To Be Continued - Tumblr Posts

Black Gold(part 1)

"They call me Black Gold... Uh, well, she does at least... But you can call me Gold." Gold explains.

"Why do they call you that?" you ask.

"It's because of my skin and scales." the young merman pulls up his sleeve to reveal skin dark as midnight with patches of gold before gesturing to his tail that has the same missing patches of black scales with gold where they once laid. "Feel free to touch it. It's just some scars from when I was in the orphanage. Kids like me were happy until they started pulling at our limbs and fins. One time, a girl lost her face. She was so pretty too. Such a shame they did that to her... Anyways, her name was Angela. She was like a sister to me. And then they killed her before they continued to break her. And then there's Flash. He was like me. Bullied, hurt, and rescued." he pauses. "Hey Flash!" he shouts.

"Yeah!?" a hoarse voice shouts back.

"Come over here! There's a kid here!"

"Alright, alright. I'll be there in a second. Lemme first get a shirt on...

"Alright! He'll be here in a minute." Gold responds, smiling softly before reaching into the pool and pulling you up out of the water into the two's aquarium. You smile and hug him because he's just like your father before you two got separated.

(Flashback)

"Daddy? Where're we going?" You asked your father who was driving you to a surprise.

"You'll see when we get there." he responded, his accent showing. He was happy and excited... Your dad's accent only appeared when he was happy or excited. That day, he was both.

"Okie. I love you, dad."

"Love you too, sweetie."

"Are we there yet?" was a question you asked for five minutes.

"Yes!" he cheered, getting out of the car. You looked outside. You saw a large Victorian house. You also saw the dog and cat you nearly adopted three weeks earlier... He really was the best dad ever...

(End flashback)

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), are you okay?" Gold and Flash ask, concerned.

"Dad?" you ask, looking at Gold. Having visions like that makes your mind go for a loop.

"Did they just..." Flash asks, very concerned.

"I think they did..." Gold responds, shifting you to a more comfortable position. You nestle into him, a content smile on your face, almost asleep.

404: Lavander, No.

Lavander: LAVANDER, YES

404: I SAY NO!

THE BUNNY EVENT IS SO CUUUTE

Deuce talked about Ace, Grim and Yuu to his mom a lot and I’m just

“Hmm, yes, could you say more about that ma’am?” LIKE. HE GOT SO EMBARRASSED BY IT, the typical “Moooom!!” And it’s so cute OMG.

🥺🥺🥺the amount of thoughts i had when the bunny event came out in JP *HEAD IN HANDS*

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍-𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 [𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑] [𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏]

First Supernatural fic! A little short (in my standards), may conjure up another part if it goes well. This takes place just shortly after Sam gets his soul back and he's still coping.

SUMMARY: Y/N is a well renowned hunter who keeps to herself. After losing her sister (among many other family members) during a hunt to a devastating monster, she locks herself in for good with nothing but rage pumping through her veins.

It's rumored she holds a weapon that, besides the colt, can kill anything. It's become a big deal in the past, many hunters trying to take it for themselves, only to be cursed, injured or even dead in the process. That was until it was revealed who had given it to Y/N.

What will happen when she runs into the Winchester brothers during a hunt for the very thing that has destroyed her family?

Written in third person, female!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ

Very novel-esque writing. i'm sorry. i got carried away

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 4,390

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

The forest lay draped in an eternal shroud of darkness, the silvery glow of the moon casting faint, ghostly beams that struggled to penetrate the dense web of ancient trees. The atmosphere was thick with an otherworldly chill, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Tall, gnarled trunks rose like skeletal sentinels, their twisted branches clawing at the heavens in silent supplication.

Eerie whispers, like faint echoes from another realm, seemed to drift on the breeze. Soft susurrations carried the promise of secrets, secrets that the forest had guarded for centuries. These spectral utterances mingled with the rustle of leaves and the faint creaking of branches, creating a symphony of sound that was both mesmerizing and unsettling.

Amid this haunting tapestry of shadows and whispers, a lone figure moved with a desperate urgency. A slim young woman, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as her heart pounded in sync with the frantic rhythm of her footsteps. The ground beneath her seemed to tremble with her every stride, her bare feet sore from each scratch and scrape from twigs, rocks and leaves underneath, each footfall a desperate plea for escape.

The forest's inhabitants—creatures of the night and unseen beings—watched from their hidden sanctuaries, their eyes glinting with a luminescence. Yet, none could compare to the ominous presence that stalked the innocent woman.

In the ethereal twilight, illusions took shape like phantoms conjured from the darkest recesses of the mind. The voices of fellow hunters, once allies and friends, one even her own older sister, twisted and distorted into a chorus of accusation and betrayal. Their spectral forms advanced with a relentless determination, a parade of torment born from her own insecurities.

"Disgusting!"

"You're not strong enough! You don't belong with us!"

"You never did!"

"YOU ONLY HOLD US BACK!"

Countless insults and howls, hurls of venom and anger were thrown at the woman. As she sprinted through the labyrinthine woods, the cacophony of voices swirled around her like a tempest. The shadows themselves seemed to coil and writhe, mirroring her inner turmoil. But amidst the maelstrom of chaos, one face emerged from the torment—Y/N.

Y/N's expression was a mosaic of sorrow and anger, anger for all of this to be happening, anger for her sister as this creature manipulates her. Her eyes twin beacons of hope in the encroaching darkness. "Emily, Emily!" The voice behind her cried, far different from the others, "It's not real! Fight it!"

Emily turned around to face the direction of her sister's yells, her body jerking slightly with her movement as she catches a glimpse of Y/N, running with her arm reaching out to her. Quickly, she turned back, hopping over a large boulder she would have tripped over. Panic pumped through her veins, and her heart felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest.

Amid the twisted labyrinth of trees, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she closed in on her sister. Her footsteps were swift and quick as if she drifted through the air, each one a prayer to reach Emily in time, to pull her back from the precipice of the consuming darkness. Emily's breath came in ragged gasps, her panicked sobs echoing like haunting melodies of a woman in white through the shadows drenching the forest.

"Emily! Emily, it's me!" Y/N yelled once more, a lifeline of vague comfort in the midst of it all. Her arms stretched out, fingers yearning to grasp onto the fleeting fabrics of the younger woman's clothing. Emily's movements were wild and uncontrolled, her form swaying as if caught in a cruel dance with harsh winds.

Their eyes locked, and Y/N's heart shattered at the sight of the expression on the face of her other half. "Emily, please, look at me. You're not alone. I'm right here." Her voice trembled with a potent blend of fear and nausea, a plea for Emily to recognize how real she is and how fake everything else is.

Emily's cries were a symphony of agony, tears streaking her dirt-stained cheeks. "Y/N, make it stop! Make it stop, please!" Her voice cracked. She reached out with trembling hands, fingers brushing Y/N's arm as if seeking refuge from the torment that consumed her.

Y/N's heart bled as she closed the final distance, her arms enfolding Emily in an embrace. She could feel the violent tremors that wracked her sister's body, the very essence of her being gripped by a bitter chill. "I'm here, Emily. I won't let it take you," Y/N whispered fiercely, her lips brushing against Emily's sweat-dampened forehead.

Yet, even as Y/N held onto her sister, a sinister current coursed through the air. The shadows seemed to thicken, a malevolent presence looming ever closer. Emily's cries escalated into agonized screams, her body convulsing with the force of the darkness that sought to claim her. Y/N's heart raced, every fiber of her being consumed by a profound and paralyzing fear.

As Emily's eyes met Y/N's, a chilling realization dawned – the vibrant blue that had once sparkled with life was fading, eclipsed by an encroaching grayness that spread like tendrils of frost. Y/N's grip tightened, her own voice trembling with a mix of desperation and sorrow. "Emily, fight it! Hold on!"

Emily's voice wavered, words barely audible through the guttural moans that tore from her lips. "It's so cold, Y/N. Everything's so cold...so dark. Make it stop, please..." Her voice trailed off into a pained whimper, the shadows swallowing her words and leaving only the haunting echo of her suffering.

Y/N's fingers brushed against Emily's clammy skin, the chill of the shadows seeping into her very soul. With every ounce of strength she possessed, Y/N fought against the consuming void, her voice a soothing murmur. "I won't let it take you, dammit!" Anger boiled inside, "Get the hell off of her!"

Just as the darkness threatened to claim Emily completely, a distant rustling broke through the sound of struggle. Y/N's heart leaped as figures emerged from the shadows—the real, other hunters, their expressions etched with concern. They had followed Y/N's trail of yells and cries, arriving in the nick of time.

Y/N's voice trembled, a mild wave of relief as she sees the others. "Help her! We need to help her!" The hunters rushed forward, their hands reaching out to lend their strength. Together, they formed a shield against the darkness, a defiant stance against the malevolent force that sought to tear Emily from their grasp.

Emily's cries and convulsions intensified, her body wracked by spasms as the battle raged within her. Her hair was etched in a misty black, while her clothing was oozing with the same. Y/N's heart ached as she held onto her sister, her voice a fervent plea as she looked to the heavens. "Please, don't let her go! Not like this!" She sobbed. She held Emily tight, rocking her back and forth. She had lost so much, most of her family was already dead or turned. She'd barely consider other hunters as anything more than allies. She was terrified of becoming too attached.

And this is exactly why.

Silence. No movement, no cries, she didn't even breathe. Emily's petite figure went cold and limp in her big sister's arms, a shriek tearing through the cold air.

"EMILY!"

The veil of unconsciousness lifted, tearing Y/N from the depths of sleep into a realm of disorienting wakefulness. In an instant, her senses snapped to attention, an electric surge of panic and anxiety coursing through her veins. With a sudden jolt, she sat up, her chest heaving as if she had finished running a marathon. The room around her was shrouded in sunlight pooling in through the old vintage curtains.

A strangled cry forced itself through her lips, a raw and primal sound that echoed through the empty walls. It was a cry born of a terror she couldn't quite grasp. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the blankets below her hands, huffing.

Heartbeats drummed in her ears, a relentless rhythm that matched the frantic pace of her thoughts. The sweat-soaked tendrils of her hair clung to her forehead. She drew in ragged breaths, each inhalation a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between the dream and the waking world.

Tears blurred her vision, the remnants of her subconscious torment mingling with the harsh reality of her surroundings. It took precious moments for the room to come into focus, the familiar contours of furniture and shadows coalescing into a semblance of order. Yet, even as the nightmare's grip loosened, a residual ache settled deep within her chest.

"Emily..." The word escaped her lips in a choked whisper, a tremor of grief lacing her voice. The name hung heavy in the air, a fragile thread connecting the terror of her dreams to the ache of her waking heart. She clung to the sheets as if they were a lifeline, her fingers curling into fists against the overwhelming flood of emotions.

With a final sigh, Y/N hunched over with her head down. Her eyes shut, a tear falling into her lap, the drop being absorbed by the thick comforter snug tight over her legs. 

Mornings were never easy for Y/N. Each new day dawned as a reminder of the relentless challenges she faced, a testament to her resilience in the face of an unforgiving life. Even on her days off, a lingering unease nestled itself within the corners of her mind, stuck unto the wonders of impending danger. The cocoon of security she had woven around herself provided a shield, but it could never quite dispel the remaining possibility of danger.

She went about her normal daily routine. Eat, bathe, study—it was a day-today cycle she'd repeat without fail. The steady rhythm of these activities became her anchor, a lifeline that kept her tethered to a semblance of normalcy she lacked during her teen hood.

The simple act of nourishing herself felt like a small victory. The warm water during her shower offered a brief reprieve, a blanket of warmth throughout her entire figure. It was possibly the only place she could ever truly let her guard down—ignoring the many knives and handguns tucked away in every corner and crevice. And when she immersed herself in her studies of the unknown, her mind was at ease, eager to learn more like an intelligent child at their elite school.

She'd decided to take a bath that morning. The sound of the faucet turning on was a familiar symphony, the rushing of water a comforting melody that eased her eardrums. The room soon filled with the gentle hiss and gurgle of water as it flowed, a lullaby of sorts to her senses.

As steam gradually wafted through the air, tendrils of warmth caressed her skin. With each passing second, the room transformed into a retreat, the steam swirling like ethereal wisps that danced in the air. She undressed with a easeful grace, each garment slipping off her body and pooling onto the floor in a crumpled heap. The clothing, once a shield against the world's harshness, now lay forgotten as Y/N stepped out of its confines. The act of disrobing was more than a physical shedding; it was a ritualistic release, a shedding of layers that went beyond mere fabric. Each piece of clothing fell away, like a separate piece of heavy armor.

With a swift step, Y/N stepped into the tub. The warm water greeted her like an old friend, pooling around her calves. A sigh escaped her lips as she settled into the depths, the water rising to envelop her in its comforting embrace. Her mind was clouded with bliss, the weight of the stress not yet touching her core.

The water cocooned her body, its warmth seeping into her very bones as she closed her eyes. With each breath, she felt herself surrendering to the serenity of the moment, the rhythmic ebb and flow of her surroundings lulling her into a state of an addictive detachment.

The world beyond the bathroom door seemed distant, the sounds of the day muffled by the sanctuary she had created.

With ease, her fingers trailed along her arms, the soft glide of her touch a soothing ritual that whispered of self-care. The steam-kissed air enveloped her, carrying with it the subtle scent of her favorite from the bath salts that had dissolved into the water. As she reclined against the porcelain expanse, her muscles gradually surrendered their tension, each fiber yielding to the tender persuasion of the tranquil waters.

Slowly, Y/N's legs found themselves lifting, her knees bending as she settled into the contours of the tub. Her feet, once grounded on the porcelain floor, now found their resting place on the opposite end. The gentle swish of water accompanied her movements, a loving chorus that serenaded her senses.

Closing her eyes once more, Y/N let her head rest against the cool edge of the tub, a small sigh escaping her lips. Her mind now ebbed and flowed like the gentle ripples that lapped against her skin. The warmth enveloped her limbs, cradling each contour similar to her mother cradling her very essence in her tender hold from when she was a young child.

Her fingers dipped below the surface, the gentle tug of water playing a delicate dance with her touch. She traced the outlines of her own hands, the pathways of her palms etching stories of resilience and strength from each hunt, each death and heartbreak. The subtle currents tugged at her fingers, a gentle reminder that life was ever-present, a force that moved in rhythm with her own heartbeat.

Minutes slipped through her grasp like grains of sand, a fluid passage of time that seemed to stretch and contract with each breath. Y/N allowed herself to linger in the embrace of the bath, the world beyond the bathroom door fading into the periphery as the symphony of her senses took center stage.

As the soft glow of midday sunlight danced through the window, casting a warm embrace upon the room, Y/N's attention gravitated towards the sprawling tome that lay open before her. However, the once discerning gaze of the seasoned hunter seemed to drift, lost in the labyrinth of printed words that now merged into an abstract mosaic, their essence slipping through the sieve of her distracted thoughts. Within the confines of her mind, conflicting currents clashed - the steadfast determination that usually defined her, and an unsettling undercurrent of restless uncertainty.

Amidst the encroaching mental haze, a sharp ring pierced the air, jolting Y/N from her reverie. Swift and purposeful, she retrieved the phone and pressed it to her ear, her voice shaking from the startling event. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end carried an air of authority, a trusted hunter's tone that brooked no pleasantries. "Y/N," the voice began, a solemn cadence that bore the weight of urgency. "Got a case for you."

Y/N's eyes remained fixed on the open book, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the pages, a rhythmic dance of distraction. "Mirian," she acknowledged, a blend of reverence and intrigue imbued in her tone. The name held weight, signifying that when the hunter spoke, it was time to heed.

"There've been incidents," the hunter continued, unfolding a tale of unsettling attacks that painted a somber tableau. "Looks like the Chimera's up to its old tricks again."

A shiver coursed through Y/N's spine, a subtle reaction that betrayed the gravity of the name. Memories of past encounters surged forth like specters, a haunting tapestry of battles fought and won against this formidable adversary. Especially Emily's death. Mirian’s words wove a narrative of danger and enigma, a reminder of the stakes at play.

Her responses remained poised, a veneer of calm that masked the storm beneath. "I understand," she murmured, her gaze breaking free from the book to meet the world outside the window. "And where did everything taken place?"

Location after location was recited by the older hunter, each name etching a somber mark on the canvas of Y/N's consciousness. She absorbed the information with a hunter's precision, each detail a clue to decipher, a thread to weave into a strategy. As the conversation progressed, an immediate plan unfurled in her mind, a mosaic of tactics and resolve that began to map out her forthcoming endeavors.

"Understood," Y/N finally affirmed, her voice a testament to her unwavering commitment to the task ahead. "I'll take it from here."

The unknown hunter's approval resonated through the line, a nod of satisfaction that lingered in the air. "Good. Other hunters are staying away from this one. Leaving it to you. Be vigilant, Y/N. Take it down for good."

The call ended, leaving Y/N alone with her ruminations once more. Her gaze returned to the open book, yet now, the printed words seemed to regain their clarity, each letter a beacon guiding her purpose. With a heavy sigh, Y/N shut the book, standing herself tall. Her gaze settled on the ancient leather-bound tome, its pages brimming with secrets of old, a knowledge bank she had accumulated over the years. With a decisive nod, she turned away, her steps carrying her towards the intricately carved wooden desk where her arsenal awaited.

Quickly, Y/N began to gather her essentials. She retrieved a leather-bound notebook, its pages filled with meticulous notes and diagrams of past encounters. A sense of reverence accompanied each turn of the pages, a reminder of the blood swear and tears put into every hunt. Beside it lay an assortment of vials, each containing concoctions brewed from rare ingredients, tailored to counteract the unique attributes of queer entities.

Her attention shifted to the polished surface of the desk, where an array of weapons gleamed in the subdued light. Her fingers brushed against the hilt of a knife, its blade etched with protective runes to enhance its efficacy. A revolver lay nearby, silver bullets meticulously loaded.

Yet, the centerpiece of her arsenal rested against the desk's corner—a sickle of exquisite craftsmanship. The black handle was adorned with intricate patterns and symbols, a labyrinth of gold engravings that seemed to dance in the faint light. The handle fit perfectly in her hand, a natural extension of her unequaled wrath. The blade itself gleamed wickedly, a crescent moon of lethal sharpness. Its edge bore the scars of countless battles, slick and sharp—a gift from Death himself.

As Y/N lifted the sickle, a surge of familiarity coursed through her veins. This weapon was an extension of her identity, a manifestation of the strength and purpose that had driven her. Its weight was comforting, grounding her in the face of vengeful intent.

With her arsenal gathered, Y/N slung the duffel over her shoulder and made her way to the doorway. As her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the doorknob, her gaze flickered to a small weapon hanging by the frame. It was a talismanic blade, a last resort concealed within easy reach. The hilt bore sigils of protection, a final safeguard against unexpected threats.

The weight of the sickle at her side was a reminder of her internal hatred, a beacon of hope to finally destroy this Chimera once and for all. Y/N stepped out, shutting the door behind her.

Bobby's house exuded a sense of warmth and home, its well-worn interior serving as a refuge for the trio of hunters seeking respite from the world outside. The worn leather armchairs bore the marks of countless conversations and the shelves lining the walls were crammed with dusty books, relics of knowledge accumulated over decades of hunting. The air was tinged with the aroma of brewing coffee, a constant companion in the dimly lit haven.

Bobby sat hunched over his desk, his calloused fingers deftly dialing a number on his phone. The room seemed to hold its breath as the line connected, and he brought the receiver to his ear. His gruff voice echoed through the room as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

"Hey there, it's Bobby Singer. Listen, I've been hearin' about some strange happenings over in Pinehaven. Yeah, it's that little town off County Road 9. There've been a series of deaths – odd ones. People droppin' dead with no explanation, like they just gave up the ghost." Bobby's brows furrowed as he listened to the voice on the other end, his expression growing increasingly grim.

Sam and Dean Winchester exchanged wary glances, their senses heightened by the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the room. They leaned in, their attention fully captivated by Bobby's conversation.

"You don't say... Well, that sounds like a real mess. Yeah, it's been goin' on for a few weeks now. The victims – they're different ages, different backgrounds. Ain't nothin' connectin' 'em on the surface. And here's the kicker – their bodies are all found with these... bizarre markings carved into 'em. Like some sort of symbol."

Bobby's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and intrigue as he listened to the voice on the other end. "Yeah, I know it sounds like some pagan ritual, but that's where it gets even weirder. There's nothin' in any lore I've come across that matches these symbols. It's like some new kind of nasty is in town."

Sam leaned forward, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "So, what's our next move, Bobby?"

Bobby glanced at Sam and Dean before turning his attention back to the call, hanging up. "Look, I've tried gettin' some hunters interested in checkin' it out, but they're all keepin' their distance. Say it's too risky. Hell, even Garth – and you know he's usually up for a wild goose chase – turned it down."

Dean chuckled under his breath. "Well, Garth's got a point. But if it's got you scratching your head, Bobby, it's definitely worth a look."

Bobby nodded in agreement, a determined glint in his eyes. "Damn right, it is. I've got a bad feelin' about this one. We'll head over to Pinehaven, check out the crime scenes, see if we can find any leads."

Sam and Dean exchanged a nod. "You think it could be witches?" Sam asks.

Bobby scratched his scruffy beard in thought, his expression contemplative. "Could be, given the nature of the attacks and the symbols that've been showin' up around town. But we won't jump to conclusions just yet. Gotta gather more information before we start pointin' fingers."

Dean's lips curled into a half-smile, "Well, you know us, Bobby. We're always up for a good ol' witch hunt."

Bobby chuckled, a gruff sound that held a warm combination of amusement and fondness. "Just make sure you don't stir up trouble before you've got solid evidence. Last thing we need is a town full of pitchfork-wielding locals."

Sam nodded in agreement. "We'll be careful, Bobby. Promise."

With a satisfied nod, Bobby clasped his hands together. "Good. Now, gather your gear and hit the road. I'll keep diggin' on my end, see if I can find any lore or references that might give us a clue."

Dean couldn't help but interject with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Bobby, remember that time in Oklahoma when you tried to use a hex bag and ended up with green hair?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he shot a pointed glare at Dean. "Oh, don't you start with that again, boy. You two idjits were laughin' your heads off, like a couple of hyenas."

Sam smirked, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Come on, Bobby, you gotta admit, you rocked that look."

Bobby let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "Just make sure you boys pack some extra salt. We're dealin' with somethin' that's givin' hunters the heebie-jeebies."

With a shared glance, the two stood, their resolve strengthened. As they gathered their gear and headed for the door, Bobby's voice carried after them, a stern warning. "And no more hex bags, you hear me?"

The echoes of their laughter lingered in the air as they shut the door. As Sam and Dean made their way toward the sleek black Impala, the gravel crunching under their boots, Sam couldn't help but break the silence.

"You really think this case is the real deal? Witches? Haven't seen any Pagan witches lately."

Dean slid his hands into his jacket pockets, casting a sidelong glance at his brother. "Bobby seems to think so. And you know how he is with research."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, you're right."

Dean's expression turned more serious as he locked eyes with his brother. "Just gotta stay sharp, Sammy. If this thing's as nasty as Bobby says, we need to be on our A-game."

Sam's gaze held a mixture of determination and concern. "I know, Dean. But something just doesn't feel right. If a bunch of hunters won't go near that thing, it can't be a witch. They woulda already tackled it by now."

Dean's jaw tightened, his gaze distant for a moment before he met Sam's eyes again. "Yeah, I noticed that too. It's like everyone's walking on eggshells. We'll keep digging. But first, let's focus on finding out what's behind all these deaths and disappearances."

As they slid into the Impala's front seats, the engine roared to life with a familiar rumble. The brothers shared a determined glance before Dean put the car in gear.

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Warnings: Uhhh. Non-graphical smut and slight angst, but that's pretty much it for now since I'm still crafting the next part, and some curse words lmao.

I won't control you, but MDNI. This is not for you, please.

Pairings: OT7/(F) Reader

Plot: Seven dates that has a significant mark in your life, one of which massively tilted and fucked up your world for good.

Seven men you didn't want to have more significance in your life than they already have for each of those dates you desperately want to forget.

Genre: mutual pining (ik, ik, i'm sorry), light angst, denial of feelings, eventual poly ot7

placeholder: avoust xxix - óutobre xxxi - nouvèmbre xv - desèmbre xxvi - febrié xxiii - mai xiii - juliet xxii

this is not my first dabble at the bts fandom but this was my first bangtan fic i posted in ao3 2 years ago bc i was a baby army (and my first bangtan creation [not the mixtape series] one is still unfinished and unposted wkwkwkw) so pls be kind to me uwu n i don't really have army moots so if you wanna, come say hi to me on twitter @shimaeara (i don't use it for now because i have no moots there yet) this fic is fucking self-serve and was written without sleep and came to me after reading a fucking drarry slowburn and binge listening to Moonchild and continued after weeks(months) of procrastination and am not good at smut so i might not be able to write it graphically for now idk sorry (edit, 2023: I can write smut now lmao but im still not good at it so i'll try!!!!) artists mentioned are not mine and own themselves. only my original character is self-made, and portrayal and descriptions are in no way real and did not happen in life. everything is entirely fictional not beta'd so i take full responsibility for each and every mistake, my existence included.

i'm reposting this right now because of the date in my country (and a happy birthday to my irl bestfriend, allain. hope you're happy wherever you are, fucker

aight imma head out

💜 You're not aware of the date today.

You wake up unusually early. It's ironic—everything today seems to be, and it's only six in the morning. That in itself should've clued you in because never in a million years would you wake up at five fucking thirty ahead of your alarm, and a weekend at that.

No one dare wake you up voluntarily before seven safest, not after that incident with an overly-hyper Joji that resulted in him sporting a black eye and split lip for a week. No hard feelings were had; you've been bestfriends with him during the past few years since he became your client at the villa. It was resolved with a quick fuck before you even got out of bed. Everybody pretended that the scratches on his back were—ahem—inflicted during the fight.

Pft. Sure.

He has since left residence, but he still flounces around whenever his schedule allows, the motherfucker. You should remind him to bring his own food next time because he cleansweeps the fridge every time.

Your mood has been off since you opened your eyes. You lie there for a few minutes before you realize that it's still kind of dark outside, and a quick check of your phone informs you of the time.

5:36 am

Huh. That's fucking early.

You rub at your chest softly, wondering where the hollow sinking feeling is coming from and what roused you from your sleep. Granted that yes, you're not the most mentally healthy person, but the feeling is different from usual. Almost worse.

You try to go back to sleep but right as you were about to drift off, your bladder decides to kick in. Groaning, you roll out of bed and pad sleepily to your bathroom to do your business with closed eyes, trying not to let go of your sleepiness. Of course, that proves futile. You aren't able to fall right back to sleep after that. Normally, you'd have no problem jumping right back to snoozing, but again, irony.

When trying prove to be useless, you decide to get up. On the way down, you forget to take your phone with you, and you ain't going back to sixth ass floor when you're already on the second. You continue onward and bump into Shads. "Morning, Matt."

He looks at you in trepidation, and you laugh lightly at his expression. Nobody dare forget that you're not a morning person. "Hey, Y/N."

"Relax, I'm not gonna punch you." He laughs at that and visibly relaxes.

"You're up early," he comments.

"Yeah. I don't even know why, and I can't go back to sleep now anyways so..."

He nods. "Well, I'm just turning in. Need to catch some sleep before we fly later."

"Fun night?" You ask.

He snorts at that with a laugh as he turns away to walk to his room. "Wish. Had to be at the studio to fix some things."

"Aw, you poor baby."

"Fuck off."

You both laugh and walk away; him towards his room, and you towards the kitchen. "Sleep well. I'll make sure the car will be here later for you guys."

"Thanks, babe."

You feel it again while you are making myself a cup of hot chocolate at the communal kitchen. You have a love-hate relationship with coffee, so you don't drink it that much. You thump your chest lightly with a slight grimace, the feeling almost crushing now. Your heart is racing and you don't know why, hands shaking as you grip the counter and try to breathe through your mouth.

"Y/N?"

You look up to see Jin in his pajamas, blinking at you owlishly. "Hey, Jin." Your grimace morphs into an awkward smile and you put your arms to your side in fear that he might've seen it—he did.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you say, ignoring the heavy pounding feeling in your chest. He doesn't look convinced. "You're up early."

He shakes his head. "This is my usual waking time. You're early."

Well, you don't have a rebut for that.

"Are you sure you're okay, Y/N?" he asks again when you stay silent.

"Yeah." You will yourself to calm down, even though it's obviously unsuccessful. "I think I'm just having a heartburn."

He raises an eyebrow at that, clearly not buying your lie. He decides to spare you instead. "You shouldn't be having hot chocolate then; that will just trigger it more. Sit. I'll make us some tea."

"No, no, it's okay! I'm fine." You try to argue, but you quickly shut up when he narrows his eyes at you. You wait in awkward silence as he prepares the tea and starts making breakfast, possibly for his friends. Once it was done, you thank him and turn to go back to your room.

"Where are you going?" he asks, spatula raised from where he is cooking.

"Back to my room?"

He shakes his head. "No, you sit. I'm making breakfast anyway."

"But I—"

"Are you really this stubborn?" When you remain silent, he hums and goes back to cooking "That's what I thought. Now sit down."

And what choice do you have?

"Do you take any medicines?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.

"...no?"

"Not even for anxiety? Or anything?"

Wow. What happened to sparing you? You shake your head no. He just raises his brows at that and (mercifully) changes the topic. "What are you doing today?"

"Nothing. It's my first break in months, so I think I might just sleep all day and stay in bed. I don't know." You shrug. "How 'bout you guys? Do you have promotions today?"

He shakes his head. "Nah. We're all preparing for Jungkook's birthday. It's in three days."

Wait. Jungkook's birthday is September 1.

You stop at that, the cup of tea paused from where you were just about to take a drink. "T-three days?" You ask shakily as he puts some food on a plate and places it down in front of you, unaware of your inner turmoil. The food smells amazing, but you don't think you can handle eating right now.

"Yeah. It's 29 today, isn't it?" Jin takes his phone that was on the counter and checks, then puts the phone back down. "It is. We're gonna prepare a surprise for him."

Fuck.

"That's good," you say, trying not to show how your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. He smiles at you and turns back to where he's cooking.

So that's why you've been feeling off since you woke up. 29th. It's the 29th of August today.

You finish your food with difficulty but you don't show it to him to not be ungrateful. His cooking is great, but your mind is really just elsewhere today. "Thanks for the breakfast. And uh, the tea." You clear your throat as you finish washing your plate.

"No biggie." He smiles brightly and you almost forget—almost.

"Have fun today with your plans. I'll be"—you swallow as you leave the room almost hurriedly, and Jin finally notices your distress—"I'll be in my room if you guys need something from me."

You hear him ask if you were really okay but you ignore it, almost tripping on your way out. You don't know you've been holding your breath until you let it out as you reach your room and flop uselessly on your bed. You can't even cry at this rate. You've spent so long crying that it left you tearless and empty. When you try to look deeper, the pain is crippling that you can't even move to shed a tear. It feels like being suspended mid-air in a dark void with that feeling that you might fall anytime, only you don't know when and if the fall will finally kill you.

You spend the whole day in bed with minimal to no human interaction. Matt swung by midday and thanked you with a hug before the band left. It will be hours later when someone knocks on your door again.

It's Namjoon.

"Y/N?"

You're tempted to not answer him. While yes, your closeness with him and his group came a long way from just them being your clients, you still don't feel comfortable with giving them the burden of trying to deal with your tragedies and discomfort. He calls your name again with a light knock before you amble to the door weakly, opening it just an inch. "Hey."

You smile at him, but it's clear as day that you aren't really feeling it. "Hey, Namjoon."

"Are you okay?" He pauses, then shakes his head. "No, you're obviously not. Can I come in?"

And of course, he can.

One thing you like about him is his maturity and perceptiveness. With the chaos that comes with his group, Namjoon keeps them tethered. You love their group, you really do. But when the energy becomes too much, you're thankful because he always senses your need to slow down and calms them. Maybe it's the same reason you're drawn to him the most out of all of them. All you know is it isn't just a plain crush on such a charming person anymore. When you spend a lot of time with someone so kind and wonderful, their looks become just a fucking bonus. Every time you look at him your heart won't stop racing, and it's the exhilarating type that makes you sweat and puts the coil in your stomach.

You both sit on the bed, pulling up the covers as he sits a respectable distance from you.

"Hyung told me what happened," he says at last. Your stomach drops at that. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Do you want to?

With your silence, he continues. "I understand if you don't want to. Just know that we're here for you." Then softly, "I'm here for you."

Your heart stutters, but you keep your face neutral by giving him a soft smile. "Thank you, Namjoon."

After a few minutes, he asks, "Is it because of Jungkook?"

"What?"

"Jin-hyung said you ran away when he mentioned our surprise for Jungkook." There is an emotion you can't name that briefly flits through his face before it smooths out to curiosity. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"No!" At his surprised face, you backtrack. "No," you say in a much softer voice. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I—"

"Noona!"

Wow. Speak of the devil and all that jazz.

Jungkook bursts through the door, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the room. Or if he does, he doesn't comment on it. "My favorite Noona~!" He climbs on the bed and sits beside you.

Your eyes flit to Namjoon, and you nearly miss the sharp look he gives him when Jungkook lies with his head on your lap. You snort at Jungkook's antics, a slow smile spreading to your lips.

"I bet you say that to all your noonas," you tease, to which Jungkook splutters.

"No, I don't!" He turns to Namjoon. "Tell her, hyung."

"I—what?"

"That she is my favorite noona!"

"You do say that to all your noonas, Kook." Namjoon deadpans.

"Hyung!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Namjoon laughs. "Everyone knows you love Y/N the most."

"Yeah! Don't be jealous though, hyung." Jungkook chides, a crimson blush slowly spreading over Namjoon's cheeks. "We all know you love her the most."

"Hey—!"

"By the way," Jungkook back turns to you and ignores Namjoon's protesting, "we're all going out later. Want to come with?"

"Uh," you awkwardly scratch the back of your head. "I don't know, Jungkook. I—"

"Please?" He pulls his infamous doe eyes that makes it hard to refuse. While you normally don't have an issue with going out, you're not feeling up for it today. Especially not today of all days.

Your mind drifts to your old friends.

It's been seven years since they'd all been gone, but the memory is still fresh. For the past few years, you'd celebrated this day—all their birthdays—cradling a bottle of whatever liquor you get your hands on. You'd plow through bottle after bottle, glass after glass, trying to forget that you would have been celebrating with them had that day not happened. Then, you'd come home and sob yourself to sleep and pass out from being drunk because them being gone meant your alcohol tolerance was suddenly gone too.

"Y/N?" You snap out of your trance and see both men looking at you in confusion. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." The hollow feeling intensifies and you feel a little nauseous, but you shake it off. "Sorry, what was that again?"

"Do you want to come with us later?" Jungkook's mood subdues at your lost expression, concern marring his pretty face. "But you can say no if you don't want to!"

You know they really wouldn't force you to come with them if you say no. They never once made you feel like you have no choice with the shenanigans they drag you into.

Then you think about what Alex would probably say if he's still here, what all of them would say. They'd kick your ass for stopping yourself from celebrating and getting wasted. They'd tell you that you need to try to forget even just for a day, and that drinking a whole ass bar is one way to do it. They would probably say some shit about honoring them by getting shitfaced.

"Okay," you say weakly.

The two men looks at you apprehensively.

"Are you sure, Y/N? We really wouldn't mind."

You nod. "It's fine. I'm sure it'll be fun."

"It will be!" Jungkook says excitedly. "I'll make sure it is."

And make sure, he does.

Eight pm rolls around and you're ready to head out with them. You don't want to risk them being seen with someone who'll just drag their image down so as much as it pains you, you actually do put effort in dressing up and looking presentable. Normally, you would just wear the most comfortable outfit. You can't risk that tonight, however. You're going out with people who has all eyes on them. Being associated with someone who looks remotely like a trash can would do nothing good for their image, although you know they could care less about that.

"Noona, you read...y?" You turn around in time to see Jungkook's Adam's apple bob in his throat. His eyes rakes your figure and you can't help the slight flush in your cheeks when you meet his intense gaze.

"Am I overdressed?" You try to joke, but it feels weak. He shakes his head, cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

"You look wonderful, noona ." He mutters under his breath, "too wonderful."

"What?"

He ignores that, giving you a blinding smile. "Shall we go?"

You feel baffled by his actions, but nod at him nonetheless. "Lemme just put on my shoes." You turn around and miss his eyes go wide when you bend over to slip on your pumps. He subtly adjusts himself through his pants and tears his eyes away from your ass before you can catch him staring. "Let's go?"

"Y-yeah." He clears his throat. "Hyungs are all waiting downstairs."

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask. You walk over to him and put your hand on his forehead, unaware of his inner turmoil at the skin contact.

He catches your hand, and you gasp at his intense stare. A few seconds pass and he squeezes your hand before letting go.

"I'm okay." He then smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's go?"

--

You've already lost track of how many drinks you've consumed tonight. The corner of the bar was the perfect place and you made a beeline for it straight away once you spot it, unaware of Namjoon's eyes that were trained on you the whole time. You know you probably should've stuck with the others but you know your presence wouldn't be missed that much, so you stay put. You just left when you had enough turning down unwanted attention. Seriously, can't they all get a fucking hint?

"There you are!"

You startle as you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and Jungkook stands there with a dopey smile. You assume he's on the way to being drunk now, but you really can't tell. "Y/N! I've been looking for you everywhere."

Obviously not everywhere. "Sorry, Kookie. I was just at the bar."

His smile gets wider at the pet name. "Kookie?"

"Oh, I mean—"

"I like it." He takes your hand with a slight tug. "Come on, let's go find the others."

You let him lead you and weave through the throng of partygoers. You feel the warmth of his hand on yours and fixate on it. Too much, that you don't know where he's leading you until the sounds of music gets muffled and muted. There's a firm click and thud, and you're being pushed against the door. His lips are on yours before you can even comprehend what's happening.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that you're kissing back. Weakly at first, you try to push him off you until he takes the hint.

His lips detach from yours and he pulls away, breathing heavily. His profile is illuminated by the purple light of the room, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest from catching his breath.

"What are we doing?" You ask him, eyes wide.

"Nothing you won't consent to."

You look at each other wordlessly. He steps back a little from you and removes his hands on your hips. You realize that he's giving you an out if you want to, but that you really don't want him to give you an out.

The last part scares you.

"I won't force you to anything you don't want to," he says gravelly. "You can always say no."

"What if I don't want to?" You mumble. "Say no, that is."

He looks confused for a moment. When it dawns on him, however, his lips pull into a slow devilish smirk. Goosebumps follow his fingers on your skin.

"Then we do whatever you want."

It's all a blur after that.

His lips find yours again, hands seeking the curve of your hips. He trails kisses on your cheeks down to your neck and chest, and sucks bruises that make you gasp out loud as your hands tangle in his silky hair. They don't slack grip as you guide him down right where you want his mouth and hands.

He takes you twice; first is when he pounds you from behind. Your hair is fisted in his hands as he pulls on it, and your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He thrusts deeper when you moan loud. "Stay quiet, noona," the honorific sounding sinful from his lips. You keen when he grinds his hips and hit that wonderful spot.

The second is with your legs wrapped around his waist, arms on his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his cock inside you with every savage thrust, and it makes you forget what it is you're running from. Half-crescent scratches are etched on his shoulders as you grip him tightly when you come, his hips stuttering in rhythm as his own orgasm crashes through him when you tighten around him.

Once you both finally catch your breath, he puts you down gently and fixes the creases on your dress.

"I'm taking this home," he says and pockets your panties. You don't have it in you to protest. Instead, you settle on rolling your eyes at him with a placid smile.

"I think you fucked the sad out of me," you say as your breathing calms to normal. You run your fingers through his hair and he kisses your wrist. "Thank you, Kookie. Happy birthday."

He pulls you into a tender hug, pressing a kiss on your hair. "Love you, Y/N."

You don't respond, don't need to. You know he feels it with how you fix his appearance and ruffle his hair as you lead him out of the room, totally unaware of a set of eyes that follow you both on your way out.

N̷̗̄̔e̵̫͕̊w̸̞̗͑ ̵̥̚m̷̡̦̃̈ë̵̤r̵̗͠c̷̪̄͘h̴̘̻̒̽

The glitch hoodie is here! It is super soft and features art by @cyarindraws​

You can get it at Worldwide or USA stores!

amazingphilshop.com

peridead.mp4

sammy

younger self / child alter

most similar to sammi

soft and sensitive

but she can and will throw down

loves to read & write but hates school

good at lying and hiding her emotions

loves playing video games

carries a sketchbook everywhere

@babydollxcv 👶🏼

Part 2: 🌊💥Disaster strikes when an earthquake shakes the ocean floor, causing rock formations to crumble. Ren's family is in danger, with his sick little brother and dying father unable to escape. The community is in chaos, with no one stepping up to help. 😰

Renard the sea fox

Part 1: 🦊🎨

In a vibrant underwater world, Renard (or Ren for short), the sea fox, is born into a family of legendary artists. Despite having no limbs, he dreams of creating masterpieces. But his attempts to paint with his tail and teeth are met with laughter and mockery. Feeling defeated, Ren abandons his dreams, just like everyone abandoned him. 💔

Part 6: 🦾🐚As they swim through a narrow tunnel, a massive boulder shifts above them. Ren's quick thinking saves them, but the boulder blocks their path. Using his tail, Ren attempts to move the boulder, but it barely budges. Exhausted and frustrated, he wants to give up. 💔 #ObstaclesAbound

Part 7: Luminescent Coral Polyps 🌿💡 Just when all seems lost, Ren notices a peculiar coral formation pulsating with a soft, mesmerizing light. As he approaches, the coral polyps suddenly extend, creating a glowing pathway through the dark tunnel. The polyps sway gently in the current, as if beckoning Ren to follow their lead. Ren's mother, recognizing the coral's unusual behavior as a sign of hope, encourages him to trust in the guidance of the ocean. With renewed determination, Ren pushes forward, and the boulder slowly moves, revealing a hidden path. 💪 #GlimmerOfHope

Part 8: 🌋💥As they continue their journey, the group encounters a sudden underwater volcanic eruption. Scalding steam and ash fill the water, obscuring their vision. Ren, relying on his instincts, guides his family through the murky depths, narrowly escaping the burning debris. 😰 #NaturalDisaster

Renard the sea fox

Part 1: 🦊🎨

In a vibrant underwater world, Renard (or Ren for short), the sea fox, is born into a family of legendary artists. Despite having no limbs, he dreams of creating masterpieces. But his attempts to paint with his tail and teeth are met with laughter and mockery. Feeling defeated, Ren abandons his dreams, just like everyone abandoned him. 💔

Cobra Snake Necktie

“Are you an angel?”

He says it all woozy and completely deadpan, totally at ease - a natural flirt - like waking up in a hospital with a neck brace on and your motorcycle presumably totaled in some back alley was just another thing on a Tuesday’s schedule to tick off.

Who knows; maybe it was for this guy.

pairing: biker bucky x nurse!reader

summary: bucky barnes is a magnet for danger, bad karma, and pretty woman - not necessarily in that order. a motorcycle crash lands him in reader’s ER, and it looks like he might have just found himself a new game of high-stakes chase.

synopsis: part one of - hopefully - a new series, content warnings for minor medical procedures, i.e., injections and such. biker bucky is always a classic, and i wanted to write it, so i did.

cobra snake necktie masterlist / my masterlist

Keep reading

Daily draw #109

Kirby just wanted to have a good time and Ganon says no.

HIHIHI!*pats your head* I just here to tell you that you are amazing and your art and fics and talks never fail to cheer me up! Also, don't forget to take care of your self and love your self!*gives you milk and cookies* -hazi anon🌸

AAA HAIII! *accepts head pats* WHAHDKSHFJ THANK CHU HAZI ANON BEAN! 🌸✨🥺🥺🫶🏻💕

That’s very sweet and touching to know my silly art and fics makes people’s days and cheers you up. 🥲 Thank you for the reminder, I really did need that! *accepts milk & cookies* ( ^ω^ )🥛🍪

I apologize to all my moot beans for the absence lately, (especially with the boop booth) but there was something that needed my immediate attention and I’ve been mentally exhausted, overwhelmed, and overall crabby about it. Hence why I haven’t responded to asks or done any art lately, I just didn’t have the energy. (_ _)

Thankfully, it’s taken care of and I’m feeling much better and feeling more like myself. So have patience and don’t worry, jellybeans! The boop booth shall conclude tomorrow and I will get to people’s asks! ♡

Alarm Clock, chapter one

Perfection meets Perfectionist #3 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's Note: well, well, well. isn't it the purpose of this whole account. This is the beginning plot of the story in mind. Very dramatic. Little storyline events. Enjoy!

Chapter One

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The alarm clock tuned in for another long, painful try of annoyance. The dead weight hidden under the blanket and crinkled sheets groaned, hanging onto the dream they had as long as possible. It seemed that the alarm clock huffed a little at the sorry state of the bed. The bed, single sized, laid someone who should be getting up right about now. They have been late once already, which is something out of the ordinary for their auto-pilot life. And here they were, blocking out their alarm clock in a fetal position. Cradling their arms around their chest, protective walls bracing for impact of the cruel world. If the alarm clock had a mind of its own, it would be disappointed; but since it doesn't, their last attempt of waking the sleeping mess was changing the radio channel. There wasn't any particular reason why Etta liked the radio channel that the alarm clock was set in, 'it is better than having the chance of catching that one song playing'. Hallow and empty emotions echoed at the back of their mind, it was distant. Good. But obviously, they have forgotten that they have programmed the alarm clock into flipping through radio channels to annoy Etta into getting up.

Their song played.

"The way you text I rather dig my grave…" Etta, white as a ghost, sat upright in protest of their throbbing head. "..Because I never knew what was so cliche…" The sorrowful tune mockingly danced around their head as Etta tried to picture out their surroundings. "..About you blaming me for all the things I've done…" Eyes drawn immediately to the sudden bright light-- their phone went off the third time. 'It's probably February.' Etta groaned once more at the thought of going to work. "..Baby can't you see you're the reason why I can't breathe…" They knew they were late, and they knew that February wouldn't be pleased, either. But there is only so much you can worry about when your head is being split in two. "I love you! I love you!" Etta couldn't take anymore of that song.

Reaching out to their nightstand, they slammed their clenched fist hard on top of the pitiful alarm clock. As if the alarm clock knew it had the upper hand, it was stubborn and didn't break from the sheer force of its owner. "And my best friends are gonna cry, they don't understand what it's like…"

Etta swore slightly under their breath, half tempted in throwing the alarm clock out the window. 'Dropping from the window's height, the alarm clock could probably kill someone.' Etta rolled their eyes in the thought of getting done by using their alarm clock as a murdering weapon. "..To love someone so cold…" Etta dived down, "I think someone is caging me up again…" elbows rubbing hard onto the grey carpet, "..I wonder what phrase will trigger it…" their body positioned ready to do butterfly strokes.

"..Girl I'm sorry but I've got to go…" Desperate. Thirsty for water after days of neglect. Reaching out to the power plug like Etta's carpet was quick sand. As if the sunshine seeping through the curtains was a blazing fireball; threatening to burn them alive. "..This time I'll leave you without no note-" The alarm clock never saw it coming, how can a body of sadness move so swiftly?

'I win.'

Etta raised the power plug into the air, triumphed by their success. Warm and calming silence hugged Etta's ears, making Etta sigh out in relief and pure joy for a moment. It felt like freedom, for a long standing second.

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

To be continued...

So I had a fun ship idea of a peacock and a pigeon falling in love, so I thought I’d post the idea here to see if anyone enjoys it.

Pigeon x peacock first meeting. The pigeon is wandering the streets of New York when they see a large group of people gathering around a lost peacock. The peacock had escaped its enclosure at the local zoo, and is now also wandering the streets of New York. The peacock sees the pigeon through the crowd, and moves past the crowd to approach the pigeon. The peacock then puffs out its feathers, and the pigeon is incredibly confused especially when the crowd of people start freaking out. Soon the zoo worker come and get the peacock to bring it back to the zoo, but the peacock keeps escaping the zoo and finding its way back to the pigeon.

Here’s another peacock x pigeon idea because if I don’t keep posting about them no one can see it.

After the pigeon and the peacock meet the love story between the two starts to build a fan base as more and more people around New York realize how often these two birds spend time with each other. They've become a sort of tourist trap as many people walk through the streets of New York in hopes of seeing the love birds, and taking photos of them. This also helps the zoo employees find the peacock easily as it can't go more than 24 hours without being spotted, and filmed by people walking around. The peacock is painfully aware of its popularity while the pigeon is blissfully unaware that it's being shipped with the peacock. Their internet fame has gotten to the point the zoo has started to make marketable plushies of the the peacock and pigeon, along with other merch.

Here are some pigeon and peacock interactions.

Peacock: (gives pigeon flowers)

Pigeon: omg, I love flowers (proceeds to eat said flowers)

Pigeon: (has a crush on the peacock, but thinks the peacock is way out of their league)

Peacock: (thinks their dating)

Pigeon: (gives little trinkets to the peacock as gifts)

Peacock: (has at least one of the trinkets with them at all times)

Peacock: do you think we're soulmates in every universe?

Pigeon: what is a soulmate?

They are in fact soulmates in every universe

Pigeon: OMG! YOUR BLEEDING! WHATS YOUR TYPE?!

Peacock: oblivious pigeons who don't know when I'm flirting with them

Pigeon: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!

More on the world of the pigeon and the peacock.

Because the pigeon and peacock are practically celebrities due to everyone loving their love story, a lot of their fans leave offerings outside of the zoo for the peacock to give to the pigeon. It's like the Chicago rat hole, but it's for two gay birds. Every time the peacock escapes, they go to this shrine, and pick out a present for the pigeon. The offerings range from flowers, to shiny things, to plushies, etc. There are even social media accounts dedicated to showing what the peacock picks out for the pigeon, and the peacock giving the pigeon the gifts. It's become this big thing to brag about if the peacock picks your offering to give to the pigeon.

More of the pigeon and peacock story, but I’m introducing the antagonist, the sparrow.

The sparrow is an outdoor bird, like the pigeon, who saw a poster on the streets of New York of the peacock. Because the pigeon and the peacock are basically celebrities at this point, they've become the mascots for the zoo, so the zoo has posters of the two as advertisements. The sparrow sees one of these posters, and immediately falls for the peacock, so they set out to try and find the peacock. One day they spot the peacock, who just escaped the zoo yet again, and is on the look for the pigeon, but the sparrow tries to get their attention. The sparrow jumps in front of the peacock, and gives them a shiny rock, but the peacock is unimpressed because they just spotted the pigeon. As the peacock runs off to interact with the pigeon, the sparrow plots to start sabotaging their relationship, so that they can be with the peacock instead.

Here are some of the sparrows attempts at romancing the peacock.

The sparrow comes up with an idea to impress the peacock by acting like the pigeon, so one day they do things like digging through a trash can like the pigeon does, but they accidentally fall in. Before they can get out, a trash man collects the trash, and the sparrow is thrown into a garbage truck, and taken to a land fill. It takes the sparrow a week to get back.

Some time after the trash incident the sparrow decided to visit the peacock at the zoo, but one of the zoo employees mistakes the sparrow as an animal that escaped their enclosure, and brings them back to the bird enclosure which is separate from the peacocks enclosure. They end up being trapped in a zoo enclosure for a month before they finally break out.