their dimension without a trace.” “This dimension?” Tak questions, “why, what is it? Some kind of pocket dimension?”

“I told you, it’s the Pandora’s Quadrangle,” Zib snaps.

“The what?” Heavy Metal guffaws like that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “How long did it take you come up with that? No, no, this rock is the last remaining piece of this dimension and its Earth.”

“What?” the Battalion exclaim and look at Zib accusingly.

“What happened here?” Zim demands.

Zib rolls his eyes with annoyance. “Alright, fine. After I defeated Zim and the Armada, I tried to upscale my Irken-tech-zapper prototype to a planetary scale, so I could stop all Irken across the galaxy. But it overloaded the Armada’s generators creating an energy wave that had the unfortunate side effect of, you know…destroying the entirety of my reality.”

“You call that a side effect?” Gaz snaps.

“But the explosion also tore all these holes through the fabric of reality, creating Pandora’s Quadrangle!” he continues, “that’s how I discovered there were infinite alternate timelines- which means infinite do overs!”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Heavy Metal groans with annoyance. “Alright, enough talk from the crazy Zim/Dib hybrid.”

“I am Dib!” Zib barks.

“8-Bit, call Squad A so we can clean up this dead dimension,” Heavy Metal orders, ignoring him.

“Fine,” she groans and taps her holographic screen.

“What’s Squad A?” Pepito asks.

“Our friends,” Heavy Metal and smiles at him. “Who should most likely be with your friends.” In the other dimension, the sun is just starting to rise over the horizon. On Grave Road, a neighbor leaves their house to head out for work and sees a large group of people in front of house number 777, with the owner of the house unconscious and tied up to the streetlamp. One of them is looking at an octagonal device displaying a holographic screen. He looks up and gives a friendly wave, “morning.”

The neighbor waves back with uncertainty before hurrying into their car and driving away.

“Must you interact with the locals?” Agent Nightshade asks drily.

“Just being friendly,” Agent Ectoplasm replies, “have you distributed the stabilizers yet?”

“Working on it,” he grunts as he removes a small sac from his belt. As he reaches inside and removes a tiny disc, he approaches younger!Devi.

“May I have your arm please?” he asks.

She looks at him warily and he cocks his head. She holds out her arm and he presses the disc to her wrist and it unfolds into a bracelet.

“What is this?” she asks as she examines it. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s too tight to remove.

“A dimensional stabilizer,” Nightshade replies as he puts one on younger!Johnny, then the rest of the younger group, then moves on to the Battalion. He stops when he sees the knife stuck in Johnny’s hand. “You’re injured.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, “it doesn’t hurt.” Nightshade holds out his hand. “May I?”

Johnny shrugs and gives him his injured hand. With swift, precise movements, Nightshade pulls out the knife- tossing it aside- removes a small vial from his belt, and puts a drop of its contents on the wound. Instantly, the injury seals up, leaving just the fresh blood behind.

“Whoa,” Johnny breathes in awe as he examines his hand. “Not even a scar.”

“Your wrist please,” Nightshade requests. He puts a dimensional stabilizer on him and the rest of the group.

“Okay, who are you people?” Dib asks, “you said you would explain when we’re with our friends.” “Right,” Nightshade sighs and looks at Ectoplasm.

“I did it last time,” he says, looking up from his device. “It’s your turn.” Nightshade groans and rubs the back of his neck. “We are Earth’s Dimensional Battalion. One of our duties is maintaining the balance of reality on Earth.”

“Why the nicknames?” younger!Tenna asks.

“Codenames,” Ectoplasm corrects pedantically.

“There are…certain forces that don’t approve of us dimensionally travelling, no matter how safe we do it,” Nightshade explains, “the codenames help keep them off our trail.” “And what are these?” Dib asks, pointing to the metal bracelet on his wrist. “Dimensional stabilizers,” he replies, “everyone belongs in their dimension, so when you leave it to go to another, it causes an imbalance in reality. Should the imbalance not be rectified, reality will literally crumble. That’s what that is.” He points to the sky at the big, purple rift that appears to be slowly shrinking. “The stabilizers create a kind of artificial balance allowing you to travel freely through timelines, instead of hopping haphazardly about like dimensional rabbits.” “Hey, this isn’t our fault,” Dib insists.

“Yeah, we’re here because of Olivia,” Squee adds.

“Olivia…” Nightshade muses and leans closer to Ectoplasm. “Am I supposed to know that name?”

“No, never heard of her,” he replies.

“You don’t know Olivia?” Dib asks.

“Infinite universe, infinite possibilities,” Nightshade shrugs, “our differences can range from large to miniscule. In any case, we’ll be sending you all back to your proper universes to restore balance.”

“Hang on, how come you don’t have to wear one of these stabilizers?” younger!Dib asks.

“We do,” he replies and taps the Battalion emblem on his chest. “That’s what these are. Anymore questions? Good. Ectoplasm, we almost done here?”

“Almost,” he replies, “we’ll send the two groups back and be home before dinner. Make sure they have everything.”

“Oh, right,” Nightshade nods and hurries to the car they arrived in. He reaches into the backseat and pulls out a leather bag about the size of a garbage bag, which he hands to Johnny. “Here.”

“What is it?” he asks.

“All those demon parts you left scattered about the other dimension,” he replies.

“Ah,” he grunts.

“That wasn’t all him,” Squee admits.

“I bet not,” Nightshade nods then points at their similar sweaters. “Nice hoodie, by the way.” “Yeah, it’s interesting how your fashion sense doesn’t differ much between dimensions,” Ectoplasm comments as he glances at Todd, who is wearing a t-shirt that’s near similar to Squee’s.

“Okay, first of all, fashion sense is a needless social construct,” Nightshade argues, “also, fuck you. All three versions of you are wearing that exact same coat.”

“It makes me look cool and mysterious.”

“Does it?” “Whatever,” Ectoplasm grunts, “I’m ready to go. Does everyone have everything?” “Um,” younger!Devi says, “I need my leash.”

“Oh,” Nightshade replies as he looks at Vi and Johnathan. “That’s yours? Alright.”

He kneels next to her and starts unwrapping the leash from the pole. As he loosens her hands and goes to undo the collar, her eyes suddenly pop open and she tackles him to dirt.

“Vi!” Johnathan exclaims while the others cry out with surprise. She sits atop Nightshade and squeezes his throat. But before she can do too much damage, he suddenly jabs an injector into her arm. She gasps in shock and immediately goes limp.

Nightshade sits up, rubbing his neck. “That was rude.” “What’d you do?” Johnathan as he kneels next to Vi.

“Just a paralytic,” he replies, “completely harmless. It’ll pass through her system in a few minutes.”

Johnathan rolls her over and cradles her head on her lap. As she looks up at him, her expression softens. “Bunny.”

“Bunny?” the two other Johnny’s question with disgust while the two Devi’s, younger!Tenna, and Squee crack up.

“That’s cute, I’ll have to remember that,” Nightshade smirks.

“Alright, alright, let’s wrap this up,” Ectoplasm orders as he puts a square device on the ground. It unfolds and spreads out in a large, round metal plate with a red light in the middle. “Group A, one by one please stand on the teleporter to get sent back to your universe.”

“Which one’s group A?” Dib asks.

“These guys,” Nightshade replies as he approaches the younger group. “Your wrists please.”

He begins removing the stabilizers by pressing a hidden button on the bracelet. As they fold back up into tiny squares, he puts them into the bag on his belt until they’re off the whole group. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Finally,” younger!Zim groans and steps onto the teleporter. He immediately disappears into a burst of red light. Younger!Dib and younger!Gaz are quick to follow.

“Does…does it hurt?” Todd asks nervously.

“Not even a little bit,” Nightshade replies.

Todd looks at Squee and waves goodbye. Squee smiles and waves back before Todd steps onto the teleporter. Younger!Pepito waves as well before following.

“Well, this has been a hell of an adventure,” younger!Devi comments, “you really deal with this kind of thing all the time?”

“Not exactly this kind of thing,” Devi replies, “but, y’know.” “Right. I’ve never been happier to have the life I have.” “Yeah. Good luck with that.” “You too.” Younger!Tenna steps onto the teleporter, followed by younger!Devi. Younger!Johnny looks back at the Battalion before awkwardly waving and following suit.

“Alright, let’s move on to group B,” Nightshade orders.

“Before that,” Ectoplasm says, “we got a signal from Team A. We gotta go meet them.”

“Ugh,” he groans with annoyance. “What did they do?”

“Who knows,” he replies, “but I’m locked onto their signal.” “Fine, fine,” he grunts and motions to the teleporter. “Everyone, step on. We’re gonna go meet your friends before we send you home.” “Our friends?” Dib questions.

“Yes. Come on, come on. Chop chop.”

One by one, the Battalion steps onto the teleporter. Ectoplasm picks up the device and it folds back into a square that he attaches to his belt. He nods politely to Vi and Johnathan before he and Nightshade press on their emblems and disappear.

The Battalion appear rather suddenly in the Zimvoid. They look around, a little dizzy and nonplussed.

“That’s disorienting,” Dib comments.

“Guys!” Tenna cheers.

“Tenna!” Devi exclaims.

They along with the two halves of the Battalion race to each other excitedly, while Johnny stands aside. They hug and talk over each other happily.

Johnny looks around with shock at the surrounding Zims. “What is this place?”

“That’s a good question,” Nightshade remarks as he and Ectoplasm appear from out of nowhere.

“A Dib!” one of the Zims barks.

“Two Dibs!” another adds.

“Dib! Dib! Dib!” all of the Zims begin to chant and charge in. The Battalion looks at them fearfully before Heavy Metal throws up his arms and creates a black barrier around them. The Zims slam against it and climb along it like roaches.

“What is this place?” Nightshade asks as he and Ectoplasm approach Heavy Metal and 8-Bit.

“They call it the Zimvoid,” 8-Bit replies and nods at Zib, who backs away from the barrier and the attacking Zims. “That idiot destroyed his dimension and lured a bunch of Zims here to attack their dimensions.” “What is he?” Nightshade asks, “some kind of…Dib and Zim hybrid?”

“Fascinating,” Ectoplasm comments.

“I am Dib!” Zib barks.

“Maybe if you say it enough times, you’ll start to believe it,” Heavy Metal remarks.

“We have to send all of these Zims back to their dimensions,” Ectoplasm says.

“They’re not gonna listen to us now,” Heavy Metal points out. “The sight of Dibs has completely set them off.”

“I know. This is bad,” he sighs, “we’ll have to call for back up.”

“No, no, no,” Nightshade begs, “if we do, he’ll never let us live it down.” “I know, but we have no choice. Only a Zim can control a Zim.”

8-Bit, Nightshade, and Heavy Metal groan loudly with annoyance and disgust.

“I’m signalling,” Ectoplasm declares as he grabs his hologram device. While he taps the screen, Nightshade approaches the Battalion.

“I guess you guys don’t need these anymore,” he says as he begins to remove the stabilizers.

“Who are you calling?” Squee asks.

“Our…boss…”

A few minutes later, another Tak suddenly appears in the middle of the barrier. She’s wearing the same black body suit, utility belt, and Battalion symbol as the other members of Earth’s Dimensional Battalion. She also has shoulder-length, black gloves with a purple stripe and matching thigh-high, platform boots. The left side of her face is covered with metal plating and she has a cybernetic eye that emulates an Irken’s.

“You guys are really asking for it this time,” she comments as she approaches the other agents.

Soon, another Zim appears. Along with same uniform, he’s also wearing elbow-length black gloves and high, platform boots, as well as pink shoulder guards and matching cape with a high neck.

“Galactic,” Ectoplasm greets, “Tallest.”

“Agents,” the Zim greets, “can’t handle a simple rebalancing mission?”

“I think if you take a quick glance around, Tallest,” he replies, “you’ll see it’s not so simple anymore.” Tallest turns around as he examines the multitude of Zims crawling around the barrier. “Yes. It’s a nice looking group.” “Ugh,” Nightshade and 8-Bit groan with annoyance.

“Galactic, put up a shield,” Tallest orders. The Tak- Galactic- obeys as spider legs stretch out of her PAK and put up a force field just below Heavy Metal’s. “Heavy Metal, drop your barrier.” He obliges and the Zims fall against Galactic’s shield. “Now, Galactic, blow them back.” Galactic’s shield blows outward, knocking the Zims back. As they clatter against the ground, Tallest rises high up on his spider legs.

“Eyes on me, my fellow Zims!” he shouts, his voice reaching far. “You have been lured here and abandoned. You are lost and far from home. You have been pitted against one another to prove you are the greatest. But you forget: we are Zim! We are all great!”

“But I am the greatest!” he declares, “I have achieved what every Zim desires! I took over my Earth and now rule over it! Do you not wish to be like me?” The other Zims mutter amongst themselves agreeably.

“You can achieve this too! It is possible for all Zims to rule over their respective Earth. We shall return you to your dimensions so that you may work towards this goal. Now, I understand you have all been numbered. Line up in single file in order of your number, and we shall send each and every one of you home, where you belong.” The Zims all agree and begin to obey, quickly lining up in order of their numbers. Tallest lowers back to his feet and faces his agents.

“Was that so hard?” he asks.

“Not for you,” 8-bit grunts.

“Yes, everything is easy for me.” The agents groan exhaustedly.

“Now then, to work,” Tallest orders. “Ectoplasm, obtain each dimensional signal. Nightshade, mind the teleporter. Galactic, 8-Bit, police the line. Heavy Metal, fly around and make sure we have all the Zims.”

“First, we need to send this group home,” Nightshade says, nodding to the Battalion.

“Very well,” he replies dismissively.

“I have their signal all ready,” Ectoplasm says.

“Alright, kids, time to go,” Nightshade orders, nodding to the teleporter.

“Thanks for your help,” Dib says.

“It’s our job,” he shrugs.

“Make sure you take care of your Earth,” Ectoplasm says.

The Battalion nod and one by one, they step onto the teleporter and disappear.

They all appear in the middle of the city, just outside the Membrane house. They look around with confusion and notice the purple rift in the sky. It has shrunk significantly to a sliver and is still shrinking.

“Are we back home?” Gaz asks.

“I think so,” Pepito replies, “it feels like home.” “We have to hurry to my house,” Squee orders.

“Hang on,” Zim orders and grabs a small remote from his PAK. He pushes a button and soon the Epic flies to them, landing by their feet. They all climb inside and fly back to Johnny and Squee’s house.

As soon as they land, they all jump out and stop as they see the door is hanging off its hinges and both the windows are broken.

“We’re too late,” Squee sighs with defeat and races inside.

“Guys!” Colton exclaims as he runs out of his house, Nugget at his feet. “Where have you been?” “Long story,” Dib replies while Johnny picks up Nugget. “Did you see what happened here?”

“It was insane!” he comments. “The Night Terrors showed up and started fighting that Olivia chick and her demons.” “So the Night Terrors did get his message,” Devi gasps, “where are they?”

“Olivia dragged them through a giant hole in the ground and it sealed up!”

“What?” Pepito snaps.

“A hole?” Dib questions, “where did she take them?”

“To Hell,” he growls.

“That’s not all,” Squee says as he exits the house, carrying an empty jewelry box. “She also got the Spirit Notebook.”

---

“2167…2168…2169…” “Finally,” Nightshade groans and lies on the ground as the last Zim disappears on the teleporter. After what felt like ages, Earth’s Dimensional Battalion has cleaned out the Zimvoid.

“And this morning I was thinking this would be a quick mission,” 8-Bit yawns.

“Yeah. So much for being home by dinner,” Ectoplasm sighs.

“At least it’s over now,” Heavy Metal points out.

“Almost,” Galactic says and points at Zib. “What do we do with him?”

Zib glares at them defensively.

“I mean, we could just leave him here,” Heavy Metal suggests, “this was his dimension that he destroyed.” “We can’t just leave him entirely alone,” Ectoplasm argues.

“Why not?” 8-Bit scoffs.

“Because,” Nightshade replies, “that kind of endless loneliness is the worst kind of torture.”

“So, again I ask,” Galactic says, “what do we do with him?” “We’ll take him with us,” Tallest declares.

“Really?” the agents questions.

“Really?” Zib questions.

“Since his dimension was destroyed, his presence in ours won’t cause any imbalance,” Tallest points out, “and I’ve never seen a human merge with an Irken PAK before. It’s quite fascinating.” “That’s what I said,” Ectoplasm says.

“We could mold him into a useful agent,” he continues, “or at worst, an interesting research subject.” Tallest approaches Zib. “What do you say? Not that you have any choice, of course.” Zib stares at him, speechless, before nodding.

“Excellent! Let’s go home.” Ectoplasm sets the teleporter to their home dimension and Zib steps on it. Then, he packs the teleporter back up and Earth’s Dimensional Battalion tap their Battalion emblems and disappear from the Zimvoid.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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fairlyabookie · 3 years

Text

Walking in Winter Wonderland

A/n: The following is a Secret Santa gift I wrote for a friend! Enjoy!

Content is under the cut!

Snowflakes dance by gentle thrums of the wind, a graceful waltz midst a white landscape. A soprano note rings clearly amongst barren trees, its branches shuddering by the cruel wind. Another joins, a baritone sweeping the soprano into the wind, a blend of warm voices gracing the sober landscape with wishes of a bright spring.

The duet continues, waking nothing but the quivering trees and the thick snow blanketing the earth. Voices fade to the silence, deafening snow diminishing any disturbances.

“Ah yes, what a beautiful morning for a little song. Thank you for joining me on this fine morning, mon tresor. A duet with a friend makes a song beautiful, don’t you think so?”

“If you say so, Rook. Hey, why don’t we go back inside? It’s hella cold.”

“Ah, but of course, my dear friend. We shouldn’t be out here any longer. The cold air may not be good for our vocal cords.”

“Says the one who wanted to sing first thing in the morning.” [Reader] scoffs, prodding their companion with an elbow. Rook merely responds with a smile, locking arms with [Reader] as the two merrily partake in their stroll. The two friends bicker in jest, warm smiles gracing their lips.

Winter coats austere profiles of the Seven in sheets of white, remnants of snow scattering about the pathway. Morning graces the skies in warm shades of peony and blushing rose, casting gold on ginger locks. A young man idles by, his eyes plastered on a bright screen of his phone. Only when he looks up when he hears a familiar greeting from Rook.

“Ah, Monsieur Magicam! Care to join us in this fine morning?”

The Heartslabyul student returns the greeting with a wide grin. “Good morning, Rook! I see that you two are up and early. No fair, I wanted to take [Reader] for a walk~”

His lips curl to a playful pout as he takes his place next to [Reader].

“Oh, you didn’t respond to my text messages when we tried contacting you earlier. We assumed you were fast asleep in your room.”

The youth quips with a sheepish smile, earning an amused chuckle from Rook.

“So sorry about that! Everyone was busy walking the hedgehogs for their first walk in the morning, and I was designated breakfast duty with Trey. These excuses sound very lame with our appointment, but I promise to make it up next time!”

“Fufu, that’s a first I’ve seen Monsiuer MagiCam this flustered. Fear not, my friend, we still have enough time to do our fun!”

A smile lightens up the youth’s face.

“How nice of you, Rook! Don’t mind if I do!”

Taking his place next to [Reader], Cater locks his arm around theirs.

“Fufu, this beckons for a picture, don’t you think so, Monsieur MagiCam?”

“I didn’t think of that! Do you mind, [Reader]?”

“Not at all!”

“3, 2, 1, Pose!”

With quick hands, Cater pulls up his phone, readies the camera app, and prompts for a photo of his smiling friends in an armlock. Click.

“You’re so right, Rook! We look cute in this pic! I’m sooo posting this on my socmed~ Thank you~”

“I need not to boast my keen sense of aesthetic to you, Monsieur MagiCam. All I need to do is simply point it out and voilà, beauty before your eyes!”

From Rook’s statement, [Reader] had to check the picture. The picture was almost dazzling, the snow-covered Statues in the background and bright smiles lighting the up world of snow.

“Very pretty picture~” [Reader] coos, their gaze drinking in the wintry aesthetic of the picture.

“Whoa, you can definitely see the Statue of the Seven in the background. You picked up a good angle on this one, Rook! Uploading in MagiCam right now~”

“Make sure to tag me in there!” [Reader] quips.

“Sure, sure~” Cater complies with a grin.

“Oh!” A sudden exclamation from Rook startles the two from their stupor.

“Please go ahead of me, I’m now needed by mon etolie for an appointment. You two be best on your way without me. I shall catch up with you later. Au revoir, my friends!”

“See you later, Rook!” Cater and [Reader] cry out in unison. The third-year, with a grandiose bow and wink, bid the two farewell, leaving the two friends alone at Main Street.

“So, what were you two doing earlier while I was busy helping around?” Cater asks with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, we just sang for a bit before you got here. We were supposed to go inside, since singing in the cold was probably a bad idea.”

“Oh, we should totally do that then! Our dorm has some leftover warm peppermint tea from our prep this morning.”

“I’d love that, thank you, Cater!” With brisk steps, the two friends head off to the warmth of the Heartslabyul Dorm, where the dormitory bustled with life. Out of breath Heartslabyul residents carrying all sorts of trinkets about them greet the newcomers, some of them conversing with Cater here and there.

“[Reader], have you eaten breakfast yet?”

A lowly growl answers Cater’s question.

“Sorry…” mumbles a flustered [Reader], chuckling nervously from the ordeal.

A cackle bubbles from Cater’s lips.

“Perfect! The others told me that we have leftover breakfast in the kitchen. Let’s go eat up!”

With a shy smile, [Reader] thanks Cater and the two begin their day with a hearty meal.

After breakfast, the youths stroll amongst snow-capped rosebushes, pale white painting the petals of roses as if to match the snow. “Hey, [Reader].”

“Yeah?”

Cater lets out a nervous chuckle before starting, peridot orbitals glistening in shades of green from pale sunlight.

“Ah, I’m not good at this..”

“Is there something the matter, Cater?”

The ginger-haired youth inhales sharply, averting his eyes shyly from [Reader]’s watchful gaze. Take your time, they quietly urge him with a patient smile. Jade orbitals glisten by the light of pale sunlight, a smile of certainty when he comes to an answer.

“Aha, I don’t know where to start…”

He huffs once more. The more he hesitated, the more Cater’s friendly and sociable demeanor disintegrated. This wasn’t the first he’d show vulnerability.. There were times when he let slip the friendly mask to someone more vulnerable, more honest, and more true to his character.. Cater Diamond’s true character was difficult to discern, especially with his “Split Card” ability.

“You can say that I’m tired..”

He lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Take your time.” An encouraging remark strengthens his resolve.

“I was thinking that I should be more honest from here on out. Tell people how I really feel, you know. I know everyone knows me as this quite pathetic personality who is always on MagiCam all the time, but I honestly fear losing my friends if I ever make friends with them. All because I end up leaving them. My constant moving around is inexcusable, if you think about it~”

[Reader]’s lips perk to a playful smirk.

“Inexcusable? You have everyone else at NRC and Heartslabyul who you can count on. If you feel alone, you can always come to me or anyone. That is, if you trust us..”

Their words fade away to the wind, hesitation letting unsaid words perish to nothing. Does Cater trust me? A question worth pondering as [Reader] frets. He was awfully quiet, as if contemplating his answer.

A soft smile curls at Cater’s lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment, [Reader]. I can try my best on this, but I can’t guarantee my progress.”

A warm hand upon the young man’s shoulder was enough to spark attention.

“Don’t talk yourself down, Cater. Any progress is good progress. You don’t have to force yourself.”

Warmth permeates peridot orbitals, brilliant green upon white, as a genuine smile graces Cater’s lips.

“Thank you, [Reader].”

Upon a backdrop of clear skies as blue as a sea of bluebells, two youths bask in the wintry embrace of Jack Frost with their arms linked together.

#twst x reader #rook hunt #cater diamond #wrapped with love #twisted wonderland cater #twisted wonderland rook

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pemfrost · 3 years

Note

Can you please write a Spideynova with jealous Sam? :)

I’m not sure if this 100% counts, but I tried :D (I didn’t edit, sorry for any typos. I’ll fix ‘er up before I post to AO3)

Sam's head fell against his open biology book and for once he was thankful for how thick the damn thing was. It was almost midnight, and instead of relaxing -or god forbid, sleeping- he was cramming for a final. It was the unglamorous part of being a superhero while also being a high school student. Yea, getting out of a boring lecture to save lives was great and all, but it added up. And it added up quickly.

"Can we just call it a night?" His voice was muffled by the book, but he knew Peter would understand well enough.

Originally, they all studied as a team. Or, tried to. Sam was absolutely fine with how things shook out after Ava stormed out on one session. Now, they took turns rotating to study in smaller groups. It was easier for Sam to focus this way, with fewer distractions. And fewer arguments over the appropriate amount of non-school conversations.

Sam enjoyed studying with everyone; Ava made him actually study, Luke helped give him a new perspective, Danny helped him relax, and Peter gave him a reason to want to succeed. Every time Sam would wonder why he bothered with school, he thought about Peter. Sure, Sam could easily be successful with the Guardians, no stupid Biology final needed. No need to graduate. Just him, his helmet, and a universe at his fingertips.

And then there was Peter. Loathe as he was to admit it, there was something special about Peter, something Sam had yet to find the words to describe. Perhaps Danny could help him when they studied for their English final.

“Take the practice test. Pass it, and then we’ll call it a night.” Peter dropped a small pile of papers on Sam’s head.

Sam groaned and brushed the papers off him without lifting his head. “I'm serious, I’m done.”

“What can I do to convince you? You need to pass this final, unless you wanna retake it…”

There was a teasing lilt to Peter’s voice that made Sam roll his head to this side to see him. The dark circles under Peter’s eyes betrayed his own exhaustion, but his eyes sparked with mischief, like he was daring Sam to make some ridiculous request. Like taking a video game break. Or make a frozen pizza- he’d spied one in Peter’s freezer earlier.

Or, a kiss.

Yes, a kiss would convince him to take the practice test. A kiss. From Peter. A kiss. From Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes when Sam didn’t respond, and Sam was thankful his super power wasn’t reading mind- though, it would make it easier to actually tell Peter. Instead, he was laying on his book, looking to Peter like he was so disinterested he couldn’t even make a joke for the sake of breaking up the monotony of studying.

“I’m grabbing a drink,” Peter stood from the table without looking back to Sam.

“Ugh.” Sam pulled himself up and stretched his stiff back. It was utterly helpless. He was putting so much effort towards a future on Earth just because of Peter- and he had no way of knowing if a future on Earth would include Peter. At least, include him in a way that mattered.

Okay, he could do this. He could tell Peter. Ask Peter. Make all of this work mean something more than the promise of a possibility. And he was certain he wasn’t imagining the looks Peter gave him when he thought no one was looking.

Sam sighed and scooted over to sit at Peter’s seat. His notes were so much more organized, rivaling Ava’s in their detail. He kept his ears trained towards the kitchen, no way he was going to let Peter catch him using his notes, not after their earlier argument over Sam’s own poor note taking.

As he was rereading Peter’s meticulous notes on meiosis for the third time, Peter’s phone lit up next to him. Huh. Usually Peter took his phone everywhere, he wasn’t one to leave it lay around where anyone could, you know, glance at an incoming message.

Sam didn’t mean to look, but he was caught off guard, and his eyes jumped to the screen on reflex. And if they lingered on the screen as more messages came in? Well, no one ever accused him of having tact.

♡♡♡: Still up?

♡♡♡ :Thinking about you ;)

♡♡♡: Miss you!

The room tilted as the screen faded back to black. Sam was certain time was frozen, or sped up, or maybe it just didn’t exist at all and was just made up. Made up like the glances he swore Peter was giving him. Made up like stupid bubble of hope he’d let form around him.

“Sam!” Peter laughed as he entered the room again. “Do you want me to make you a copy? I told you my notes were so much better than yours.”

“Whatever.” Sam grit his teeth and refused to look at Peter as he began shoveling his own notes and book into his bag. What was the point of studying, anyway? He clearly had no chance of being on Peter’s romantic radar.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?”

“Nothing. I told you I was done.” Oh, he was so done. So, so, so, done.

“You’re ridiculous. If you fail the final-”

“Maybe I won’t bother taking it.” Sam was numb, his mind repeating the three messages over and over. Who was it? Who had Peter’s love? What did they have that Sam didn’t?

“The hell, Sam?” Peter raised his voice slightly, still mindful of Aunt May sleeping upstairs.

“Look,” Sam said without any emotion, “I can’t keep… doing this.” He gestured vaguely.

“Look, we don’t have to keep studying tonight. We can do a quick cram tomorrow before-”

“No, Peter.”

Peter stepped to block Sam’s retreat. “What happened? I thought-”

“Well, don’t think.” He glared up at Peter, but couldn’t put any real heat behind it. Peter didn’t do anything wrong, not really. The only person to blame was himself for falling for a teammate.

“What is with you all of a sudden?” Peter’s concern was written all over his face, and it was a punch in the gut. Peter was worried about him, as a friend.

Is that all they would be, then? Friends? But then, what sort of friend was dating someone and didn’t tell his friend? They were friends, right? Right?

“Sam?”

“What are we, Peter?”

Peter jerked back, “What?”

“Forget it.” Sam could feel heat rising up his neck and he refused to meet Peter’s eyes.

“No, what do you mean?”

“I-” Sam bit his tongue, it had betrayed him enough for one night.

“We’re… friend’s? Teammates at least.”

“Least. Because friends don’t keep secrets.” Sam tried to shoulder his way past Peter, but a strong hand on his shoulder held him back. “Let go.”

“So, what? Because I want you to study, we're not friends now?”

“No,” Sam ground out. “We’re not friends because you’re dating someone and didn’t think it was worth sharing with me. Like friends do.”

“I- What?” Peter stammered and the damn hand left his shoulder. Even so, Sam could still feel the warmth lingering where Peter touched. “I’m- I did!”

Sam stared. Peter stared back.

“I told you. When we were getting ice cream with MJ and Harry…”

Oh. Sam looked away, his cheeks warm. He remembered the day, a few weeks ago, remembered staring at Peter as he ate his cone, and nodding along without actually hearing- yea, Sam remembered.

“Sam? S-seriously?”

“Gah! Forget it, already.”

For once, Peter listened, letting him leave without any more questions or comments. What was there to say? Anything more and they would officially be in territory Sam was wholly uncomfortable with traversing. Anything more would carry the possibility of doing permanent damage to their friendship. As it stood, their conversation could be swept under the proverbial rug as a late night blip fueled by studying for too many hours without a break.

When he got back to his room, Sam fell against his closed door and focused on breathing. Peter was dating someone, and that someone was not Sam. Probably never would be. He was not okay with that.

Despite that, he pulled out his notes and gave them one another read before he passed out on the floor.

Thanks for reading!

#spideynova #jealousy #pem writes #ask request #hey I got my laptop out bc my thumb hurts from writing on my phone #and i can actually put a read more on this hahaha

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ggyuwwoo · 3 years

Text

heaven's cloud : Paradise

- in the afterlife where we get to choose our own paradise, two souls unexpectedly meet.

genre: soulmates!au, but also involves idolverse, kinda fantasy whimsical, afterlife-paradise world; fem!reader x lee chan warnings: mentions of death, magical creatures, not really sure what else i guess word count: 2.4k + i generally am not good at making these infos, bear with me sorry! also not really fond of the fic picture, but i also suck and still is learning,,,,

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Lee Chan, for your exemplary journey in life, you are hereby bestowed a place in Paradise.

"I'll take the clouds if I may,"

Then to the clouds you shall ascend, Heaven's Cloud.

Eleven months of (not) living in paradise, Chan had adapted well into his afterlife. The Guides had placed him in his own haven of his choosing, the Clouds. Fluffy white and softer than cashmere, the touch is cooling and healing, peace and quiet were also a given. To Chan, it's his very definition of heaven.

Despite being the only soul - apparently, no one has chosen the Clouds for centuries - Chan has been never alone. He had the little fairies and spirits to keep him company while wandering around the forests. Stars often appear in his nights to cast a light show for the boy. Cancer loves to see Chan's awe-stricken face as the constellation shows him a few tricks.

The Clouds inhabitants and surrounding astronomical beings grew fond of the boy. Hence, Lee Chan never felt alone.

Though it was a blissful experience and a beautiful memory, there was only one month left. One month until the end of his livelihood above the world.

You will be given twelve months of afterlife until your next life begins.

Chan still doesn't understand why they must be sent back to Earth, living another full life that may or may not be 'great'. Though the thought of living on Earth, whatever their life might be, is already a disappointing thought. After having to exist in a paradise of your own, nothing else would come close.

But apparently, the universe believes differently.

The fairies and spirits told him once, 'Universe sought in a cycle, to them it's the perfect way as it does not end, leading to the continuation of life and its purposes.'

"But what exactly do those purposes serve if there is no end to it?"

'There is none silly, if there was to be an end to it, then life itself would cease to exist. It serves to preserve life as we know it, and well - the Universe.'

Chan pondered the thought for a while, "What if, just really hypothetically, someone happens to break the cycle, what happens then?"

The fairies' expression saddened, 'Hopefully it never happens.' Some of them flew to sit on Chan's shoulder, a calming place for them. 'But if it were to happen somehow, life wouldn't perish instantly, but the Universe and everything in it will meet its end, including the afterlife.'

The boy nodded before noticing the frowns on the beautiful faces of the winged creatures, the atmosphere had taken a drop turn. Choosing to lighten the somber mood, Chan raised another question. "Well then, um, what about aliens? Do they exist?”

Throughout the time he was there, Chan spent it listening to the stories of the creatures, exploring the cloud haven that seemingly doesn't end, and conversing every now and then with the astronomical beings -- when they so happened to be passing by.

It didn't get boring for the boy as the stories that the fairies had been plenty and new, never losing the interest of Chan, and the beings were more than happy to talk with him about almost anything.

Of course, all this was okay and fine, revealing the Universe's secrets and whatnot, Chan wouldn't remember this anyway when he enters his next life.

On the first day of his twelfth month, Chan woke up from his sleeping quarters in the usual well-rested sleep. Walking out to do his routine of visiting the forest and later on relaxing by the Serenity Sky Lake. But before he could reach the outlines of White Forest, he saw a figure walking through the field, he couldn't see clearly who it was, but what he registered in his mind was enough to make him gasp.

It was another soul. A human.

As quickly as his feet could take him, Chan sped through the flurry landscape of clouds, wanting to figure out this stranger.

"Hey you! Hey!"

The figure turned to the general direction of where Chan was coming from, revealing its appearance. Upon view, Chan stumbled over nothing, causing him to fall forward into a roll and tumbling on the ground until he laid flat on his back. Luckily, there were clouds under him.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" He heard the figure shout before rustling and someone appeared by his side. Chan scrunched his eyes trying to block the light coming from above while identifying the person looming over him. The first thing he noticed was long brown hair, the strands were flowing almost magically. As if hypnotized by it, Chan could only stare. Until finally, he saw the stranger's face.

She’s ethereal.

You were quite confused as to why you were where you were. All you could see for miles were… white? Your body was standing on nothing, or at least that was how it looked. A sudden voice interrupted your wonders.

Welcome _____, you are in Paradise.

You turned back to find the source of the voice but all you found was a blinding light that caused you to squint your eyes.

“Wh-what? Where?”

Paradise dear, the afterlife.

Your mind went blank, the afterlife? No way. Your brain tried remembering the last thing before waking up in this weird place.

There’s no use child, your memories are long gone. But I can tell you this, you went in peace. You weren’t in pain.

Were the voices capable of reading minds? And who were they? You were a bit frightened.

To answer your question, yes we can read minds. We are the Guides, here to assist the souls in the afterlife. There’s no need to be afraid.

“Uh, okay, ...thank you?” You voiced out, still a little overwhelmed with whatever was going on.

Well then, perhaps we should take you to your choice. Please, follow the green path.

Just as the voices finished speaking, a sudden green line appeared in front of you. You couldn’t see what was ahead, just the green line until the end. You decided to follow through, whatever this was.

As you walked on the path, you were gradually transported to a different place. When you were finally able to understand your surroundings, there were screens that had different landscapes and writings in different colors under them. The scenes displayed were (what you could only describe as) heavenly. Each of them has its own set of vibe and warmth to it. Unconsciously your hand moved itself to touch one of the screens, but then the voices returned prompting you to pull it back.

What you see in front of you are the places in Paradise, according to how one lives their life on Earth, you have a series of options that you may choose from. I shall provide you a look-through.

The screens suddenly disappeared and now you were standing in what looked like those busy city streets, only not so busy.

First is the Silver City. Its appearance resembles the metropolitan areas down on Earth but without all the pollution, noises, and busy traffic. Many people who had used to live in these areas usually choose them, sensing a familiarity to it, they say.

As the Guides explained its landscapes, you were admiring the tall buildings and skyscrapers around you. The architectural designs were marvelous and even if you didn’t remember if you had studied such things, you can’t help but stare in admiration.

Aside from the buildings, the streets looked beautiful as well. The sidewalks were arranged perfectly as if it was placed with the most proper city planning. But one building stuck out to you most, it was majestic. A silver mansion, with tall gates and filled with all kinds of trees and plants. Before you could step towards it, the Guides were already finished explaining the Silver City and had transported you instead to another location.

Second, the Golden Countryside. As the name states, this place is best likely your ultimate countryside farm paradise. A quaint farmhouse with animal livestock to nurture and many forests to explore and spend time in. Families often choose this place for their resting, it’s quite homey.

True to their words, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was a vast field of grass with a simple two-story house that looked like it could fit six bedrooms. Beside it was a giant farmhouse and animals roaming around it. The view itself was doubled in beauty as the sun (or whatever source of light that existed here) sets from behind, casting a soft orange glow over it. Somehow the silver mansion from earlier was placed way aside in your head. Yet again, before you could ask any questions, you were immediately transported once more.

The third is Cosmic Space. Ever wondered how it is to live in Space child?

You heard the voice give out a sound that was similar to a laugh, but somehow not quite.

More people than you’d expect actually dream of this. It may not be as simple as the City or the Countryside, but it’s nonetheless paradise. To them.

Now you were most definitely floating, though despite floating in the middle of random space, you could breathe easily and see easily as well. You thought that space may be too wild for you but as you were looking around, you saw one of the most magical things you have ever seen.

“A comet shower…”

The Guides seemed to have heard you as they projected the shower closer, now holographic space comets were right above you, shining as they continued the rain of them. Mesmerized was all you could feel, the meteors were almost hypnotizing you.

“Whoa…”

Beautiful isn’t it?

Was the last thing you heard before you felt the sudden pull of transport again, at this point you were no longer fazed with the continuous changing of locations, though you did wish to have been able to watch the shower longer.

Number four, the Pearl Waters. For those who favor the deep sea and vast oceans. Of course, many souls who felt close to the waves chose this. The afterlife here is often intriguing, staying with the many creatures and traveling wherever paradise takes you.

You found yourself standing on a deck of a ship, it was modernized though some parts resemble that of an older version. Heading to the flanks you watched the blue ocean as the waves sloshed around the sides. As if welcoming you, dolphins suddenly jumped above the sea, whalebacks spurting water, and schools of fish could be seen from the clear water. You were most surely amazed. As the sea creatures displayed a water show, you felt something touching your arm on the railing. You looked to find a woman with green-blue hair, her cheeks had features similar to scales, and as you peered further you realized it wasn’t a woman at all.

“A...mermaid?”

Ah yes, indeed. Each paradise also has guardians that help care and maintain the afterlife. Mermaids are the Pearl Waters guardians. As for the Silver City, we have the Elves. Golden Countryside has the Shapeshifters while Cosmic Space has Angels.

“Wait what?” You were pretty much confused all together, mythical creatures? Well, then again, it is the afterlife, who knows what actually exists here. But still, you found yourself in confusion and quite the shock.

Not to worry dear, you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted. Now for our last destination.

The mermaid who was staring at your side gave you a small smile before disappearing back into the ocean. You continued to stare at her general direction before your view changed into that of...clouds?

Last but not the least, Heaven’s Cloud. It’s truly magical here. Not many people find it appealing though, but of course it always depends on who’s choosing. Essentially, it's the skies. The guardians here are the fairies and spirits. Quite the peculiar and very friendly creatures.

As your eyes set on the landscape, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. It was breathtaking. It was as if you were standing right in front of the Sun but at the same time, you weren’t. You knew for one you’ve never been in a place like this yet all you could feel from the surroundings was home. You leaned down to touch the fluffy ground and it was the softest thing you’ve ever felt. As quickly as the previous location visits, the surroundings changed again back to their original place with screens.

Now _____, because of the well-lived life that you have gone through. You, _____, are given the choice of one of the five Paradises that you have just seen. Speak now for your choice.

You didn’t know if it was your own voice and mind that spoke, or your conscience, because the sound that erupted from your body sounded firm and almost unbreakable. You didn’t even realize that you had spoken your choice after it was said.

“Heaven’s Cloud if I may,”

The Guides paused for a moment as if they were thinking about something, before continuing.

Very well then, your heart has spoken. To Heaven’s Cloud, you shall go.

One last time, you were again transported to a field with white clouds, similar to the earlier landscape you visited. This time without the voices. Somehow you suddenly felt alone, scared, and unsure of what to do. Wandering aimlessly, you tried looking for the guardians - the fairies and spirits. Then you suddenly heard someone shout.

“Hey you! Hey!”

You turned back to see a man, brown fluffy hair swaying atop his head, running towards you. Well, was running, until he stumbled down and started rolling across the field.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” you shouted before heading towards the boy. As you reached his side, you saw he was unhurt and fine, just squinting his eyes. You sighed in relief, although it should make sense, after all, it was clouds underneath them. Before you could say anything to the stranger, you caught him staring right at you, and somehow you stared back as well.

The boy looked mesmerizing.

#heaven's cloud #lee chan scenario #dino scenario #seventeen imagines #em;writes #your choice based stories #svt fanfic

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