#rust shakes it three times it makes sense cause i said so

[catscough]

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.  

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.  

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.  

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.  

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.  

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.  

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers. 

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.  

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.  

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.  

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.  

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.  

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.  

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.  

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.  

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.  

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.  

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.  

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.  

He froze.  

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.  

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.  

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.  

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.  

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly. 

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”  

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.  

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.  

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.  

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.  

It was bullshit.  

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.  

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.  

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.  

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.  

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.  

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.  

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.  

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.  

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.  

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.  

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.  

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.  

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.  

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.  

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.  

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.  

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.  

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.  

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.  

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.  

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”  

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.  

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.  

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.  

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.  

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.  

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.  

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.  

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.  

He didn’t care for that one bit.

[bffsoobin]

33

➤ soobin x reader, fluff, very slight angst, idiot best friends oblivious to their mutual pining

↳ prompt 33: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?

requested?: yes

warnings: swearing, mentions of small injury

A/N: I’m sorry if you were expecting more explicit romance but I feel like this prompt worked better as a mutual pining idiots plot. Also apologies if this is lack luster, it’s been a few months since I wrote anything non-academic! 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You huddle underneath your comically large black umbrella as sheets of torrential rain pound down on it, washing across the pavement below your feet as if following the tide of the ocean. Your sneakers are soaked, squeaking pathetically as you shift your weight from foot to foot and grimace at the feeling of your socks soggy between your toes. Normally you would have been huddled in your dorm room, working on homework from the morning’s classes or watching reruns of Catfish just to grumble about how stupid a person could be.

But your best friend had texted you with a code blue, so you found yourself in the back parking lot of the campus library, enduring the rain that could only mean Noah’s Arc was due to float by any second. Wind whips your hair into your face cruelly and temporarily blinds you, as if mocking you for daring to brave the storm. You can do little more than scrunch your face oddly and shake your head from side to side in a desperate bid to get the locks away from you since there was no way in hell you were taking a hand off of your umbrella just to push your hair back. A car peels into the parking lot just as you clear your vision. It’s a humble silver sedan, a Hyundai of almost 20 years old, with streaks of rust on the back bumper and a sun-faded license plate. Even in the rain you can make out the litany of decals covering the back end, especially your favorite which boasts the term “MILF: Man I Love Frogs” in bold green letters.

There’s no hesitation in your step as you slosh through the rain to yank at the passenger’s side door, jiggling it several times until the telltale click of the unlock allows you to heave it open fully. Suddenly worried about the state of the car-which is littered with coffee cups, extra clothing, loose notebooks and sheet music and fast food receipts- you shake the umbrella off outside of the car before snapping it shut and closing the door. Beside you Soobin laughs, short and low.

“Thanks for shaking off your umbrella. Really counteracts the gallons of water your brought in with your shoes and pants.” He glances pointedly at where your feet soak the tan carpet into a dark brown and you bristle.

“Thanks for calling a code blue in the middle of a rainstorm. I wouldn’t have fucked your car up if you didn’t have an emergency.” Your voice softens at the reminder of why you’re here, and you finally turn to face him better after you buckle up. He’s devastatingly handsome, as always, but you feel your heart stutter at the fact that he’s wearing the hoodie you bought him for Christmas, the one he had almost slapped you for spending so much money on. It’s slightly damp from the rain and it casts his face in shadows along with the shitty weather and for once you hate the way it looks on him. He drives without asking, already knowing exactly where he wanted to go to talk out whatever had happened.

“I wouldn’t call it a total emergency,” he begins as Spotify takes a few seconds to switch between songs. “Just something I needed you to be in the loop for ASAP.” He looks your way again, eyes calculating for a few moments before the light turns green and he’s making the all too familiar right turn into the tasty and underrated diner that you discovered as freshmen. The rain has not slowed at all and the two of you run into the building to avoiding getting too wet, although your feet squelch with renewed vigor on the red and white tiled floor.

The lighting is much better at your favorite table, and after you place your order you’re able to finally get a good look at Soobin. His soft eyes are rimmed red and puffy, and you can’t tell if it’s the weather, the lack of sleep or his persistent allergies that are the cause. Maybe all three, or maybe something new entirely. He’s staring back at you just as clearly, studying your own face and mannerisms even though it had been years since anything about him was new to you. Of course, other than the day he casually pulled you into his chest and you realized just how tall and broad and handsome he had become.

The thought leaves as scarily quick as it enters, as Soobin turns his face to smile up at the waitress delivering drinks and you catch a glimpse of reddened, mottled looking skin just beneath the seam of the hood. As soon as the waitress retreats you lean across the rickety table and paw at the cotton. Soobin puts up almost no fight, knowing he’s about to lose a battle that hadn’t even begun. The delicate skin of his cheek is alarmingly bright red and looks angry to the touch. Bruises had already begun to form around the outer ring of the graze and your heart clenches when you realize that what you first thought was a circular bruise looks suspiciously similar to a fist. A symphony of anger and concern rise within your chest and your eyes prickle with tears that you know Soobin will wipe away for you if you let them fall. 

“What-” you swallow, saliva suddenly feeling like it’s made of cotton, “Who did that?” 

He smiles shyly, ducking away from your touch but you gently grab at his cheek, keeping him from moving too far. His eyes bore into yours, flicking down to your lips before bringing them back up. Slowly, as if scared to spook you, he encloses his palm around your wrist.

“Promise you won’t yell and disturb everyone else that’s eating?” You nod eagerly even though both you and Soobin know that it was a promise likely to be broken. His hand, steady and radiating warmth into the skin of your wrist tugs tighter, hooking on to you like a life line. 

“That asshole Braden. I was passing him in the lobby of the math building and he was talking to his friends about how-” Soobin stops to swallow an invisible lump in his throat- “how he worked with you on some project and he kept talking about how stupid you were the whole time.” 

Your face twists into a grimace at the reminder of that exact project and then the image of Braden, tall and wide with an angry round face; but then a laugh bubbled from the depths of your chest. 

“To be fair, I was useless for that project. It was film class and it was about that stupid French movie I didn’t watch. So he’s not technically wrong.” Soobin’s frown twitched and then, to your surprise, deepened. Heart dropping at the sight, you felt a chill creep up the back of your neck. For as long as you’d known him, there was always a good chance that a well timed joke could curb his anger or sadness or frustration. 

“It wasn’t that that got me, well, this. After he said that, he said that even though you were stupid he wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees.” You sucked in a simultaneous breath with Soobin, whose moody look finally transfered to you. It made too much sense now; why your joke hadn’t shifted his mood, why he was so vague about why he needed to talk to you, why he had that bruise. Your heart races as you begin to imagine how the skin will turn deep purples and greens, going sickly yellow around the edges. “It just pissed me off so bad. So I yelled at him and he squared up with me and before I knew it I was on the floor.”

To be honest, you were angrier that Soobin had come out of the altercation hurt than anything. You were used to the comments, the snide bullshit that falls from the mouths of your less kind peers.

“I’m going to kill him.” Soobin laughs, finally, as you clench your fingers into a tight fist around your innocent glass of strawberry lemonade.

“No, you’re not. I’m fine.” He finally removes the hood from his head, and if it weren’t for the bruise- which you now could see spread almost all the way to his ear- you would have been more interested in the fact that his shaggy hair had gotten even longer since the last time you’d seen it this close. You open your mouth to protest just as the waitress approaches again, this time balancing two hot plates of food on her arms. You flash her a sweet smile at the same time she notices the state of Soobin’s face and squints. She doesn’t say anything, though, and leaves almost as quickly as she showed up.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” You ask as soon as she’s out of earshot. 

“Yes.” Soobin playfully scowls at you around a mouthful of french fries. Your heart skips at the adorable way his eyebrows knit and his dimples press deeper into his cheeks. Despite yourself, you smile, feeling the tension in the air dissipate around the pair of you. Soobin gestures loosely to the plate in front of you, wordlessly encouraging you to eat.

The pancakes you ordered are just as delicious as you remember them to be every time; fluffy and syrupy with just enough butter. Halfway through a chew, a new idea pops in your head and you struggle to keep chunks of batter from spewing onto the table as you speak.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: Hey Hey, it’s me, ya girl and I’m back with another collab! Ive always loved the roommates theme and have a few ideas for some other ones in my head making this. It’s kinda all over the place because it was a professing with their friendship! Yes I made a Zelda reference and I land about it no. I know Rapp is seen as violent and dense but but this is in a collage au so he’s just a bit...aloof I just love the idea of him actually being a big softie ʕ⊙ᴥ⊙ʔ. I hope you enjoy! ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW!!! (◎_◎;)

Sweet caring sorta himbo(meh?) Rappa, female oral, Big Dick Rappa , sorta size kink if you really sqint,cheater ex mentioned like once , language

Word count : About 5k! Yikes ^^’

Paring(s) : Kendo Rappa x F! Reader

Enjoy ♡

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Having Kendo Rappa as a roommate is an interesting feat in itself. He is big, and loud , very very loud. He wasn't a bad roommate he just..was like a cute large and fluffy puppy that didn't know his size...or power. Their interactions started as the two met during a halloween party one of the frat houses down the street thew. [ ] went as Midna, her best friend Rumi was dressed as Impa while the last two of her friend group , Amaya and Asa, a pair of sisters, were dressed as fairies. “[ ]! Rumi! you two are so cute! Zelda costumes?” Asa asked as her sister ran up to admire their outfits. “Yeah! [ ] wanted to do some characters that matched us y'know?” She said as she nudged her quiet friend , the girl jumped and laughed , scratching her neck as she gave the excited sisters a small smile “If i was coming out tonight I was gonna wear what i wanted to really wear” [ ] said as the group of them laughed and mingled with their other friends and classmates. While heading to get juice , she heard loud screaming , as the sport boys were starting to show up. First was the football team, then the basketball. Baseball and wrestling came next, then the smaller clubs finished them out. Sighing [ ] was content away from everyone as she watched mayhem ensure, chugging of barrels , more music, girls swarming around the players they crushed on as they did minor things, like talk to their teammates or eating from one of the big food trays laying around. Feeling a tap on her shoulder broke her from her people watching, Rumi giving her a bright smile as she took a cup and joined her. “How's my favorite antisocial babe doing now that all of the party has arrived?” She asked as [ ] gave her a pained smile, going to get more if something to drink “Well I don't feel the need to smack anyone is that a good sign?” she chuckled as she got a hug from the more energetic girl “That's my girl! Don't worry, i wanna get out asap but we’re gonna need our favourite pair of sisters before that can happen and it seems like they're fawning over some of the baseball boys as we speak” Rumi said as they watched a familiar tutu of blue go by, followed by a pink one going a similar way. “I don't get it… but at least their taste in men isn't too bad” [ ] joked as Rumi agreed , laughing “Yeah miss tsundere, you can't stand saps, or most of the jocks either” giving the white haired girl a look she rolled her eyes and gave her own laugh back “Yeah I guess i'm either picky or just got high standards” “Ain't nothing wrong with that we all do!” She said as she elbowed the girl beside her.

As the two of them sat there and talked Rumi glanced past her and her eyes widened, causing [ ] to stop talking “What is it-” before she could question her, the white haired girl jumped up, waving at someone “Rap! Over here!” Constantly yelling to someone [ ] started to ask again when a booming voice came from above her “HEY RUMI” a very loud voice called as stomping could be heard before it stopped “I see you took our idea huh?” With that comment [ ] turned around only to be face to face with a dark cover chest, only to then look up to some of the most warm and amber colored eyes looking down at her “Hello there little lady, I like your costume! Erm..Midna aint it?” The giant ganon dressed man questioned as all she could do was shake her head in agreement, causing the giant male to laugh “Awe don't be shy of me kitten i ain't gonna bite!” He chuckled some more as her friend jumped in “I told you she was shy! Be nice Rappa!” Rumi yelled at the flaming red head as he gave her a toothy grin “Oh I was just teasin’ , I bet I ain't hurt her feelin’s did I sweetheart?” Rappa questioned as [ ] face felt hot, hiding her face in her hands as the teasing duo laughed causing the girl to huff “I'm tired of you two already” She said as a giant warm hand touched her shoulders “Awe dont be like that hun, in time ya’l love me” Rappa teased as he gave her a smile,making her stomach flutter “Yeah! This is who wanted you to meet anyway [ ]! This is Kendo Rappa, our top wrestling boy, Rappa this is my adorable best friend [ ]!” Rumi said as the two gave each other a shy smile , a sly one creeping up on Rumis as she thought to herself “Yeah, this'll definitely happen”

Since then the two had become more acquainted , having many classes together and sharing some similar friends [ ] was used to the bruting and sometimes dense man making a random ( and loud) appearance. As [ ] sat in her mostly empty room thanks to her last roommate moving out after constantly breaking sound rules and getting into it with the girl downstairs for being in her bed with her boyfriend (Yikes) she felt a sense of calm. Closing her chemistry book and letting out a relieved sigh [ ] thought about the fact she was going to get a new roommate, the thought was nerve wracking but also it was exciting as well. It was almost too quiet , having the last room by the stairs meant she didn't have to deal with many people besides her friend group. They weren't loud , unless one of her friends decided to get laid and made way too many sounds, or if their neighbors under them threw parties or also had...extra partners coming around. She definitely could feel she was sorta excited she was going to have a roommate again. The sisters had a room to the left of her while Rumi had the one to the right, sharing it with a girl they knew from math. The rooms were not gender defined, some girls having rooms with guys and vise versa so it made it easy to get a room.

These dorms were also quite spacious, the walls not paper thin and a large enough area space that could house two or maybe even three people. So when she heard a knock on her door she expected it to be her new roommate she was advised would come today. Happily opening the door she was shocked and almost terrified to see just a box, well actually a few boxed stacked hiding whoever it was behind them. But if the faed rustic orange hair and wide shoulders meant anything she knew her new roommate already “K-kendo?” [ ] said as the boxes walked by her , landing with a soft thud as bangs covered the male “[ ]? Is that you?” moving his hair out of the way their eyes had the same expression, shocked. “Uh h-hey there sweetheart why isn't this cute, we’re roomies hun?” he laughed as she couldn't help but give him a smile back. “I never expected to see you as my roommate” [ ] teased as Rappa gave her a hardy laugh “Well it looks like me and you are gonna be close friends here darlin’!” With a wide smile he picked her up and gave her a tight hug, taking her breath away ‘ Oh boy i wonder how this will turn out’ she thought as she was eye leve with her giant puppy like friend, his eyes filled of joy

Which leads into now, [ ] trying her hardest to read up on what her next project could be. As she sat there thinking she heard the tale tell sound of her roommate entering with some of his teammates, the boys loud and rambunctious as they entered. Feeling a heavy hand on her shoulder she looked up to the towering boy that was her roommate, his eyes just as bright as usual. “Hey darlin, we're just gonna talk up sum strats a for the upcoming match and play some games in the back , is that alright?” He asked with pleading eyes as one of his more cocky and jock like friends spoke up “Well youre the man here, dont let some women say if we cant or can be here” Rolling her eyes and proceeding to stand up and push past the wide eyed boy who knew what was going to happen. [ ] took in a breath before opening her eyes to look up to the boy “Well it is my room, i pay shit here and the man over there didnt get this place, so i do choose who can and cant come through my place” She said as she pointed a finger to the boys chest. Trying to push his luck he pushed back against her finger “ I bet you just haven’t gotten a good enough dicking for you to just stay out of the way” He laughed. Before [ ] could hit him hard enough her rust haired friend moved in , clearly towering the boy “Yer better watch yer mouth, she has her right around here, im invatin her space so watch it before there's no place for any of us to relax without rules” He said as the boy sucked up any laughing and nodded his head in understanding. Surprised by her usually aloof roommate [ ] stood back and went back to her work, the other boys scrambling behind kendo as the boy who tried to challenge her jumped to follow, never making a move to mock or do anything again.

The boys picked back up and were having fun in the back room of kendo’s , sighs and groans when they lost and victorious laughs and screams if someone won. Once they all left and everything settle to a quiet rumble as the last few funneled out [ ] could here herself think, reading up on chemistry as she felt a presence behind her. “ ‘M sorry, i didn't know my question wouldve cause a roar outta ya..” Kendo started as she smiled gently, turning to face the wounded boy “Its okay….guess it just lit something in me i always did y'know?” She said with a small laugh as she went to type again, but was stopped by the hulking boy. “I gotta make it up to ya alright? I know i aint say anythin that he did but…. It feels like my fault y'know?” He admitted as his large hand covered hers. “You wont live this down will you?” She questioned as his eyes flickered up to hers, sparking. “Nope, not at all. Lemme treat ya right okay?” For such innocent words [ ] couldnt help the shiver that ran down her back at his words. Maybe it was because he was so close, or that the smell of his cologne was too much, either way her head was spinning as she let him still hold her hand as he tugged her away from her computer , his smile widening as she reluctantly shut the bright screen “Great! Now let's get something to eat im starvin” He rasped out as [ ] gave him a giggle that made the boy stop in his tracks. He always thought she had a cute giggle but this one,for some reason , made his heart and chest feel warm and tight. Ignoring the feeling he took the girl with him, the two headed out to get something to eat as they headed down , the sound of her giggling still running though kendos mind.

Getting a random frantic text from Kendo wasn't unusual, in fact it was quite common for him to do such, which now didn't faze [ ] at all but this one was...particularly odd giving what he was asking ‘Hair? And messy? What in the world is he up to’ [. ] thought to herself as she headed to her shared room with the boy, nervous of what scene she could be entering.

Sighing after his last text she hurried her way to their dorm room and in fact he did leave the door open, making her more nervous as she entered the living room. “Kendo?” [ ] called out as she heard a gruff sound come from her bathroom. Entering was a sight of its own; towels, a bowl of some..substance , bags and bottles of body wash and a one flustered and shirtless Kendo. “[ ]! ‘M so glad yer home here take this” The large man said as he handed her an old toothbrush that was frayed and covered with the same odd substance in the bowl. The lingering smell from the room eventually gave it away ; shampoos. “Uh why do i need this? And why is there shampoo on a toothbrush” She questioned as he groaned, taking the towel off his head as she blinked owlishly at his very faded red orange hair, the color now more of a neon pumpkin. Shaking off extra water caused even more of his hair to fall, landing between his shoulder blades as he gave [ ] a desperate look. “It wont come out, and the more i scub the more...orange i become. I look like a orange peel” He whined as [ ] figured out what he was trying to do

“ You wanna remove the color right? A bowl of shampoo and body wash isnt strong enough” Going into their kitchen she grabbed some baking soda and lemon juice , coming back to the hopeless boy “Let me mix something up ive used before okay? Then we can proceed with your hair” Two and a half hours later the boys hair was now a light peachy orange, just light enough to take up with bleach “Well, if were gonna go for blonde ill go get some bleach and some masks, deep conditioners too, your hair is definitely gonna need it and I don’t want it breaking off because you're impatient to take care of it” she sighed as he was amazed at his hair, running a large hand through the still damp mess atop his head “Wow yer good” He said as she smiled at him, taking her keys “And you have a lot of hair. I'll be back” She said as she hopped up “Wait! Lemme go with you?” He asked but also seemed to demand, pleading eyes looking down at hers as wet hair dropped onto his still bare chest.

Trying not to be hypnotized by where they landed and proceeded to slide down she looked up at her amber eyed friend, who was staring intently as he waited for her answer, soft “Please?” coming from his lips. Sighing dramatically on purpose [ ] laughed at him, giving him a grin “of course you can you big puppy” she said as he picked her up in a hug, a gesture that shows his excitement she's come to learn. Putting her down he went to go to the door before his friend called him out “uhm Kendo? You don’t have on a shirt” she said plainly as he looked at her, raising a brow as he gave his rebuttal “Its hot” He responded. Giving him a side eyed look she turned from him and towards their bedrooms, [ ] sliding into his. Soon she came out with a sleeveless one, throwing it at the hulk of a guy infront of her “You can't come in the store without one” She said as he gave a growl of his own, sliding the shirt over his head as they left their apartment “Well at least ya got me one without sleeves” He huffed as they started back to the door, heading out to finally go to the store to start another process on Kendos hair, the male just excited to finally get rid of his pumpkin hair.

As Kendo sat in the shared living room with [ ] , deep conditioning his hair at her yelling request (‘If you dont re nourish it before you want me to bleach it , I won't do it!’ ) he watched his roommate and now his best friend wanderer around and do housley things for their apartment, the girl content as she cleaned and sorted out things in the kitchen, her body turned away from him as he started to think over how beautiful he thought she was. He want the type to brag or gloat about having so many girls comment on his size , height wised and well sometimes other ways , trying to tempt him to them. All while his friends wanted him to explain how he got the attention from the other gender , Kendo hated to admit it but ,he only wanted his roommates' affection. He knew how put together she was, smart and kind. He saw what her previous boyfriend did, a cheater that didnt take care of the beautiful soul he lived with. He couldnt stand seeing her come home and cry herself to sleep broke his heart, and when he fought the cheater, in the act he didnt feel bad once. Of course it ended their relationship, and [ ] yelled at him for fighting , explaining how he couldve ended in jail for fighting her ex, but he argued it would be worth it.

Sitting and mulling over everything he realized Rumi was right, hed do anything for [ ] but not the same for the other females that passed through his life. She actually, was the first person he did that for and that thought made his head dizzy. Moving from his place on the couch he went to stand in the kitchen, waiting for [ ] to come back from her room. Hearing the iconic sound of her feet pittering across the wooden floor he gave her a lopsided smile as she jumped, smacking into the chest of Kendo. Before [ ] could fall from impacting with his chest he caught her, holding her arm to his chest. “K-kendo! You shouldve told me you were in here! Why are you in here anyway?”[ ] scolded as he laughed, moving out of the shorter girl's way as he started his staring again, this time [ ] noticed him “......What?” She asked as he looked down at her, an unreadable look on his face. “Kendo” she called as he hummed, moving closer “Yer gorgeous” Kendo blurted out as [ ] started to stutter, eyes going wide. Taking teo steps forward he essentially trapped his friend between the corner of their kitchen canopy. “Remember when I fought that bastard of an ex you had?” Kendo asked as he saw [ ]’s eyes go soft , shaking her head “What about him...i'm still mad you almost lost everything just to fight him yknow” she huffed as he poked her cheek “Id do it again if it meant you'd be happy again yaknow” Kendo said as he leaned down to push his head against hers, amber and [ ] eyes mingling. Lifting his large hands he traced each side of her cheek, analyzing over her face as he nuzzled against her nose “Stop playin hard to get would ya? Bad enough you got my heart all in your little hands” he whispered as [ ] just started at the giant , her arms gently coming over to cover his that were place on her cheeks “K-ken..i need to start you hair..” She hopelessly try to argue as he groaned, burying his face into her neck. Squealing at his damp hair touching her shoulder [ ] jumped ,pushing the large boy back “Your hair's wet!” She whined as he chuckleed, mo\ving back as it turned into a booming laugh “Oh my ‘m sorry babe , you look surprised” He said as she smacked hsi chest “Go to the sink, i need to rinse the conditioner” She yelled as he hwld his hands up in a mocked surrender, pulling his shirt up and off in one fluid movement. Caught up by him stripping his shirt off [ ] gave him a glance over, the heaviness of him admitting feelings for her in his own unique way still lingering in her mind as the toned and strong back of her friend made her head hazy. Turning around from the lack of notice of his smaller friend Kendo caught the eys of [ ] staring, her eyes quickly flickering to his curious ones as he grinned “See somethin you like darlin?” He teased as she grunted, reaching up to push his head in the sink “Shut up and let me do your hair”

And like clockwork, Kendo rappa was an icy blonde after two days, a break given to his long ,thick and wavy hair, the giant boy looking over his new look as he sighed happily, loving to have his hair finally look normal. “Well damn [ ]! Ya made it even better than what i was thinking. Look! My hair’s all wavy at the ends and it's soft! Whatever you made me do made it feel better!” He raved as the girl looked over her work. And in fact it was highly even, his hair consistent and lavishy soft. Giving him a shy look she giggle “That's what a deep conditioner will do to damage hair and the way i'm always untangling your hair for you, i knew it would need it before you wanted to go white” She said as he just kept running his hands in his hair, turning back to her “I could just kiss you right now!” He blurted out as they both froze at his words, eyes wide from both parties “I-I aint mean it [ ]” He croaked out as she giggled, stepping back from him “O-of course you didnt, why would you i mean aha..”She said as she moved away more , his own words started to hit him as he realized the reverse effect it was having “NO! No, I'd want to kiss you, I really really want to. I just...want it to be on your terms okay?” he said as he grabbed her arm, holding her in front of him as if she'd float away if he didnt.

“Kendo...I..” [ ] started as she came back to his hip, laying between his legs onto his thankfully covered chest “I just dont want to lose you if you decide you wouldnt want me around” She whispered as he pulled her even closer, kissing her forehead as he stared at her “Dont you ever say that again ya hear me? Youll be my princess and ill be your humble er..knight” He hesitated as he tried to think of a sweet way to explain his feelings. [ ] looked up to him as she felt here eyes feel heavy with tears. Before one even fell Kendo pushed his lips as soft as the strong boy could, wrapping a large and beefy arm around her waist as he slipped his tongue in her mouth, letting his hand slide down to pull her up to sit on the tops of his thighs while he leaned against his dresser. Softly [ ] pushed her hand on his chest and pulled away, now eye to eye with Kendo “Sorry , d-did i overstep my place” He asked as she let out a snot, before laughing. Confused, Kendo went to talk before she stopped him “No no, youre good, just that if we keep kissing on this dressed there's gonna be a hole in the wall” She said as she pointed to where the mirror kept tapping a spot, scrapes already aroring it “R-right!” He laughed too, picking her up to set her on his bed “Now then...lemme serve you princess” He said before kissing her again, not letting her rebuttal his own comment. As the two kissed he made sure to be as gentle as he could be , at times clumsily nipping her lip or his hand pulling hard at her clothes.

All in the name of wanting to show how much she meant to him. Soon he pulled away, a small string of saliva strung between them from the hearty kissing. “[ ]...i think i love you” He said as she gave him a soft look , trying to catch her breath from the dramatic kiss they came from “Good, because i love your loud ass too Kendo” She teased as he smirked,leaning down to bite her neck, causing her to moan loudly “We’ll see whos loud after im done wit ya” he gave his own tease back as he moved between her plump thighs, kissing the flesh there as he pulled her shorts to the side, exposing her flushed lower lips. Gasping she reached for his hand that held her legs apart causing the fresh blonde to look up at her, eyes wandering over her face for signs of him to stop “I-Im not used to being this bare sorry..” She whimpered out as it dawned on the other side of her words “Have you ever ate out baby?” he asked as she hid her face from him, shaking ehr head as he groaned, pulling her shorts down as he saw her lacy panties , a smirk placed on his lips as he peeled them off too, a string of arousal keeping them plastered to her lips “fuck, that bastared really didnt take care of you” he growled as she sat up to see his darkening eyes kiss up to her lips whispering out a “but i will” as he sucked one of her lips into his mouth, causing a lound moan from the woman he was inbetween. Slowly he licked up her lips, searching for that small pearl as she whined, a hand coming down to tug his hair. Grunting he soon found it, sucking onto her clit as she gasped, her thighs shutting over his head as he looked up to her, watching as her back arched off of the bed once her pressed his tongue hard against her clit. Softly he let a hand run under her thigh, a single thick finger tracing over her twitching hole as he pushed it in gently, making [ ] squeal. “K-Ken!” She called out as he looked up again, catching her eyes and flushed face on his actions. Making a show of what he was doing he let a second one join the first as he sucked hard on her bud at the same time making [ ]’s eyes roll back as her hand fell from his head, nervous od pulling too hard. Kendo however had other plans. Feeling her walls tighten around his fingers he made sure to find that spongy spot and hitting it, finally pulling his lips from her clit as he smiled “Uuh Uh doll, look at me” He growled as she hesitantly glances at him, regretting that she did. He looked way too good, hair a mess as he was panting, catching his breath from being down on her. With evry pump of his fingers his muscle in his arm twitched, making her own walls spasm as she watched it “Ya like it sweetheart?” He asked as she shook her head, watching him move back to her pussy “Good, cause i aint done” He said as he gave her clit kitten licks beofe slurping on it, throwing a wink at her as he picked up his pace, making [ ]’s voice rise as she felt herself getting close before quickly snapping at a particular hard thrust of his finger to her spot on her walls.

Letting out a light scream she came over his fingers and tongue, the male laughing gleefully as he sucked up her juices. LEtting her come down some he watched her face as bliss spread through her body and a sense of confidence whent though his. Slowly he picked up the pace of his fingers again, going from a shallow push to more stroking as he heard [ ] whine, grabbing at his hand “Uh uh sweetheart, you taste too good fro me to only let you cum on my tongue once” he said as he pushed her down by her stomach, letting her take his spare hand as he went back to suckling on her lower lips. He knew he had a lot in stored for her, and watching the newly admitted love of his life cum from his pleasing was enough for him to realized he needed to do more. Popping off her clit as puling his fingers gently out he looked at her ravished body, using his non wet hand to pull at his sweats. “Youre beautiful like this [ ]” kendo said as she took in heavy breaths, feeling her throat close as he stroked his massive size, rubbing the swollen head as he looked at her , giving her a soft smile “Ya dont have to take me just yet , hes just throbbin too much” He groaned as he twisted his hand hard over his leaking tip, feeling himself throb as he laid back on his bed. “Ride my face?” he asked with one of the most sinful looks [ ] had ever seen ; lustful eyes watching her as his large hand stroked his larger dick, the soft and fleshy muscle jumping at watching her crawl to him, throwing a leg over his neck

“I-i dont wanna suffocate you..” She said as he smirked before saying “Ya cant suffocate me i want it” Soon he grabbed her hip, pushing her onto his awaiting mouth as he picked up his pace, sliding his tongue into her twitching hole as she rocked her hips, keeping a steady pace as she held herself on his shoulder and headboard, ,depreate moand and cries tumbling out as he rocked her too, going from her clit to her dripping entrance, stoking his dick harder and harde as her moans spurred him on. Soon he felt the bud in his mouth twitch and throb harder, the sounds [ ] made increasing as his own hand sped up with his throbbing head, the telltales of them both getting close. A moan erruptred from the girl on his lips as she came again , her essence running down his face as he groaned, ropes of cum shooting onto his hand and stomach as he came himself, still stroking out what he could as the pressure he felt subside. Sliding off softly [ ] saw the mess behind her, taking it upon herself to lick up some of it as she was met with his same aber eyes, watching her move to his still hard member “Let me take care of you too?” she asked shyly. Fuck he was done for as he felt himslef hardend worse at her words, a large hand coming up to smack her ass as he psuhed her up and over his head, letting his tip and her swollen lips run over eachother. Slowly he pushed his tip past her budding lips, entranced by the way it swallowed her whole “Fuck...i love you [ ] and by the time im done with ya...youll know it” he whispered in her ear as she felet him push, more and moreof his large size spreading her lips father than shed ever had. Her eyes rolled up as she felt him bottom out, both moaning as he picked up his pace, making a soothing rhythm as little moans and whines came from [ ], deep grunts coming from Kendo as he kissed her shoulders and back, marking where he could as he felt himself get closer with how she was throbbing over his member.

Digging his fingers as deep as he could in her plush hips he let our a mantra of ‘Cummin’ i and ‘ I love yous’ in her ear as she pushed back against him, feeling herself teetering as he pushed as deep as he could go ,letting himself cum as she came too, the overwhelming feeling of him throbbing against her spongy walls and previous orgasms enough to push her over a third time. “[ ]” Kendo rasped as [ ] hummed , feeling her legs still shake with him in her “Im serious, i'm never leaving you...you're mine and i love you…” kendo said as he kissed the back of her neck, nibbling her ear as he stayed in her “Mhm….i love you too Rappa..”

[obwjam]

4 with a clone? Any clone you want!

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

lol back doing these prompts from forever ago, gonna use rex and the 501st boys for this one because they currently have my heart

from this post

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Rex peered through the rusty metal bars, still in awe of what he was seeing. He could certainly understand the fear they must have been feeling, but he would have figured his face was a much better sight than that of a battle droid. Apparently not.

The 501st had been sent on a rescue mission to help a village that had been under siege and h held hostage by the Separatists, and they had finally destroyed the last of the droid army that was holding the civilians at gunpoint. Rex’s job was to go through all the buildings to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for as the rest of the squad set up relief tents outside.

He didn’t expect to find a three-inch-tall person cowering inside a cage.

The tiny thing had stared at him, paralyzed in fear, until Rex moved his hand to unlock the cage and they gasped and pushed themselves into the back corner. Rex had gently tried asking them who they were, what their name was, why they were locked up, but they wouldn’t give him anything but silence.

“Can you at least let me help you outta there?” he asked with a weak smile. He set his blasters down on the ground and took a knee in front of the cage. The little guy couldn’t have been much older than Anakin or Ahsoka. Their matted hair stuck to their tear-soaked face, and their baggy clothes were torn and caked with dirt. They were hugging their legs to their chest and their head rested down between their knees. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Kid?” Rex tried. He was beginning to think the poor thing didn’t even speak basic. “Can you... do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was subtle, but the tiny tilted their head up and made the slightest eye contact with him before whipping their gaze back to their shoes.

“I’ll... take that as a yes.” Rex sighed. He wasn’t qualified to handle something like this. He was just here to make sure the villagers were safe.

“Look, kiddo, I don’t know anything about your situation, but we set up a relief tent outside. It’s got food and water and anything you could want.” Rex looked down to his hand and flexed his gloved fingers. “Now, don’t freak out, but I’m just going to—”

“NO!”

The sudden shout startled Rex, and he lost his balance for a moment. His hand was about halfway to the threshold of the cage before the tiny had had enough. He stared at them, eyes wide.

“P-please... just... just leave me alone...”

Rex swallowed. Their voice was impossibly small and shaky. He had to strain his eyes just to get a good look at them as they shifted their position. He could barely see flakes of rust shimmering down as they rubbed against the cage bars.

“Hey, I’m not... I’m not gonna hurt’cha,” Rex assured. He held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t grab ya. Promise.”

At the movement of his hands, the tiny whimpered and eyed him warily. They were shaking badly.

Rex’s heart sank. The hut they were in was dark, damp and clearly damaged from blaster fire. The tiny was situated deep in the shadows, practically unnoticeable to anyone who passed by. They kept blinking away tears. Rex couldn’t help but wonder how long they’d been stuck in that cage.

“G-go away. Please,” the tiny stuttered, clearly summoning an immense amount of strength to say those words. Whether they were fighting through sheer exhaustion or pure fear, Rex wasn’t able to tell.

“Kid, it’s not safe in here! This hut is badly damaged. It could collapse at any moment. Just let me take you outside with everyone else—”

“No!” they cried again, flinching when Rex shimmied a bit to stay balanced. “I—I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Because!” the tiny was becoming increasingly exasperated, and the look of fear present in their eyes every time they defied Rex broke his heart. “I don’t... belong.”

“Is this not your home?” Rex was confused. Sure, they were the only tiny being they had encountered here, but it wasn’t uncommon for tinies to integrate themselves into larger clans. “Didn’t the Seps put you in this thing?”

To Rex’s horror, the tiny shook their head. “I was in here long b-before the-the droids got here.”

Rex blinked in shock. He saved this tiny... from the villagers he had just helped to free.

“It doesn’t matter,” they mumbled, drawing their knees closer to their chest. “I don’t need—”

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

Surprised, the tiny cocked their head. “I—I—”

“If what you’re saying is true, then... then you don’t deserve to keep living like this. Let me take you back with me, I—I can get you the help you need and we can relocate you.”

“Relocate?” the tiny repeated. What was he going on about?

“I-If you just let me take you outside, we can get you some food and water and I can talk to my General about finding you a new home.”

“You mean... you mean leave Terronia?”

Rex suppressed a smile. That was the most optimistic they sounded thus far. “Yeah, kid. We can getcha far away from this rock. If that’s what you want, of course. Once the mission’s over and we leave, we’re probably never comin’ back.”

The tiny sat in silence, eyes darting around rapidly as they tried to piece together what Rex was saying. If he could really get me out of here...

“You’d... really help me?” they asked, still skeptical.

Rex sniffed a laugh and slowly brought his hand to the front of the cage, laying his palm open. The tiny just stared at it.

“I—I dunno...” They were looking at his hand like it was a ticking time bomb. “I—I’ve never...” they trailed off. Rex was pretty sure he knew what they were trying to say.

“It’s safe, I promise. I’ll go slow.”

After a moment of contemplation, the tiny slowly rose to their feet. Rex tried not to stare as they hobbled their way to the front of the cage. They almost looked like a kaadu that was just learning to walk.

The tiny stopped right at the foot of his palm. Rex’s hand came up just below their waist. With a clenched jaw, the tiny looked up at Rex, finally taking in the giant for the first time. He wore a soft, expectant expression, and his eyes shone as he watched every little movement of theirs.

His muscles involuntarily flinched when the tiny swung their leg up, but he was able to keep still as they situated themself in the middle of his palm. They awkwardly crawled to the center and sat down cross-legged, nervously eyeing the fingers that were as tall as they were.

“Okay, I’m gonna move...” Rex warned, giving them one last look before taking his blasters in his free hand and standing up. The tiny wobbled a bit, but otherwise seemed okay.

“Feeling alright?” Rex asked. The tiny nodded, looking around at their new view. They had never been this high up before. Given the situation, it was terrifying, but there was something exhilarating about it. Almost... fun. Adventurous. They found themself peering over the edges of Rex’s hand, soaking in the scenery that once looked impossibly huge and distant. They hadn’t felt this way in years.

Rex couldn’t help but smirk. Even if it was just for a moment, as he thoroughly killed the mood by starting to walk, the tiny wasn’t scared. They even seemed excited. It was adorable.

Rex pushed past the burnt brown cloth that acted as a door. He kept his hand close to his chest, trying to stay conscious of the featherweight in his hand as he slowly strolled through the camp he had helped set up. Several tents were pitched, with food, water, blankets and other supplied piled up in boxes. The villagers chatted between sips of tea and bites of ration bars. It was almost hard to believe they had treated this poor tiny so harshly.

“Captain!”

Rex’s stomach dropped. He has almost forgot about the rest of his squad. How was he going to explain this?

“Rex! There you are! I thought we’d lost ya— oh.” It didn’t take long for Fives to notice the tiny being sitting in Rex’s palm. They were now clinging onto his thumb for support, staring up at Fives with a renewed sense of fear.

Fives dared to speak. “Captain?”

“I found them in one of the huts. They... aren’t really welcome here, so I’m taking them to the General to see if we can help them relocate.”

“I see...” Try as he might, Fives couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tiny. He crouched down.

“Hey there,” he said softly, immediately taking notice of the way they winced when he got near. “I’m Fives. Part of the 501st. What’s your name?”

The tiny stared back, frozen. Above them, Rex cleared his throat.

“They... aren’t much of a talker.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright,” Fives smiled, trying to show them he was friendly. “Lucky we found you, huh? Who knows what would’ve happened if Rex here didn’t—”

“Fives.”

“Right. Sorry. You’re in good hands with Rex, kid. Literally.” He cracked another smile. “He’s our best. He’ll take good care of ya until we can get you somewhere safe.”

“I think you should go help Echo get the rest of the rations off the ship,” Rex pressed. He was surprised how well he could feel the tiny’s tremors through his glove.

“Yes, sir,” Fives said, holding his gaze to the tiny for a few more seconds before standing back up to his full height. The tiny’s heart skipped a beat. “See ya later, tiny!”

The tiny blinked as Fives bounded off somewhere. “Bye,” they whispered weakly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Rex blushed. “A lot of my men are like that. But don’t mind them. They’re totally harmless. They’re just... curious, is all.”

The tiny nodded as Rex continued along. Luckily, they weren’t bothered by any more clones, but the villagers quickly noticed what Rex was carrying. He gave stern glances at each villager that looked almost disgusted that Rex was helping the tiny.

“That’s just awful,” Rex muttered, almost forgetting the tiny could hear him. He craned his neck down. “How could they treat you like that?”

They just shrugged. “‘Cause I’m tiny.”

Rex humphed. He wasn’t sure how inclined he felt to help out the Terronians anymore.

Suddenly, the unmistakable voice of Anakin pierced the busy air. “Rex! Where have you been? You were supposed to check in at 0500.”

“Sorry, General. I... I got a bit sidetracked.” Sheepishly, Rex held out his hand to reveal the once again terrified tiny to Anakin. The Jedi nearly did a double take.

“Rex? What... who is this?”

“This is... ah, I found them in one of the huts. They were stuck in this cage, so I helped ‘em out.”

“A cage?” Anakin was beside himself. He had seen tinies in his childhood, but none since he left Tattooine. He had almost forgotten how he used to try and befriend every single tiny that hung decoratively in Watto’s shop. “What would droids want with a tiny?”

“They didn’t,” Rex said, and that was all Anakin needed to hear to understand what was going on. Anakin’s expression briefly turned dark before he remembered the tiny’s trembling eyes were on him. He softened as he too crouched down, trying to offer a reassuring smile. The tiny could barely breathe. This was a Jedi!

“Hey, lil guy, I know it’s gotta be scary for you right now, but trust me when I say we’ll take good care of you. No more cages. We’ll keep you safe, alright?”

The tiny nodded almost robotically. Their open mouth only produced whimpers and gasps as Anakin stared right through them.

“We can work on that,” he quipped warmly. He could sense their fear so strongly he almost started to feel it too. The poor thing looked minuscule in Rex’s hand, surrounded by ships and tents and giants. “Are you okay with Rex? Or do you want someone else to help?”

The tiny was surprised. Someone was really asking them what they wanted? And a Jedi no less. Everyone seemed to want to help. Maybe this wasn’t a trick...

“I like Rex,” the tiny whispered, so softly that Anakin could barely pick it up.

“You like Rex?” Anakin said again, grinning up at the now-red-faced captain. The tiny nodded meekly. “Well, then I’ll let him help you get settled.” He stood up slowly. “Why don’t you head back to the ship a bit early? And take some extra rations with you. Something tells me you’ll need it,” Anakin winked, savoring the look of pleasant surprise on Rex’s face.

It took Rex a moment to break out of his daze. “You ever been on a ship before?” he asked, though he already could guess the answer. The tiny shook their head. “It might be a little nauseating, but the feeling goes away quickly. For some more than others,” he added under his breath. At this, the tiny chuckled. They almost couldn’t believe their luck.

“Thank you, Rex.”

Rex looked down, locking eyes with the tiny. They weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo. We’re here to help.”

“Caro.”

“What?”

“Caro. My name’s Caro Kann,” they said, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. “It’s... been a while since anyone’s asked for my name.”

“Oh,” was all Rex could say for a moment. There was a lot more to this tiny than he thought. Whatever questions he had, though, they could wait. “I’m glad you felt like you could finally tell me your name.”

Caro didn’t respond, but they didn’t need to. Instead of hugging themselves tensely, their shoulders had relaxed as Rex made his way to the gunship. Whatever was about to happen was going to be scary, overwhelming, and difficult to deal with. That much Caro knew. But it wasn’t very daunting, really. Not anymore.

“Ready, Caro?” Rex asked, pulling his hand up a bit as the gunship doors slid open. “You’ll need to hold on tight.”

Caro nodded and scooted over to Rex’s thumb, where they clung on tightly. Rex curled his fingers in, giving Caro a sort of roof protecting them from the noise and wind. Rex’s other hand was stretched high above, but he had moved the hand holding Caro close to his chest. Caro lurched forward as the gunship took to the air, but they weren’t worried.

They knew Rex was someone they could trust.

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 13

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

“Now that we know you do not intend to attack or harm us, the next order of business is testing and understanding your powers” Diana said, starting off down the hallway. “Batman and Superman will go over the details with you.” 

She led them to a training room where Batman and Superman were already waiting. The five of them filed in after her, looking around and taking in the room. The design was more on the minimalistic side; consisting of plain white walls, void of decoration, with lights embedded into the ceiling. Training mats spread out over half the floor, with more stacked on one side. There were no windows, or glass, and the ceiling rose high above them, at least twenty feet up.

Superman cleared his throat, and their eyes snapped from the walls to him. 

“As Diana most likely told you, we are going to be assessing your powers today. What that means is, you will explain where they come from, as well as demonstrate how they work, if possible, so that we can better understand your abilities.” 

“That all sounds good, but how, exactly, do you want us to demonstrate our powers to you?” Ladybug asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Whatever way feels the most comfortable, as long as you cause no injury to others. And yes, death is considered an injury.”

They looked horrified. 

“We aren't going to kill anyone to demonstrate our skills!” Chat Noir exclaimed, staring at them with wide eyes.

“Well, some of our members didn't realize that when they were assessed.” Superman said, eyes darting away for a second. 

“You can begin now,” Batman growled from where he stood beside Superman, his imposing black silhouette looming over them.

Ladybug blinked up at him. “Uh, alright.” She took a deep breath, before beginning. 

“So, we get our powers from our Miraculi. Our Miraculi takes the form of jewelry, but the shape can change. The jewels are what stay the same, and they have gods bound to them. When we transform, the god that is bound to our jewel will fuse with it, and give us powers. These gods are called Kwamis, and they represent abstract concepts, which is what our powers are based off of.” 

“What kind of abstract concepts?” Superman asked curiously.

“Um, well my Kwami represents Destruction, and there are also Kwamis that represent things like Intuition, Subjection, Evolution...stuff like that.” Chat Noir answered, ticking off his fingers as he listed the examples.

“How many Miraculi are there?” Batman inquired, still looming. “And what concepts do your Miraculi represent?”

Ryuko met his face unflinchingly.

“My Miraculous represents Perfection, Viperion’s represents Intuition, Queen Bee’s represents Subjection, Chat Noir’s as you already know represents Destruction, and its counterpart, the Ladybug Miraculous, represents Creation.”

“They're stored in Miracle Boxes, and it's worth saying there are many of those, actually,” Viperion added, “But the one we have had nineteen Miraculi,” 

Batman nodded once, accepting the answer.

“You said had, past tense,” Diana noted, “What do you mean?”

“Hawkmoth and Mayura stole two Miraculi from the box, the Butterfly brooch, which represents Transmission, and the Peacock brooch, which represents the power of Emotion. They're literally the supervillains we fight, like, daily.” Queen Bee crossed her arms, looking at them incredulously. “How do you not know this? It's literally all over Parisian news when Akuma Attacks occur.” 

“We had it handled Queenie, and my Cure fixes all the damage anyway, so they probably didn't see it as a problem,” Ladybug countered. “Besides,” She glanced at the three older heroes, “You have to deal with stuff like alien invasions, and plots for world domination, not some dude who wants to make a wish.” 

 Viperion frowned. “It's more dangerous than that and you know it.” 

She shrugged, looking away. 

“While you are correct that we are busy, that still doesn't excuse that we let this slip our attention,” Superman said.

“Well you're helping us now, so I guess that counts for something,” Chat Noir offered, “And uh, if there aren't any more questions, we can demonstrate our powers now.”

“Go ahead.” Diana indicated the training mats, “Just remember, no injuries!” 

“Okay, so Ryuko, you can go first,” Ladybug turned to Queen Bee, “I know you've been working on recalling your Venom, but for now, just stun her when it's your turn, since she'll already be done demonstrating.”

They nodded, and Ryuko stepped forward, facing the older heroes, and inclined her head in a small bow. 

“I have the Miraculous of the Dragon, and it represents Perfection. It allows me to transform into three elements, wind, water and lighting.” She breathed deeply, planting her feet firmly on the ground.

“Wind Dragon!” 

She shifted into a gust of wind that blew around the room once, before reappearing where she had originally stood.

“Water Dragon!”

She became a stream of water that seeped through the cracks in the training mat into a puddle on the floor, before reappearing on the floor in front of the training mat. 

“Lightning Dragon!”

She turned into a crackling ball of electricity, hovering in midair for a moment, before reverting back to human, panting slightly.

Ladybug grabbed her forearm gently, “You need to recharge, and then sit down. You have food for Longg, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t know where I’m going to detransform and recharge,” She whispered.

“Just ask Diana if there’s a closet or something where you can detransform.” 

Ryuko nodded and walked over to Diana. They spoke quite for a couple moments, before Diana pointed to a door they hadn't noticed when they had arrived. She nodded and walked into the room beyond, as Chat Noir walked forward.

“My Miraculous is the Black Cat, and it represents Destruction. I have two powers, one that allows me to destroy anything I touch, and one that allows me to create corruption in something. I also have enhanced senses.”

Queen Bee sidled up next to Viperion. “Was there a script? I don’t remember there being a script?”

“I think he’s just going off what Ryuko said because she sounded distinguished.” He whispered back.

Chat Noir’s ear twitched, and he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to hold in laughter.

“I’m not going to demonstrate my second power, though, it’s a bit more dangerous, in a way.” 

He raised one clawed hand before him, “Cataclysm!”

His hand began to seethe with a dark, black energy that had the older heroes falling into defensive positions.

“Can I use it on this?” He indicated a nearby metal bar with the other hand.

“Yes.” Batman nodded, observing intently. With the reassurance, he walked over to the beam and pressed a single claw to the shiny metal. Within seconds, it had corroded and rusted, disintegrating entirely. 

Superman raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.” 

“Heh. Thanks.” Chat Noir rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, stepping back and allowing Queen Bee to come forward. Ryuko walked over as well, standing a few feet away from the blonde heroine.

“I have the Bee Miraculous, which represents Subjection. It gives me the power to paralyze others. I’ll be demonstrating on Ryuko, since she has already demonstrated and recharged.”

Behind them, Chat Noir’s ring beeped once.

She reached down to the striped top, its cord looped around her waist, shouting “Venom!”

It began to pulse with magic in her hand, and she quickly flicked her wrist, sending it spinning at the dragon-themed heroine and catching her between the shoulder blades, leaving a small ring of black and gold. 

It's effects were instantaneous: she stiffened up, her limbs all locking in place. The only things moving were her eyes, and the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“How long does the paralysis last?” Diana asked, studying Ryuko’s frozen form.

There were two beeps, one from Chat Noor and the other from Queen Bee.

“Until I detransform. But after we use our powers, we only have five minutes until our Kwamis are forced to drop our transformations,” Queen Bee explained. “That'll change once you become an adult, but for now the paralysis only lasts five minutes, max.”

“So after you use your power you have to end the fight within five minutes?” Superman clarified.

Viperion spoke up.

“Well, we can detransform, feed our Kwamis and transform again. And then we can use our powers again. It just takes a few minutes to do all that.”

“Hmm.” Batman’s face seemed thoughtful beneath his cowl.

Two more beeps echoed through the room..

Viperion stepped forward to the mat. Behind him, Ladybug was pushing Queen Bee and Chat Noir towards the door Ruyko had recharged behind, an insistent expression on her face.

“My Miraculous is the Snake, and it represents Intuition. It grants me the power to repeatedly go back a certain amount in time.” He paused as Ryuko unfroze and began to shake the stiffness out of her limbs. Queen Bee must have dropped her transformation. 

“I can't demonstrate it very well here, but in battle if things go wrong, I reset time and warn us before we make that mistake again.”

There was a flash of green and yellow light behind the door as they retransformed

“A useful power.” Batman commented, face unreadable. The other two heroes murmured in agreement, strange expressions on their faces.

He shrugged, faking nonchalance even as the memories of past Akumas turned disastrous flashed through his head. “It's a powerful blessing and a horrible curse.”

His bracelet beeped once, and he stepped away to recharge as Ladybug walked forward.

“I have the Ladybug Miraculous, which represents Creation. I have the power to summon a tool in battle that will help me win, and I can capture Akumas and repair any damage caused in a fight that Ladybug participated in with my Cure.”

“So if you are not part of the fight as Ladybug, you can’t fix the damage?” Diana asked.

“Yeah, basically.”  She frowned. “So even if I’m there as a civilian, if I can’t transform before the fight’s over, I can’t do anything to repair the damage.” 

There was a flash of blue, and Viperion walked back over to them, falling into line with the other members of his team behind her.

Shrugging, she gave the older heroes a small smile and grabbed the spotted crimson yoyo at her hip. “But I can now! Lucky Charm!” 

A ladybug-patterned keychain with ‘JL’ emblazoned on it fell into her outstretched palm. She threw it into the air, shouting “Miraculous Ladybug!”

With a whoosh of magic, pink glowing butterflies soared through the room, fixing the rusted beam, and even straightening things that had shifted slightly when Ryuko had called on Wind Dragon. The three older heroes' eyes widened at the display of power.

“That’s a very useful power.” Batman commented, eyeing them assessingly. “Now, we’d like to see your combat skills. Without your powers.” He turned on his heel and walked out the door. 

“Follow me.”

“Do you want us to detransform, or just not use our powers but keep our suits on?” Ryuko asked as they followed the three of them out of the room.

“What additional enhancements do your suits bring?” Batman countered, turning right and striding forward along another hallway.

“Uh, mine gives me night vision and they all give us better reflexes.” Chat Noir piped up from where he brought up the rear.

“Any weapons?” Diana asked.

“Well, I have a lyre.” Viperion offered.

“Do you hit people over the head with it when they get too close?” ” Superman asked as he walked beside them.

Viperion looked appalled. “Of course not! It’s a musical instrument! I would protect it with my life! You never damage your instrument!”

“Okay…” Superman said slowly, turning around and walking backwards so he could face all the Parisian heroes. “What about you all?”

“I have my yoyo, and it’s pretty much indestructible.” Ladybug pointed to the spotted weapon at her hip. “Actually, all our weapons are mainly indestructible. Perks of magic I guess.”

“Oh, and I have my baton!” Chat Noir lifted the weapon in question above his head enthusiastically.

“Spinning top for me.” Queen Bee shrugged and indicated the striped top at her waist.

“Do any of you have traditional weapons?” Diana asked, looking at them incredulously.

“I have my sabre.” Ryuko unsheathed the weapon in question, the light glinting off the unmarred metal.

“A sword.” Diana nodded, “I can work with that.”

“Alright, here we are.” Superman announced, throwing the door open. “Time for your combat skills to be tested!”

@laurcad123, @liquid-luck-00, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @stainedglassm

[honeypiehotchner]

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part seven

Okay I feel like this is where the story gets a little CRAZY because I’m deadass ignoring canon from here on out. Who is canon? We don’t know her 

Anywho, I’m thinking this might have two or three parts left? I’m shit at estimating but this story is almost done :(

Warnings: I mean. Just the general stuff that’s been happening. More angst, because apparently they haven’t suffered enough

The Soldier sneaks the four of you out to some abandoned building. It’s strange, the way the Soldier acts. He’s cold and dry, a contrast from Bucky’s rollercoaster of emotions. The Soldier is quite literally a machine, and that’s exactly what you feel.

He never moves unless he senses you’re right there with him, and his steps even faltered once when your hand slipped as you were adjusting your grip. The Soldier doesn’t talk much at all, and it lacks any and all emotion, again, unlike Bucky.

You feel disgustingly traitorous gripping his arm and bicep like this, holding him so close, but you remind yourself that you don’t have another option right now.

Steve keeps sending glances your way, more frequently now that Sam is walking on his own and fully awake again. Sam is the lookout as usual, but Steve sends a sympathetic -- or is it pity? -- look your way every time you look to make sure they’re still following.

The building the Soldier takes you to looks like an old warehouse of sorts, with heavy machinery all rusted and scattered around. It’ll do the trick.

You slip your hand from his, letting go of his arm. The Soldier looks up at you, expectant, curious, waiting for his next orders. You try to keep your tears at bay when you look into his blue eyes. They’re Bucky’s, but they’re...not. He can’t stay this way.

Steve stands to your left, waiting to see what you’re going to do. It’s another long shot, but considering the other one worked, you might as well try this.

“Soldier,” you breathe shakily, feeling worse about this situation in general than anything else. “I’m ordering you to give Bucky control. Can you give him back to me?”

The Soldier nods, but doesn’t seem happy about it. “Yes.”

“Okay,” you clench your jaw, using all of your strength. “Do whatever you need to do.”

The Soldier nods once more. He sits down on the ground, legs outstretched. He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes. You’re not sure if he’s passed out, but it looks like it, his shoulders slumping and head dropping to one side.

You feel the Soldier leaving him and you close your eyes, letting out a breath that nearly breaks into a sob. “He’s gone. He’ll be Bucky when he wakes up.” You look over at Steve, tears shining in your eyes. “I’m gonna take a walk. Come get me when you need me.”

“Y/N…” Steve says, but you’re already walking away.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk, hating that you miss the weight of Bucky’s arm around your waist. Hating that the Soldier is gone now, and hating yourself for hating that. The Winter Soldier can’t stay, you know that. The Winter Soldier isn’t Bucky, you know that. So why does this hurt so bad?

At least he would look at you. Hold your waist, hold your hand. The Bucky that’s in there now will insist he doesn’t know you, insist he doesn’t have a soulmate.

You cover your mouth to muffle your sob, not wanting the noise to echo.

You sit against the farthest wall, hidden behind some crane or something. You pull your knees up to your chest again, resting your chin on your knee as the tears start falling.

Steve told you what he figured out. Someone framed Bucky somehow because he wanted Bucky to be caught. He has no idea why anyone would want that, or how they got Bucky’s face to frame him, but he knows Bucky didn’t bomb Vienna.

You didn’t have the energy to tell him that you told him so at the time. You were too focused on savoring the feeling of your hand in Bucky’s, knowing it would be the last time.

You don’t know what the plan is next, but you know whatever it is, you’ll do it. You’ll get Bucky to safety and then you’ll...leave him alone.

It’s what he wants, after all. Even if he is lying about not knowing you, he’s still saying it. You doubt his turning into the Soldier will change anything, even if he protected you while he was the Soldier.

You have no clue why the Soldier said those were his orders -- protecting you. Or why he listened to you. If his orders are to protect you, why didn’t he stay with you that day in D.C.? Why did he run off then?

All of that aside, you need proof that the psychiatrist was posing as someone else. If you can get proof of that, and proof of how he got Bucky’s face, then Bucky is free of the bombing. Getting him free of everything else he did as the Soldier, though, that will be harder.

If he even wants it. He said earlier it was smart, a good strategy for them to come in and kill him. The last thing you want is to do something else to make him more pissed off with you.

But you have to do something.

Tears having subsided for now, you tug the neckline of your shirt down to fish for your object of desire that’s hidden in your bra. You smile when your fingertips connect with the metal, pulling it out.

You slap the device over your wrist. “Buckeye,” you whisper, and the AI comes to life. “I need you to do some digging.”

+++

Steve keeps watch through a small crack in the building. Helicopters circle overhead, no doubt searching for any sign of them.

“Hey Cap!” Sam yells.

Steve trots over with Sam to where Bucky sits, now trying to stand.

“Steve,” Bucky groans.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks cautiously.

Bucky thinks. “Your mom’s name was Sarah.” He pauses, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes,” he chuckles, the old forgotten memory appearing so vivid now when he looks down at Steve’s feet.

Steve sighs in relief. “Can’t read that in a museum.”

Sam stares at the pair incredulously. “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

“What did I do?” Bucky asks. 

“Enough,” Steve replies, refusing to elaborate.

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen,” Bucky mutters. “Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know.’”

“Where is she?” Bucky asks. “Where’s Y/N? I’ll tell you, I just-- Where is she?”

You’re already making your way over, having felt it when he woke. The rush of panic, not knowing where he was but knowing he had turned, and then the relief upon seeing Steve -- and probably also from being out of any restraints with no guns pointed at his face.

“Here,” you call out, making all three heads turn to you. You keep your distance, standing a little further back than Steve and Sam, your arms crossed over your chest. “What’s the plan?”

Bucky speaks before Steve can. “Did I hurt you?”

“Depends,” you say quietly.

He lowers his eyes to the floor. “Physically.”

“No,” you answer, too tired to start a fight. “Quite the opposite, actually. You wouldn’t let me walk two steps without you next to me.” You pause, shrugging. “Don’t sweat it. I know it wasn’t you, so. You can go back to insisting you don’t know me.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I know it’s a lot to deal with right now.” 

Sam nods, urging Bucky to continue. “She’s here. Keep going.”

Reluctantly, Bucky does. “The doctor… He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve questions.

You can feel it inside of Bucky. The dread. You have a suspicion of his answer before he even says it.

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.”

“There’s more of you?” You blurt, half panicked and half disbelieving. 

Bucky nods silently.

“Who were they?” Steve asks.

“Their most elite death squad,” Bucky continues. “More kills in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.”

Sam nods at Bucky. “They all turn out like you?”

“Worse.”

“This doctor,” Steve says. “Can he control them?”

“Not right now he can’t,” you mutter.

“What?” Steve asks, turning his head to you. Sam shifts against the wall, uncrossing his arms.

“Well, since we’re getting secrets out of the way today,” you raise your wrist and tap the device. Above it appears a hologram, showing hospital footage. You ignore the looks of shock coming from every man around you. “That’s our guy. Colonel Helmut Zemo. He’s Sokovian. And currently in a coma.” You glance at Bucky, but he looks away. Sighing, you lower your arm, the hologram disappearing. “I’m gonna contact Tony. Say I lost you guys somewhere but that I know the truth about the doctor.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I do,” you nod. “At the very least it’ll give you guys time to get the hell out of here if they aren’t willing to help. But I am gonna try to get this cleared up. I’ll call you.”

“Woah,” Sam stops you, holding out his arm. “Where the hell did you get that thing?”

“Stole it from Tony,” you chuckle. “It was broken, but I fixed it. I needed something to help me out since I was gonna be alone.” You pause, looking to your soulmate. “His name is Buckeye.”

Without another word or glance back to see if Bucky is looking, you turn on your heel and begin jogging to the exit point of the building.

Sam shakes his head. “That woman pulls something new out of her sleeve every damn day.”

Steve watches Bucky’s expression turn from sorrow to pain to longing in a matter of seconds.

“Why’d you say all that stuff earlier?” Steve asks. “That you didn’t know her, didn’t have a soulmate. I saw your journal. You still dream about her.”

Bucky looks down again. “She’s better off without me.”

“Did you ask her that?”

The question causes Bucky to meet Steve’s eyes again. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Because she thinks you don’t want her,” Steve replies, remembering how hard you cried in the office. “Any other girl would’ve went running in the other direction after D.C., but she didn’t. Buck, she’s been holding out hope for the past two years that she’d see you again. And then when she did, you said you didn’t know her. How do you think that makes her feel?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky says, still fighting it, despite the fact that he knows exactly how it makes you feel. He feels it, too. “I wasn’t even in Vienna, and look at all this. It’ll only get worse. I can’t put her through that.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “This girl jumped off buildings for you today. You aren’t putting her through anything. She’s tougher than she looks.”

“A lot tougher,” Sam chimes, reminding the pair of best friends that he’s still there. “After today, man I would not want to get in a fight with that woman.”

Bucky laughs a little, but it dies out. “She’s mad at me.”

“She’ll forgive you,” Steve says, like he’s sure of it. “She already has, I think. She wouldn’t be helping us right now if she hadn’t.”

“He’s got a point,” Sam nods.

“She looks exactly like your drawings,” Bucky murmurs, looking up at Steve. “Got the hair wrong, though.”

“Really wrong,” Steve chuckles. “I met her at a museum. She was standing in front of the part they have for you.”

“She knew it was me?”

Steve nods. “Said she found out when her friend took her there. Seeing your face made it all click.” He pauses to shrug. “I don’t know how she did it. I mean, we thought you were dead three years ago.”

“I thought she would’ve moved on.”

“She won’t,” Steve says quietly. 

Bucky hears the underlying meaning. You won’t move on -- with him in your life or not. There will be no moving on. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to let him go.

+++

The first thing that Tony Stark says when he answers his phone is not, “Hello,” or “Are you okay?” It’s--

“Where the hell are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” you mutter, kicking a rock underneath your feet. You tucked your AI device back into your bra a moment ago. “I ditched the guys a while ago, been trying to get a hold of you since.”

“Where did you ditch them?”

“Hell if I know,” you reply. “I was too pissed off to look. But hey, where’s the psychiatrist?” You try your best to play dumb, not in the mood to tell Tony about your (his) AI device. Not yet, at least.

“At the hospital. He was beaten up pretty badly. Unconscious. Possible coma.”

“Gotcha. Have Friday look into him.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not who he says he is.”

“Uh, can I get more information?”

“Can you give me a ride?” You ask impatiently. “And can you get Everett to listen to me about this? Secretary Ross, too?”

“Done and...maybe.”

“Whatever. Just get here.”

“I’ll have Friday start looking into it. And we’re almost there.”

“Thanks,” you exhale. “Where are you?”

No sooner than the question leaves your mouth, a black car pulls up to the curb. The window rolls down to reveal Tony in the passenger seat and Natasha driving. She looks...pissed.

You hang up the call and climb in the backseat. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Thanks for calling,” Tony replies, sounding like he means it for once. “So, Helmut Zemo?”

“Who?” You keep up the act. 

“Friday did facial recognition on the guy. His name is Helmut Zemo. He’s not a psychiatrist. Or German. He’s Sokovian.”

After having time to give it extra thought, you recall something. “Isn’t that the country you guys wrecked?”

Tony glares at you in the rearview mirror. That was clearly a sore spot. “Yes.”

“Only asking because now we know his motive, dumbass,” you roll your eyes. “Have them check his hotel room.”

“Why?”

“You wanna know more about a guy, you look at where he sleeps. Since he’s obviously not a German psychiatrist, we need to look at his hotel room. Gotta sleep somewhere when you’re out of town.”

“Getting the address now,” Tony sighs. “Friday, send this over to Secretary Ross and Deputy Task Force Commander Ross. Tell them we’re going to the hotel and to have police meet us there.”

Natasha flicks the sirens and lights on the car -- your first real sign that you’re in an undercover government vehicle -- as she floors it to the address Tony uploaded.

+++

As expected, the hotel room reveals exactly what you need it to.

Dr. Theo Broussard is found dead in the bathtub, a sight that makes you hurl into the toilet. You quickly flush and leave the bathroom, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Of all the things you’ve seen and done today, of course, it had to be a dead body that makes you puke.

Tony eyes you worriedly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you exhale, actually feeling better. “What else is here?”

A police officer speaks up, his gloved hands holding what looks like skin. “Facial prosthetics.” He places them down and together, and your gaze hardens.

“Who does that look like to you, huh?” You tap Tony’s arm.

The realization dawns on Tony’s face and he closes his eyes, muttering, “Shit.” Because he sees it perfectly. That’s Bucky’s face.

That’s so twisted, you think. What the hell kind of person does this?

Secretary Ross enters the room with the look of a man who hates being wrong. You’ll feel great pleasure rubbing it in that you’re right.

After he takes everything in, the dead psychiatrist, the prosthetics, Zemo’s identification, and on and on, he comes to you and Tony.

“We have some things we need to discuss.” He says it with his eyes on Tony, but you are having none of it.

You smile sweetly, humming. “I think we do, Secretary.”

[satsuma-saturn]

Lemon - Beelzebub x Reader

A/N: I haven’t written fanfic in years, so apologies if this is poorly written :’)) I just wanted to get back into the scene and I hope Beel isn't too ooc, since I’ve never written him before. I hope y’all enjoy :’))

Reader is gender-neutral, unless otherwise specified

WC: 2174

Warning(s): Reader deals w/ depression

Fic below the cut :)

Lemons were sour, a no-brainer. You remember sucking on a lemon as a dare when you were younger, your friends laughing at the puckered face you made when the sour juice made contact with your tastebuds. After that, you’d sucked down an entire glass of water, in an attempt to rid yourself of the taste, yet it lingered. Another time, you were preparing fresh lemonade to sell at a lemonade stand, but when it came to tasting, it was horribly sour. Your grandmother gave you the advice to scoop some sugar into the lemonade, as it would sweeten it. She was right.

You laid in your bed, staring at your ceiling. It was dinnertime and you hadn’t left your room in...you didn’t even know how long. Some time earlier, Beel had popped his head in your room, letting you know that it was time for dinner. After his announcement, he remained in your doorway, seemingly waiting for you to walk with him to the dining room. With a small sigh, you had told him you’d be downstairs soon. He had frowned, like he didn’t really believe you, but he was hungry, so he stepped out and closed your door behind you. That was around half an hour ago and you hadn’t budged an inch. Your head hurt and you felt...empty.

Like the taste of a lemon, the empty feeling lingered inside you. It grew stronger the longer you laid there, staring at your ceiling in the dark. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling up in the fetal position. Your fingers ran up and down your sheets as you tried to take deep breaths.

“One...two...three…” Your eyes burned and you rubbed them with your fists, trying to wipe away the hot tears that threatened to spill out. Too late. A sob that welled up inside your chest escaped your throat, sounding akin to a dying whale. Fuck. Why were you like this? Why were you crying? You clenched your fists, your nails leaving behind crescent-shaped indents in the palms of your hands. Shaking, you slid under your blanket and rolled up in it, as if you were a human burrito. Hiding away in a blanket burrito was safe and warm, but you knew you couldn’t hide away forever. Someone would come to get you. If not that night, then they would the next morning, since you had school. Would Lucifer let you stay home if you claimed to be sick? You did feel sick, after all. Even if you weren’t physically sick, there were still physical symptoms.

When your door opened and a towering figure silently stepped in, you didn’t notice. In fact, you only noticed his presence when your bed suddenly shifted, rolling you into him. Sniffling, you peeked out from your blanket. It could only be Beel.  Who else was the size of a fucking tree? He must have come back after waiting for almost an hour for you to come back downstairs. You did tell him that you would be downstairs for dinner, only you hadn’t actually moved from your bed, so he was probably worried about you. Oops. Maybe you should have waited until after dinner to cry yourself to sleep.

“You’re crying,” he mumbled, as if you didn’t already know that. The room was dark, but you could feel his violet eyes drilling into you, waiting for you to speak, to say anything. You were silent for the longest time, though, unsure of what to say. What could you say? Sure, you could just be honest and spill your guts, but you weren't positive he would understand. It wasn’t that you thought he was dumb, because he wasn’t, but demons were decidely different than humans. Still, Beel was more emotionally intelligent than any of his brothers, so even if he couldn’t empathize, perhaps he could sympathize.

Wiping your nose, you sat up and reached over to turn on your lamp. The light scorched your eyeballs, since you’d been sitting in the dark for who-knows-how-long. When your eyes adjusted, you focused on Beel, who was watching you expectantly. You still owed him a response. Swabbing your tongue on your dry lips, you thought of what to say, how to explain how you were feeling that would make sense to him.

Swallowing, you finally found your voice. “Yeah, I am crying. I’m just...not feeling very well right now--”

He interrupts you, his voice laced with concern. “Are you sick? Do you need medicine? I’m not really sure if we have medicine here that humans can stomach, but I think we can figure something out. Do you need a cold pack? Or maybe a hot cloth?”

If you didn’t feel so miserable, you could’ve cracked a smile at his million mile questions. “No, Beel. I don’t need any of that. I’m just sad, that’s all. You don’t need to worry about me.” Your lips curved up in a small smile, but your eyes remained melancholic. That was bound to worry him even more, but you were still thinking of ways to explain it in your head. The cogs in your brain were rusted, though, refusing to budge.

His jaw tightened, his eyes boring into yours, as if he was thinking of how to respond. After several moments of silence, he took your hand in his and leaned in to speak, his voice low. “You’re sad? Did someone make you sad? If so, I’ll make them pay. Or was it me? If it was me, I…,” he swallowed, “I’ll do anything to make it up to you, promise.” You loved this man (demon?), but he was never going to need another leg day from all the jumping to conclusions he was doing.

“Beel, let me talk.” You paused for a second, waiting for his affirmation before resuming. “No one is making sad--”

“So why are you sad?”

“You’d find out if you stopped interrupting me every two seconds,” you say, your tone tinged with annoyance. You didn’t mean to get annoyed, but he wasn’t listening when you were trying to tell him something important. A sigh escaped you before you continued. “I’m just sad just to be sad. There’s no rhyme or reason behind it, but that’s just how my brain functions. Sometimes, I get headaches and nausea from it, like right now. It causes me to want to isolate myself and just generally sleep and cry a lot. Does that make sense?” You tilted your head, silently watching his face. It was your turn to wait for a response.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s depression, isn’t it? I don’t know that much about it, other than what I’ve read in one of Satan’s books. I got bored, though, because reading about the human brain hurt my brain.” He carded a hand through his ginger locks, sighing softly. “So, that’s what’s going on? Why didn’t you say that before? You were really starting to worry me, pumpkin.” Pumpkin. That little pet name he gave you always melted your heart when he said it. Pumpkins were stupid because you couldn’t even tell if they were a fruit or a vegetable, but you liked hearing him call you that.

“I‘m sorry,” you mumbled, hugging yourself and bowing your head. You felt ashamed. Ashamed that you were alone in your room, crying. Ashamed that you hadn’t gone to Beel when you started feeling that way. After all, you didn’t want him thinking that you didn’t trust him. He was one of the most important people in your life and you didn’t know what you’d do without him. Your shoulders shook as a sob wracked through your body. You were so stupid.

“Hey,” Beel said, softly. “I’m not mad at you. I was just worried, I guess. I should’ve known something was wrong the first time I was up here, but I was too hungry to pay attention to anything else, other than getting to the dining room for dinner. I’m still hungry, actually.” Right on cue, his stomach growled and he frowned. “Everyone else is done with dinner, so we can go to the kitchen to get something to eat. Maybe Mammon’s left some cake in the fridge or something. Let’s go check.” He held out his hand and you quickly wiped your eyes before taking it.

Somehow, none of the other six brothers spotted the pair of you sneaking to the kitchen. It wasn’t very late, so they were all still definitely awake. Well, most of them were definitely still awake. A certain twin was probably fast asleep somewhere in the house. You trudged behind Beel as he raced towards the fridge, desperate to find something to eat. Seating yourself on the counter, you watched him rip open the refrigerator door, pulling out random food items and muttering to himself. He wasn’t above eating his brothers’ food, but you knew Mammon’s would be the first to go if it came to that, especially after the Custard Incident, which left you without a wholeass wall.

“Hmm...Levi’s got something here, but I don’t trust anything from him,” you heard him say, as he searched, which was valid. “Ooh, pudding!” His tone was excited as he pulled his head out of the refrigerator, narrowly missing slamming his head. “Looks like it’s...mine!” His voice was excited as he grabbed a spoon and opened a container. “Here, take a bite. Food always makes me feel better and I thought we could share this. You’re the only one I’d share with, though.” He brought the spoon towards your mouth and you took a bite, but it was hard to swallow. Your appetite was nonexistent, but you were willing to humor him.

“Mmm, thank you. It’s good,” you said, flashing him a small smile, but he returned it with a frown. Why was he frowning? You weren’t lying about it tasting good.

“You’re still not happy. Am I doing something wrong?” He asked, taking a bite of the pudding. Even as he worried about you, his hunger could not wait. Something about that was endearing, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

In response, you shook your head. “No, you’re not doing anything wrong. I just need some time to deal with my emotions, but we can still eat pudding together,” you replied, leaning towards him. He took that as an opportunity to capture your lips in a kiss, wrapping his free arm around your waist. You could taste the pudding on his lips as the pair of you kissed, and it was sweeter than it had been before.

After a few moments, he pulled away from your lips, still holding onto your waist. “You taste like pudding. I could eat you up,” he mumbled, burying his face in your shoulder. Normally, ‘I could eat you up,’ was something cute to say and it would’ve made you blush, but hearing it from Beel was mildly concerning. “I’m not going to actually eat you, don’t worry. I mean, I could, but I’m not going to.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you were still able to make out what he said. It didn’t really make it any less concerning.

“Okay, well, we have some actual pudding to eat here, and I’m surprised you haven’t already inhaled it yet,” you quipped, picking up the bowl. Beel yanked the spoon out of the bowl, thrusting it in your direction. You were confused about the mild aggression, but you shook your head, raising your hand to block the spoon. The one bite of pudding had been enough.

“Eat.” He held out the spoon, waiting for you to take a bite. “You didn’t eat dinner and you can’t go to bed hungry. That’ll just make you more sad. I know I’d be sad if I went to bed hungry.”

Shaking your head again, you said, “I’m not hungry, though. You can have the res--”

“Pumpkin,” his voice was firm, but not angry or mean. It was strange, as you’d never heard him like that before. “Even if you’re not hungry, you still have to eat. I love you and I don’t want you to get sick.” Love? He loved you? Sure, you were seeing each other and he obviously liked you a lot, but you didn’t realize that he loved you.

“You love me?” You made eye contact with him for the first time that night, your heart feeling like it was going to thud out of your chest.

His eyes widened, as if it had just occurred to him what he’d said. Maybe he wasn’t planning on telling you yet. Oh well, too late. You knew. “Uh, yeah, I do love you. I love you like I love food, which is a lot.”

You cracked a smile, a real smile, for the first time that night. “I love you too, Beel.”

Depression lingered like the sour taste of lemons, but the warmth of Beel’s love softened the blow, just as sugar sweetened the taste of lemonade.

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch. 12

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: It’s the last room of the tour, and Mike finds himself in a small situation.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​

Once the elevator reached the bright, white Television Room, everyone stepped out of the elevator. "Here!" Willy said, grabbing a pair of thick white rimmed goggles. He put them on. "Put these on quick, and don't take them off whatever you do. This light could burn your eyeballs right out of your skulls" Everyone else put their goggles on while Willy grabbed a second pair. He placed the goggles onto Rose. "And we certainly don't want that, do we?" He whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. He then gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Especially not your pretty eyes"

Rose smiled at him. Willy turned around and began leading everyone down a white walkway as he began to explain about the room. "This is the testing room for my very latest and greatest invention: Television Chocolate. One day it occurred to me, "Hey, if television can break up a photograph into millions and millions of tiny little pieces, and send it whizzing through the air, then reassemble it on the other end, why can't I do the same thing with chocolate? Why can't I send a real bar of chocolate through the television, all ready to be eaten?"

An Oompa-Loompa was sitting in a chair with a remote in hand. He clicked through the various channels on the television set. "Sounds impossible" Mr Teavee said.

"It is impossible!" Mike agreed arrogantly. He then began to spout out information that was just useless. "You don't understand anything about science. First off, there's a difference between waves and particles. Duh!" Willy's lips curled in annoyance. "Second, the amount of power it would take to convert energy would be like nine atomic bombs!"

"Mumbler!" Willy turned around and yelled in Mike's face. It was clear he was fed up with the boy. "Seriously, I cannot understand a single word you're saying" Willy straightened his posture, facing forward again. "Okie dokie. I shall now send a bar of chocolate from one end of the room to the other by television" He put his hand up to his mouth. "Bring in the chocolate!"

About six Oompa-Loompas waked over carrying a very large Wonka Nutty Crunch Surprise Bar.  "It's gotta be real big 'cause you know how on tv you can film a regular-size man, and he comes out looking this tall?" He showed using his index finger and thumb, measuring three inches. "Same basic principle" Once the bar was placed on a platform, Willy pressed a red button. The bar was levitated into the air, and encased in glass. There was a blinding white flash and the bar was gone.

"It's gone!" Charlie exclaimed.

Willy looked at Charlie. "Told you. Now, that bar of chocolate is now rushing through the air above our heads in a million tiny little pieces" He waved his fingers in the air. He turned around and urged everyone to follow him. "Come over here! Come on! Come on!"

They all walked over to the television. The Oompa-Loompa that was watching it had it stopped on a channel with gorillas. "Watch the screen!" Willy said excitedly. "Here it comes" A smile played on his face as the chocolate bar came into focus. "Look!" He tapped Mike on the arm. "Take it"

Mike looked incredulously at him. "It's just a picture on a screen"

"Scaredy-cat" Willy faced Charlie instead. "You take it!" Charlie seemed unsure, but Willy encouraged him further. "Go on, just reach out and grab it"

"Go ahead, Charlie" Rose told her brother, also trying to encourage him. "Take it" Charlie stepped forward and reached through the screen. He grabbed the bar and pulled it out of the television. "Holy Buckets!" Rose muttered in amazement.

Charlie looked at the bar and then smiled up at Willy. "Eat it" Willy urged him. "Go on. It'll be delicious. It's the same bar. It's just gotten a little smaller on the journey, that's all"  Charlie started unwrapping the bar. Willy kept on encouraging him, even biting his own teeth together.

Charlie took a small bite into the bar. "It's great!" Charlie smiled.

"It's a miracle" Rose said dreamily.

Willy walked over and stood by the Oompa-Loompa in the chair. "So imagine, you're sitting at home, watching television, and suddenly a commercial will flash onto the screen, and a voice will say, "Wonka's chocolates are the best in the world. If you don't believe us, try one for yourself" And you simply reach out," Willy reached his hand out, and then retracted it back, as if he was grabbing something. "And take it!" He grinned, specifically at Rose, and tilted his head. "How about that?"

"So, can you send other things?" Mr Teavee asked. "Say, like breakfast cereal?"

"Do you have any idea what breakfast cereals are made of?" Willy retorted, his voice full of disgust. "It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners"

Rose giggled at that, a fond memory of Mrs Mason saying that exact same thing dancing through her head. She wasn't a fan of breakfast cereals either. "Pies for breakfast," Mrs Mason would say. "That's the way it should be. Not those pencil shavings you call cereal"

"But you could send it by television if you wanted to?" Charlie asked Willy curiously.

"Of course I could" Willy answered proudly.

Mike, now having interest in Willy's invention, asked him. "What about people?"

"Well why would I send a person? They don't taste very good at all"

"Don't you realize what you've invented? It's a teleporter!" Mike shouted. Willy and Rose shared annoyed glances with each other, both of them done with the little snot. "It's the most important invention in the history of the world. And all you can think about is chocolate" Mike spat out the word like it was poison on his tongue.

Mr Teavee told his son in a calm voice. "Calm down, Mike. I think Mr Wonka knows what he's talking about"

Mike argued with his father. "No, he doesn't! He has no idea. You think he's a genius, but he's an idiot! But I'm not" Mike made a mad dash for the platform, jumping over the Oompa-Loompa in the chair, and pushing two others out of his way.

"Hey, little boy" Willy warned in an irritated tone. "Don't push my button!" He meant it both literally and figuratively.

It was no use with Mike as he pushed the button and hopped onto the platform. He levitated into the air, doing disco dance moves and waved at everyone before he disappeared within the flash of light.

"He's gone!" Mr Teavee exclaimed.

"Let's go check the television, see what we get" Willy said. Everyone went back to the television. "I sure hope no part of him gets left behind"

Mr Teavee looked at Willy. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sometimes only half the little pieces find their way through" Willy looked at Mr Teavee, a grin on his face. "If you only had to choose one half of your son, which one would it be?"

Mr Teavee looked at him again but with shock. "What kind of a question is that?"

Willy looked at the television again. His smile turned into a pout. "No need to snap. Just a question" He turned to the seated Oompa-Loompa. "Try every channel. I'm starting to feel a little anxious" Willy turned forward again, and the Oompa-Loompa began channel surfing.

"There he is!" Charlie said as the television landed on a news channel.

"Mike!" Mr Teavee gasped. The Oompa-Loompas broke out into song again, this time to a rock number. Various channels flashed on throughout the song including the news channel, a cooking channel, two Oompa-Loompas playing with Rockem Sockem Robots, the shower scene from the movie Psycho, and the Oompa-Loompas as a rock band.

The most important thing

That we've ever learned

The most important thing we've learned

As far as children are concerned

Is never, never let them near a television set

Or better still just don't install the idiotic thing at all

(Never, never let them, never, never let them)

It rots the senses in the head

It kills imagination dead

It clogs and clutters up the mind

It makes a child so dull and blind

(So dull and blind, so dull and blind)

He can no longer understand

A fairytale in fairyland

(In Fairyland, in Fairyland)

His brain becomes as soft as cheese

His thinking powers rust and freeze

He cannot think he only sees

(He only sees, he only sees)

Regarding little Mike Teavee

We very much regret that we (regret that we)

Shall simply have to wait and see

We very much regret that we

Shall simply have to wait and see

If we can get him back to size

But if we can't

It serves him right

"Ew!" Willy cringed, when Mike was squashed by the news anchor Oompa-Loompa. "Somebody grab him!"

"Help me! Help me!" Mike shrieked through his now high-pitched voice.

Mr Teavee reached into the television and grabbed his one-inch son. "Oh thank heavens, he's completely unharmed" Willy said. He meant it sarcastically but Mr Teavee didn't understand that.

"Unharmed!?" Mr Teavee said, completely appalled. "What are you talking about?"

"Just put me back in the other way!" Mike squeaked.

"There is no other way!" Willy told the tiny boy. "It's television, not telephone. There's quite a difference"

"And what exactly do you propose we do about it?" Mr Teavee asked.

"I don't know" Willy answered, with a little shake of his head. "But young men are extremely springy. They stretch like mad" Willy gasped and a smile came across his face. "Let's go put him the the Taffy Puller!"

"Taffy Puller!?" Mr Teavee was mortified at the suggestion.

"Hey, that was my idea!" Willy said, his smile dropping. He looked at little Mike. "Boy, is he gonna be skinny" He then quietly repeated to himself, "Yeah. Taffy Puller" Willy turned to the Oompa-Loompa. "I want you to take Mr Teavee and his..." Willy paused a moment, taking another look at Mike "little boy up to the Taffy Puller, okay?"

The Oompa-Loompa bowed to Willy. He then tugged on Mr Teavee's pants, and lead him out of the room. Willy let out a relieved sigh once the Teavee's were gone. He turned to Charlie and Rose, the two remaining guests. "On with the tour. There's still so much left to see!"

[fallenrepublick]

I need some adorable as stars fluff for Feral! So, basically, he either lives or escaped (you choose) and finds himself on shili, the togruta homeworld. Fast forwards several years (savage lives!), when savage and maul are actually on Shili(for whatever reason), and Savage sees a small child, hale togruta and half zabrak and follows them to their home....where there is Feral, who actually has a wife, and a family, three sons and a daughter on the way. Overall, adorable family fluff and reunion!!

This was hard as fuck to write

And not just because I spent twenty minutes calculating the distance between Dathomir and Shili and determining that it would take someone four days, ten hours, and nine minutes to get there through lightspeed with a class 4 hyperdrive.

Warnings: None probably

It was the biggest stroke of luck he’d ever heard of. Having been tipped off by an elder Night Brother who was tired of losing so many of his people’s lives, it occurred to Feral that Savage being taken away tipped his odds of survival against him, and his best shot would be to leave while his head was still on his shoulders.

He scrambled away from the village, taking one last look at the place that was once his home. The creaking buildings and aged bridges that spanned the area gave him a strange sense of dread, as if the place was more of a prison than a place of comfort. The only positive memories he had of the place was when Savage was with him, but now that he was gone, there was no point in staying.

In terms of getting off-planet, there weren’t many options. The barren rust-hued landscape was a good option for ships to land on if anyone came down to see the Night Sisters for one reason or another, but those instances occurred few and far between. Ducking behind large rocks and sprinting across the open spaces, his eyes scanned the terrain for anything that might be useful. He’d be grateful for even a speeder if he found one.

The ground shook, the sand and rocks that peppered the stony floor beneath his feet clicking as they trembled. His balance threatened to give out with the tremors, but he held fast, waiting for it to subside. He took it as a sign that his window of opportunity was waning, and as the sun lowered on the horizon, it took with it his chances of escape. Sometime soon, they would notice he was gone, and if that happened when he was still nearby, they’d find him almost immediately. He thought of Savage and what he must be going through, subjected to Talzin’s magic and Ventress’s undeniable cruelty. He wondered if Savage was still thinking about protecting him, and the guilt began settling over his hearts. If he hadn’t been so weak and foolish, maybe Savage wouldn’t have been taken away. Maybe they’d still be together.

Shaking it off, he convinced himself that his fear and regrets had to be dealt with later. He continued on his path, now with a more fervent sense of urgency and mild panic. Across the way, backlit by the sunset, sat a ship, dark and old, most likely belonging to someone the Sisters had killed long ago. His hearts raced as he hurried to the vehicle, climbing into the cockpit, whose front window had been covered in dust by ages of heat and harsh rock storms. He wiped away at the glass and pressed the buttons on the console, practically begging it to start up.

“C’mon, c’mon…” he groaned, the dead dashboard causing an ache in his chest. “Just one more miracle, please.”

The console came to life, the rumbling of the engine in the ship soothing his fears. He smiled to himself, unsure if it was luck, or the ship, or some benevolent god that had listened. Regardless, he took hold of the controls and began his ascent. The ship rose through the atmosphere, and he was whisked out, passing the clouds above and entering the starry cavern of space above him, leaving his past and dangers behind. When he turned around to watch the planet shrink into oblivion, he thought he saw a small spec of green light pulsing from the surface.

He didn’t really have a plan beyond his escape. In all fairness, he hadn’t thought he would get so far as to actually escape unscathed, and now, floating around the vast emptiness that had before seemed so far away, he wasn’t sure what to do or where to go.

Pulling up a map stored in the ship’s database, he was painfully aware that his fuel wouldn’t last forever, so a decision had to be made. Ultimately, it boiled down to only a few systems that were nearby enough to reach, but not too nearby that he’d be easily tracked down. His target landed on Shili, a planet located in the Ehosiq Sector within the Expansion Region. Traveling coreward would give him a better chance, since it was rare that any of the people that might want to find him would dare travel in that direction. Further, the planet was under the control of the Galactic Republic, and had been since the Republic’s earliest years. He might not be noticed there, but the people sent to look for him definitely would be.

Over four days of travel and lots of contemplation about his next move later, he exited hyperspace and gradually lowered onto the planet’s surface, the environment lush and green, plants and trees sprouting up from the ground around him, almost inviting him to come and at least rest for a while.

He leapt out of the ship, taking in the scenery. He’d never seen anything so… alive. His planet had been horribly gloomy, the only living creatures he interacted with either his brothers or viscous, territorial creatures that wanted nothing to do with him except probably eat him.

In front of his ship stood a tall tree that caught his eye, though not for its height, but instead for the person that stood behind it. She was a togruta, a native to the planet, striped head-tails falling over her shoulders and on her back, light green skin almost blending in with the flora that seemed to encase her. He wasn’t sure what to do in the situation, mouth opening to say something, but no words coming out as he found himself unable to find anything worth saying.

“Hello,” the woman offered, still half-hiding herself behind the plants. “Who are you?”

Shocked at her forwardness and his lack thereof, Feral snapped to attention, straightening himself to seem more approachable, or at least vaguely respectable. He doubted it was working. “I-I’m Feral,” he replied, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t nervous. “I was, uh, trying to escape my planet. Y-You see, there were people after me and, w-well it all started because-”

“You’re hurt? Hungry?” she asked him simply. “You can come back to my town if you need help.”

Help. It wasn’t an entirely foreign concept, but this would be the first time in his life that he would be accepting it from someone that wasn’t Savage. Saying yes felt… wrong, but he was in no position to deny it.

“If… If it’s not too much trouble, maybe I could stay there for a while? At least to get my bearings straight.” he responded finally, brushing himself off and rubbing the back of his neck, unsure if what he was doing was even allowed.

The girl snickered a bit at his nervousness and hesitation. “I offered, didn’t I?” Spinning on her heel, she tread through the woods, assumingly towards her village. Feral scrambled to catch up with her, following her every step over fallen branches and various plants. Wish as he may to make conversation, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Thus, the journey was silent, save for the occasional warnings about ditches and hazards that lay on the path. But Feral found himself unable to contain his amazement when they reached their destination, the design of the buildings unlike anything he’d seen before, and an overwhelming sense of comfort in its inhabitants seeping into his own skin. Sloping architecture mirrored the look of Togruta head-tails, and the vibrant colors blended into the environment as if they occurred naturally.

She led him to a smaller building to the side, a lone point situated far from the chaos of the general populous. As colorful as the outside was, the interior was relatively unassuming, simple 

yet comfortable furniture peppering the floor, mostly made of wood and natural materials. He sat at the table near the kitchen, fidgeting as he did.

“I never asked your name…” he offered, trying not to meet her eyes as she walked about her space, gathering various food items.

“Madin. Yours?” She didn’t look up, clearly deliberating between one biscuit or another. She eventually shrugged and decided on both.

“Feral…” he said softly as she set food in front of him. Silence followed, and as Madin sat across from him confidently, he realized that he had no idea how to have an actual conversation.

“You seem so nervous,” she laughed. “I don’t bite. Most of the time.”

“I don’t want to be too much of a problem,” Feral said, his voice shaking slightly. “A-And th-the fact that you don’t really know me may seem like an issue or-”

“From what I can tell,” she began, tracing a finger along the edge of the table. “You have a…” She thought for a moment. “Behm d’ghe. A heart of warmth.”

He laughed nervously. “Well, I do have two of them.”

“Hearts of warmth, then.”

--

“Remind me again what we’re doing here, brother?” Savage asked as he sat in the cockpit of the ship, accelerating in the direction of their new destination.

Grumbling, Maul removed his feet from the dashboard and turned to his brother. “The planet is relatively defenseless, and as far as I’m concerned, taking it over to add to Mandalore’s power base is nothing short of beneficial to us. Got it?”

Savage’s expression was reminiscent of someone who did not, in fact, get it, but he didn’t bother arguing. Whatever Maul was up to was clearly better suited to his mind than anyone else’s.

Landing on the surface of Shili, Maul exited the ship and began walking away, turning back only to tell Savage, “Stay here until I return.”

Obliging his brother’s order, Savage stood beside the ramp, eyes glazing over the environment. Everything was bright and colorful, almost too much so, and he found himself wanting to leave at the first opportunity he saw. That is, until he saw something that gave him pause.

A child. And it looked… like him. Small and carefree, the male Zabrak wasn’t just a zabrak. Instead of horns were a pair of short, striped head-tails that framed his round face. When Savage approached him, he beamed, eager to speak to him.

“Whoah!” the boy exclaimed when he saw Savage in front of him. “You look a little like my father!” The thought that went through Savage’s mind upon hearing that had to be pushed down, as it was impossible. Though a hint of it lingered in the back of his head. “C’mere, I’ll show you!” The child turned and began running in the direction of his home.

Hesitant to follow the child, Savage worried about Maul returning soon to find him gone, but his curiosity overpowered it, and he found himself behind the child anyways. Instead of logic, Savage began trying to reason through all of the ways his assumption could be correct. After all, he hadn’t seen him after being taken away by Ventress, so his fate was still unknown.

In front of the boy’s house, two more boys that looked very similar to his guide ran to and fro, playing with sticks and yelling about winning some game or another. A woman stood to the side, visibly pregnant and holding a hand on her stomach, smiling and laughing as she spoke. Savage stopped walking, no longer trusting the vision before him.

Feral looked up, spotting Savage’s presence out of the corner of his eye. Almost immediately, his eyes lit up, mouth widening into the biggest smile Savage had ever seen on him. He began rushing towards his brother, Savage hurrying to meet him halfway.

“Savage!” he exclaimed holding onto the sides of his brother’s arms. “You got taller!”

“You were here the whole time…” Savage trailed off, still wary of what he was experiencing. Feral had become noticeably healthier, stronger and more confident in how he held himself. He was almost unrecognizable.

“I got lucky.” He looked over at the woman who had come up beside him. “And then I got luckier. Savage, this is Madin. She helped me when I first got here and then…”

“And then he wound up stuck with me the rest of his life,” Madin hummed. “The three monsters are Terren, Forta, and Uta. In that order. This here is going to be Shin, the only girl, unfortunately for me.” She rubbed her stomach thoughtfully.

Savage was frozen in place. Everything had changed so quickly, and though he should have expected it, he had half-wanted Feral to stay the same. But now, with his new responsibilities to Maul and his seemingly never-ending schemes, he was glad Feral had found his place.

He stepped forward and hugged Feral, practically lifting him off the ground as he did so. “I still can’t believe it!” Being set down, Feral rubbed his chest to return the air to his lungs. Savage motioned to the house. “I must hear everything about your life now.”

Maul’s mission would just have to wait.

[myarmsaretoolong]

Let’s Hang Out Sometime

Prompt #1: Let’s Hang Out Sometime - Waking Up Restrained | Shackled

Word Count: 2596

Warnings: Blood | Non-Graphic Violence/Injuries

Synopsis: Peter wakes up in a cramped, stone cell, shackles clamped around his wrists. He only has one thought on his mind, escape.

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

Peter’s head pounded, the thud, thud, thud so loud that he could barely think straight. Groggily, and with great resistance from his muscles, he managed to lift his head and peeled open his eyes. He expected to be faced with blinding lights and have to squeeze them shut again, but he hadn’t prepared for the possibility of the room being just as dark as his closed eyes. In fact, he could hardly make out the wall opposite.

It was stone, that was for sure - the whole room was besides a heavy, metal door embedded in the wall to his left - ragged and uneven and so, so cold beneath his hands and feet. The air was musty and stale and smelled strongly of mould as if it, too, was trapped with Peter and had been for years before him. Now that he thought about it, the stone floor was definitely damp, and he could hear the drip of water falling from the ceiling in the far corner of the room. Not that the corner was far away in any sense, he could probably reach out and touch it if…

If his wrists weren’t shackled to the wall behind his back. Peter twisted around, the cuffs were thick, and the chain itself buried inside the stone, but they didn’t look to be vibranium. That was something. Then again, he wasn’t wearing his Spider-Man suit, and no one apart from Tony knew the truth about the Stark Internship.

Did they?

Sure, Peter hadn’t always been diligent guaranteeing no one discovered his secret identity, but that was because no one paid attention to a kid from Queens when superheroes were out pretty much every other day taking down hordes of aliens. Not even most other kids from Queens, only Ned really-

“No,” Peter muttered, “no, no, no.” He thought back, trying to remember how he got into this situation in the first place. He and Ned were walking home from school, talking about their plans to build his new Lego Deathstar and ignoring Flash speeding past them in his father’s car, when something collided with the back of his head. That would explain the throbbing. After that, there was only black.

Peter considered calling out for Ned to see if whoever these people were had taken him, too, to see if he was even still alive, but decided against it. There was a chance that could make everything worse; he wasn’t going to let that happen. Instead, he strained his ears, hoping super-senses would come in handy and earn some information from the captors.

Sure enough, a couple of gruff sounding voices floated down the hallway outside his cell.

“How do you know he’ll come?”

“We took his intern. Stark will take that as a personal attack. He’ll swoop in like he always does to play hero and save the day, and then…”

“Boom?”

“Boom.”

Peter swallowed. Boom didn’t sound like something he wanted to stick around to see.

“And what about us?”

“We’ll be long gone, dumbass.”

“Those kids?”

“Collateral damage.”

So, Ned was here. And they had to get out, sharpish. Without a second thought, Peter tensed his arms and yanked them apart, ripping the chain between them clean in half. He leapt to his feet, taking a second massaging his stiff muscles and jumping on the spot to psych himself up, pretending each bounce didn’t send a jolt of pain up the back of his head.

Even if his identity was a lost cause, Peter still wanted the element of surprise when it came to the upcoming fight, so he stepped up to the door and examined it closer. Metal. Again, not vibranium so he could’ve easily kicked it off its hinges had he wanted to; instead, he opted to take hold of the medieval style sliding lock and jerk it backwards, making sure to catch the shattered chunks of metal before they clattered to the floor. Tentatively, he reached out for the handle and pushed. The door edged open.

Peter took a breath, shaking out his hands. “Come on, Spider-Man,” he whispered under his breath. “Come on.” The rusted hinges of the door wailed as he opened it further and Peter dived back into his cell, back flat against the wall as scuffling sounded from down the hallway.

“What was that?”

“How should I know? Go check it out.”

Peter closed his eyes and took a few deep, steady breaths as he listened to the sound of their heavy boots creep closer, the rustle of their clothes and thump of their heartbeats.

“The door’s open.”

“What?”

“The door. It’s open.”

“It’s old, probably broken. The intern’s still shackled, just go close it again.”

Peter took one last breath and pressed his hand over his mouth, not daring even to blink as the captor’s shadow slunk into the cell. A moment later, the man himself. There was a brief second where the man looked at Peter, and Peter looked at the man. He was dressed all in black, a bandana covering all but his eyes and a hat pulled covered his forehead. At his hip, a gloved hand hovered over a knife sheath.

But it was only a second, the man’s eyes grew wide, and Peter used the momentary shock to his advantage, reaching forward and clasping his head in his hands before bringing his knee up to meet it. The man crumpled in Peter’s arms, not dead, but certainly not getting up anytime soon. As quietly as possible, Peter dragged him further into the room and propped him against the corner with the drip, just for that small win of knowing he’d be annoyed when he wakes up.

“Sullivan?” Peter’s heart hammered in his chest, that voice was closer than he’d hoped, and he didn’t know how many more people could be outside. “Sullivan, what’s taking so long? Just close the damn door.” Peter looked at the cuffs still around his wrists, the remains of the chains hanging down. He didn’t dare move for the sound they would make. “Fine, I’m coming in.”

Peter grinned, announcing your entrance? Rookie move. That gave him a little boost of hope.

This guy was clearly on edge already, not only from their unsure voice, but he already had his knife tightly gripping in his hand. Still, there was a second where he froze at the sight of Peter standing over his teammate’s body. “Hi,” Peter smiled, “I’d love to hang out a little longer but-”

The captor lunged forward, knife out as if he were in a fencing match. Peter’s spidey-sense forewarned him, he stepped to the side and twirled around so he’d switched places with the attacker. “That was rude.” Peter aimed a roundhouse kick at their outstretched arm, foot connecting with their wrist with a crunch. The knife fell to the floor. “I wasn’t finished.”

With all his strength, Peter shoved the man back against the hard stone wall. He whimpered as he went down, Peter followed him, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him slightly off the ground. “Tell me why you did this,” he demanded, lip curled in a futile attempt at appearing intimidating. “What do you want.”

The man spat. Said nothing.

“You got a bomb. I heard you talking. Where is it?”

He let out a gargled laugh, a twisted smile on his face. “Stark will never know what hit him.” Peter faltered at the thought, the man used it to overpower him and lurched for his knife, twisting out of Peter’s grip and slashing at his calf. Peter bit back a yelp as blood seeped from the wound, he couldn’t risk alerting any other guards.

A scream echoed down the hallway, both Peter and the man turned to face the door. It was, unmistakably, Ned.

“Alright,” Peter growled, fixing back on the man. “I’ve had it.” He leapt up, fingertips sticking to the ceiling, and swung his legs forward so his feet his the man square in the chest. He stumbled and fell back, smashing the back of his head against the wall and fell limp to the floor.

Peter lowered himself down carefully and examined the gash running the length of his calf, it was deep and bleeding steadily, but Peter could still walk so it must be okay. Probably. Right now, he had to focus on Ned. He crept back to the doorway and peered both ways down the corridor, gentle gas lights swayed from the ceiling and lit the way. Empty.

Silently, Peter padded down the hallway. For some unknown reason, the attackers had taken his shoes and socks, leaving the rough stone to cut his bare feet. Identical doors lined the hall; Peter hovered outside each one listen out for breathing or heartbeats from inside.

A thud, followed by another scream. Peter sprinted towards the sound and flung the door open without a second thought. The room was the same as Peter’s only Ned was still shackled to the wall, blood trickling from his forehead, wide eyes staring at Peter. Also staring, three more captors, all dressed head to toe in black, all armed with knives.

“Peter?” Ned’s voice was small, but hopeful. The single word seemed to launch everyone into action. All three ran at Peter, wildly swinging their weapons as Peter bounced from wall to wall - to ceiling - to avoid them. Almost, at least, while Peter aimed a punch to the side of a captor’s head, another sliced open his side. This time, he let out a scream of pain and allowed the adrenaline to aid his fighting.

One guy was already down. Another, charged forward, knife raised, Peter dodged to the side and their knife plunged into the abdomen of the other. The assailant jumped back, into Peter’s fist, while the injured hobbled away. Peter let them. They weren’t making it far, anyway.

“Peter,” Ned said again, though his time his voice was filled with awe, maybe a little fear, “What the fuck, dude?”

“Uh,” Peter knelt beside Ned, gripped the chain of his shackles, and yanked him free. “This wasn’t the way I planned to tell you.”

“You’re Spider-Man?” Ned exclaimed, rubbing his wrists as Peter helped him to his feet. “Like the Spider-Man? Fought the Rouge Avengers, Spider-Man? Hero of Queens, Spider-Man?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. But we need to go before Mister Stark get’s here.”

Ned’s eyes grew wide. “Shit, yeah. They said something about a trap-”

“Explosion, I think. They want Mister Stark dead, and don’t care about who gets caught in the crossfire.”

“Yup,” Ned nodded furiously, already bee-lining for the door. “Let’s get outta here.”

Peter clutched one hand to his side as they jogged down the hallway, a fruitless attempt at stemming the blood flow. “Are you alright?” Peter asked. “Did they hurt you?”

“Nothing too bad,” Ned said grimly. “Coulda been a lot worse. Coulda been stabbed,” he looked Peter up and down, “twice.”

Peter grimaced. “I’m used to it, let’s just hurry.” He picked up the pace and led Ned towards the very, very, distant sounds of the city.

“That’s terrifying, Peter. Terrifying.”

“You sound just like Mister Stark.”

“He knows? And he still lets you intern?”

They came to a fork in the tunnel, one path heading left, the other veering right. “Ned, this is the internship.” Peter ran to the left; the bustle of the city was louder that way. 

“Right, That makes sense.” Ned followed close behind. He eyed the way Peter hobbled up the inclining tunnel. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yep,” Peter replied a little too quickly. “Anyway, It should be right around-“ They turned a corner, and were greeted by the sight of the tunnel exit, far off city lights glittering in what looked to be a river, obscured by thick trees. “Here.”

“Great.” Ned went ahead. Peter couldn’t blame him; he was more than eager to get out of this damp, musty old cave they appeared to be in. As Ned neared the mouth, Peter’s spidey sense exploded out of nowhere, he dived forward and caught his fist in the back of Ned’s shirt, stopping him midstep.

“Look,” he nodded down at a thin, all but invisible wire running the length of the mouth, a few inches off the ground. “Must be the trap they laid for Mister Stark.”

“Shit… I nearly tripped it.” Ned’s foot hovered over the wire. He made a deal of stepping over it, Peter followed. “We’re free!”

“Yeah, but we need to contact Mister Stark before he goes and gets himself blown up for me. Do you have your phone?”

Ned tapped his pockets, face falling. “They must have taken it.” 

“Mine too,” Peter sighed. He looked across the water at the city he could recognise from anywhere. “We‘ll just have to get to a phone box or something.”

“Do they even still exist?”

“I don’t know, Ned.” Peter threw his arms up, adrenaline wearing off and leaving him tired and cranky. “It’s that, or go all the way to the compound and hope he’s still there.”

“Or not…” Ned pointed upwards towards the city. A faint dot of light, steadily growing larger. As the Iron Man suit became visible, the boys jumped and waved their arms, trying to attract Tony’s attention, but the trees were too dense and Tony too laser-focused on the cave. “He’s not gonna see us.”

Peter ran towards the cave, yelling for Ned to stay put. Ahead of him, Tony landed in his signature pose before straightening up and heading for the cave mouth. Peter closed in. “Wait! Mister Stark, don’t-!”

Tony tripped the wire. Peter’s warning came too late to stop it... but not too late for him to react. Tony whirled around, thrusters already engaged, and flew directly at Peter, scooping him up under the arms and flying high into the air. A fireball chased them up, and Tony climbed higher still so Peter remained unharmed.

“Kid,” Tony flipped open his faceplate once the blast had dissipated. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, Mister Stark.” Peter glanced down, the trees closest to the cave’s mouth were burning, flames licking along the branches and illuminating Ned beneath them, the force had knocked him back onto his hands, and ash coated his face. But he was alive. “Could you, um, put me down now?”

“Right,” Tony cleared his throat, “of course.” He lowered them down, the second Peter’s feet touched the ground, Ned enveloped him in a hug. Tony dematerialised his suit, standing awkwardly to the side. 

Pete reached out and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Come on, Mister Stark. You’re not getting out of this one.” He pulled Tony into the hold, smiling at how normal it felt.

A female voice cut through the moment. “Boss, I hate to be a killjoy, but Mister Parker requires urgent medical attention.”

Tony sprang back, already assessing Peter for injuries and swearing under his breath. “I thought you said you were fine!”

“I am fine!” Peter shot back. He looked down at his blood-soaked shirt. “Ish.”

“Fineish is not good enough, Fri, get me medical over here, now.”

“It’s not that bad, really-“

“It’s pretty bad, dude,” Ned admitted. “You could barely walk outta that cave.”

“Snitch.”

“What! I don’t want you to die. I just found out my best friend is Spider-Man! This is the best day of my life.”

Tony turned to Ned, an eyebrow raised. “You got kidnapped.”

“Yeah. And then Spider-Man saved me.”

Tony sighed as the sound of the Quinjet approached, shaking his head. “Kids.”

[teffyjeffy]

Fabric Tears (Part 1)

SKIP TO PART 2

SKIP TO PART 3

NEXT CHAPTER (Coming Soon to the Mystery Shack!)

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ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

It was a quiet night in Gravity Falls.

...okay, no it wasn't.

Owls were hooting, bats were shrieking, cults were chanting, the usual stuff.

Most of the townsfolk on the other hand were sound asleep, oblivious to the eerie noises surrounding them outside their living spaces. They took no notice of the gnomes scrounging for food. Of the black cats hissing a warning. Of the wind howling at the moon.

Because of this obliviousness, nobody noticed the pitter patter of a lone critter stumbling down the road, malnourished and shivering from the snow that stuck to it like soot. The critter scuffled down the streets blindly, letting out small ragged huffs of air. Eventually the critter had no strength left. It crawled its way to the nearest shelter it could find. Luck was on its side apparently, as there was a giant spot up ahead. It had lights that could keep the creature warm, and an overhead structure to keep it sheltered. But food... it needed food...

The animal's blurry senses could not pick up any source of food, so it moped along, hoping to at least find a good place to rest.

Then... it saw something in the distance... a large structure, lights shining all around it, inside and out. The obscured figure rushed over to find a way inside. But it's depleted strength made it impossible to find a way in. Feeling sleep overcome themself quickly, the creature huddled over to the softest thing it could feel, and huddled up against it for warmth. Oh... there was food too... it managed to get a few nibbles in before drifting to sleep

It would resume its hunt for other food tomorrow night...

GravityTale

Everybody at the Mystery Shack was dead.

Figuratively, of course.

The Mystery Shack was finally ready to open to the public. But as the last slab of wood was hammered into the ceiling of the gift shop, and the last exhibit burnt in the Tim incident was finally replaced, the whole crew came to a realization.

After all of that work, the last thing anybody wanted to do was spend the day dealing with the mad rush that always comes with the reopening of a popular store.

"All in favor of not opening the shack today, say aye," announced Wendy from her usual spot in the gift shop.

"Aye," replied human and monster alike, except for Sans, who was out cold.

And so that was that. Today was immediately established as a take-it-easy day.

It appeared that Mabel missed the memo.

"What do you mean 'No?'" she griped at Dipper, who was refusing to get out of bed to play with her.

"I mean the phrase that is usually uttered in order to express disagreement, disapproval, and a whole lot of other words that start with 'dis-' that I am way too tired to recite right now," mumbled Dipper in his bed. "And violently shaking my bed is not going to help you change my mind. So cut it out."

Mabel paced around the room, her hands up in exasperation. "It's a sunny winter wonderland outside, and you're telling me I'm the only one eager to get out there and enjoy it?!"

"That's precisely what I'm telling you," Dipper groaned in his pillow. "With all the stress of fixing the shack, and nothing around to fuel me but coffee and Pitt Cola that I'm tired of drinking, I feel like I'm at Death's door. Like, Death has a welcome mat out for me and everything. Maybe he's even making tea."

"Not with your current attitude he wouldn't," grumbled Mabel. "He'd just give you more coffee and Pitt Cola."

"Then let me sleep! The more you keep me awake, the more cranky I'll get from it!" argued Dipper.

But Mabel was quick to shoot back. "If I let you fall asleep now, you're just gonna wake up in the middle of the night while I'm asleep! That's no fun, Dipper! Stop being such a Mr. No-Fun!"

Dipper simply grumbled back at her. "Just drop it Mabel. I'm tired. I'm only getting out of this bed if a future-me teleports in here and demands that I do so."

A second went by. Two seconds. Three seconds. No time machines materialized in the kids' bedroom.

"I rest my case," said Dipper, before pulling the covers over his head. Any further attempts to get him out of bed were futile.

Mabel frowned. "The next time we have a snowball fight, your team is going to get an automatic penalty."

But Dipper was already fast asleep.

Mabel huffed, opening the door to exit the bedroom.

WHAM!

Only to collide right into Frisk.

The collision sent both kids to the ground, landing on their bottoms somewhat painfully.

"Owwwwww," Mabel muttered, before looking up and seeing who it was. "Oh! Hey Frisk!" 

"Hi Mabel," greeted Frisk, rubbing their forehead as they stood back up with Mabel's help. "Sorry about that. I should have knocked..."

"Don't worry about it~! I've collided with Dipper's forehead so many times in my life, I barely feel a thing now!" she said while beaming with pride.

"That's... good I suppose," said Frisk with a gentle chuckle of embarrassment.

"So watcha up to?" asked Mabel, causing Frisk to stumble a second, still not used to how quickly Mabel could change subjects.

"I'm um... pretending to look for my dress-up cowboy lasso," said Frisk, looking back with a hint of annoyance towards the stars that lead down to the first floor. "Dad insists it must be somewhere in this shack, but I am almost certain that it was gone before my family and I entered the Mystery Shack for the first time."

"Huh," said Mabel, putting a hand to her chin and looking upwards at nothing. "Perhaps some gnomes snatched it while you weren't looking?"

"That seems very possible, albeit unlikely," said Frisk, ending the topic by tilting their head to see Dipper's slumbering figure and asking, "He still isn't up?"

"Nope," growled Mabel. "He's insistent that he won't change his mind later, either. Ugh, and I had a bunch of winter activities planned for today!"

"Well that's a shame," said Frisk. "But then again, when it came to maintaining order in the shack for the past couple of days, Dipper did do the most work out of all of us."

"Like what?" asked Mabel.

"Well..."

"Papyrus, what are you doing?! Spaghetti is not meant to be baked at that temperature! Grunkle Stan, where do we keep the fire extinguisher again?!"

"No Mettaton, I cannot listen to your historical life of glamour right now, I need to put out another fire in the museum! Now hand over the hose, and stop pouring it all over yourself! And while we're on the subject, how come you don't rust or short circuit by doing that?!"

"Undyne! It's a washing machine! It's not going to hurt you or anyone else, so just put the spear away! Wwwwwwhoawhoawhoa WHOA HEY DON'T AIM IT AT ME!!!"

"Napstablook, I appreciate it, but I don't think that you are capable of helping me move this piece of furniture. No no no don't cry! I wasn't trying to bring you down, I mean you're LITERALLY incapable of- oh! H-hey Mettaton! Hoo boy... you look like you're ready to kill me..."

"Yeeeeaaaaaahhhh I guess you're right," concluded Mabel.

"I really am sorry that my family can be a handful sometimes," said Frisk somewhat embarrassed.

"Nawwwwww it's alright! It's a lot of fun!" said Mabel, patting Frisk on the back.

"I am pleased you feel that way, but I have a feeling that Dipper would disagree with you," said Frisk in a joking manner.

"Well that's because he would rather suffer from his lack of energy instead of taking some time to drink some Mabel Juice. If he did, he would never complain about being too tired ever again!" countered Mabel, speaking as if she was a superhero addressing a nation.

Frisk laughed. "You know, you keep bringing that drink up. But for a drink that you're always talking about, I don't believe I have had a chance to try it."

Stars twinkled in Mabel's eyes. "Well then let's put a stop to that! TO THE KITCHEN!"

Before Frisk could agree or disagree, Mabel was pulling them down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Mabel pulled out a seat for Frisk, who calmly sat down. After that, Mabel darted for the fridge and cupboards, snatching an unidentifiable liquid, some ice cubes, and a whole lot of sugar. She didn't bother to shut any of the cupboards as she went over to grab a couple of measuring pitchers and measure out more sugar than actual liquid. After that, Mabel poured the sugar and juice into a giant mixing bowl and rushed off to hunt down the other ingredients. All the while, Mabel was eagerly explaining the process to Frisk.

It was during this excited chatter that Frisk observed Mabel open another cupboard and take out a box of... crayons?

"Ummmmmm," said Frisk.

"No interrupting!" hollered Mabel in an off-key sing songy voice, dumping the (yep, those were definitely) crayons into the mixture. "Never disrupt Master Juice Mixer Mabel when she is guiding her newest pupil through the process!"

"I um..." Frisk paused for a second before pushing through "I l-like my drinks without crayons. I er... I don't like the way they taste."

Mabel paused. After an awkward amount of time passed, she looked down at the now-empty box of crayons that was floating at the top of her brew. Her gaze eventually trailed down further, to spot the aforementioned crayons that had sunk to the bottom of the bowl. Frisk still did not know what made Mabel tick, but their guess was that Mabel would simply tell them that the recipe calls for food coloring. As such, Frisk was ready to give her some alternative solutions. Such as using normal food coloring.

So it was a little surprising for Frisk to see Mabel's smile become a concerned frown.

"...was I responsible for this?" asked Mabel.

"...I believe you were," replied Frisk awkwardly.

"That's.... pfft, yeah, those crayons are not supposed to be in there. Heh wow, how did I manage get so sidetracked...?" concluded Mabel, dumping the bowl and starting over, her face a little more pink than before.

Well that was... weird. Now the mood of the whole room felt... extremely awkward. It was the same uncomfortable atmosphere that Frisk experienced when they forgot to get hot dogs for Dipper and Monster Kid, during the Bike Romp Race...

Frisk concluded that desperate measures were necessary in order to bring the mood back into a state of normalcy.

It was time to unleash... the puns.

"It's fine Mabel. I'm sure the fruit juice will come out just fine, as long as you concentrate on doing your best~"

Mabel had to halt the process of making the drink just so she could keep a straight face. This sudden pun-attack could not go unpunished, of course. So she retaliated. Hard.

"Ha!" said Mabel, standing up in a pompous stance, her left hand on her hip and her right hand open and hovering a few centimetres in front of her mouth in mock laughter. "A stranger waltzes in and has the gall to coach me on how I concoct my signature drink? You clearly are not one of my staff! You mean to overthrow me! I Vitamin-C right through your pathetic scheme~!"

Frisk snorted. "Why no, what ever gave you that idea~? I beg of you to take a step back and recon-Cider my intentions!"

"How dare you!" reprimanded Mabel, giggles no longer able to be withheld. "I will hear no more from you! Cease this attack, or face Juicetice!"

"Okay! I sugarrender! I sugarrender!" hollered Frisk, holding their hands up in a mock-yielding before flopping down on the table in a fit of laughter, while Mabel was sprawled on the floor cackling.

"That's another swift and powerful victory for me!" said Mabel when she finally regained composure. "Just wait till I tell Undyne!"

"She'll be quite impressed, I'm sure," said Frisk, playfully. "Careful though, she might challenge you to a fight if you boast too much."

After a few minutes, the questionable drink was ready for serving. Mabel grabbed a few translucent mugs and poured out the Mabel Juice, allowing her own glass to have just a little more of the drink than Frisk's. Frisk thanked Mabel as she gave them their drink, despite how uneasy Frisk felt about the whole situation.

"You ready to give your body a giant wake up call?" said Mabel excitedly. 

"No time like the present..." said Frisk nervously.

Frisk took a decent sip of the concoction while Mabel downed hers in just a couple of gulps.

"SO!!!" barked Mabel, slamming her fists on the table and almost spilling the startled Frisk's drink. "What do ya think? It's good, right?"

The lack of crayons definitely helped, thought Frisk.

"Very energizing," spoke Frisk.

Frisk felt that their answer was peasant enough, so they grew a little concerned when Mabel's response was with a slightly slacked jaw accompanied by absolute silence.

"M-Mabel? You oka-?"

"eeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" screamed Mabel, leaping out of her seat and running around the kitchen. "FRISK LIKES MY DRINK!!! FRISK LIKES MY DRIIIIIIIINK!!!"

Frisk couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle before them. "I guess so!"

At that point, Stan decided to step in.

"Alright ya trouble makers, I'm gonna have to confiscate these for the time being," said Stanley, carefully yanking the drinks out of the kids' hands and returning them to the mixing bowl, which he put in the fridge. "You're gonna have to wait till tomorrow to finish the rest."

"Awwwwww why?" pouted Mabel.

"Because as we all have established, today is a take-it-easy day," explained Stan, before calling outside. "Right Soos?"

"That's right, Mr. Pines!" answered Soos with a thumbs up. "All dudes within the Mystery Shack are being subjected to a 24 hour stress free environment with no exceptions. I cannot stress this enough. Oh wait, heh, guess that defeats the purpose. Wow, this is harder than I thought..."

"You see?" said Stan, returning his focus to the kids. "You gotta understand, we've all had a giant string of eventful days. New faces, bedding arrangements, the Mystery Shack getting destroyed again, me training for a bike competition and winning it- you folks seeing the pattern here yet?" A single nod from both children was all the man needed. "We've all been running on adrenaline for a good long while now, and we're starting to feel the aftermath of it. So just this once, you're going to have to lower the energy, Mabel. Or at least the volume of it."

"C'monnnnnnnnnnn" guffawed Mabel, one hand giving a wrist flick while the other hand rested on Frisk's shoulder. "It's not like there's other folks here that are as anti-Mabel-Energy as Dipper is today."

It wasn't like she was lying. She saw energetic faces all around the place. Papyrus was as attentive as always, sitting in one of the four living room chairs (since Soos had finally gotten around to adding more seats to the shack from the storage room to accommodate for the monsters) and he seemed to be... knitting. Asgore didn't appear to be exhausted either; the only sigh he gave was one of contentment as he sat on the back porch couch and took in the scent of pine covered in snow. Napstablook was never capable of falling asleep, and as he fazed into the living room, he seemed to have a face that suggested that he felt lucky that ghosts never feel tired. Mettaton had just replenished his battery, so he could be heard loudly singing from the basement. Sans was snoring in the attic, but it's not like Mabel had to worry about waking him up. Stanford was studying in his lab, and it was located deep enough underground that no chaos on the surface floor could distract him, not unless the chaos was catastrophic. So honestly, where was the harm?

Stan shook his head with a slight frown. "I dunno about that, sweet cheeks," he said with a grumble, pointing to the gift shop.

Frisk followed Stan's gaze and scanned the gift shop as well. They then turned back to look at Mabel, their face emanating concern. "He's right, Mabel."

Now Mabel was curious. She peered over to the gift shop to see what kind of fuss was happening over there. 

What she found were Toriel and Wendy, who appeared to be having a normal conversation. But Mabel was a dowsing rod when it came to cheerfulness. And boy oh boy were Toriel and Wendy devoid of it.

Toriel seemed especially distant. She still greeted anybody who passed by with a cordial "Hello," and she always gave nods and similar minuscule movements in response to whatever Wendy was talking about. But the Goat Mom's usual cheer and open personality was disturbingly lacking today.

Wendy, while not looking as troubled as Toriel seemed to be, appeared miserably drained. Her complexion was paler than usual, her hair wasn't as brushed, and the bags under her eyes looked heavier than... heavy stuff.

"Whoa," managed Mabel, looking back to Stan and Frisk.

"So yeah," said Stan, "Let's try to keep the noise down, eh kiddos? For their sake if not my own?" He added, ruffling Mabel's hair.

"Of course, Mr. Stanley," said Frisk with a nod of understanding, before adding a little more quietly, "Are Mabel and I still allowed to play?"

"Huh," said Stan with a huff. "Looks like someone's trying to find a loophole in my instructions."

Frisk blanched slightly. "Well sir I-"

"I like your style, kid. We'll make a shady businessperson out of you yet!" declared Stanley, hefting Frisk up to give them a noogie. Frisk, having grown accustomed to Undyne's noogies, found Stan's to actually be ticklish. 

"Sure, go on and play! Knock yourselves out!" said Stan, setting a softly laughing Frisk back down in their seat. "This is considered a 'me day' after all!"

"Can it really be called a 'me day' when all of us are expected to relax today?" asked Mabel slyly. "Sounds more like an 'everyone day' to me!"

"Mabel, sweetie, I already have my snot nosed smart-alec of a brother criticizing me on my grammar. I don't need my bubbly grand niece chastising me on my word choices. Besides, calling it an 'everyone day' makes you sound like Karl Marx. And we all know what that lead to."

"I dunnooooo," said Mabel, looking off to the side and giving a comical shrug, which gave Frisk a small chuckle. "'Mabel Marx' has a nice ring to it~!"

"Yeah well so does 'Stanley Stalin,' but you don't see me changing my name to that, do ya?" countered Stanley.

"Good point," said Mabel with a nod, before walking up to Frisk, gripping their arm, and pulling them out of their seat. "Welp, I'mma go play with Frisk now! C'mon Frisk! Let's see what Undyne and Alphys are doing! I wanna tell them about my drink!"

"O-okay!" said Frisk, slightly startled but not putting up a fight as they were guided away from the kitchen. "S-see you later, Mr. Stanley!"

"Play nice now!" said Stanley. "Oh, and hey! It'd be best if you left my brother alone for the time being, alright?! He’s trying to coax some info out of that weirdo Tim, and I have a feeling it isn’t going so well! The runt chucked a globe at me just for startling him!"

"Got it!" Mabel hollered, while Frisk simply gave the man an 'OK' sign. Then they both darted off.

Under his breath, Stanley muttered, "That man really needs to cool his jets sometimes..."

"Is This Action Of Globe Throwing A Habit Of Yours?" asked the metal head of Tim. "If It Is, I Must Urge You To Drop This Habit As It Is Unhealthy To Maintaining Strong Relationships To Friends and Family."

"Argh!" groaned Stanford, pounding his hands on the desk in front of him and darting his head to glare at the talking scrap metal. "No, it is not a habit, and if you would stop freaking out every time I say 'proph-' ... I mean, every time I say that word, I may not feel so inclined to throw things! So why can't you just cooperate?!"

"Sir, This Is No Mere Bug That I Can Just Erase. It Is Elusive As Much As It Is Exclusive. But If It Makes You Feel Better, I Am Able To Bring Up Other Methods Of Destruction Without Being Overpowered By The Error That You Identify As 'Insanity.'"

"That's not going to help me much, Tim. But I suppose it gives you credibility. Alright fine, go ahead," said Stanford, tapping his foot impatiently.

"As You Wish," said Tim. "Storms. Solar Explosion. Volcanoes. Tidal Waves. War. Meteors-"

"Okay that's enough," said Stanford, holding up a finger to halt Tim's explanation. "You made your point."

"Perhaps We Should Save This Conversation For Another Time. Maybe Then, I Will Have Figured How To Delete This Malicious Program. Perhaps With A Proper Wipe Of My Memory Banks, I May-"

"No no no hold on. Your memory of this pro-... omen is important. I just need to find away to coax it out of you without triggering the bug."

Stanford took a long deep breath. "Now then. Let's start from the top again. A couple weeks back, my grand nephew presented me with this black journal that he found. At the end of the first page, it appears to speak of what seems like a proph- let me rephrase that-"

"Stop Thinking About Not Saying 'Prophecy.'"

"Tim, I'm not a helpless buffoon. I can keep myself from saying- wait, how come you have no problem saying 'prophecy?!' Oh shoot-"

"THE ANOMALY WILL DOOM ALL." shrieked Tim, eyes glowing red while sirens blared throughout the lab. "IF THE DOOR STAYS LOCKED, ALL IS LOST! LOST!! LOOOOOOOOSSSSST!!!"

"Sigh... Nice going, Stanford..." cussed the scientist to himself, reaching for his ray gun once again to shut the screaming contraption up.

Mabel was just finishing up explaining her drink, with Frisk alongside her, to Undyne and Alphys in the museum when the shack quivered for a second.

"Whoa, did you feel that Alphys?" said Undyne, standing up straight "Something caused the floor to violently rumble. Another attack? Would people get mad if I said I wanted that to happen?"

"Th-they probably wouldn't get mad at you Undyne," responded Alphys, having also felt the rumble. "B-but I reeeeaally hope we aren't getting attacked again. Stanley would s-surely make us leave if the shack were to be destroyed a second time. Especially after we had j-just finished fixing it."

"No worries, ladies!" chirped Mabel, "It's probably Grunkle Ford. Grunkle Stan said that he's been toying with Tim's head and that the results were leaving him um..."

"Frustrated?" tried Frisk.

"Yeah, frustrated!" said a smiling Mabel. "Grunkle Ford tends to get a little explosive-happy when he's frustrated. But only while working in his lab."

"Why is he trying to get information from the head of a murderous AI? Doesn't that sound a little counterproductive?" questioned Undyne with slight exasperation.

"Y-yes, it is quite improbable that Tim will be willing or able to t-tell us anything," said Alphys, her hands marginally fidgeting. "B-but unfortunately, Tim is the only lead we have to find out if this a-anomaly is simply a glitch in the AI's system or is actually a real-life threat."

"Hm. You have a fair point there babe," said Undyne, satisfied with Alphys's answer. "Well, if that anomaly exists, it better stop existing reeeeaaal soon, or it's gonna have to say hello to my fists! And then it'll immediately have to say goodbye to my fists! BECAUSE I WILL KILL IT! WITH MY FISTS! NNNNNNNGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"U-undyne, please lower your voice," said Alphys in nervous hushed tones. "Some of our friends are trying to n-nap."

"Pfft. Lower my voice? You know I can't just do that," said Undyne, folding her arms almost in a grumpy pout.

Mabel looked to Frisk. "I connect with this woman on a spiritual level."

Alphys fidgeted with her hands. "W-w-well then how about we go outside for a walk? O-or a run if you prefer? That way you can shout all you want without bothering anybody in the shack?" suggested Alphys, her own cheeks beginning to turn pink.

Frisk caught this and smirked at Undyne. "Undyne, I believe you are being asked out on a date~"

"M-maybe," timidly admitted Alphys, looking down to the ground, smiling despite her embarrassment.

Undyne blushed as well, her normally huge toothy grin shrinking down to a tiny nervous smile, almost cat-like. "No fair Alphys, you know I can't say no when it comes to going on a date with you..."

Alphys shyly chuckled. "It's my ultimate t-trap card."

"Oooh, maybe we'll encounter the anomaly while we're outside!" said Undyne to Alphys, the former's fists clenching in excitement. "And then you can watch me bash its skull in!"

"I fear for the survival of the anomaly's skull," said Frisk, making Mabel giggle.

"W-well if we stumble across it, I'll leave it to you, Undyne" said Alphys, a smile on her face.

"Shall we?" said Undyne, extending her hand with a grin.

"S-sure," said Alphys, taking Undyne's hand bashfully.

Without warning, Undyne flung Alphys onto her shoulders, and they charged out of the exhibit room and out the front door.

"Are they always like this?" asked Mabel to Frisk. "Please tell me the answer is yes."

"The answer is yes," confirmed Frisk, their classic stoic expression never leaving them. 

"I have no idea if you are being sincere or just parroting what I said," said Mabel bluntly.

"And thus, I have created the one mystery that shall never ever be solved by either of the Pines Twins," said Frisk, a tiny smirk showing on their face.

"If Dipper was here, he would smack you for that remark," teased Mabel.

"He can try~" said Frisk, the smirk becoming a smile.

Papyrus had just finished putting his knitting needles and scarf away in the small lamp cabinet next to him in order to take a quick break, when he noticed a very peculiar occurrence happening right in front of him.

Toriel had unplugged the television from the wall and was getting ready to pick it up from the floor. 

"UM, QUEEN TORIEL?" said Papyrus, cocking his head. "MIGHT I ASK WHAT YOU ARE DOING?"

"What I am doing is none of your concern. And please stop calling me 'Queen' Toriel," said Toriel, in a very harsh, un-Toriel-like tone.

"THE WEIGHT OF THAT TELEVISION SEEMS TO BE AGGRAVATING YOU, MISS TORIEL," incorrectly deduced Papyrus. "NOT TO FEAR, FOR I AM TRAINED IN THE ARTS OF LIFTING TV'S! GENTLY SETTING THEM DOWN, ON THE OTHER HAND, TENDS TO BE MESSY. BECAUSE MY ARMS FALL OFF."

Toriel's took in a very strained inhale of breath, before she released her tension with a deep sigh. "I do not need any help lifting this television, thank you Papyrus. But if you would be so kind as to not look into this matter any further, I would greatly appreciate it."

"OF COURSE, MADAM!" bellowed Papyrus with a hearty salute. The salute then slowly descended as Papyrus's face expressed confusion. "UM... WHAT MATTER ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT?"

"Nothing Papyrus, nothing," said Toriel with a half hearted chuckle as she resumed carrying the heavy television out of the living room.

Mabel and Frisk tiptoed through the gift shop, not wanting to bother a cranky Wendy who was venting to Napstabook. The ghost was, to his credit, listening very attentively.

"Then Undyne says that I should look them all in the eye and yell 'If any of you have a problem with that, I'll suplex you into a mountain!' Which, I mean, I appreciate her willing to help, but nothing she ever suggests to me is a good idea when put into practice. It's frustrating, you know?"

"I'm sorry to hear that................" mumbled Napstablook sincerely. "I would offer you my own advice, but I'm sure you'll only find it worse than Undyne's...................."

"Napstablook, you absolute sugarcube, all I need is your listening ear right now."

"I technically don't have ears......................"

As soon as Mabel had both of her feet on the living room carpet, she bounded right up to the still-confused Papyrus.

"Hey there Pappy Man!" said Mabel, using her inside voice but vigorously waving hello to make up for it.

"HM?" said Papyrus, Mabel's greeting shaking him out of his stupor. "OH! GREETINGS, MABEL! HAVE YOU ALSO COME TO TAKE A PIECE OF FURNITURE? IF SO, I WILL GLADLY HELP YOU CARRY IT!"

It took a second for the baffled Mabel to realize the TV was missing. "Huh. I was wondering why this room seemed a little roomier than usual..."

"We do not require any furniture, thank you Papyrus," said Frisk, having caught up to Mabel. "May we ask who it was that took the television?"

"I WOULD LOVE TO!" exclaimed Papyrus. "HOWEVER, I WAS ASKED TO NOT LOOK ANY FURTHER INTO THE MATTER!"

"Oh..." said Frisk, hiding their disappointment. "And... who asked you to not do that? Is it somebody we know?"

"OH YES, IT IS SOMEONE YOU KNOW VERY WELL!" said Papyrus with a single solid nod.

"So, not a burglar then?" said Mabel, almost bummed out that there wouldn't be an opportunity to chase a robber down the streets of Gravity Falls. On her list of things to do when she was the only energetic person in the room, chasing a robber was number four. Numbers three, two, and one were classified.

"CORRECT, HUMAN MABEL! MISS TORIEL IS MANY THINGS, BUT A BURGLAR IS NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS," said Papyrus proudly, before realizing his mistake two seconds later. "NYOO HOO HOO!!! I PROMISED HER I WOULD NOT LOOK FURTHER INTO THE MATTER, BUT I CANNOT HELP IT! WHAT IS SHE PLANNING TO USE THE TELEVISION FOR?!"

"Mother took the TV?" said Frisk, perplexed by the answer inadvertently given to them by Papyrus. "But why would-"

Frisk's eyebrows rose up in sudden understanding, and they went uncomfortably silent for a few seconds, much to the curiosity of Mabel, and Papyrus to a lesser extent.

"Thank you Papyrus. I appreciate your honesty," said Frisk, ending the subject before anybody could say anything. Just as quickly, Frisk started up a new conversation, having now noticed the knitting needles poking out of the lamp cabinet. "Papyrus, are you knitting something?"

Papyrus beamed, all too eager to talk about what he was currently working on. He opened the lamp cabinet to bring the needles and scarf out and showcase them to the two kids. "INDEED I AM, HUMAN! MISS TORIEL HAD BROUGHT THE IDEA UP TO ME AFTER TASTING MY LATEST (AND DARE I SAY GREATEST) SPAGHETTI DISH! I'M SUPPOSING SHE BELIEVED THAT I HAD ACHIEVED THE MAXIMUM LEVEL OF CULINARY PERFECTION, BECAUSE SHE WAS VERY INSISTENT THAT I PERHAPS MOVE ON TO A NEW HOBBY!"

The kids were pretty certain that Toriel's reasons for doing this were different than from what Papyrus believed them to be.

"SO I DECIDED THAT IF I HAD MASTERED SPAGHETTI AS AN EDIBLE DISH, PERHAPS I COULD MASTER THE ART OF SPAGHETTI THROUGH A DIFFERENT CREATIVE OUTLET!"

Frisk and Mabel realized that the primary colors of the scarf that Papyrus was knitting were faded orange and vibrant red.

"You're making a scarf that looks like spaghetti?!" asked Mabel, her eyes brimming with total awe.

"YOU GOT IT!" said Papyrus excitedly. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL REVOLUTIONIZE THE FASHION INDUSTRY WITH MY AMAZING SPAGHETTI SCARF!!!"

"Ooh! OOH!" said a bouncing Mabel, a super awesome amazing idea spawning in her head. "Can you knit Teddy bears?! Do you charge for them? What do you require? I'll give you the money from my Brother's secret stash! I'll give you every single one of my friendship wristbands! I'll give you the schematics for the Human Sized Hamster Ball." pleaded Mabel, getting right up to Papyrus's ear-socket to intensely whisper the last part.

"OF COURSE I CAN KNIT TEDDY BEARS, LITTLE MABEL! UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE YET TO MAKE ONE THAT IS RECOGNIZED AS A TEDDY BEAR BY EVERYBODY ELSE. THEY USUALLY MISTAKE THEM FOR OTHER OBJECTS. LIKE A PILE OF LEAVES, FOR EXAMPLE. OR A SMASHED CAKE. OR TRAMPLED FLOWERS. SANS ONCE MISTOOK ONE OF MY KNITTED TEDDY BEARS FOR THIS VERY PECULIAR RESIDUE THAT SPAWNS WHEN A HUMAN 'DRINKS' TOO MUCH... BUT HE ASSURED ME THAT HIS EYES WERE STILL BLURRY FROM JUST WAKING UP AND THAT HE WAS CERTAIN THAT IT WOULD LOOK A LOT BETTER IF HE WAS FULLY AWAKE. WHICH IS WEIRD BECAUSE HE MOST CERTAINLY HAS NO EYES... WHICH LEADS ME TO BELIEVE THAT HE WAS LYING TO ME... WHY WOULD HE FEEL THE NEED TO LIE ABOUT HIS OPINION OF ONE'S ART? ISN'T ART SUPPOSED TO BE OPEN TO THE VIEWER'S INTERPRETATION? THAT'S WHAT UNDYNE TOLD ME ONCE, AFTER SHE HAD ALMOST SET ONE OF FRISK'S DRAWINGS ON FIRE BECAUSE THEY MADE HER FACE LOOK SILLY..."

"Did Undyne really try to do that?" asked Mabel to Frisk, in surprise.

"She did try," confirmed Frisk, with a stoic-faced nod. "She failed though. She left my drawing alone. She used to tell me it was because she wanted to come up with a better punishment for the drawing. But quite recently, she admitted that she caught a glimpse of how upset I was and decided not to go through with torching the drawing I made."

"Can I see the drawing?" asked Mabel sweetly.

"No," answered Frisk, maintaining their emotionless expression flawlessly. "Undyne's face is too weird. You may develop the urge to light my drawing on fire."

"Nawwwwwwww, no I wouldn't!" said Mabel, jokingly rolling her eyes as she smiled brightly. "I'd put it in my scrapbook!"

"I cannot risk it," said Frisk, clearly joking.

"You cannot hide from Mabel Piiiiiines! No secret is safe from herrrrrrrr! She knows all, and whatever she doesn't know about, she leaaarrrnnns aboooooouuuuut!" said Mabel, moaning and wiggling her outstretched hands like a cliche ghost from any old Saturday morning cartoon.

"That sounds like a massive invasion of privacy," pointed out Frisk.

"No secret is saaaaaaaaafffeeeeee~!" wailed Mabel, completely ignoring Frisk.

"ACTUALLY, WHILE WE ARE STILL ON THE TOPIC OF TEDDY BEARS," chirped up Papyrus, "I BELIEVE THAT THE LAST TIME I SAW KING ASGORE, HE WAS HOLDING WHAT LOOKED LIKE A TEDDY BEAR IN HIS HANDS. HE DIDN'T LOOK TOO EXCITED ABOUT IT THOUGH... PERHAPS HE HAS FORGOTTEN WHAT A TEDDY BEAR LOOKS LIKE?"

"Well then perhaps we shall visit him next?" Frisk asked Mabel.

"Well duh! Of course we are!" said the very excited Mabel, taking Frisk's arm. "Have fun with the knitting, Papyrus!"

"WILL DO!" hollered Papyrus, waving enthusiastically as Mabel and Frisk made their way to the back porch to meet up with Asgore.

Asgore wouldn't say that the object in his hands disturbed him, but he would not say that it didn't unsettle him either.

The Teddy bear that he currently hand in his hands had seen better days. Its dark plum fur was damp from snow and crusty from dirt. There was also a substantial amount of stuffing that was missing from it, but no matter how hard Asgore investigated, he could not find a single tear in the stuffed animal's stitching. 

"Strange..." muttered Asgore, for perhaps the fifth time since discovering the stuffed toy curled up next to the tattered couch.

Did it belong to Mabel? Asgore wanted to say yes, but then again, Mabel was a girl who treated stuffed animals like her own children, surely she would not let a Teddy bear become so void of stuffing. And she had a knack for keeping track of her items. If this bear belonged to her, it never would have ended up abandoned outside in the first place...

Maybe the lack of stuffing meant it belonged to Undyne? No, of course not, don't be silly Asgore. Undyne was ferocious, yes, but she is not one to use her own stuffed animal for training practice. And if she did, the Teddy bear would be in tatters...

Maybe Frisk? No, once again. Of the many toys that they had brought up to the surface after their journey in the underground, a Teddy bear was never in Frisk's box. And besides, Frisk is as kind to stuffed animals as Mabel is.

Asgore continued to list off possible owners of the strange toy, and all of them resulted in a no. He was so preoccupied with figuring out this mystery that he never saw Mabel sneaking up on him to scare him. Or so she thought.

Instead, Asgore startled her by jerking his head in her direction, a joyful smile on his face.

"Why howdy Mabel! Trying to give this old soul a scare, are you? I apologize, it will take more than that to catch me by surprise."

"Awwwwww man! Why do you have to be so cool, Goat Dad?!" complimented a pouting Mabel.

Asgore responded with a boisterous laugh, reaching out to scratch Mabel's head with a big warm fluffy paw. "I don't know if I see myself as 'cool'. Just 'prepared.'"

"What are you doing out here, Dad?" asked Frisk, joining Mabel. "I find you sitting on this couch more often than I find you inside. Aren't you cold?"

"Not at all, child!" laughed Asgore. "Winter on the surface is a wonderland compared to the underground. As for what I am currently doing out here..."

Then Asgore held up the malnourished looking Teddy bear for the children to see.

"I found this small toy nestled up next to the couch. I have no idea where it came from or who it may belong to. Would either of you have an idea?"

Frisk took the stuffed animal to inspect it more thoroughly. As they did so, a frown slowly developed on their face.

"There's something about this bear that I don't like..." commented Frisk.

Mabel peaked behind Frisk's shoulders, since Frisk appeared to be too focused on the item to hand it over to her. As she inspected it, her expression turned quizzical. 

"It's probably because this poor Teddy is absolutely filthy!" remarked Mabel. "He needs a bath, pronto!"

"Well yes, but that's not what I meant-" Frisk attempted to interject, but the blink of an eye, the Teddy bear was gone from their hands and into Mabel's hands. 

"Just look at the poor guy!” said Mabel. “He looks miserable!"

"Are you sure that it's the dirt that's making the Teddy bear look miserable, and not the facial thread itself?" replied Frisk after a few seconds of silence.

They weren't far off. Looking at the toy's face, the stitches and threads definitely gave the Teddy bear a forlorn expression.

"Okay so maybe the designer of this bear hated their job and wanted to let the whole world know," said Mabel, rolling her eyes. "But a clean bear is a happy bear, even if their stitched face does not reflect it!"

"Let her wash the bear Frisk," kindly advised Asgore. "It's best that we have it nice and clean in case its owner shows up to the shack looking for it."

Frisk pouted for a second before conceding with a nod of their head. "Yes Dad." 

"Very good," beamed Asgore. He ended the issue by patting Frisk on the head, which managed to coax a smile out of the young ambassador.

"Great! Meet you at the laundry room!" squealed Mabel, darting back inside the house with bear in hand, not feeling the need to drag Frisk with her this time.

This gave Frisk a chance to get up on the couch and sit next to their father. They looked up at him, their stoic expression showing a hint of concern.

"Um... Dad? Mother hasn’t been looking too well..."

"I know, Frisk," said Asgore, his voice low and somber. "As much as it hurts though, we need to leave her be. It's what she wants."

"But is she like this every year? Isn’t that unhealthy for her?" asked Frisk with growing concern.

Asgore gave a long sigh, sinking into the couch despite his sitting position remaining rigid. "That is probably the case, my child. But you know how bad I am at making the right call when it comes to those who are in distress.”

Frisk looked down, not knowing how to reply to that. Instead, they slumped off of the couch, walking over to the back door leading back inside the shack. They turned to Asgore, looking ready to say one last thing, but debating whether or not it will have any effect. Finally, they spoke.

"Then I will."

And they opened the door and walked back inside.

The king let out a downtrodden sigh, unaware of the miniature hole in the side of the couch that appeared to have been bitten into recently.

"And those are the steps involved!" finished Mabel.

"My my! Such a complex system~! Even though I'm sure I could come up with a much better one~ Alas, you beat me to the punch~ I envy you, little Mabel~! " Mabel had decided to chat with Mettaton, who was in his EX model, while waiting for the loud drying machine to finish drying off the Teddy bear. The discussion had started with Mabel's plans for fixing the Teddy bear, and eventually evolved into discussing an interesting monster from the Underground, named Woshua.

"So wait," said Mabel, "The reason you guys didn't have washing machines in the underground was because you had somebody who was basically their own washing machine? That's wild!"

"Indeed!" confirmed the charming robot. "He was not a fan of it though. At first, the poor fellow was very cross with being one of the very few sources of cleanliness in the underground. And even though they loved to clean, and eventually grew used to their new role in the underground, it was only a matter of time before they began to grow tired of it. Burnout is never to be taken lightly, darling. Remember that~"

"Oh believe me, I'm aware," said Mabel with a wearied huff of laughter. "I've been trying to teach my brother that lesson for the last five years. Actually, for the last forever."

"Oh yes~ The boy gags at the mere thought of taking a break," chuckled Mettaton, before deciding to change the subject. "So, you said that Asgore found this beaten up stuffed toy next to the couch outside? And nobody has seen it prior to today? Sounds like the perfect premise for a B-list horror flick~"

"You mean a flick where the animation is stop-motion and the monsters are made of clay?"

"Well I wouldn't stoop to such shallow effects if I was directing that kind of movie. But yes~"

"Would I be the leading costume designer?!"

"You would splatter bright and loud colors on every single costume, for every single lead and ensemble member, and completely ruin the common color palette of horror movies," said Mettaton. "Of course you would be my leading costume designer~" he added with a smile of delight. 

Just then, the dryer emitted a small *ding!* and the machine grew silent.

"Allow me~" said Mettaton, extending his arms to fetch the toy from the dryer without ever having to shift from where he was standing, eyes closed and a glamorous smirk donning his face, like he just finished juggling ten knives flawlessly.

Mabel giggled, rolling her eyes in a teasing manner, and took the bear from the proud robot's hand. "If I could be as glamorous as you are, I don't think my body would be able to handle it. My spirit would break free from this physical vessel and ascend to Glamour Heaven."

"Of course it would! Which is why I, a ghost in the vessel of a robot, am the only one capable of reaching such heights! Although... doing so would mean losing contact with my friends and family, so... I'm going to hold off on that for a while."

"Awwww that's really sweet of you to think of them!" said Mabel, squeezing her bear and swinging it from side to side while keeping it close to her chest.

"Thank you Mabel," said Mettaton, giving the young girl the most genuine smile she had ever seen from him.

Mabel beamed back, and lifted the bear to give it a proper look now that it had been cleaned.

Except for the sullen expression that remained on the toy's face, the bear looked much better. Its fur was radiant and smooth, and its cute beady eyes almost shined. The bear was still somewhat raggedy due to its lack of stuffing, but Mabel decided that she would address that on a later date. Knitting was one thing, but sewing a bear back up was a different beast. A beast she could easily vanquish, but the only weapon in her current arsenal that could slay the beast with was the Mystery Shack's old sewing machine. And that thing was loud. And given the typical luck of the twins, it was probably haunted too.

"I hope this new companion of yours does not spark envy from your pet pig," joked Mettaton, bringing Mabel back to reality.

"Naaah, Waddles is very understanding! Besides, he's lately been very occupied by playing around with Frisk's dog."

"Frisk doesn't own a dog though..."

Suddenly the door for the washing machine burst open, revealing a pig and a Samoyed dog, both sopping wet and smiling. They leaped out of the device, shook themselves clean, yipped and oinked with supposed satisfaction, and trotted out of the laundry room.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mettaton in understanding. "That dog!"

"Yeah, that's the fluff-ruff that I was talking about!" said Mabel, not appearing to be phased by the fact that both the puppy and Waddles managed to get inside an active washing machine and survive. She did know however that there was no collar around the puppy's neck.

"Yeah, he's a curious fellow," admitted Mettaton. "I don't think anybody I know has ownership of that particular puppy. Actually, he has this look in his eyes, like he believes he owns us."

"What, you think we are dealing with a possible puppy dog uprising?!" said Mabel, seeming more excited by the idea than intimidated by it.

"That would be headline-worthy indeed~ Don't let your guard down, my little maple leaf~" joked Mettaton, using the nickname that he had established for Mabel.

"Oh stop," replied Mabel, playfully elbowing Mettaton's leg, since that was as high as her elbow could reach.

"I should probably get going," continued Mabel. "Don't wish to keep you from your singing! Sounds great by the way! The next time I host a karaoke night, remind me to invite you!"

"No need to invite me! I am more than happy to crash your party~" proudly proclaimed Mettaton, which Mabel guessed was his way of expressing gratitude for being invited. "Now run along, darling~!"

When Frisk found Mabel again, it was in the parlor room. She was in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth excitedly, her arms extended forward and wiggling the bear in her hands.

"And I’m gonna call you Mr. SnuggleLots, and you'll be the honorary guest at my next tea party, and I'll introduce you to Waddles, ooh, OOH! And also I'm gonna find a way to get more stuffing for you so you can be all plushy again!! GO ME!!!"

"Hello again, Mabel," greeted Frisk.

"Frisk!" exclaimed an excited Mabel, her face lighting up when she saw them. She sprung out of the rocking chair, shoving the Teddy bear into Frisk's field of vision so it was the only thing that they could see. "Look at this sparkling clean little cub! Isn't he the cuuuuuuutest thing ever!?"

"I admit that he looks a little better now that he is clean," admitted Frisk, "but I'm still unnerved by how abandoned he looks."

"One step at a time, Frisko," soothed Mabel, patting Frisk on their shoulder. "I am going to put Mr. SnuggleLots through Mabel's Rehabiliteddy Program™!"

"Mabel's Rehabiliteddy Program™?" repeated Frisk, subconsciously surprised by their own curiosity. "What is that?"

"A list of steps I've made for abandoned Teddy bears that I find. I would have told you about this earlier if you joined me in the laundry room, but it's okay; I'm telling you now!"

"So what are the daily steps?"

"Day one is washing the bear. Day two is feeding the bear. Day three is a tea party for the bear. For Mr. SnuggleLots, I may need to add a fourth day for emergency surgery to take care of his unsatisfactory level of stuffing."

"Or to locate the owner of the bear," responded Frisk.

Hearing that, a thought crossed Mabel's mind.

"Yeah, but, here's the thing," said Mabel, beginning to lightly pace in a circle, "What if this bear has no owner?"

"What gave you that idea, Mabel?" asked Frisk, tilting their head and raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Mettaton and I encountered the white dog again. You know, the one that I saw in the cave full of ice crystals? Ooo that reminds me I still want to make a charm necklace with the crystal that you gave me BUT ANYWAY-! That dog? He had no owner!"

"So you believe we are dealing with a stray Teddy bear?" deduced Frisk, having followed Mabel's line of thinking after deciding that explaining the difference between stuffed animals and pets to her would be futile.

"I'm not saying we are," corrected Mabel, lightly poking Frisk in the center of their chest. "But I'm saying we could be."

"I see," said Frisk.

"So, if need be, day five will be dedicated to finding a home for this little tyke if we can't locate his original owner!" concluded Mabel, squishing the bear one more time before setting it down on the rocking chair. It said in a sitting position for a few seconds before the insufficient amount of stuffing caused it to slump over. "Day four will definitely be for stuffing him up again though."

"That sounds like a plan," concurred Frisk. "I have one more question though."

"Ask away!" said Mabel, folding her arms and taking a proud stance.

"Is there any downside to doing more than one step on the same day?" proposed Frisk.

"Not really..." said Mabel, beginning to gently pace in a circle as she contemplated Frisk's question. "It depends on how the bear is feeling. I can just tell from the fur and the face if they wish to speed up the process or not. But for Mr. SnuggleLots..." she glances to the slouched form of the thin bear, "I believe taking our time is crucial. As much as I don't wish to spread it out, it is better in the long run. Malnourished creatures can easily get sick if you try to take care of them all at once."

"You learned that from Dipper, didn't you?" said Frisk with a knowing smirk.

Mabel blushed slightly. "Yeah..." she admitted, "...but I'm the one who puts his knowledge to good use!" she added, regaining her honor.

"Well that's good," said Frisk, the smirk becoming a smile. Then they walked over to the bear and picked it up. "We should probably get this guy to our bedroom."

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly. Frisk and Mabel enjoyed dinner with the rest of the crew, though Dipper was absent, and Sans as well, strangely. All the while, Mr. SnuggleLots was sitting pretty and piper atop the nightstand that separated Dipper's bed from Mabel's. When Frisk and Mabel returned to the bedroom, Dipper was still fast asleep.

"Wanna draw a mustache on him???" asked Mabel with a devilish grin.

"It's best we don't test him," said Frisk, before adding with a sly smirk "Another time perhaps~"

Mabel giggled once more before stifling a yawn. "Goodnight Frisk."

"Goodnight Mabel," replied Frisk, sleeping into their sleeping bag.

Then the lights went off.

Just as Mabel suspected, the middle of the night had Dipper suddenly turning in his bed. But it wasn't because of how royally messed up his atomic clock was.

It was in fact because his face was being blasted with hot air that smelled like dog breath.

“mmmmf… mmmno… no I don’t need anymore candy… mm? chocolate taffy? Mmmmmy favorrriiiite…"

Then there was an audible "huff" and Dipper was wide awake.

"Wha...?" 

And there, atop of Dipper's chest, face hovering over his...

Was a plum furred, hungry bear. One that was very much alive. And Drooling. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

PART 2

SKIP TO PART 3

NEXT CHAPTER (Coming Soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PREVIOUS

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

[cherryplasmids]

☆ all that could have been ☆

pairing: john seed x deputy!reader fandom: far cry 5—non-game sequence prompt: it’s about time john knows how you truly feel, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time.  notes: first time doing far cry so please be nice lol — i was encouraged by @hopecountyhellcat​ and @punisherpage​ —check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

    Everything went wrong in a matter of seconds. In one moment, you’re flying high in the air with the intent of going to the Rye’s house for a drink of beer and some laughs. After a successful day of bothering the Seeds with no violent moments, you wanted to end the day right with your favorite people. You messed with the radio for a bit before turning it off in favor of humming your favorite song. The next moment, the engine explodes and you have no choice but to jump out of the plane. The parachute doesn’t do much to give you a safe landing. Instead, it gets caught in the sturdy branches of the tall Montana trees. It rips easily. 

And you’re going down fast, bruising every body part as you hit multiple branches on the way. 

There’s no time to think before your back slams against the forest dirt, head bouncing off the ground and connecting with loose rocks. A mixture of an agonized groan and a winded gasp emits from your lips. Tears gather up in your eyes immediately as obnoxious ringing vibrates through your head. Other than that, you can’t hear anything. Not even the loud explosion from the destroyed plane rattles you. You wouldn’t even notice it happened if it wasn’t for the flash of bursting colors and heat warming your skin. 

You want to scream for help. To let out something besides the pathetic and agonized croak gurgling out of you. Your bruised throat disables that from happening.

 Hopefully, the engulfing fire catches someone's attention. 

An eternity later, you decide to move, no matter how excruciating. Every movement sends a stinging sensation through your arms as if a thousand wasps stung you all at once. Lifting yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes zero in on the rest of your body. It hasn’t faired any better. A rusted jagged piece of shrapnel sticks out of your thigh, with blood steadily pouring out the wound. With just the tip pointing out, a passing thought breezes by—10th-grade anatomy class mentioned important veins in the thigh. You never memorized the placements, but you might have an inkling now. 

The watch on your right-hand beeps. The screen is scratched up but not cracked enough to hinder any information from being displayed. Messages upon messages come through, all from the Rye’s and Sharky. As you read through them, your mind gets all foggy, jumbling the words together. Removing your eyes from the bright screen, you begin to move with no direction. There’s no way you would die alone in the middle of this godforsaken county. 

It takes a long time until you reach a clearing. Of course, it happens to be John Seed’s massive ranch. With nowhere else to go, you continue crawling to his front porch. When you reach it, you sit propped up against the wooden banisters. Despite the pain, your body begins to relax. You’re safe here. Always safe on John’s ranch. With the crash being in his territory, there’s no doubt he would go investigate. He’ll know it’s your plane once he sees the cropped baby blue sweater he bought you three days ago in the back seat and the expensive black jeans he left there after a quick rendevous a week ago. If he digs any further, he might even find the polaroid nude you tucked away in the back pocket. Only if the fire didn’t burn them.

Noticing the blood trail, you realized there isn’t enough time left before the inevitable demise. The thigh injury is pumping blood faster than a cheetah running to catch prey. By the time John comes, you’ll be done. 

Jacob will celebrate the news. 

You take a deep breath as you hear John’s orotund voice, mixing in with the low ringing still prominent in your ear. The pulsing sensation is thumping in your head is triggered, flaring behind your skull. He’s most likely a figment of your imagination, conjured up to keep you company until you die. A lazy hand travels slowly to touch your head. The matted hair is covered in blood and you let out a choked laugh. 

“Rook?”

It takes a couple of seconds to register John’s walking toward you, eyebrows furrowed. He lifts his sunglasses and perches it on top of his head like normal. The closer he gets, the more his body mingles with the blurriness of the trees, swaying to the sporadic wind breeze. You wave at him, blood dripping from your hand. 

He’s actually here.

“Hi, John.” Your raucous voice echoes in your head but you could tell it doesn’t affect him. In reality, it’s a whisper he isn’t close enough to hear. He runs to you once he notices the blood, his shiny Gucci belt beaming in the sunshine. A tired smile reaches your lips and you sigh, attempting to ignore the throbbing headache, the difficulty in swallowing, and the continuous blood loss. John’s here now. He’ll save you from this fuck up. 

He’s yelling something but your hearing goes in and out. The words don’t make any sense when you attempt to piece them together. It only hurts to try. Once he reaches you, he tucks you into his muscular arms with his lips forming words. His lips are moving too quickly to be understandable so you opt to read his expressive eyes. Tears prick the baby blues for a few seconds before spilling over like a waterfall. 

“Ro—Rook—Rook!” His voice like a high-piched foghorn, John successfully pulls you out of your daydream. 

A smile still plays at your lips. “I had a little accident, John.”

He’s shaking his head. “A random fucking Angel shot down your plane.” He sniffles and cradles the back of your head. His body shudders when he sees blood oozing out onto his hands. Never once did he ever cringe from the substance in his adult life and yet, here is practically breaking at the sight of it. He doesn’t care if other people suffer—actually revels in the sight of it. But now, with you in his arms sporting the same pained expression as the rest, he’s afraid. A childhood flashback of Jacob bleeding from parental abuse takes over for a moment. The fear is vivid. 

“I’ve called an ambulance.”

A thought conjures up in your head. He’s utterly stunning. Somehow John remains mesmerizing in every way. The splotchy redness on his cheeks, the peeking snot, and his frightened eyes do nothing to deter that fact. 

“Joseph isn’t too happy, I bet.” You let out a weak chuckle before peering up at him. “You came for me.” 

“I’ll always come for you.” 

“What a tiring job.” Your words begin to slur, saliva gathering in your mouth. However, the way John’s eyes comically widen, you know it isn’t saliva. 

“You’re going to be okay. The ambulance is coming and you’ll be fine—back to annoying us, okay?” 

You cough up, blood splattering John’s left cheek in small droplets. “Maybe not.”

“No!” He yells and you flinch. He visibly softens, a fresh batch of tears seeping out of his eyes. The redness of his eyes interferes with his beautiful baby blues. You want him to stop crying, so you grasp onto his hand and give him a strained, reassuring smile. 

“Sorry,”

He shakes his head and caresses his thumb across your split bottom lip. With such tender care mixed in with whispered lovely words, your body eases into relaxation. Every word or sound coming out of his mouth is like butter, all warm and comforting. Even in this time, the raging pain subsides for a moment to allow some clarity—to listen to John’s rich, calming voice. 

Everything about him is magical. 

“Do you think we could ever be together?” The pain from your bruised throat causes the words to take ages for it to come together. Soon, coherent sentences won’t be possible. 

“Of course, we are meant to be together. Joseph said so himself. God wills it, Rook.” 

You ignore his words and continue with your frayed thoughts. “Not in this lifetime. In another where your brother isn’t a psycho—” You take a deep breath, cutting the sentence short. The anger bubbling within your stomach at the thought of Joseph uses more energy than you would like. You’d be damned if your last words were about him. 

“I love you, John Seed. It took me some time but yeah. I love you.” Your words are choppy, consciousness falling in and out as you strung your last sentences together. 

He begins to sob.

“Would’ve married you too. Spend every day loving you. You deserve it, Johnny.” 

After feeling numb for so long, John can’t lose you. You’re the only thing that encourages real, raw emotion from him. To come to terms with his traumas and twist it into a positive outlook. “You've been through shit, Johnny.” You told him months ago, the first time you stumbled upon his ranch. Why let that shit get you down? Stop you from living life? I’ll teach ya, free of charge. With a wink and a pat on the ass, John knew he was hooked. And you’ve done exactly that. Taught him that there’s more to life than suffering. A life where he doesn’t have to inflict pain to feel something. A life where he can live happily without the idea of sins carving him up at any given moment. You’ve been ingrained within every aspect of his life to the point where he doesn’t remember ever being without you. 

What will he do when you’re gone?

Another heart-wrenching sob emits from him. His alarmingly begins trembling even more. Through all the anguished cries, he says your real name, chanting it as if it’s the only prayer he knows. He’s talking again and moving frantically. But nothing computes in your brain. He does all sorts of things in seconds: wiping his snot on his blue Prada shirt, tapping your cheeks when your eyes close for a nanosecond too long, waving at something beyond your restricted vision. All the quick movements send your mind spinning like a gravitron. It takes you back to the first time you ever went on one. You were 10 and they had to stop midway because you threw up in it. 

Your eyes begin to feel heavy “Let’s take a nap, Johnny.”

“No,” his voice sounds like he’s speaking underwater. “You have to stay up, Rook or else—” He breaks off, choking on his own words before pulling you further into his arms to cry into your chest. “Please, just listen to me for once.”

You try to nod but your head is filled with heavy lead, weighing it to the point where it hurts to even twitch. All the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by blood. It creeps in your throat before spilling out of your lips in a thin trail. 

Slowly but surely, you begin to fade, sinking into a deep abyss of empty blackness. Your last thought is about John’s baby blues and all that could’ve been. 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,848 published: april 18, 2020 [my birthday!] edited: n/a

[all-things-skam]

Title: Sander’s mom

Ship: Wtfock | Robbe Ijzermans + Sander Driesen (Sobbe)

_______________

Saturday arrived faster than Robbe would've liked.

He woke up in Sander's arms, his lover's soft breath tickling his neck, still sound asleep. Robbe smiled.

Last night had been a crazy one. Everyone came and it made Robbe's heart warm. Christmases at the IJzermans hadn't been too jolly the past years, it was nice to celebrate with all of his friends - and boyfriend.

Even Noor came. When Robbe invited her, he honestly didn't think she would show up. Things were chill between them now - and Sander too. Robbe still couldn't believe she got Sander for the secret Santa. What were the odds?

Aaron even kissed Amber. What? Robbe wished he had seen this one happen. Aaron was so clumsy with his words - especially around Amber -, how did he find the balls to go up to her, charm her and kiss her? Thanks to Moyo, the moment was captured in their vlog.

The festivities didn't end until 3am. Aaron and Amber were making out in a corner, competing with Robbe and Sander while Yasmina and Zoe were on the verge of falling asleep on the couch, tired from all the exams and studying. Unlike her two girl friends, Jana was completely wasted, her Christmas present having been consumed to the last drop. Luca and Milan watched as she hung off Jens's neck, trying to get a hold of his beer but the latter shook his head, not wanting her to pass out or get alcohol poisoning. Since Aaron got lucky tonight, Moyo tried to charm Noor, but his attempts weren't working - too bad for him.

Sander had stayed over, incapable of sleeping without the other now that they were back together. Lucky for them, it was winter break and they'll have two weeks to do so until school starts again and Sander has to sleep at home...without Robbe.

A vibrating noise echoed in the room, Robbe's phone's screen coming to life on the nightstand. He knitted his eyebrows and grabbed his phone, squinting from the bright light. New message from Mom. Robbe tensed. Although he was confident when he sent it last night, anxiety had crept under his skin, nervous to open the text and read his mother's reaction to his coming out and boyfriend announcement. What if she hated him?

From: Mams Robbe, my son. I'm happy you found love. I'm impatient to meet this boy who captured your heart, xx

Happy tears rolled down Robbe's face as he read his mother's acceptance, phone slipping from his hands and falling on the sheets. This was a huge relief.

There was movement from behind and a pair of lips pressed on Robbe's shoulder blade. ''Morning,'' Sander's hoarse and sleepy voice mumbled. He nuzzled into his boyfriend's warm skin, glad that school was over and they could sleep in and cuddle.

Robbe wiped his tears before rolling over, but there was still some left.

Sander frowned. ''Were you crying?'' he asked with care and worry.

The brunet sniffled, smiling. ''It's nothing. It's happy tears,'' he promised his lover.

Uncertain, Sander gave him the benefit of the doubt and pulled Robbe to his chest, holding him tightly - in case he needed comfort.

A part of Sander wished they could stay in bed all day, feeling so warm and cosy under the sheets, but they had somewhere to be.

''Ready for tonight?''

There was a short silence before Robbe responded. ''Y-yeah...''

''You don't sound sure. It's okay if you changed you mind, my mom will understand-''

''No. I want to meet her,'' Robbe cut. He bit his lip, exhaling a breath. ''I'm just...nervous.''

Their first time seeing each other hadn't been under the greatest circumstance. Sander was wrapped in an aluminum blanket, about to be rolled inside an ambulance, and Robbe was yelling Sander's name over Britt's shoulder.

She seemed to love Britt, too. What if she didn't like him?

Sensing that Robbe's mind was drifting and causing him anxiety, Sander kissed his forehead, pulling Robbe from his thoughts. ''Stop it. Whatever you're thinking about, stop it. I don't want this dinner to cause you stress and anxiety.'' Sander paused, gently rubbing his boyfriend's back. ''I can't speak on my mom's behalf, but she seemed excited to meet you. Like I said, you're the first guy I bring home.''

''What if she doesn't like me?''

''It's impossible to not like you,'' Sander retorted and Robbe swatted him.

‘’I’m serious, Sander.’’

The blond sighed, tucking away rebel curl from Robbe’s forehead. ‘’She’ll love you, okay? And, in case she doesn’t - which is very unlikely to happen -, it won't change anything between us. Okay?’’

.

Standing in front of the tall two story house, Robbe checked the address three times to make sure it was the right place. Its outside was sunshine yellow and the door a bit rusted. Sander had gone home late morning, needing to go to Britt's to grab the last of his stuff and clean a bit - at his mom's request. He didn't want to see Britt by himself, but felt wrong to ask Robbe to come along.

Robbe pressed the doorbell and, less than fifteen seconds later, Sander opened the door and pulled him in, a grin on his lips. It felt good to see Sander smile again, Robbe has missed his bright smile.

Beanie and jacket still on, Sander cupped Robbe's face and kissed him. ''I missed you so much,'' he said between them, making Robbe roll his eyes fondly.

''We've been apart for less than six hours...''

Sander shrugged. ''So? I still missed you. You know I always do.''

Her name was Ines, Robbe learned as they entered the kitchen, holding hands. The younger one's palm was a bit sweaty from nervousness, but Sander didn't point it out. He gave it a little squeeze and introduced Robbe to his mom.

Ines was was the polar opposite of Sander - dark hair and eyes -, but they had the same smile. Dinner almost done, she pulled out a bottle of wine and led the couple to the living for an appetizer. She pulled the cork and remembered that Robbe was underage. Shaking his head, Robbe assured her that it was fine. He had drank wine before - stronger alcohol than wine too.

''Sander, darling, why don't you go fetch the wine glasses from the crockery?''

''Be right back.'' He kissed Robbe's cheek and left.

This was the moment Robbe dreaded would happen tonight: being alone with Sander's mom. He wasn't scared of her, she seemed to be nice, but Robbe was anxious about what she might say to him, what opinion she might already have of him. His entrance in Sander's life had caused a lot of chaos - and he was aware. She must’ve heard of him, whether in good or bad, depending on who it came from.

Although your significant other's parents' opinion of you shouldn't matter, Robbe wanted] to be liked by Sander's mom. He didn't want to put a strain between their mother-son relationship.

Robbe chewed on his bottom lip, playing with a thread on the hem of his hoodie, praying Sander would get back fast.

Alas, Sander seemed to be taking his sweet time, giving enough time for his mom to talk to his boyfriend.

Ines looked at Robbe, a nervous yet apologetic smile on her lips. ''Robbe. That's Robbe, right?''

''Yes.’’ His stomach tightened and his palms were sweaty - again.

''I want to apologize for the other night. You and I didn't start on good terms and I don't want you to think that I hate you or ever held you responsible for my son's manic episode - regardless of what Britt must've told you. I didn't mean to give you a wrong look across the street; I was worried for Sander and confused about who you were and why you were yelling my son's name.

‘’When I asked Britt who you were, she told me you were no one. Then, I recognized your face: you were the boy on my son’s drawings.’’ Ines paused, gathering her next words. ''I thought Britt was the one that made my boy happy, but I was wrong. I've never seen Sander this happy before and I think you're responsible for his happiness. The way he talks about you- He's in love. Deep in love.''

A clatter came from the kitchen, interrupting Ines's speech and making Robbe jump. She glanced back, trying to see what happened, but her vision was blocked by the pillar. Hopefully, nothing was broken.

‘’Everything okay, Honey?’’

‘’Yeah. I stubbed my toe on the coffee table and grandma’s candle holder fell over,’’ Sander explained, returning with three fancy looking wine glasses. ‘’Nothing’s broken. Don’t worry.’’

[visual-explorxtion]

Murder for One - One Shot

Summary: They found their way back to where the nightmare began. The Oswell E Spencer mansion. But things took a wrong turn. Chris has been murdered. And it’s up to the gang to track down his murderer.

A/N: I wanted to write a short murder mystery but I kept emphasising a lot of things so it turned out a bit longer than I’ve intended. Also been rewatching Twin Peaks so I was kinda inspired by it.

Word count: 2.3K

11:55 pm, June 14th, Oswell E Spencer's mansion.

A moonless night, just like many of the others, is a deadly premonition. BANG! The thunder roared and the split of lightning flashed that lit up the rustic library in a blink of an eye, then shrouded by darkness once more. The only light source is the lone fireplace, located on the far side of the room. The firewood crackled.

Chris is dead.

Nobody came in or out of this mansion. Except for our four little suspects: Leon S Kennedy, an American Agent working under the government; Jill Valentine, former S.T.A.R.S member and current Special Ops Agent in the BSAA; Claire Redfield, a member of TerraSave; Carlos Oliveira, former UBCS and mercenary. The four stood looking down at the corpse, the light behind their eyes extinguished along with the life of their former friend.

2 hours earlier:

Chris was sent out by HQ to investigate further about a new strain of the virus being created in the Spencer's mansion. Of course, this was all tipped by an anonymous caller. HQ should've known better. This mission was a quick data retrieval, but the rest of the group got worried when Chris hasn't returned after an hour has passed. As soon as they've received the news, the four of them came rushing to the scene of the crime. Inside, they found Chris lying cold on the oak wood flooring. Upon further investigation, they can pinpoint that Chris: took a hard blow to the head, visible strangle marks around his neck and several stab wounds in the general area of the torso. All of these could be the fatal cause of Chris's death. There was no sign of intruders or breaking of any locks which means, the killer's only access is the front door.

"Who could've done such a thing?" Claire sniffles.

"I'll contact HQ and see if we could get some back-up and analysis going." Leon tampers with his phone. "Shit, can't get a signal here."

Jill took a quick glance at Claire then focused on Chris's lifeless body, she sighs. "This isn't right. There's no blood around the corpse." she contemplates for a moment. "...which means, the murdering didn't happen in this room. Alright, let spread out and see what we can find." They nod, each set off in different directions. Claire and Carlos scout the ground floor while Leon and Jill tread lightly along the first floor. Strong wind clatter the decade-old windows and echos through the hallway, making a ghastly sound. Jill swallows. Mansions give her the creeps and often unfond memories. The upper hallway split into three separate doorways; one lead to a bathroom, another is a decorated study and lastly is the dust-coated master bedroom.

"I'll go check out the study." Leon declared, she gave an approving nod and both head on to their chosen destination, flashlight in hand. The doorknob is rusted, giving it several twists then it groaned open. The bedroom is grim with a dampened smell, furniture covered in white sheets. If this doesn't scream creepy, Jill ain't sure what else would. The beam of light continues to shine on showing nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly, torch caught something reflective, just shying away behind the edge of the bed frame. Jill grasp the object for a closer inspection to reveal a candle holder, decaying away with time. Bingo! Bloodstains. The red liquid also seeped along the skirt of the white covers. Is this...the scene of the crime?

"Jill!" Leon cries out in distress.

The murder weapon clanked against the wooden floor. Jill sprinted in full speed towards the study only to find Leon hunched over the rows of bookshelves.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" she pants.

"Come take a look at this." he reaches out his hand.

Jill frowns. "But this is Chris's knife...Why would it be here?"

"This could be where Chris got murdered. Look, there's blood splatter across here." The crimson fluid trailed its way near the bookcase. "This can't be right...if this is the murder weapon... Wait!" Jill turned on her heels and marched farther along the hallway. She managed to pry open the last door which unveiled the unkempt bathroom, the scene mirrors the other rooms. "As I thought."

"But...this doesn't make any sense." Leon's face scrunched upon looking at its interior. The third murder weapon. A rope loosely hanging from the shower curtain rail, blood tainted the hemp thread. Must be caused by the friction against Chris's skin which broke the outer layer of the tissue.

"Leon! Jill!" Carlos's voice roared halfway across the place.

They both gave a knowing look to one another before heading off to the foyer. Claire and Carlos stood with an unsettling look on their faces.

"I think...we've found what may have killed Chris..." they both pulled out a blood-stained object. A kitchen knife and a porcelain vase. Sadness filled their eyes as they both averted their gaze away from the weapons.

"No...it's impossible. This getting more confusing by the minute." Leon huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What do you mean? These two must be the murder weapon. The bloodstains can't lie." Claire frustrates over Leon's remarks and stood her ground.

"We found more objects like this upstairs, stained with blood, each in different rooms," Leon explains.

Jill sighs, rubbing her temple with her index finger. "Let's just...go back to the library and calmly figure this out."

"Maybe if we reenact it out, we can decode this mystery." an idea struck Carlos. Leon pats his arm before shuffling back to along the route to the library.

The temperature hasn't changed at all since they left, still cold and bitter. Chris, still laying as dead as ever, being kept warm by the fireplace. Something caught Jill's eye, an envelope, seated on top of the mantelpiece with words written in cursive. 'Open me, when the truth is revealed'. She turns the letter over. But, there were no names or any seal marks.

"Hey, was this here before?" her voice sounded quizzical.

Carlos frowns, "I don't think so...Why? What's the matter?"

Jill shakes her head. "No, it doesn't matter. Let's just focus the matter at hand right now."

The grandfather clock chimed and made the group jump. 1 am...it's been 4 hours since Chris's death, but they aren't getting any closer to catching the killer. Jill starts picking at her fingers.

"Something's off...Nobody else knows Chris is here, except us. This was a solo mission. So that means...one of us did it." Jill said, out of speculation. She's never wrong about a hunch, even if that deduction was a bold one.

"Wait, what do you mean one of us? All of us have an alibi. We were with each other for the past few hours." the sound of Leon's voice warns her that she's treading on thin ice.

"Yes, but there's a two-hour window when the murder happened. And neither one of us has proof of our alibi in the time gap."

Tension is rising in the room. Indeed, this is a huge accusation. But Jill can't just stand aside and let the murderer walk free with bloodshed on their hands, let alone with her best friends blood.

"I have an alibi," Claire spoke out. "I was stuck on the highway on my way to Chris's place and I stopped by Krispy Kreme too."

"Well, I shared a ride with Jill this whole time. She'd know if I went missing for even a split second. And before that, I was with a friend. They can prove it." Carlos raised his hand.

"Leon?" Claire asks.

Leon mumbled quietly. None of his words was audible. "You're gonna have to speak up." He let out a huge sigh. "I said, I was at the bar. Just trying to get drunk. There. Ya happy now?"

Something still doesn't feel right. Jill knew that deep down, one of them is lying. "No. This isn't it."

"What do you mean 'this isn't it'? We all have an alibi, so it's not us." Carlos grunts.

"What about you Jill? Where were you before meeting up with Carlos?" Claire's words pressed up against Jill.

"I was working overtime, finishing off some paperwork at the office."

"Was there anyone else at the office with you?"

"No...no there wasn't. Everyone already left for the day and I was the only one." Jill bites her lip.

"Oh, God. D-did you...did you kill my brother? But why? I thought you two went through everything together!" tears start spilling down Claire's cheeks.

"No! It's not me! What reason have I got for me to kill Chris? He's my best friend. What will I gain from that?!" Jill's stomach churns, even she's starting to doubt herself. Wait a minute…

Leon wraps his arms around Claire's shoulders to comfort her emotions, his head trying to get around the words that he just heard, but his feelings are numbed at this moment.

A snicker reverberates the empty library. The lightning stopped about an hour ago, silence fills the air around them. Gradually, the snicker became a period of giggles.

"Y'know, you almost had me fooled. All this time, I thought something doesn't feel quite right. Why all the different murder weapons? And why spread them apart in the mansion? I couldn't figure it out...Even I've started to doubt myself, maybe I had a hand in pushing Chris's death. But I soon realise, all that gibberish was just a smokescreen!" She picks up the envelope and peeks at its content. "As I thought exactly. The truth."

The three of them looked at Jill with a quizzical look painted on their faces.

"Yes, they are all murder weapons. They did play a part in Chris's death, but they were only induced AFTER he got murdered!" she waltzes towards Leon, holding out a hand. "Leon, if you please." His brain whirred for a moment before he knew what Jill was talking about. He placed the object in her hand per her request.

"This is the true murder weapon." Jill presented Chris's combat knife. " The actual weapon that caused the fatal blow. Isn't that right, Claire?"

Claire's eyes widen in horror. "Are you out of your mind?! How could I have killed my own brother? I have an alibi."

Carlos exhaled. "She's right. It couldn't be her."

Jill cackled. "That's what I thought at first. But, something you said made me reconsider. 'The bloodstains can't lie'. Why are you so sure about that? You and Carlos only searched the lower part of the mansion, so why are you so sure that there were bloodstains on EVERY object when we only took the vital one?"

Claire kept her head down, looking at her feet, her shoulders shivering.

"As for the alibi, I have solid proof that you did it." Jill grins. "You said you were stuck on the highway. You weren't wrong. Travelling from your apartment to Chris's will require you to take a long journey, the only way is to drive on the highway. But! From your apartment to the mansion, you do not need to get on the highway. And the mansion to Chris's place is only a short drive so you have enough time to murder Chris, plan all the objects and the bloodstains and you still have time to spare. Of course, if somebody was to kill Chris, he would immediately defeat them without breaking a sweat. But what if that person knows him well and is someone he trusts wholeheartedly? Then, the circumstance would be much different." Jill takes a deep breath. "You've planned everything perfectly but you've missed the most important and intricate detail."

"And what is that?" she asks.

"The bookcase. When Chris was looking through the documents, you killed him there and then, using his own knife. Everything in that room was built with glazed wood so the cleaning up shouldn’t have taken so long. But, you forgot about the bookcase. Specks of blood were left on the hinges." she exhales. "Oh! And there's a new Krispy Kreme that just opened two blocks away from his place. I know because he took me there last week."

Claire's sniffing stopped. Her gaze remained on the ground. A soft hum came out of her mouth, slowly it turned into a giggle and lead to a burst of bellowing laughter.

"Well, colour me impressed. So what if I killed my own brother, hm?" She skipped her way toward his corpse. "The killing was quick. But the cleaning up! That took a whole hour!"

"You're sick. That's your brother."

"And what about it? Maybe he should have done what I told him not to do. Maybe then, he'd still be alive. Who told him to eat the last chicken nugget? It was mine! But he didn't listen to me. HE SHOULD HAVE LISTENED!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" A voice boomed as the door opens.

"Chris???" They said in unison.

Chris stare at them and sigh. The group sitting gathered around the coffee table in Chris's new apartment playing Cluedo at 1 in the morning. Jill and Claire having a go at each other's throats, Carlos sitting comfortably watching as this goes down and Leon's been on his phone for the past 5 minutes.

"But it was just getting good. We've just revealed who murdered you." Claire gave him the sad puppy eyes.

"Why am I the one getting murdered? Can't you use the default characters?" Chris frowns. "Also, do you want me to get kicked out again? This is my housewarming party and I don't want to receive any noise complaint as a housewarming gift. Now, tidy up. The pizzas' getting cold."

The four of them obeyed his command obediently, setting up the table for the awaited pizzas. Claire waltz her way towards the kitchen, just next to the dining table. "Hey! Who ate the last doughnut?"

Chris's face drained to a pale shade of gray. Discreetly, he backed out of the room, tip-toeing stealthily. Fist clenched as Claire raged. "CHRIS!"

[always5hineee]

Profit Margin- Chapter 3: Charge

Chapter warnings: Mild language

Word count: 1537  

Full chapter list can be found on the Profit Margin tab on my page.

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       Once they were sure she wasn't planning on acting up, Hendery personally grabbed her wrist to escort her to the car. Even if she wanted to escape, he had an iron grip, and the men to back him. She hadn't been able to see who else was with him, as they had waited until she was in front to follow, but she could only assume that it was Xiaojun and YangYang as her captor had previously stated.        

       They led her up several flights of concrete stairs, exposing her to more and more light. Once she was finally at the top, she found that they were indeed still inside the arena. The only lights still on were the emergency lights. He led her through one of the audience entrances to the ground floor, bringing her to a spot that she hadn't been too long ago. Passing it, they went through a door near the bottom of the stage into the back area, clearly where the dressing rooms had been.

       Shuddering, she looked at it all, passing by to get to the back door. She would have given anything to be here mere hours ago, and now she was scared out of her mind.

       "Save it," Hendery teased as he felt her shake. "You haven't seen anything yet." Now what was that supposed to mean? It was already messing with her head that these were her idols, the people she had looked up too. Not only that, but she had been so tired after the show that it was weighing on her. Wait, tired... That's it, she must have fallen asleep in the bathroom and started dreaming, or hallucinating, or something. She just had to snap out of it. Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of her as she was shoved towards a door.

       She hadn't realized it as she was so deep in thought, but they had made it to a sketchy-looking black car. Pushing her towards the opening, Hendery began speaking again.

       "Get in, Xiaojun will sit on the other side. You stay in the middle." She didn't move. "What's the problem."

       "I..."

       "I, what, honey? Speak up."

       "I don't want to." This caused all three of them to laugh.

       "Hear that? She doesn't want to." The third man snickered as Hendery tightened his grip on her wrist.

       "Tough luck, sweetheart." He said, picking her up by the hip and practically throwing her into the car. As he slammed the door behind her, she heard him say in a muffled tone, "I will say, this is much more fun with just one." Looking around frantically, she tried to get a bearing on her surroundings. The entire inside of the car was black as well. There was a man sitting in the driver's seat who seemed older, wearing a black suit and shades. He was clearly just an employee of the band.

       She heard the doors open on either side of her, causing her to yelp.

       "None of that." The man to her left said as he got in. "If you start screaming, we'll have to gag you again." Looking over with a snap of her head, she realized that it was indeed YangYang. Although his expression was tired and his clothes were grungy, it was undoubtedly him. In a similar fashion, she looked over the man to her right- Xiaojun. He nodded in greeting.

       "Hey." Hey? Fucking hey?! This was insane! What was happening? She couldn't exactly use anything she had planned to say should she have met any of these people. Hey! Nice to meet you, I'm a big fan. Thanks for kidnapping me! Not exactly the most optimal of conversations. YangYang hit the back of the driver's seat, saying,

       "We're good to go, follow the bus." As they pulled out, she realized they were in a small parking deck, the white and yellow lights glaring on the windshield. It was clearly nighttime, which made sense giving the time of the concert. Still, she didn't know how long she had been out, nor what time it was. They pulled out onto a dark street, a familiar sight from when she arrived.

       "Don't bother." Xiaojun said, noticing as she tried to remember where they were headed. "It's gonna be a long ride." The second she stopped trying to figure out escape routes, she slouched back into her seat, defeated. She was going wherever they ere taking her, now. Would anyone notice? Or give a shit? Would they look for her?

       She was growing tired very quickly. She wasn't sure what the effects of the drugs she had been given were, but sleep certainly wasn't one of them. She felt like she had been awake for a millennia. Her eyelids dropped like weights as the car began moving. She couldn't fall asleep- she had to remember. On the off chance that she was able to escape, she could maybe follow some memorable landmarks. They were leaving from a familiar city, after all.

       She wasn't given the choice. It was mere minutes before she fell asleep. Her dreams were turbulent, but surprisingly she didn't see a single face of the band within them. She later figured that it was a subconscious sort of stress. She saw flashing lights and felt shaking all around her. Suddenly, she felt very hot, like her blood was boiling, the steam trying to escape from beneath her skin. She opened her mouth to scream, but instead it felt as though thousands of diamonds were pouring out of her throat.

       Awaking in a cold sweat, she felt a hand on her shoulder as she jumped. Looking to the source, she noticed that it was Xiaojun attempting to wake her, abruptly pulling her from her hellish nightmare.

       "Sorry to startle you. We've arrived." Arrived... arrived where?

       "Come on, we don't have all day." YangYang prompted, getting out. The driver was nowhere to be found. Had he left the car while she was still asleep? If so, he must be quick- or she was slow. The man shut the door behind him, leaving the one who woke her to lead her out of the vehicle.

       They were in a surprisingly well lit area, ceiling coated in LED's. Still, the surroundings were still unsettlingly bare, made up of a slightly dirty concrete. It felt like some kind of warehouse considering the materials as well as the size, along with the big, rusted metal door she was being led to. She glanced around, trying to see if there were any clear exits.

       "Don't try it." Xiaojun muttered. How was he so good at telling what she was thinking? Well, whether it was a truth or a scare tactic, she was more than convinced enough to keep in line. His grip was strong, anyway, she doubted she could twist her way free, especially if h was expecting it.

       They walked through the door, into a tiled hallway. It was even chillier than the concrete parking area, but the lighting was just as harsh to her eyes. They made more turns than she could count, winding down hallways and through big doors, passing smaller ones on her left and right. She could have even swore they traversed the same hallways multiple times. Were they trying to disorient her?

       Finally, they came to the end of a hallway with an average sized, dirty black door. While it seemed similar to many of the ones around her, it felt different... This was where they were headed.

       "Did you make sure he knows we're here?" Xiaojun asked, clearly not speaking to her.

       "Yeah, and Hendery probably doubled up just in case. He's not out today, it should be fine." Knocking lightly, YangYang reached for the handle, swinging it open. What she saw inside was a surprisingly well-furnished room, much like a conference room at an office building. There was a large, dark, wooden table in the center, surrounded by a variety of mismatched office chairs. At the head of the table, a man sat with stacks of papers strewn out in front of him, clearly overlooking them with quite a bit of focus.

       "Kun. Here's the girl." The man looked up, and Y/N could see that it was indeed the band leader. His face was not nearly as young as it looked on stage. As far as she knew, he was in his mid twenties... so why did he look so... tired? Standing up, he walked to where they were stationed right inside the doorframe. Looking her over, he directed Xiaojun to turn her slightly in a few different directions.

       "What's her name?"

       "Y/N..." she responded quietly. Looking down, his stare was withering. She immediately shifted her gaze down to the floor in response.

       "I didn't ask you." Shit. "She has a mouth on her. Remind me why there's only one?"

       "Hendery got held up." YangYang cut in, knowing that Xiaojun would try and have the two of them take responsibility. "She's younger, though, not bad looking, she should be one of our higher sellers. We have plenty of shows left, as well."

       "Hm. I suppose." Kun said. "Alright, I'll speak with everyone about the plan. Send her to Lucas."

Go to Chapter 4