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tothosewholisten · 5 months ago

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Forever Healed | TUA Insert

Chapter: 17

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Masterlist

…

My body was in complete autopilot for the whole morning; I didn't even get a wink of sleep in the few hours that I had time to. No one around me slept much either. We were all too worried for Alison, as well as the fact that Harold Jenkins could be anywhere right now and we wouldn’t be able to figure it out. But I seemed to be the only person worried for the missing sibling, Vanya.

I thought about her as I checked back up on Alison, who lay on the table still, like a statue with her bloodstained clothes. Without taking a closer look, I shook my head; her healing wasn't where I wanted it yet. It’s been hours since I’d first injected her with the serum, and she hasn’t even opened her eyes yet.

“Is she gonna make it?” A coarse voice called out to me. I turned around to see Luther, disheveled and almost shaking. I would’ve felt bad if it hadn't been for his actions last night.

“Yeah.” I replied quickly. “But her vocal cords... they won't be the same. But luckily her carotid artery wasn’t severed.”

The man walked towards me with a slight limp and sat down in the chair that was placed next to Alison. “Will she be able to talk?” He looked at me in desperation.

“I think if we give it time, yes, but it's too early to tell.” I didn't even know the girl who was speaking to Luther. She sounded so in control and like she actually helped people. It was jarring to see that I can only switch into a responsible person when someone around me is hurt. The last time I acted like this was when Ben died; that was really an unrecognizable girl.

I took his silence as time to stitch up Alison’s wound; every dip into her poor skin made Luther wince. I felt like he still thought this was my fault. The two of us said nothing to each other during that time.

“I'm sorry for last night.” He looked up at me with his stern blue eyes. My face turned away from him to let out a small snicker. Luther apologizing? I just couldn’t believe it.

Luther huffed. “I'm being serious, Y/n; I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you.” I whipped back towards him at his words. “I mean, I shouldn’t have said those things to you, but I was just so scared…”

“If Diego didn't pull me back, Jesus, I didn't know what I was capable of.” He put his hands over his eyes and sighed.

I went back to the serious version of myself and put down the needle in my hand while slowly walking over to him. He looked so sad, but I didn't even know the first thing about comfort; that was never me. What I do know is how to relate to a person and how to talk about my similar struggles as well.

“Well, you're lucky I don't hold judges.” He moved his hands off his face as I tried to make him smile. “I wasn't in my right mind last night either; it's okay.”

“Where were you? Nobody saw you all day?” He asked.

Should I tell him the truth? I thought to myself. Yes, I'm done dancing around the subject of my parents. “Yesterday, I went to visit my birth parents.”

Luther's eyes went wide. “What?”

“While Five and I were gone, we met this crazy woman who worked for this time travel business. She brought up a bunch of bad memories of my life before the academy. It made me think about how at any time a person's life could end without fulfilling all the things they set out to do. Which made me curious about why my parents let Reginald take me. So I went to Pogo yesterday, and he gave me their address.”

“How did it go?” He worried.

“As well as expected for someone I haven’t seen in seventeen years. They had another kid and stayed the exact same as they were when I left. The only thing that was missing was me..." I chuckled.

He looked at me like I was the person on the table; I’ve never seen so much concern on his face before. “What, is there something on my face?” I furrowed my brows.

“No, no, it's just that... you talk about this like it's funny. I mean, this stuff is scary. I don't think about who my parents could’ve been because, you know, I probably only knew them for a few days. You knew them for most of your childhood. But they just move on without you; that doesn’t affect you?”

I sat there as he spoke and started picking at the skin on my fingers. “Of course, I just didn’t think about it like that.”

He whipped his head at me. “And then you came back here after that, and I just yelled at you... shit. I'm really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Luther, you didn't know.” I paused trying to figure out how to lighten the mood. “Jeez, I was sent out to make you feel better, but now you're making me feel better. Isn’t it ironic?”

He shrugged while staring at my fingers. It was funny to me that the one member of the academy who I had the least amount of connection with sat there and listened to every little thing I told him.

Our chat ended when Pogo walked into the room with Grace. Luther tensed up like a cat looking at a dog; just what did I miss?

“How is she doing, my dear?” Pogo asked me.

“She’s going to be okay.” I smiled. She just had to be; I didn’t know what I was going to do if she wasn't.

“You’ve done great work, Miss Y/n. If it wasn't thanks to the boys and yourself, there’s a chance she wouldn't have made it.” He sighed. “I've had enough of seeing people die around here.” I nodded at him somberly.

He then turned to look directly at Luther, “Grace and I can take it from here, Master Luther. Go ahead and rest.” Pogo tried to rest his hand on the man's shoulder, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“You're the last person here I would trust.” Luther muttered. “I'm not going anywhere.”

His small hand went back to his side as he took a step back from him. Luther didn't mean it; he was coping, and whatever happened when Five and I were gone truly affected him. I looked up at Pogo from Luther's side. “It's okay; I'll watch over them.” I mouthed to the ape. If only Alison woke up, she would be able to talk to him, and maybe we could all be okay.

Pogo looked at Grace as they slowly turned to walk out of the room, but he didn't leave without giving us all a final look of sadness. Once he shut the door, I looked back at Luther, who was fixated on looking at Alison’s neck. I realized that I had no idea what everyone else was doing, and if they were going to look for Vanya, I needed to be there. But I couldn’t leave him like this. I let out a yawn from how exhausted I was.

“Are you going to be okay, Luther?” I asked softly.

“I think so.” He replied to me.

“If you need anything or if she wakes up, just yell, and I'll come running.” I grinned. My eyes reached his with pure muscle memory, but now things are different; the world is ending, people are getting hurt, and we’re no longer kids. I rushed down the staircase hoping that in the couple of hours max that I was with Luther, no one else died or they found Vanya. When I reached the living room area of the mansion, I was surprised to see three unlikely companions conversing on the couches.

“The bastard that nearly killed our sister’s still out there, with Vanya. We need to go after her.” Diego spoke while pacing around the room.

Five, clearly annoyed with his antics, stopped in front of him to stop his pacing. “Vanya is not important.” He said to him,

“That’s your sister, you heartless little shit.” I called out to the group. They all turned to me and bombarded me with questions. Things like “Is Alison alright?” And “Where’s Luther?”

I answered those questions with a simple. “She’s going to be okay; she just needs to regain her strength, and also Luther is watching over her.”

Diego crossed his arms over his chest. “Did he apologize to you?”

“Yeah?”

“Good, I told him to.” He looked proud of himself.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but what are we going to do about finding Vanya?” I asked.

Five continued what he was saying earlier. “I'm not saying I don't care about her, but if the apocalypse happens today, she will die along with the other seven billion of us. Harold Jenkins is our first priority.”

Diego shakes his head in agreement. “Let’s go then.”

Klaus spoke up from his comfy seat on the couch. “You guys can count me out. I mean, you know, no offense to whatever. I just... I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly sober me, so...”

“No way. If I'm stuck with these two, then you are too.” I told him.

“You’re coming.” Diego reinstated.

“No, no, no. I mean, I think we can all agree that my powers are pretty much useless; I'm just holding you guys back.” Klaus went on.

Five ran a hand through his hair. “Klaus, get up.”

Klaus comically crossed his arms while standing his ground on the couch. “You can't make me.” He stated.

But whenever you tell Diego he can't do something, he will go above and beyond to do that thing. When it comes to this situation, he made Klaus get up by throwing a knife that landed perfectly right next to a spot you do not want anything near.

Which made the man squeak out in shock and quickly get up from the couch. “Oh, then again a little exercise couldn’t hurt! Yeah.”

Five and Diego led us to an unfamiliar house dubbed the Harold Jenskins residence. The idea that we were one step closer to finding this guy shook me to the core. He could’ve done anything to the defenseless Vanya. When we got close to the door of the house, it was wide open; there was no way he left it open on purpose; something must have happened. I stopped for a second in my tracks to listen for heartbeats, but when I listened in, I heard the four of us, but that was it.

“Guys, there’s no one in the house...” I was confused.

Diego turned to me. “Are you sure?”

“Except for us, there’s not a single beating heart in the area, so unless there’s a dead body in there. They’ve already left.” My own heart started racing at the thought.

All of us turned to Five, “Search for clues.” He told us.

We opened the door to the foul stench of something dead; my legs moved on their own as they raced into the house to see if it was Vanya. Instead of letting out a sigh of relief when I saw it wasn't here, I let out a gasp of surprise. The rest of them caught up to me after a few seconds, and they also witnessed what I was looking at.

“This is not what I was expecting...” Klaus lets out.

“Understatement of the year.” Five ads.

“You guessed right, Y/n.” Diego pats me on the back.

Here was the infamous Harold Jenkins, lying on a smashed table surrounded by hundreds of typical kitchen knives pierced into his body. It was grotesque; whoever did this had something to prove.

Diego, with a hand over his nose, walks back over to the door. “Let’s get out of here before the cops come.”

“In a minute.” Five says while kneeling down by the corpse. He takes the eye out of his pocket and sticks it into Harold Jenkins' previously bandaged eye.

“Oh come on, Five, what are you...?” Diego gags.

The sound of squishing eye socket skin, as well as the sheer force Five was using to shove it, made Klaus and Diego back up; I was intrigued, but the smell sent me back also.

The boy's grin on his face didn't match his actions at all: “Same eye color, same pupil size. Guys, this is it.” He exclaimed during this disgusting moment. “The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it’s—it's found its rightful home.” With that same realization, we all took a step forward. This was the guy? Is it really over? Could we go back to our mundane lives?

“We got the guy we needed to stop the apocalypse.” Diego mirrored my thoughts.

Klaus took another look at the cold, dead body and decided it was time to leave. “Yay, let's go!” He turned to leave but was quickly held back by one of Diego’s arms in a show of strength.

“You know, for being able to conjure the dead, you're really squeamish.” He mocked.

Five looked like he was in a trance, whispering things to himself while looking all over the dead body for clues. “Wait... this can't be that easy... I don't believe it.” He blinked back over to us with the note from the commission in his hands. “We got this from the commission. It says, Protect Harold Jenkins, aka Leonard Peabody.”

“Yeah?” Diego raised an eyebrow.

I raised my head from the scene in front of me to look back at the body. “But what were they trying to protect him from...?” With at least a hundred knives plunged into his body, I knew this wasn’t a mercy kill; somebody had caused it and fled from the house quickly. “There��s something out there, guys, even worse than this guy and the commission.”

Five looked at me like I was the last sane person in the room. “Exactly, this isn’t over yet. We need to keep searching.”

“Hey, I have an idea...” Klaus said. “Why don't we just find Vanya and ask her what happened?”

It wasn't a bad idea at all, so I looked over to Five to get his opinion, but there was only empty space next to me. The teleporting boy left us; he was probably on his way back to the academy. But where would Vanya be?

“If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the Academy.” Diego told us.

We carefully headed out of the house; Klaus was the first one out, something about begging for some fresh, not smelly, clean air. I hoped that maybe on our way back we would cross paths with the missing girl.

We tore the house up looking for Vanya; I checked every place where I thought I'd find her, but it was like she never existed. Everything except for her room, which didn't have a speck of Vanya's personality. It made me think back to how she was never in any group photos and not in any activities. I should’ve spent more time with her when I had the chance.

Klaus knocked on the front door of Vanya's room, where I stood looking for anything that would hint at her location. “Find anything, Y/n?” He asked me.

“Not yet, but I think I’ll keep looking.” Klaus didn't take that as a hint to go away; instead, he took a step closer and put his hands on my shoulders and shook me. “I’m sure she’s okay; she’s capable.” He smiled. I turned towards him with wide eyes. “I know, but did you see what happened to Harold? That could happen to her, and I swear to God I'm not bandaging up or saying goodbye to another one of you.” I rambled for a good moment thinking of all the possible scenarios.

Klaus put a finger to my lips and shushed me. I gave him a stare that could be described as pure hatred while punching his hand away. “No way you just shushed me.”

He groaned. “Why yes, I did! You need to calm down; you’ve been so antsy recently. I should make some tea. Or... hey, you know what calms me down when I'm nervous?

“Drugs and alcohol? I'm not interested. Ask me tomorrow and I'll be ready to shoot up.” I said sarcastically as I rubbed away any tears that could’ve almost fallen.

I felt his rougher hand wrap around my own and looked back up to see Klaus trying to drag me out of the room. “We need to go check in with the others. If we look together, there’s no doubt we’d find her.” He cheered.

The two of us raced around the house trying to find Diego and Five, and when we did, Five only had one question. “Find anything?” I shook my head. “She wasn't in any of the rooms we checked either.” He said.

We stood there for a second just waiting for a miracle that never came. Diego cut the silence. “Well, I'm out.” Everyone hurled a set of questions at the man who was already halfway through the hallway.

“Vanya is still out there, Diego, and so are Hazel and Cha-Cha.” I tried to reason.

He turned to us with a look of determination on his face. Was he going after them again? “Yeah, I know. I'm going to get my stuff and then head out. I've got some unfinished business with those fools.”

I took a step closer when nobody protested his leaving, readying myself to tell him to stop when a pair of hands gripped onto my arm. “Nope, you're not leaving me.” Klaus jokes, but it didn't feel like him, I think, just his voice.

My eyes watched Diego walk out of the academy, and I let out a sigh. “What did I say about bandaging all of you guys up?”

“He’ll be fine.” Five states. “Hey, did Dad say anything about the apocalypse when you spoke to him? Any clues on how it happened?” He asked Klaus.

There’s no way I heard that correctly. “You spoke to Reginald?” I shouted.

Klaus nodded. “Relax! It was only dead Reggie. But no, no clues but a truly terrific shave. But no clues.” Five scoffed and took off down the stairs. “Come to think of it, he did mention something about my potential and how I’ve barely even scratched the surface of my—“ Klaus raced after Five, who headed down the stairs with pure rage behind each step; I slowly trailed behind them.

“How did he know about the apocalypse?” Five cut him off, clearly not listening.

“I don't know, but listen. This whole jumping through time thing of yours, how did... How did you know how to do that? And N/n, how do you know how to heal yourself without thinking about it?”

I blinked, not realizing I had to actually respond. “Uh... practice?” Yeah, if practice was as simple as cutting off a body part and being forced to grow it back.

Five answers were different from mine. “I didn't. You’d realize that if you were actually sober.” That was mean even for him.

We got off the staircase, and I watched as the two started a standoff. “Hey! I am sober.” He says. “I've been sober for almost two days now.”

“Yeah, two days.” Five mocked back.

“It feels like forty-five years...”

Five pointed to the man's hands. “Who are you kidding, Klaus? I've seen you fidgeting all day.”

“Well, I guess we’re both fighting our addictions, then.” Klaus takes a step forward, completely covering my view of Five because of how he covers the shorter man.

“I'm not an addict.”

“Yeah, you are.” Klaus starts to whisper. “You're addicted to a drug called the apocalypse.”

“And you're addicted to getting shitfaced and making the people around you pick up the pieces!” He shouts.

“At least I know my problems like everyone else! You don't even realize.”

“Problems like everyone else? What about her?” Five’s shorthand points at me, and I forget that I'm even there. “This has nothing to do with her!” Klaus mutters.

“Then stop pointing out things about me! I'm not what you say I am!”

“First sign denial.” Klaus moves towards me, thinking that he left Five speechless, but when the blue portal thing reappears back in front of him, they continue arguing. I start to get antsy again; I couldn’t deal with all the bickering.

“You and I, we’re not the same.” Five pushes his finger into the center of the man's chest.

“I've seen that look. In the eye of someone who doesn't know who they are without their high anymore. Trust me. You gotta just let it go.” Klaus actually starts to calm down.

Those words stuck in my brain, but at this point my heart is racing, and my body goes back into autopilot. I leave the two butting heads alone and head to the bar to do exactly what Klaus said I should’ve done earlier. My hands opened a bottle of brandy that was hidden in a cabinet. But I stopped when I heard the sound of glass shattering back where I left them.

“Figuratively, but yeah, that works too!” I hear Klaus call out.

Soon I'm joined by Five near the bar, who immediately looks at me with disgust when he sees what I'm drinking. He tells me something about how the end of the world called for something more festive, which was very out of character for him but was appreciated. I could understand why, though; having your actions called out right in front of you is the harsh reality people with problems go through. And I wanted to make sure Five knew he wasn’t alone.

“You know.” I addressed him, “When Klaus said he knows the look that a person gets when they don't know who they are without their high anymore. It made me think.”

“About what?” He stared at me.

“I mean, like, you guys were talking about your issues, and I realized I'm the exact same way. Back when I was in the academy, I thought my life purpose was to save people even if it meant hurting myself. When I moved out, my purpose was to survive, and finally when I joined the commission, my purpose was to hurt others to try and help myself. I've never really lived for myself like right now, and I'm just at a standstill. But the moral of my sob story is that I understand you to a certain extent, so don't think you're crazy just because we all have our highs; at least yours is for a good cause.” I chuckled at the feeling the drink in my hands gave me. “I'm not even sure if that helps.”

He looks down at his glass of festive, strangely green alcohol. “You know it actually does, thank you Y/n.”

“Of course.” My lips curled into a grin. But then, the doorbell rang, and I leaped out of my seat to check if it was Vanya or Diego, but why would they ring the doorbell?

“Be back in a sec!” I called out to Five.

When I opened the door, I was face to face with my carbon copy; it was like I was staring back at myself. “What?” I said in a daze. It took me a minute to realize who it was. “Oh, it's you.” I said to my brother.

After taking a closer inspection, I could see the unsure look on his face. “It’s still crazy to see someone who looks—“

“I was born first; you look exactly like me.” I cut him off.

He gulped. “Right, can we talk inside? It’s really cold.”

I stood at the door unconvinced. “You're not going to try to kill me and take my inheritance, right?” He stood there while I tried to mask chuckles coming from my mouth.

“What?”

Then I tried to lead the poor boy upstairs into my room away from any prying eyes; sadly, I was spotted by Five before my brother could even take a step in. I shook my head and dragged the teen upstairs.

“Uhm, what’s your name?” I asked him. He was too busy marveling at every little thing he saw. “Sorry, my name is Benjamin.”

My mind stopped working; my only thought was to get into his face. “You gotta be fucking with me? Who put you up to this visit, huh? I know it wasn't her.”

“Can you back up, please?” He squeaks. I forgot this guy was just a kid; the sight of him just makes me mad even if he’s not to blame.

“Sorry, your name is just familiar...”

His scared demeanor turns slightly overjoyed. “Yeah, I know! After Number Six, right, Ben? He was my favorite growing up; you guys were my idols. It’s even cooler knowing my own sister was Number Zero. If it were me in the group, I would’ve loved to be Number Zero; it's the best number! But hey, whatever happened to Ben? I know he was sick, but why’d he quit the team?”

Any color in my face drained after each sentence my brother spoke. I could feel my body almost giving out at the mention of him. “He’s... he’s dead.” I whispered, and that shut up Benjamin quickly.

“Oh…”

“He died on a mission, but Reginald, he... he never wanted anyone to know. So he told the media that he was sick and quit the team.” Fuck, I wish he just quit; he didn't even want to be a part of the academy, just like me, but he was forced to. Instead he is six feet underground, and I can never see him again.

“I'm so sorry for your loss.” He whispered while looking at the ground.

I blinked away any emotion on my face. “Why are you here?” It was rude, but I was tired of this feeling resurfacing, though I knew that I'd never be able to forget about harsh details like these.

“I'm here to give you this.” Benjamin handed me a neatly put-together envelope. “I know you probably want nothing to do with us, and I don't blame you, but before we leave you alone, we want you to know how we really feel. There’s a part of the letter from each of us, but that’s it. You don't even have to reply; I just wanted to leave you with this.”

He turned to leave, and I didn't stop him.

I didn't open the letter for at least five minutes into my pity party in my room; of course my parents wouldn't know the connection I had with Ben when they named my brother after him, but it didn't hurt any less. The only connection that they had to me during those seventeen years was the name of another young boy, who never got to grow up. But it was eating me up inside to know what the letter said; would it be years of apologies or more excuses? And before I could even register what I was doing, I sliced open the envelope with my nail.

There was only one piece of double-sided line paper; that's it? This was everything they were dying to tell me, compiled in just a few paragraphs. It almost made me laugh. I was about to open my window and throw it out; maybe it would even hit Benjamin on the head. That way there would be no confusion that I was completely done with them and that they could just move on with their happy lives as three.

But the first three words on the front side caught my eye. In blue ink it read, “My dear daughter.” In a handwriting that my mom would always describe as hard to read because of the way my dad’s hands used to shake when writing, a sign of old age. It surprised me that out of them he was the first one to decide to write. Now I couldn’t throw it away; I had to see what it said.

“My dear daughter, I didn't know what to think when your mother told me you came home, but I'm overjoyed now. I knew that we'd make our ways back into your life, but only when we were at a point where we moved past all of our issues, just so we could be the parents that you deserved. M/n said that you looked healthy. I couldn’t wish for anything more. I'm so glad you’ve taken great care of yourself, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you in person. I know I'm not without my faults, and you probably never even wanted to see me, but I've changed so much, though it took me years to understand what I was putting you and your mother through. I want you to understand one thing: this was never anything of your doing, and the fault is all on me.

To give a little context on why this all happened, I just wanted to start with the union of your parents. Your mother and I got married three weeks after meeting for the first time because my family was pushing for me to get out of their sight. There was a lot of pressure on me after years of flunking school and then doing deals with bad men later in life. But back then I thought that was the only thing I could do; I mean, that's what my parents set me up for. They hated me and how I took their freedom away, and they made sure to let me know by the same means I hurt you. I grew up thinking that's how you show people affection. When you used to cry as a little girl, I knew I was doing something wrong, but I never knew how to fix myself.

I was scared when I had to pull you out of class one day for causing a kid to stop breathing. It wasn't your fault; you were overwhelmed, and she was teasing you. (She’s okay now, by the way; she went to Yale.) She had teased you in the same way I would abuse you, and you just defended yourself. But a part of that was the fact that you're my daughter and you inherited my worst trait, my anger. Where I went wrong was instead of trying to understand you, I shipped you off to the first person who asked, even if that man was once my friend. It has been the biggest regret of my entire life. Nothing I try to explain will make up for the horrible childhood you had at the Umbrella Academy, but I hope now you can have peace knowing this was never about you. It was about a hate-filled man who only started to see how his firstborn was doing when he read a book about her.

I published the book Vanya wrote, and I still read the chapters about you all the time. After all, after Reginald and herself, you were the most written-about person. She loves you as I do, even when I never showed it. Years of rehab and anger management classes made me realize that, if you ever want to talk, please come visit, but know we will always be thinking about you in our minds.

I'm sorry for the start of your life turning out so horrid, but I hope you do great things with the rest of your life, your father, F/n L/n.”

I continued reading but this time transitioning to better handwriting, my mother's. “To my Y/n, I cherished the few moments of happiness we had when you came over to our house. I'm really sorry it ended so abruptly. I should’ve told you that Benny was coming over. It wasn't my plan to leave out so many details of what's happened after you left, but you just looked so happy, if only for a few seconds. I didn't want to leave that moment; it brought me the greatest joy a mother could have.

Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, so it was my idea to send you a letter just in case it's another seventeen years before we see you next. I read D/n’s part already, and he and I share a lot of the same feelings. Nothing that ever happened was the cause of you being a bad daughter; we were just not ready for kids. I don't know what happened to me that day, and to this day I still don't get it. I gave birth to you in my wedding dress at the chapel where we got married; it was the scariest moment of my entire life because my body just created life out of nowhere. I was left badly scarred and told I wasn't giving birth ever again.

You probably won't understand until you have children of your own, but postpartum depression hit me like a truck. A new country, a new last name, and a new language with no family to guide me wasn't easy. I didn't treat you like a mother should; by six, you were washing dishes and doing things that I should've been happy to do for you. I just have so many regrets, one of them being the fact that you helped me with your father, but I never did the same. I should’ve pushed more when Reginald came to collect you, but I was scared of the consequences that would’ve happened.

The last thing I want to address is your younger brother and how he came about. Of course he wasn’t born under the same circumstances you were, but he was also a surprise. He was conceived during a night of drunken passion between two people who didn't love each other at the time. The doctors called it a ‘miracle’ when I was able to deliver him, but I always thought it was the good will of my first miracle baby. Even though we were happy, I was still scared that my nasty ways would pass on to him, so I brought my mother from our country to help out.

Benjamin’s name came about when I would watch you on TV all the time. I could never get over the fact that you were now a better person than I could ever be; my own daughter was a superhero. You never failed to amaze me. I saw on those videos how connected you were to Number Six, and I just thought maybe I could project some of that love you gave him to my boy.

I sent Benny to come find you, so I hope this reaches you safely. I'm sorry this is so long; I know I said I would keep it short, but there was so much I left out of your visit. Please bring Ben to the house sometime if you ever want to come over, but it's up to you. The two can have a laugh about their same names. Again, I don't want you to hold anything against him because you children are the only innocent ones here; put the blame on us. I was a coward and a bad person, but now my only wish is to become a better mother.

Love, M/n.”

And lastly. “To my sister from the same mister, I don't even know where to start. I recognized you from seeing you at the door, but I would never have known we were related if Mom hadn't dropped that bomb on us. When you left, I was angry; I was ready to go back to my friend's house or go after you. Then my dad came home, and I told him what just happened. Before I knew it, I was sat down and told about you.

My only wish is that you don't hate me for taking your life because I would never have taken it if I had known it was yours first. I know I'm so much younger than you, and you're literally a superhero, so I hope that you can rough it out with us normal humans sometime. Please come visit; your room was never touched, so crash over whenever. Grandma is a pain in my ass. I need someone else to talk to.

You're super cool; you gotta show me your powers so maybe I can develop my own! Please bring the Umbrella Academy and make them sign my figures.

Sincerely, Benjamin L/n.”

When I got to the end of the double-sided paper, my mind was racing, but I only had two questions that needed to be answered. How did they squeeze so much writing on one piece of paper, and how far had Benjamin walked already? Without grabbing anything, I ran out the front doors and down the street looking for anyone who had an Umbrella Academy pin on his jacket.

After a few minutes, I spotted the strangely tall boy. “Ben!” I shouted while pushing through the crowded streets. For a second, one tiny second, the boy who turned around to smile at me was Ben Hargreeves in all his black hoodie glory. It was just my mind playing tricks, right? I would never see my Ben ever again, but I was pushing past the pain of that in this moment.

“Yeah?” He shouted back, planting his feet in the middle of the street.

Once I chased him down, I did something that I'll think about forever, even if we die in the tomorrow. I hugged my little brother on that busy street, not caring who cursed at me or gave me weird looks. I found the action extremely hard, though, because of his height. “Why the fuck are you so tall?” I cried out.

He laughed at me, “I think that's a you problem. Mom and Dad are both super tall. Hey, maybe that's our superpower!”

I looked at him with teary eyes. “How could someone so cheerful come from such a messed-up family?”

“I'm not the cheery one. You should see Grandma on game nights. Oh! That's tomorrow. You need to come over; it will be so fun, I promise.” He pleaded.

What am I doing tomorrow? “Oh, I can't; the world might end if I don't go shopping! Sorry, I'm just too busy. But you better win whatever you play just for me.”

The look on his face made me want to take back what I said. I told myself if we figure out what's going on with the world, I'll go to a hundred game nights. But for now I'll have to settle with, “Come on, I'll drive you home. Wait, I don't have a license; I'll get someone to drive you there. You're going to love him; he's practically as old as you!”

Ben shook his head. “It’s no problem; I'm just going to catch the bus. I already bought this bus card.”

“Well, at least let me walk you to the stop.” I reasoned.

His smile was so large and vivid it reminded me of the sun. “Of course I still have so many more questions for you. Like, why were you guys missing a number for almost your whole run? Did Number Five just leave the group to do his own solo career?”

Even though my body was physically sick of crying, I shed one last tear thinking about that letter. Without being able to time travel like Five, I would never know if the things my parents said were actually true, but I’d like to believe they are. But the mental scars of my mind will never truly heal, and I think I was okay with that.

‘In order to move on with the future, you need to learn how to forget your past.’ Klaus said that once in his sleep, I decided that would be my mentality for now on. First the Umbrella Academy solves the apocalypse problem, and then maybe, just maybe, I can start living for my future.

“Something like that.”

…

Sorry this took me so long I’ve been super busy but happy holidays and happy new year guys!!

Taglist:

@aloflapse

@isomehowexist

@elenalovestoread

@miscrying

@gabriella-aesthetic

@dakotapaigelove

@solarbeanz

@theorginalone111

@water-hemlock18

@tialovesyoutoo

@bunnychano3o

@rockyeatrock

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claudeng80 · 2 months ago

Text

For a rainy day

The sound of the infirmary is all wrong. When Shirayuki is at work, she sings off-key to herself, harmonizing badly with the background music the computer pipes through the space. Chords and rhythms unknown to man or extraterrestrial echo through the storage rooms as she rummages and sorts or the laboratory as she works, interrupting her own concert at times with verbal notes on her findings.

Obi’s dozed off on the medi-bed more times than he can count, sleeping better with her accompaniment than he does in the lonely hum of his own bunk.

But now there’s only the discordance of the medical alarms, each one shrieking in its own tone and demanding Shirayuki’s expertise to remedy. The heart monitor murmurs mournfully, an unsettling drone beneath the wail of three others Obi can’t even begin to address. The only voice who can speak their language is silent.

It took just too long to get her back here, Shirayuki’s weakening litany of commentary and advice wavering and failing as time passed. He did everything she asked, bandaging and splinting, setting sensors and helping her stay hydrated, but when it comes down to it he’s just a pilot. Obi pushed the shuttle to its limits, breaking every approach law and docking protocol, but in the end physics bends for no-one.

The communicator warbles with the bridge’s contact sequence but Obi just lets it ring, just one more voice joining the cacophony. She’s dying on the table, that’s what every alarm is screaming, and he’s on his own.

***

Lata drops the device on the examination table, dusting off his fingers as though it’s left a residue. “Throw it out if you don’t want it. I refuse to waste any more of my time on something so illogical.”

Shirayuki prods the cuff and it tips over, the cable attached slithering off the edge of the table with a sinister hiss. “Just because we can’t explain how it works doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. We saw-”

“We thought we saw something, but all they’ll tell us is nonsense about so-called life force.”

“I believe in biological processes. Surely there’s something we can measure-”

“Fine. Measure it on your own time, then. I just don’t want to see it again.” He kicks the doorframe on the way out, leaving a dent in the duraweave.

***

One alarm drops out of the nightmare chorus as the automatic system finishes sealing the last of her open wounds. The last of the spilled blood disappears into the table’s reservoirs, cells and plasma to be recycled into base elements for the next needed infusion. She may be seeing it again any second, for all he knows, through any of the tubes the system’s cocooned her with. She’s still breathing, and the computer insists her core temperature is good, and yet it’s not enough. Her heartbeat is weak, wrong enough that he can hear it. The computer has no suggestions he can understand, no directions he can follow.

He folds her icy hands between his own.

***

Ryuu eyes the device with all the skepticism a teenage boy who is also a medical expert can summon. “Even if it does do something,” which it doesn’t, he doesn’t bother to add. “There’s no off switch. Is there a failsafe? We don’t know anything about how it works.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out, though?” Shirayuki sparkles when she’s curious, but it dims when Ryuu turns his gaze on her.

“I’m not going to waste my time on a hoax,” he says. He pulls up a paper on his tablet and settles in to read.

Shirayuki knows the end of a conversation when she hears it. The device, with all its straps and cords, coils loosely into the box, and the box slides into a storage cabinet. She’ll try again another time.

***

Somewhere in the last few months, between the Oriold crisis and Ryuu’s transfer to the Lilias after the Rugilia incident, the box got pushed to the back of its shelf. Empty containers skitter across the floor as Obi scoops them out of the way, and the cabinet door slams against the wall with a resounding crack.

The communicator chimes again, a sound more urgent than before, but Obi ignores it. The door control panel swings open with a tap, and he pulls the emergency lock. They’ll be able to override it before long, but there should be enough time for what he’s going to set up. There may be nothing he can do, but there is one thing left he can give.

He barely hears the medical alarms anymore, everything but the rasp of her breath fading into unimportance. He pulls up a chair and leans against the bed, and with one finger he lifts an errant lock of her hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear.

The target cuff hangs loosely on her at first, but after a moment in place the hard material softens and shrinks, conforming to her skin. There is no start button and no stop, just as they said.

“I’m here because you believed in me,” he says. She doesn’t respond. She can’t hear him, now, but maybe she’ll look at the recordings later. She did want data on how this machine works, after all.

He clamps the source cuff on his wrist, and almost immediately a strange fatigue washes over him. He lays his head down on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall as her breaths ease. Lata and Ryuu will both be so mad, but Obi only cares about one thing anymore. “Finally I can return the favor.”

#obiyukimadness25 #caretaker reversal #fanfic #for cc who encourages my bad ideas #and with respect to Babylon 5 which broke my heart with this #undefined space opera au #this is why nobody lets Obi be in charge of caretaking

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erpinformation · 3 months ago

Link

#typesofandonlights #andonlights

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localservices6 · 10 months ago

Text

Essential Garage Door Maintenance Tips for a Smooth and Safe Operation

Your garage door is an integral part of your home, providing security, convenience, and a touch of curb appeal. Regular maintenance is crucial to ensure it operates smoothly and safely. Neglecting your garage door can lead to costly repairs and potential safety hazards. Here are some essential garage door maintenance tips to keep your door in top shape, and why you might need garage door repair in Grayson County TX.

1. Regularly Inspect and Clean the Tracks

The tracks are vital for the smooth operation of your garage door. Over time, they can accumulate dirt, debris, and grime. Regularly inspect the tracks for any signs of wear or obstruction. Use a clean cloth to wipe down the tracks and a gentle cleaner to remove any buildup. Make sure the tracks are aligned properly; misalignment can cause your garage door to operate unevenly and lead to more significant issues.

2. Lubricate Moving Parts

Lubrication is essential for the longevity and smooth operation of your garage door. Apply a silicone-based lubricant to the door’s rollers, hinges, and tracks. Avoid using WD-40 or other petroleum-based products, as these can attract dirt and cause further wear. Regular lubrication reduces friction, making the door operate more quietly and efficiently.

3. Test the Balance

A balanced garage door is crucial for its smooth operation. To test the balance, disconnect the door from the opener by pulling the release cord (usually a red handle). Manually lift the door halfway and let it go. If it stays in place, the balance is good. If it moves up or down, the door might be out of balance, and you should consider contacting a professional for garage door repair in Grayson County TX to adjust the springs.

4. Check the Springs

Garage door springs are under significant tension and are crucial for the door’s operation. Check the springs for any signs of wear or damage, such as gaps or rust. If you notice any issues, it’s essential to address them promptly. Due to the high tension in springs, it’s best to leave spring repairs and replacements to professionals. Attempting to fix them yourself can be dangerous.

5. Inspect the Cables

The cables are responsible for lifting the garage door and work in conjunction with the springs. Inspect the cables for any signs of fraying or damage. If you notice any issues, contact a garage door repair service immediately. Damaged cables can pose serious safety risks and should be repaired or replaced by a professional.

6. Examine the Rollers

Rollers help the door move smoothly along the tracks. Inspect the rollers for any signs of wear, such as cracks or chips. If the rollers are damaged, replace them to ensure smooth operation. You can purchase replacement rollers at most hardware stores or contact a professional for assistance.

7. Test the Safety Sensors

Garage doors come equipped with safety sensors that prevent the door from closing if something is in its path. Test the sensors by placing an object, like a piece of wood, in the path of the door while it’s closing. The door should reverse and open. If it doesn’t, the sensors might be misaligned or malfunctioning, requiring adjustment or repair.

8. Inspect the Weatherstripping

Weatherstripping helps insulate your garage and keep out the elements. Inspect the weatherstripping along the bottom of the door and the sides. If it’s cracked or worn, replace it to maintain energy efficiency and protect your garage from water and pests.

9. Test the Garage Door Opener

Ensure your garage door opener is functioning correctly by testing the remote and wall switch. If the door doesn’t respond or operates erratically, it might be a sign of an issue with the opener. Check the batteries in the remote and ensure there are no obstructions blocking the sensor. If problems persist, it might be time to call for professional garage door repair in Grayson County TX.

10. Schedule Professional Maintenance

While regular DIY maintenance is essential, scheduling annual professional inspections can help catch potential issues before they become serious problems. A professional garage door technician can perform a thorough inspection, address any minor issues, and ensure your door is operating safely and efficiently.

Conclusion

Maintaining your garage door is vital for its smooth and safe operation. Regular inspections, lubrication, and timely repairs can extend the life of your door and prevent costly breakdowns. If you encounter any issues that are beyond your expertise, such as spring or cable problems, don't hesitate to seek professional help. For comprehensive garage door repair in Grayson County TX, contact a trusted local service to ensure your garage door remains in top condition.

#garage door repair #garage door service #garagedoorrepairgraysoncountytx

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

weird, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them

technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide

“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”

His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.

“Er… yeah, I remember…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.

Your best friend was an odd character.

You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”

Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.

It being sex.

Not romance.

You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.

“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”

“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”

He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.

“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”

You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.

“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”

You saw Seokjin choke on air.

He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.

“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”

Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”

Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.

“I-It’s not for me!”

“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”

Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”

You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.

“Just?”

He froze.

Silence.

“… Seokjin?”

You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.

Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.

Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.

You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.

“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”

You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.

“What do you mean?”

You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.

It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.

He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.

“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”

“How do you know that?”

You blinked at his question.

“What?”

Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”

Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.

“Uh…”

Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…

Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”

You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”

Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”

You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.

“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”

Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.

“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”

You removed your hand and held onto the rope.

Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.

“Call what?”

“Shi-something?”

“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”

Seokjin blinked very rapidly.

You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”

“Ah! Yeah! That!”

“You want that done to you?”

Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”

You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.

“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”

“Wait,” he blurted.

“What?”

“CanIpracticeonyou?”

“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.

“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”

“Seokjin.”

Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”

“I’ve never–” he wheezed.

“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”

“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”

You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.

“Ack…”

“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”

“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”

You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.

“Why do you have scissors?”

“For cutting the rope.”

“Yeah, but why are they so big?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”

You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.

“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”

“But I’m cold.”

“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.

“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.

You paused.

“I thought you were more sub.”

Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.

You waited.

He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.

“Um, anyway–”

You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.

“My nuts!”

“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”

Hang on.

You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.

“… You are still a sub.”

Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”

You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.

But were you going to?

No.

You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.

“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.

You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”

“You aren’t taking your rings off?”

He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”

He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.

Precarious.

“Ah, perfect.”

Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop squirming.”

He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.

“Watch. Now.”

His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.

“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”

“But I can still get out.”

You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!

“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”

Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.

Hang on.

Seokjin froze.

You froze.

You both looked down.

You smacked him in the cheek.

“Ow!”

“What are you looking there for?!”

“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”

“Nothing! Stop moving!”

“No!”

“You–”

You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.

“Yah!”

You slapped your free hand over his mouth.

“Silence.”

He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.

In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.

Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.

Your eye twitched.

“Stop it.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.

“I said, stop it.”

And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?

You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.

Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.

You stilled.

Hold on a second.

You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.

Kim Seokjin.

Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.

You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”

But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.

Don’t stop?

DON’T STOP?

His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”

His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.

Your heart was racing fast.

He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.

“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”

You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”

You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.

Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”

He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.

Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.

A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.

Still.

You were horny.

And Seokjin was horny.

You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.

“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.

His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…

Now.

You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.

He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?

“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.

Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.

You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.

You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.

“What are you – yah!”

You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.

“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.

You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.

“F-Fuck!”

That shut him up real quick.

Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.

“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”

You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.

You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.

But.

You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.

Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.

“Take it off,” he growled.

Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.

At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?

Yeah, you.

“Oh, f… fucking shit…”

You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.

Seokjin moaned your name.

A shiver of electricity went up your spine.

Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.

You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.

“Whoa!”

You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.

“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”

Uh.

Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?

You hummed casually in response.

“A-Ah…!”

Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.

You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.

“Gah!”

Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.

You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.

Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.

What?

He was handsome!

You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.

“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”

You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”

His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.

“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”

But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.

“Ah, Seok–”

He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.

Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.

Whoa.

He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.

He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.

“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.

“Excuse me?”

There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.

“What?”

Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

“Why are you – gah!”

You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.

“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”

You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.

Okay.

And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.

You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”

Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.

You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.

“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.

Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”

Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.

“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”

You began to rock your hips.

“H-Hey!”

The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”

“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.

Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.

“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.

His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.

You could be a real jerk right now.

His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.

But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.

You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.

“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”

You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.

He needed only one more little push.

“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.

A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.

You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.

“Okay.”

He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…

“Ah! Perfect.”

You cracked open one eye.

And tried not to burst out laughing.

“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.

Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”

“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”

He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.

“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”

He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.

Almost.

Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.

“W… What?” you managed to get out.

He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”

You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.

His cock twitched inside you.

Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.

“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”

You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.

You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.

Alright.

You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.

Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.

“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”

He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.

Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.

Holy shit.

You almost saw stars.

“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”

Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Shut up, Seokjin.”

“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.

“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”

“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”

“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”

Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

Text

Midnight Masquerade

Todoroki Shouto & Shinsou Hitoshi

word count : 8.6k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]

themes : DUBCON, YANDERE. MFM threesome, vampire!todoroki, vampire!shinsou, spanking, praise kink??... double penetration, blood play (hello they’re vampires)

bio : You attend a masquerade ball in hopes of finding a bachelor on Halloween night… only to get much more than you originally bargained for.

author’s note : This fic was inspired by one of my fav movies when I was younger! Van Helsing with Hugh Jackman (2004), in which Dracula hosts an exquisite masquerade ball, full of masked vampires.

side note : Happy Halloween!! I didn’t have time to edit/beta this fic, so it may be a little choppy/rough.. but I’m about to leave for my Halloween party and I wanted to get this out on time so!! please try to enjoy, and I apologize if this is not up to my usual standards. <3

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅈ou received an invitation to a Halloween party… and that was about all the information you had to go off of. What awaited you at this gathering, you had absolutely no idea. The envelope had simply arrived on your doorstep at the beginning of the month, no messenger in sight.

This invitation, scrawled in perfect calligraphy and sealed with the kiss of a stamp upon wax, proved to be even more puzzling when you attempted to uncover its origin. And while you had asked around to anyone you could possibly think of— your friends, family, neighbors, hell, even your mailman— you found no one who could give you any answers. It seemed that you, for some reason, had been issued this invitation, when no one in your primary social network else had.

What was even more peculiar, was that a gown and a pair of heels had arrived two weeks later, in all senses more luxurious than you had ever seen, and tailored to your exact size and measurements. Just from lifting it out of the box, you could tell it was expensive. And as if that hadn’t been enough of a gift, a necklace and earrings that dazzled nearly enough to blind you arrived just a few days following the dress. Finally a last package arrived a few days before the party, containing an intricately-painted mask that tied the whole outfit together. Each of the gifts had a card laid across the top of the tissue-enfolded contents, signed off from your inviter and now confirmed “secret admirer, S.H.”

The enigma of it all perplexed you. You liked to tell yourself that a smart girl like you would never go to such an event, considering you had no clue who had sent you the invitation, let alone such extravagant gifts. You told yourself that you had no obligation to go, that it would be ill-advised to show up without any further information than the address, date, and time.

But someone had clearly gone to great lengths to impress you, and you couldn’t just ignore that. Curiosity burned bright inside you when raked your brain for potential inviters, and as you came to more and more dead ends, your intrigue grew with every second the event stayed on your mind.

You spent every day leading up to the party thinking about it, flipping back and forth as to if you were going to attend or not. Even on the night of, you spent a ridiculous amount of time switching between deciding on going or staying home, taking short bursts of either frantically getting yourself ready, or sitting down and scrutinizing the situation.

You ended up arriving at the address scrawled at the bottom of the mysterious invitation an hour late.

Although you had planned to just hail a cab thanks to your indecision, you were surprised to find a sleek, black Rolls Royce waiting for you at the entrance to your building. The driver, donned in a crisp black and white tux, sported an elegant mask across his face, and wordlessly opened the door for you, bowing and gesturing for you to enter. After a moment of hesitance, you decided it would probably be best to just get into the car— whoever had requested your presence had already gone to such lengths as to cloth and bejewel you— it only made sense for you to arrive in a vehicle that screamed as much wealth as did your outfit.

What you had not expected was to find the location of the event to be a rather estately manor at the border of the city. The driveway twisted through an ominous wood to reach the massive home, and rather nastily-spiked wrought-iron fences guarded the border of the property, looming metal casting eerie shadows against the overcast evening sky. You found yourself wondering briefly what exact purpose the metal lattice served— both sides adorned with rough silver spikes. Traditionally gates were meant to keep things from getting in… it was peculiar to you that they were double-sided.

It was certainly curious, but your eyes were quickly torn from the gates as the car ventured closer to the maleficent abode, your heartbeat beginning to pick up as you came nearer to the grand entrance. There was a gorgeous fountain laid between two sets of curved stone staircases, both leading up to the tall, mahogany doors at the dead center of the manor. The car came to a stop just before the fountain, and you spent the small moment your driver took crossing over to your side and opening your door in breathless anticipation.

The cool, dry October air felt heavenly against your exposed shoulders, the tops of your breasts just peeking out of the neck of the beautiful, sleek gown you’d been sent. The autumn chill did wonders to calm the thumping of your nervous heart, and as you climbed the stairs, your fingers trailing along the cold balustrade, you took a deep breath. When you chanced a look back toward the car, you found it had already disappeared, and a pang of uncertainty rang through you once more. Yes, this was definitely uncharastically brash of you— you still had no idea who could possibly be the one to invite you to such a prestigious soiree— and yet, you found your nerves crackling with excitement, barely able to contain your jittery disposition.

Two more men, also hidden beneath tuxedos and blank masks, bowed as they pulled the heavy wooden doors apart, revealing the bustling affair that lay inside. You were shocked to find so many bodies within just the first glance of the interior— it was a magnificent foyer that was ten times larger than the tiny apartment you had become so accustomed to, a sea of masked party-goers that ebbed and flowed with the live, string-quartet on the stage in the far corner of the room. Countless couples waltzed and spun across the middle of the room underneath humongous crystal chandeliers, all glittering and shining with the low lighting of a thousand candles, by far more fire hazards than you’d ever seen. It was quite a culture shock to you— you had never before been invited into the fruits of such luxury, this level of wealth as mysterious to you as the cryptic sender of your invitation, S.H.

And though this was your first time indulging in the pleasures of such extravagance, you looked like you belonged. You were sure that the outfit this mystery persona had given you to wear tonight was worth far more than the rent you constantly worried about making, and so you fit in quite seamlessly with the crowd of silk-enveloped, gem-encrusted faces, perhaps even going so far as to stand out. The soft silk of your pashmina tickled against your arms as it sat snug around your lower back, curled around your elbows and seams brushing against your hips. The thick necklace— more of a collar, really— sat heavy against your chest, each diamond shining brightly, leading to a large teardrop-shaped pendant of brilliant amethyst that hung perfectly in the middle of your chest. The ornate mask you’d been given concealed the top half of your face, bright ruby gems adorning along your eyes and matching your dress’ deep rouge to an impossibly perfect degree. Initially upon receiving such gifts you were suspicious of their authenticity, but standing now before such a display of affluence, you were certain they were real. The jewels and fine linens gave you a false sense of confidence, and after a moment of absorbing your astounding surroundings, you tentatively began to make your way into the party.

For a while you wandered around by your lonesome, but you didn’t really mind the solitude. It was a refreshing change of pace, and you admired each symbol of wealth you came across. The grand room was decorated with no expenses in mind— rich velvet curtains hung across the walls, tied back with gold corded tassels to allow the cold moon’s luminescence to shine down into the hall. Massive oil portraits lined the walls, each frame depicting a different person of undoubtable esteem, each in their own respect poised yet handsome as the last.

Your eyes wandered to the last two photos on the wall, both of them shockingly attractive in their own ways. One had wild, violet locks and a sultry smirk, the others’ hair split down the middle with tousled red and white, mouth set in an indifferent line. What stood out most to you was the emotion conveyed in both their eyes— it was cold and callous, sending shivers down your spine.

As you turned away from the portraits, you were met with a server, who offered you the silver platter he was carrying as he bowed. Tiny steak tartares, garnished with a red wine sauce and a sprig of herbs; the sight made your mouth water and you thanked him as you took one with the classy little fork he handed to you. Just as you turned your attention back to the portraits before you, you jumped at the discovery of a figure standing beside you.

He was tall, your head coming just above his shoulder, even in your four inch heels. He donned a crisp tuxedo of his own, but his bowtie was left undone, strips of fabric hanging loosely around his neck. Though there was a mask covering his face as well, you instantly recognized the purple flumes of hair, your surprise evident as you let out a small gasp. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes set on the frames above your line of sight, but he then began to speak, his deliciously deep voice taking you again by surprise. “Rather rare,” he spoke, quiet yet clear, eyes still scrutinizing the art before the pair of you.

“E-Excuse me?” you asked for clarity, wondering when exactly this man had appeared, and why you had not noticed such a captivating presence by your side.

At the sound of your voice, he turned his gaze to you, lazy violet eyes inspecting your figure without much attempt at concealing his blatant inspection. You bristled at his audacity, but soon found yourself relaxing as your own eyes wandered the length of his lithe, cut figure. It wasn’t your fault, you reasoned— you had just been admiring this man in his photo and now he appeared before you, looking even more delectable in person.

“The hors d'oeuvres,” he explained, eyes dropping to the forgotten disc of tender meat perched at the end of your fork. He let his gaze wander across your chest before he met your stare again, that same smirk coming to rest on his supple lips. “And such beauty as yours, of course. It’s unparalleled, Miss…?” he trailed off, angling his head to the side as he awaited your response.

You thanked him and told him your name, watching as his smirk only seemed to grow, something mischievous shimmering in those enticing amethyst orbs of his. He leaned forward and ducked into a slight bow, long fingers taking your free hand hostage as he brushed his lips against your knuckles.

“Shinsou will do, for now. Delighted to be acquainted,” he murmured as he pulled back, letting your hand drop and a brief silence fall on the pair of you.

Your eyes wandered to the portrait, then back to your new acquaintance. “That’s you, right?” You inquired, looking up at him through your mask. His bored eyes pierced yours as you met his gaze, and you felt heat accumulate in your cheeks. “What incredible artwork, I don’t think I’ve met anyone that’s posed for an oil painting— was it hard to sit still while it was being made?”

“Not at all,” he replied, taking a sip of the hammered-metal chalice in his large, gloved hand. “The fruits of life sweeten with patience, anyway.”

You wondered briefly if it was his first time posing for this kind of painting. Never had you met anyone who would want— or could afford, really— to commission such a painstakingly realistic portrait of themselves. How much it cost, you could not fathom, and did not care to discover. “So this is your party, then?” You continued after he made no further attempt at conversation.

He nodded, that smirk curling the corner of his mouth again. “You’re an observant little thing, aren’t you?” He remarked, sipping again from his cup. His words were rather rude, and you frowned before you shrugged them off, dismissing them in an instant. You weren’t really surprised by his smug comment, though your displeasure must have been visible because he immediately steered the conversation in another direction. “Are you enjoying yourself? May I get you a drink, my honored guest?”

It was a little off to you how his demeanor changed just like that, a flip of the switch, really— but you were thirsty, and you were curious to see what kind of expensive refreshments were available, so you found yourself nodding with a small smile of gratitude on your lips. He mirrored your smile before he mumbled something about returning soon, his figure swallowed up in the sea of masked faces.

Finding yourself alone once again, you went back to inspecting the portraits, happily humming to yourself as you enjoyed your hors d'oeuvre. You looked around the party, searching for that same waiter, wanting to grab a few more of those delicious bites while you had the chance.

It was then that you met a distinct set of eyes across the room, a white mask with delicate swirls decorating his handsome face. However much the mask concealed his face, there was no doubting that he was the other man from the portrait behind you— his hair was a stark giveaway— half of it scarlet and hanging loosely atop his brow, the other half a shocking shade of white, pushed back to give him a devilishly intimidating aura. Your throat tightened up as he began to make his way toward you, slowly but surely closing the distance between the two of you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if either of these men were the one who sent you your invitation— if one of them was to thank for showering you with such extravagance, for allowing you to dip your toes in the enticing pool of luxury. But you were not allowed to ponder the thought, for in no time at all the man in question stepped before you.

Without even a single thought, your body automatically shifted into a curtsey, and you blinked in surprise as he bowed his greeting in return. He didn’t give you a second to question it, lithe, gloved fingers taking hold of your hand and bringing it to his mouth. His lips were cold to the touch, and your hand trembled slightly as he let go.

“Todoroki Shouto,” he introduced himself, his smooth, deep voice resonating through your body. Something about him made you feel incredibly hot, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It was strange how much he seemed to affect you— almost supernatural. At your stunned silence, he smirked ever so slightly, shifting his head to look down at your shorter figure. “Your name, love? It would be rude of me to refer to you as the most alluring woman in the room the whole night, no?”

Flustered you were caught off guard, you quickly told him your name, adding on it was a pleasure to meet him.

“Y/N, hm? A beautiful name. It suits a woman as breathtaking as you.” He continued, and you could see how satisfied he was by your bashful reaction. “I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

You smiled hesitantly at the man before you, unsure how to respond to his blatant flirting. With the momentary lull in your conversation, you looked over your shoulder to eye the painting once again. Todoroki watched your curious gaze like a hawk, unbeknownst to you. When you looked back to him, you smiled as you pointed your thumb over your shoulder. “Is that—”

“Would you like to dance?” He interrupted, folding your smaller hand in his and taking a step backwards into the dancefloor.

Panic coursed through you— you didn’t know how to dance, or at least, you didn’t think your ballroom skills would be nearly as good as his and everyone else’s here. Yet somehow when you opened your mouth to politely decline, instead came out, “I would be honored.”

With wide eyes you were guided into the center of the room, his other gloved hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist. Your hands found their own way into position, one on his shoulder, and the other wrapped tight around his as he began to steer you around the room. You were shocked to find yourself matching each of his steps, your feet moving in perfect harmony with his. But when you looked into his eyes, a trickle of horror ran down your spine.

He was looking directly at you, two-toned eyes boring into yours with unbridled desire, and some other emotion mixing in to create a frightful end result that could only be described as hunger. Yes, there was no mistaking it— that was hunger in his eyes— for what, you did not know, but somehow your body was aware that whatever it was, you were in for quite the night.

“The dress looks simply appetizing on you, love,” he whispered in your ear, chilling the blood in your veins just like that. “Were you surprised to find it fit like a glove? You look so angelic when you sleep… I hated to disturb you, but it was gratifying to know how much you enjoyed my touch...” His lips brushed against your dangling earrings, and a shiver ran through your body as he inhaled across the skin of your neck.

“Y-You—” you stuttered, eyes widening with realization. Had he— had he taken your measurements? He’d snuck into your bedroom? When? Why? You didn’t even know this man— why would he have taken such an interest in you, how did he know where you lived, and why— why was your heart beating out of your chest at the thought of him seeing you in your sluttly little pyjamas? You knew there was something off about this, but never could you imagine this would be the turn of events tonight. You were terrified, and yet ashamedly, a small part of you was pleased to know a handsome and powerful man as himself had gone to such lengths to woo you. There was no denying it… even though your stomach was tied into knots and fear sat like a stone in your belly, a white-hot, irrefutable desire had sparked to life between your legs.

“Not just me...” he murmured, the tip of his nose dragging against your temple before he dipped you down towards the tiled floor right in tune with the crescendo of the music, your back bending in his grip. Now upside-down, your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Shinsou staring the pair of you down from across the room, that same smirk on his lips as he raised his chalice in contempt. “You’ve met Hitoshi, correct?”

You were only spared a moment to piece it all together, that tight feeling in your stomach only twisting further. S.H… it wasn’t the name of one suitor, but two— Shouto and Hitoshi. Two rich and powerful men that both tricked you into coming to their home, and you had fallen for it— practically serving yourself to them on a silver platter. You were no better than a damn steak tartare! You wanted to face-palm, to smack yourself for being so naive, but you found that your body was not your own; you couldn’t control yourself, couldn’t even speak, and all you could do was continue to dance with the horribly attractive man whose trap you had strolled right into.

Had they drugged you? Was it that accursed steak tartare? But then, wouldn’t you have passed out, or your limbs stopped working? How were you not missing a single step with Todoroki right now, spinning when he led you to spin, and willingly stepping into him when he pulled you back into his embrace.

“What… What are you going to do to me?” Your voice was shaking, even though your body moved more confidently than ever as the pair of you strode across the marble floor. “How is this happening?” You added, feeling quite small as the target of not one, but two predatory gazes.

Todoroki took his time to answer you, wordlessly twirling you in his arms as the music then came to a stop, a new melody beginning just as the previous one faded out. “Whatever we want, I suppose,” he answered, his gloved fingers traveling up your back to grasp your chin, forcing you to look into his chilling gaze. “But don’t worry, love… I don’t think you’re going to hate it all that much.”

— - — - — - — - — - — - — - —

It was only an hour later that you were being led to the other side of the mansion— away from the music and festivities, and away from the false sense of protection the crowd provided. Todoroki walked in front of you, and Shinsou’s hand rested casually on your hip as he walked beside you. Your palms were lined in a thin coating of sweat, your growing fear causing your pulse to skyrocket. You knew that you were about to understand why they had fooled you into coming here, and though you had pondered what terrible fate they had chosen for you for the past hour, your mind was completely blank. You could only watch as your feet moved one in front of the other, your body once again under their spell.

Whatever it was that they were doing, they somehow had complete control over you, and they had forced your body to dance with the both of them for the entire time you’d been there so far. It had created some fake relief as whatever it was they had planned was pushed off for the time being, but you couldn’t indulge such relief, and your nerves were more heightened than ever. You reached your breaking point when you entered a dimly-lit bedroom, and the door closed behind you, lock clicking into place.

“Please,” you pleaded, your body moving to stand in the middle of the room, right before the four-poster, canopy-laden bed. “Just tell me what’s happening, I can’t move a single muscle…”

Shinsou frowned, gloved hand coming up to discard his mask. Your breath caught in your throat— God, even if he was your captor, you couldn’t deny he was handsome. He slowly approached you, fingertips tracing along your jaw before removing your mask as well. He sucked in a small breath of air, violet eyes dark with a foreign sentiment. “Relax, baby… We’re just gonna make you feel good. We’ve wanted to make you feel good for so long now…” His eyes dropped to analyze your lips, entranced by their color and plushness.

“But… Why can’t I move?” you reiterated, and your eyes widened as Todoroki’s presence noticeably pressed up against your behind. The feeling of his body against yours sent your heart hammering, and you swallowed as you considered your options here— there was really only one means of escape and that had to start with you tricking them into freeing you from their spell. Licking your dry lips, you meekly added, “What if I… wanted to make you feel good, too?”

“Fucking Christ,” said Shinsou, who took a step backward, his palm coming to run across his face momentarily. He seemed on edge, anticipation distinctly painted across his rugged features.

Meanwhile Todoroki took his time to answer, considering your choice of words thoughtfully. “We have a lot planned for you… but we need to re-energize before we can do anything, love,” he replied simply, his voice low in your ear. He pulled off his gloves, cold fingers catching on your jaw as he turned your face to meet his. You whimpered as he leaned into you, and before you could make a single word, his lips claimed yours, cutting off any chance at a rebuttal.

You didn’t want to admit how good his mouth felt on yours, but you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that burst into your stomach as he kissed you— they were not the result of any foreign spell. Shinsou groaned as he watched Todoroki’s tongue slip into your mouth, actions getting more fervent as the dual-colored man’s fingers slipped around your head, cradling your face against his. His lips attacked yours, slotting against them and tongue wandering between the gaps. You gasped when something sharp pricked your bottom lip, automatically pulling back, your hand coming up to touch your lip.

Bright red stained your fingertip, and you looked between the evidence of your injury and the cause of the wound, eyes widening as you took in how dark Todoroki’s eyes had become, canines elongating into sharp fangs. Bewildered, you stayed frozen to the spot, unable to do anything yet again as his hand swiftly wrapped around your wrist, yanking your hand to his mouth and wrapping his lips around your finger. The feeling of his tongue swirling around the digit made heat flare in your core, even as terror began to pump through your veins. His other hand gripped your hip roughly, pulling your body flush unto his.

The desire to scream out in fear came quickly, but you found no sound came out of you when your mouth opened. Your head still turned to Todoroki, you didn’t anticipate Shinsou coming up in front of you, only noticing the other man when his tongue stroked across the tender skin on your neck. Your body stiffened as the wet muscle slid along your throat, your eyes wide and petrified.

“There you go, just relax...” Todoroki groaned, leaning in to suck on your broken lip, his tongue petting over the fresh wound gently. It stung, but at the same time it felt very intimate— something you had never done before that had that heat building in the pit of your stomach.

A set of fangs pricked your neck, Shinsou’s lips fluttering up toward your jaw. You loathed how soft they felt, a distinct contrast to the sharpened enamels that suddenly descended into your flesh. You cried out, unprepared for the searing pain that shot through your body. Your skin felt like it was throbbing, sizzling from the unwelcome heat and pain mixing together.

“Shhh, love,” Todoroki cooed, laying a gentle kiss on your open mouth. “It won’t hurt for long…” He continued to suckle on your lip, beautiful eyes staring deeply into yours as he cradled your face. The thin ring of iris around his blown pupils shone brightly in the low light of the flickering candles, brilliant aqua and stormy gray contrasting, mesmerizing you and momentarily taking you away from the pain of the fangs lodged in your throat.

Shinsou was moaning against your neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he took his fill from your bloodstream. His hands were gripping your waist tightly, fingers wandering up your back to curl your body closer to his embrace. You were so out of it, so lost in the taller man’s gaze, that you almost didn’t register the growing hardness pressing into your inner thigh. Shinsou was gently rutting against your leg, pressing his crotch onto you as he held your limp body with surprising care.

The sharp pain of his fangs in your neck had transformed into a dull throb, your body slowly numbing to his bite. It wasn’t long before Shinsou drew back, tongue roving over the flesh puncture marks that laid on your throat. His tongue hurt at first, but the second and third swipe of the strong, wet muscle felt increasingly good, and you hated how your thighs twitched together at the feeling. Apparently the two of them knew you would be experiencing this effect, for they both started to move you backwards, wandering closer to the bed.

You could hear Todoroki get onto the mattress before the pair of them maneuvered your body to join his, lifting you up and setting you down onto the plush comforter before him. His hands slid to your front, down your stomach and perched on your hips, pushing them back so your ass met his crotch. Your eyes went wide as you felt Todoroki’s erection poke into your ass, and Shinsou chuckled darkly as he, too, crawled onto the bed.

Although you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out, and the purple-haired vampire before you winked as the smirk on his lips only grew. There was still a trickle of your blood tainting the skin on his chin, and his fangs poked out as he grinned at you.

“You missed some,” Todoroki stated, voice a bit rougher than it had been downstairs. Your head turned to look at him, but you found his gaze was not focused on you— he was looking straight at Shinsou, eyes darkening and teeth elongating into points.

“Saved it for you, have a taste,” Shinsou replied nonchalantly, scooting closer to you. The space between the two men’s mouths closed and you gasped as you watched their lips collide, a moan tumbling out of the man supporting your back. That horrible heat burst between your legs, your mouth watering as you saw Todoroki’s tongue slips into Shinsou’s mouth, their fangs clicking as they brushed together.

Shinsou chuckled as he pulled back, Todoroki’s tongue wandering down to trace the line of your blood that streaked down his chin. Shinsou looked at you as he grinned, clearly happy that their kiss had such an effect on you. “You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, and you whimpered as heat burst in your cheeks.

It was shameful how much this was turning you on— a monster straight out of a fairytale was here in front of you, feeding off of you, able to end your life he re really wanted to in probably just one swift bite— and yet your pussy was drooling all over your panties for him, an uncomfortable dampness collecting between your thighs. You couldn’t stop your hips from wiggling, but as you moved back from Shinsou, you pressed up against Todoroki, who let out a throaty groan. The swell of your backside pushed against his hard cock just right, and you gasped as his hands suddenly jumped to the hem of your dress, pulling it to rest at the tops of your thighs. Your pussy twitched as the cool air rushed across your sticky panties, and you mewled as one hand drifted up to squeeze your breast, the other slapping gently over your panty-covered clit.

Shinsou’s hands glided down your waist, large palms running over your hips before he grabbed your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the mattress as he fell to his knees. Kneeling between your legs, he chucked again as he inspected the wet patch on darkening the front of your underwear. His thumb met your slit and he traced it up and down a few times, grin splitting his smirk as you unintentionally let out a moan.

It was then that Todoroki’s fangs sliced into the unmarked flesh on the other side of your neck. You cried out, the pain just as stringing and intense as Shinsou’s bite had delivered. But you weren’t left to focus on it long— Shinsou pulled your underwear to the side and dipped a thumb into your soaking folds, rubbing up the length of your slit once again. The direct contact made your toes curl, your slick folds parting with ease as the ample evidence of your arousal allowed his finger to glide through without catch. He hummed as he rubbed his thumb against your clit a few times, violet eyes flicking up to see your eyelashes fluttering across your cheeks, Todoroki’s lips latched to your throat as he took his fill from your sweet bloodstream.

Todoroki’s fingers curled into the top of your dress, and he pulled it down to reveal your tits to the cool air, your nipples instantly perking up and standing at attention. The red and white haired man moaned as he sucked on your throat, his forefinger and thumbs capturing each nipple and twisting the sensitive buds.

“Fuck!” you whined, immediately embarrassed that you hadn’t been able to hold the expletive in. But neither of the men seemed to share your sentiment, the pair of them moaning softly in response to your noise of pleasure as if encouraging you to let out even more.

Shinsou smiled as he pinched the sides of your panties, yanking the material down your thighs and off your ankles before separating your legs and inserting himself between them. He gave you no warning as his tongue suddenly licked a flat stripe up your slit, rolling around your clit perfectly at the end of his journey. Your legs tensed as they closed around his head, a hot puff of air escaping you as Todoroki finally pulled off of your neck with a broken gasp. His breathing was ragged as his tongue lashed over the fresh marks, the repeated action having the same, dizzying sensation that Shinsou had elicited. Then Shinsou’s tongue was wiggling across your clit, alternating between sucking on the sensitive pearl and lavishing it in vicious swipes of his strong, wet tongue.

Meanwhile Todoroki was ripping off his clothes, revealing his broad, sturdy chest in all its glory before he yanked at the zipper on your spine, sliding your dress over your shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Your bra was next, leaving you in just your sparkly heels and your glimmering gems.

You could feel both pairs of eyes inspecting your naked body, Todorki’s hands returning to tweak at your nipples while Shinsou thrusted his tongue inside your quivering hole. He moaned as his tongue probed at your insides, sending vibrations through your core and causing your legs to tighten around his head. Pleasure was coursing through you, overwhelming the urge to scream and run that had been all you could focus on just minutes ago. But your pussy was dripping for the both of them, and Shinsou was savoring every drop as he animatedly lapped at you— never before had anyone so enthusiastically eaten your cunt like this, and his zeal only made you leak onto his mouth even more.

You had been so focused on the man in between your legs that you only recognized Todoroki had fully unclothed himself when he moved backward, easing your head back so you lay flat on the mattress. Your pussy twitched violently on Shinsou’s tongue when you caught sight of Todoroki’s cock standing long and thick, tall against his carved abdomen, his expression dark as he shuffled forward.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he instructed and you obeyed immediately, as if you couldn’t follow his instruction any faster. Your eagerness made him smirk, and you made sure to keep eye contact as he rubbed the tip of his heavy cock against your sealed lips. But suddenly Shinsou started to attack your clit with new fervor, tongue flicking across the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

You couldn’t stop the moan that flew out of you, and as soon as your mouth was open, Todoroki pushed forward, shoving his cock deep into your mouth. You choked at the sudden intrusion, but he only grabbed your throat with one hand and thrust into your mouth even rougher than before. He didn’t seem to care much about your comfort, your heartbeat skyrocketing as the need for oxygen started burning in your lungs.

Todoroki pulled his cock out just in time for you to gasp in a few breaths before he rammed his cock back inside, powerful thighs pinning your head to the mattress as he leaned forward with hands on either side of your waist and head hung while he uttered a quiet moan. “That’s right, love. Go ahead and suck my cock… I want to hear you choke on me, naughty little thing.”

A wanton moan slipped out of you, his cock filling your throat to the max, and his rough, determined thrusts causing your pussy to flood even more. Shinsou was still licking at your cunt purposefully, tongue sliding around your folds and over your clit as he sucked and flicked it to your liking. You started to become more vocal as pressure began to build in your stomach, your hips writhing wildly underneath his pinning grip as Todoroki used your mouth to his liking. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your high approaching, unaware of Shinsou slowly but steadily undressing himself while he suckled at your puffy folds.

Todoroki’s thrusts became slower but deeper suddenly, and you swirled your tongue around his swollen tip when his hips receded. You were caught off guard when Shinsou’s lips left your cunt and instead his teeth sunk into the soft skin on your thigh, taking another sampling from your veins. This time, the initial pain was much duller, and it quickly faded into something concerningly pleasurable. There must have been some higher-level effect at play here— there was no way that such gleaming fangs stabbing into you and feeding from you should feel that good. Yet it undoubtedly made your toes curl, bliss spreading through your body like wildfire through dry grass. It only increased when a long finger slipped inside of you, a second entering with ease as they began rubbing inside of you gently. You could feel Shinsou moan into your pillowy thigh, the noise only making your cunt itch for his attention again.

You let out a desolate whine when both of the men suddenly pulled away from you, your pussy hotter and wetter than ever, and your cheeks dribbling with your saliva as a result of Todoroki’s face-fucking. It was then that you realized Shinsou was naked, too, your mouth watering at his visage; his cock stood thicker and shorter than Todoroki’s, but both of them were punching well above average, muc to your delight.

Todoroki slipped off the mattress and Shinsou walked around the edge of the bed, the pair switching and settling in reverse positions. Shinsou stroked your cheek sweetly, capturing your attention as he smiled down at you. You craned your neck to press a kiss to the leaking tip of him, your tongue poking out to swipe the salty bead of pre-cum that lay there. Your eyes went wide when you felt the telltale smoothness of Todoroki’s cock splitting your slick-drenched folds, his hands settling on your hips before he grabbed them, rutting his own forward and causing his cock to push halfway into your tight hole. The stretch made the both of you gasp, your wet, little hole hugging his large cock snug as he began to move his hips.

Shinsou had enjoyed the intimate moment but found himself getting impatient, slapping his thick, oozing cockhead over your lips to grab your attention once again. You looked up at him with wide, starry eyes, your mouth opening for him to glide his cock into your mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured, eyes fixating on the way your lips wrapped around his girth, the way his thick veins looked rolling against your tongue. Your cheeks hollowed in attempt to satiate him, but you instantly cried out when Todoroki’s hips slapped flush against yours, shoving his cock inside of your cunt entirely.

The impossible fullness that bloomed in your stomach was delectable, and Todoroki began to thrust into your slippery cunt at a reliable, hard pace. He let out a guttural groan as he watched his cock disappear into your slick folds, the heat of your pussy overwhelming him. He lifted both your legs over his shoulders, making sure to grab one of your ankles and pulling it upright so your leg was fully extended. Then, his fangs broke the smooth skin on your calf and you whimpered at the feeling. It felt so good to have him suck on your skin— to feel your blood flowing out of your body and into his eager mouth. It was sick, but you couldn’t think about it at the moment— couldn’t find any fault with the two monsters that were taking you to cloud nine.

“Fuck, just like that,” Shinsou mumbled, eyes flicking up to watch a rivulet of your blood strike down your outstretched leg. When he looked back down towards you, your eyes were closed and your brow scrunched, an indication of the pleasure that was ebbing through your body thanks to the cadenced swing of Todoroki’s hips. “You’re such a good fucking girl,” Shinsou praised as he threw back his head, his fingers carding through your hair and tugging gently at your roots.

Just as the three of you seemed to find a rhythm, Todoroki pulled out abruptly, making your mouth part in a whine, Shinsou’s thick member springing out of your wet cavern and into the cool, still air. The purple-haired man hissed in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he looked to the other man to scold him, but quickly his irritation melted as he watched Todoroki flip you so your stomach lay flat on the sheets. Then, he hiked your ass into the air, your body moving along with him with such cooperation that the pair of them shared a look, haughty smirks stretching on both their lips. It was their secret that they had stopped using their mind control on you, and it seemed you were the only one that continued, blissfully unaware. Perhaps you didn’t even realize… perhaps you didn’t care.

It didn’t matter, really— Todoroki lined himself up with your dripping cunt, taking no pause this time as his cock speared inside you once again. You moaned as you reeled forward, your fingers gripping into the duvet harshly as your body tightened up from the delicious intrusion. His long, thick cock felt like magic inside of you, each thrust brushing a soft spot nestled deep inside of you and stimulating you further.

Shinsou jerked himself off lazily as he watched your facial expressions, trapping his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he registered the erotic ecstasy painted across your beautiful features. After a minute of allowing you to focus his accomplice’s hard cock, he pressed the tip of his own to your lips. You immediately opened your mouth, taking the flushed member between your lips with restless reception, tongue rolling around the swollen head. Shinsou sighed, half-lidded lavender irises watching you begin to eagerly bob up and down his length. He thumbed over a drop of blood that had rolled down your throat, catching Todoroki’s eye and offering his finger to the other man, who happily took the digit into his mouth and sucked, tongue soaking up your life essence as his hand wrapped around Shinsou’s wrist to steady himself. They both chuckled as you moaned loudly, Todoroki’s free hand clapping across your ass cheek and causing your cunt to clench down on his cock.

“You like that?” he teased, grabbing your flesh and shaking it, watching your ass jiggle before striking you again, a few smacks in succession. You could only gag and moan in reply, Shinsou’s cock thrusting into the back of your throat. The purple-eyed vampire gripped your chin with his calloused, cold hand, keeping your head in place as he began to fuck your face. Suddenly Todoroki spat onto your behind, his saliva wetting your puckered hole before he shoved his thumb inside of your ass, the unexpected stretch sending fresh bliss through your body as his cock dragged against it through your walls. Tears were beading on your lashes, the combination of the lack of oxygen, the attack of your g-spot from Todoroki’s cock, and the sharp pain of his hand across your ass all sending you hurtling towards your high.

With a shriek you came on his cock, your cunt wringing snug around the heavy member that just kept pistoning into you, angling your hips so the head pounding into that sensitive, spongy spot again and again. Todoroki groaned, taking his finger out and both his hands now squeezing at your hips as he continued to fuck you, offering a few more slaps to your ass as you trembled in ecstasy. While your head was still filled with the euphoric fog of your climax, Shinsou pulled out of your mouth, nodding to Todoroki, who wordlessly understood. The mismatched vampire hooked his arms around your knees, heaving you up against his chest and spreading your legs far apart enough for Shinsou to slide between them.

You were still catching your breath as Shinsou reached for Todoroki’s cock, slotting his thighs between the other man’s and positioning his length so that his slick-covered head rested right at your asshole. You gasped, your arm bending to dig your nails into Todoroki’s shoulder as you looked behind at him, catching his lustful gaze down at you. Shinsou then began to sloppily kiss your throat, his cock rubbing against your glazed, ravaged opening as his hands ran across the curve of your ass, landing on Todoroki’s waist behind your hips. The both of them entered you at the same time, your vision dotting with white spots as the stretch from both sides took your breath away. They both managed to slip inside, fully seating you onto their laps as you trembled, your stiff nipples brushing against Shinsou’s toned chest.

Todoroki nibbled at your ear as he began to pump his cock inside of you, filling your ass with each thrust and stimulating you as he rubbed himself against Shinsou’s cock through your walls. “So tight, love…,” he murmured in your ear, the prick of his sharp fangs on your cartilage sending shivers down your spine. His tongue wandered out and he traced the tip of it against the column of your throat, brushing over the leaking puncture wounds that laid there. “So sweet… can’t help myself,” his words turned into a savage moan as he sunk his fangs into your skin, the pain washing away abruptly as Shinsou, too, started to push his hips into yours.

Shinsou groaned, one hand coming to caress your chin as he claimed your lips with his own. His tongue entered your mouth and wrestled with yours as his tempo began to pick up, his cock stretching your cunt wide and sending waves of pleasure through your core. When he pulled back, you were both panting, your breasts heaving with the rapid rise and fall of your chest. It was then that Todoroki pulled away from your neck, gasping in a breath of air as his fangs glistened scarlet. Shinsou took one look at him and crushed his mouth to his, your holes clenching around their lengths as you watched your blood be exchanged between their ravenous tongues. The pair of them were moaning, and so were you— unable to keep the noises of pure pleasure inside as you watched them make out.

Your blood was dripping down Todoroki’s chin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over and grabbing his jaw, ripping his lips away from Shinsou’s and instead placing your mouth on his. He growled in approval against your lips, his tongue battling yours as he sought to dominate you, the distinct flavor of iron filling your mouth as you tasted your own blood. Shinsou took the opportunity to sink his cuspids into the other side of your throat again, and your jaw fell in response, Todoroki’s tongue seizing control of yours immediately as he grasped the upper hand. Both of them were full-on fucking you now, your holes warm and wet, quivering around their thick cocks as the brought you closer and closer to your high yet again.

Only the sound of your heavy breathing and the slapping of your skins filled the air in the room, the music of the party drowned and far away as the three of you were otherwise occupied. Before you knew it, you were clenching on them again, your body seizing as your orgasm ripped through you, all the air in your lungs vacuumed out of you and your toes curling into the air. Your fingers fisted Shinsou’s wild violet locks, your nails digging into Todoroki’s jaw as you tumbled through the throes of your climax, euphoria rushing through your bloodstream and straight into Shinsou’s awaiting mouth.

The sweet taste of your oxytocin, your drug-like ecstasy, sent him straight into his own orgasm, his hips pushing flush against yours as he roared and his cock spurted thick white ribbons deep into your womb, his seed pouring into you and filling you to the brim. His chiseled body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you, his fingers bruising your skin while he gasped and moaned. Your holes clenched as you milked his cock, and suddenly Todoroki, too, groaned loudly behind you. His hands squeezed your flesh as his cock spurted hot cum inside of you, his abdomen flush against your ass as he crushed your body to his front.

The three of you sat there on the bed, your bodies covered in sweat and remnants of your blood, breathless and still as you came back down to earth. Shinsou’s lips trailed along your neck, Todoroki’s fingertips sliding across your skin with gentle care as they pulled out of you. Their seed dribbled down your thighs as they maneuvered your boneless body back onto the pillows, your eyes fluttering closed from the pure exhaustion and the lack of blood in your veins. Each of them laid back on either side of you, their cold hands wandering over your skin and causing goosebumps to rise, their eyes roaming your body in pure adoration.

“You did so well, baby,” Shinsou murmured into your hair, pressing his face close to yours as he sighed and inhaled the sweet scent lingering from the blood on your skin.

“So well-behaved for us,” Todoroki added, wrapping an arm around your middle as he, too, nestled closer to your limp body. “Go to sleep, love… you deserve some rest.”

You hummed at their praise, tired butterflies flapping their wings in the pit of your stomach. Your head was fuzzier than ever, bliss weighing heavy in your bones as your breathing steadied. Filled with post-orgasmic content, the idea of fleeing that seemed so wonderful just an hour ago now sounded distasteful, your body comfortable lying on the silken sheets, pressed between your two lovers. As you faded into a blissful sleep, you could hear the pair talking lowly, making plans to keep you here with them in hushed voices.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

so sorry if that was rushed at the end!! hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween!! be safe out there <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #shinsou hitoshi smut #shinso hitoshi smut #todoroki shouto fic #todoroki shoto fic #shinsou hitoshi fic #shinso hitoshi fic #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #my fics

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midseo · 1 year ago

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sanstropfremir · 4 years ago

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kingdom episode 3 baby!!!!

listen. i’m not gonna lie i was nervous as hell for this episode. i saw that preview like everyone else and unfortunately i have ears so i was convinced the ateez stage was going to be a trainwreck. i was absolutely banking on sf9 and skz to do something even mildy interesting to save me from the ear damage and having to talk to extensively about why that disaster happened. but somehow i woke up in an alternate universe and you know what? with the exception of that high note the ateez stage fucked. i know. i don’t believe it either. i think i’m still in shock.

i’ll do individual breakdowns in order of favourites within the episode and then at the end i’ll put my personal ranking of all six. thank god i don’t have to do a stage breakdown again; if they change it again for next week i will scream.

ateez

a miracle happened. i don’t have to fight any of the staff at kq. i don’t understand either. jongho is so fucking lucky that the rest of the group pulled all that energy out of their asses because if they had been even a single iota less serious about it that stage would have flopped worse than a dead fish. i can’t believe we got this level of camp b movie schlock in the first full stage, and they stuck the landing. incredible.

fine i’ll address the elephant in the room. personally, i don’t think jongho is that good of a vocalist. he’s not bad, and he does have the potential to be a good vocalist, he just doesn’t have the training, and this is the issue with all of ateez. hanya talked about this before and i’ll say it again: he can’t switch to his head voice and he’s destroying his vocal cords by attempting to hit notes in his mid range that he should just jump to head voice for. frankly i’m surprised he got anywhere close to that note in his mid, but his technique is just not there and he’s gonna do some real damage to his voice if he doesn’t take a break and also get a good vocal coach. you can already hear the degradation in sound from their debut stage to now, and that’s in less than three years. ok i’m done talking about vocals that’s hanya’s turf, i’m pretending that that high note doesn’t exist and we’re moving on. also im in love with btob’s reaction it was fucking priceless.

costume

look, i have a one track brain and that brain can only think about seonghwa corset. seonghwa corset? seonghwa corset.

i know it’s not a real corset nor is it properly laced and i know this would never happen in a million years but a kpop mr pearl trend? i would die. just fully expire. there’s no coming back from that for me

yes i have laced boys into proper corsets before and yes it is as hot as you think it is (when it’s not work related, obviously)

ok now that i’ve got that out of my system for the moment, the costumes are actually pretty good. i’m a little obsessed with hongjoong’s coat although I know it’s stupid. fur? always, I love it, you’ll never change my mind it makes everything better. i own a lot of it and i wear it all the time. this is also a pretty good example of how to do a more modern styling within a very specific and recognizable genre.

i don’t hate the backup dancers’ costumes either, even though they would look a lot better in a not-pirate themed hiphop stage. because there is already a modern tint with the boys’ costumes, it’s not that much of a leap to the dancers, and they actually use the dancers and the camera really strategically to not put much focus on them.

the only real standout issue is the blacklight/contortionist moment, which is too gimmicky for me and doesn’t fit the rest of the theme. i do understand the purpose of them: you need a transition point from the upper deck to the more fantastical inner ship area, and blacklight paint is a really easy, cheap, and fast way to get four new costumes instantly. do i think they could have done something better though? yes.

set

this was actually a smart reuse of that pirate ship set. i know i clowned on them in the first stage that they could move on from the pirate gimmick but honestly? i’m glad they didn’t. this was fun as fuck. but also two stages was enough you can move on now.

i love how they actually used the weird double stage function that the false prosc creates for an actual architectural and narrative effect, instead of just sort of operating as though it’s just another place to travel just because you can. we are on the deck of the ship, and then we go inside the ship. it’s simple and effective. you don’t need to do a crazy amount of crossover to establish a dynamic sense of place.

i hate the ateez kingdom logo. i hate the ateez logo in general. get it out of there, at least you could have made something more fun and pirate themed.

would have loved to have seen them return to the hourglass at the end, especially if they got one that was specifically set for 4 minutes. would have been a nice bit of symmetry but i suspect it was struck before the kraken bit.

the kraken bit??? i was not at all expecting that and honestly? dope as hell. that big tentacle is just a custom inflatable santa claus that you see around christmastime and what a brilliant use of such a simple mechanic, especially to have it come through that weird little triangle arch they have upstage. smart way to use the existing architecture.

yes it is a gimmick but here’s why it works rather than just looks tacky like every other gimmick we’ve seen so far: it had a function within the narrative. this is so important. show us there’s a reason it’s there!

lighting

i didn’t love it but they did actually make some smart choices. the outer deck is warmer toned and has some good atmospheric effects, and the inner deck is cold tone and specifically lit with pin lights to imitate the light coming through portholes in an actual ship, which is so smart thank you lighting designer

also a very clear arc with the lighting, blue -> orange -> blue/red -> orange/multiple -> blue

sound

i actually kinda liked this remix? it fit theme and had a very clear dramatic arc. also i like wonderland, so sue me.

staging

WE DID IT, WE FINALLY GOT A CLEAR NARRATIVE FROM AT LEAST ONE GROUP! wonderland was actually a great choice for them because it’s a really good indicator of exactly how hungry they are. i was a bit worried that it would fall flat because it kinda rides on mingi but they actually pulled it off. i have literally no idea where they pulled all that energy from but holy shit you can practically lick the attitude off the screen. i’m also very impressed by the amount of information they managed to fit into that four minute narrative. we had a full conflict/climax/resolution, as well as a really clear understanding of the tenacity and drive of the group, as well as the desire to support one another in achieving their goals. bravo.

ok so like i said in the set section, they used that pirate ship bridge really effectively to create two different but connected spaces. this is a really smart way to make it seem like you have two spaces while having to only build one set. it was also one of the best ways to utilize this dumbass stage so it doesn’t just look like you’re running arbitrarily from area to area because you can.

also levels! levels are so important for staging but also hard to do in this context because you have to be able to move really quickly in and out of full group formation, but I think they did a really good job here.

continued point: the kraken arm worked because it was the conflict they needed to overcome in the narrative, so it had a function within the performance. also related: all the tricking and jumping also served a purpose within the narrative too. it was either used for fighting (yeosang kicking all those dancers on beat) or a demonstration of teamwork (jongho flinging yunho around on the floor). also frankly excellent use of choreographic formation with the backup dancers, each formation had a specific function and was meant to highlight ateez without being overbearing.

not a whole lot of camera choreo, but a fairly good long take at the beginning and the editing wasn’t too obnoxious which I think was more chance than intent, but i’m not gonna look a gift kraken in the beak.

sf9

i actually really liked this stage, and i really like that sf9 has established their colour as effortlessly elegant, which does set them apart from the rest of the groups. this stage was really choreographically complex and they made it seem so easy, so real props to them. however, like with ikon’s stage, there were a lot of good ideas that just weren’t followed through enough for me.

like ateez, song choice and theme were very well intertwined with this one, there was a lot of thought put into this stage. the pun with ‘jealous’ and ‘jilleosseo’ and having a fairytale/magic mirror narrative? fuckin GALAXY BRAINED. incredible. the implication that not only taeyang but the entire group is the evil queen from snow white? chef’s kiss. should have committed harder and put one of them in massive cloak à la king taemin mama 2020. instead it was subtle enough to not try to step on ateez’s schlocky camp toes but still just as serious and i love that. do i wish they pushed it farther though? also yes.

costume

not gonna lie, i had my reservations on the costumes when we saw the previews of them in the waiting room, but the thing about stage costumes is that they always look bad when not on stage. if they look good in the waiting room you’ve done something wrong. and i loved them on stage. big fan of that quilted vest/pseudo stomacher. please can we have a corset trend? y’all already adopted bondage harnesses, c’mon a little corset won’t hurt. also a good example of a modern spin on a recognizable genre.

i wish the backup dancers weren’t in all black but i am fighting single person battle against the entire entertainment industry on that one.

set

extremely simple with a few smart utilizations. had a feeling this might have been a budget thing, as it had a similar kind of vibe with ikon’s stage, but the use of the mirrors was smart and a fun device that served the purpose of the narrative.

working with mirrors on stage is really fucking hard, so kudos to them for giving it a go. for the most part it was pretty effective. especially with the combo of moving mirrors and moving lights AND moving camera, you’re kind of asking to either blind your audience or at least give them a headache. i once saw a production of the magic flute that had a rotating mirror setpiece and i swear i nearly went blind due to the constantly flashing reflections. you have to really be careful with directionality and reflection, especially with the added element of a camera. also you never use real glass mirrors on stage, it is unbelievably bad luck and theatre people are the most superstitious demographic on the fucking planet.

i kinda loved the draped gold dais. i have nothing else to say about it other than fun!

lighting

a lot of this was very weirdly lit and i’m not sure why. the quality on youtube is terrible and cameras already have trouble picking up detail in low light, and throwing a whole bunch of primary red over that (the colour with the longest wavelength and therefore disappears the easiest in the dark. also human eyes are not very good at distinguishing variations in the red spectrum) and the red costumes made it extremely difficult to tell what was happening.

i will give them props for dramatic lighting usage, especially for the two way mirror trick and for using the floor as a primary lighting source at the end, which i think groups should be using more of. how often do you have a lighting source in your floor!!! almost never!! use that opportunity!!

sound

i actually enjoyed this remix too. it was well suited to the dramatic nature of the stage. i think the sound byte at the beginning is ‘mirror mirror on the wall who’s the worthiest of them all’ but it also could be ‘who’s the worst of them all’ and that would be also fitting and kinda funny.

staging

again, not a lot of consideration for camera choreo in a meaningful way, and like the tbz stage I think the clarity in the actual choreo got hampered by the editing. because there was a lot of choreographic precision that went into making this work and it wasn’t totally obvious from the way mnet edited it.

a lot of them are actors so it works that they’re leaning more towards dramatic stages rather than the sort of performance type stages we’ve seen so far. i like this choice for them as it gives them a very obvious colour but they’re almost on the verge of making it look too easy, which does them some injustice.

next to ateez, using that long uninterrupted traverse was my favourite use of this stage. doubles as an easy way to build the atmosphere of a palace corridor/throne room with the rug, and to feed the drama of the piece.

skz

ok i have some…..things to say about this stage. so far i have not been kind to skz which makes me look like i hate them and i don’t, i promise. there were a lot of really interesting things happening in this stage and there some really successful ones, and i liked this a whole lot better than their intro stage, but their overall choreo and thematic dedication is really killing me. i’ll explain.

costume

I don’t hate them but also…….why? I got the good self vs evil self/internal struggle theme but the costumes don’t really have anything interesting to say about that. as far as modern style costuming goes i think they’re on the more interesting end, but they don’t push it far enough. there’s a few western art history visual motifs and honestly? they should have gone whole hog and whited out their faces/hair and made them look like classical sculptures. that would have been hella fun, especially with that little statue and marionette sequence, plus the shadow/leash manipulation.

this time it was actually intentional that the backup dancers were in blacks and i appreciate that.

why on EARTH did they have that ridiculous makeup that didn’t read on stage? theatre makeup and tv makeup are different, you can’t just do a light purple eyeshadow and expect to read under blue and red light. someone needs to bring an actual theatre makeup artist in and get these boys in some real crazy looks. see previous point about full-face white pancake. more extreme makeup please and thank you!

set

i liked the use of internal architecture within this massive weird stage space and they used the corridors quite well. i didn’t really like the mix of baroque scrolling and also graffiti, it wasn’t quite connected for me. this has been a common theme among this round and i think it comes from budget/props pulls rather than anything else.

also there was a distinct feeling of trying to fill the main stage space with bodies as opposed to atmosphere. this can work in some specific cases but the intent wasn’t strong enough for me. it just felt like a lot of people on stage, especially in the end choreo.

lighting

the general lighting was fine but not particularly inspired. the low light in the beginning was actually quite well done, especially combined with the fog, but in my opinion was not dramatic enough. you have a pseudo art history theme happening, pump that contrast and push the chiaroscuro!

ok stay with me, i’m gonna say something extremely controversial that might actually get me cancelled. s*per j*unior’s burn the floor did everything this stage was trying to do on a smaller scale and better. look i know ok, this is a like, a double atom bomb hot take. just forget everything you know about them and watch the performance video. tell me that’s not some of the most interesting choreo you’ve seen in kpop. if you’re going to work with practical light you need to COMMIT. not just steal the solar lanterns out of my mom’s back garden.

i have a lot of opinions on using practical light and alternate light sources in performance because it’s a huge part of my practice and this just....wasn’t interesting enough for me. push it further!

(I will wait for the subs on the full episode because there has to be a reason they chose that specific shape of lamp. if not i gotta ask jyp why he’s raiding my mom’s garden)

sound

god’s menu has such specific imagery associated within the lyrics and choreography that this stage was a bit dissonant for me. especially when seen in conjunction with two stages where the narrative was tied explicitly to the lyrics of the songs. i think maybe if it hadn’t been grouped with these other two stages i would have felt differently. the other groups chose to do songs were a little more abstract and allowed for more visual experimentation, but to go so blatantly against the food metaphor didn’t really work for me and i had a tough time divorcing the association. I found the arrangement to be a little lacking in energy for me towards the end but otherwise it was pretty interesting.

staging

Definitely a better performance overall that the intro stage. almost all of the gimmicks this time had relevance to the theme which i appreciated. the marionette bit and the shadow/mirror were probably the most interesting but i wish they were better lit.

there was a lot of back and forth in the blocking that made the stage feel repetitive and also aimless? like there wasn’t a very clearly established directionality within the internal space, so it felt like treading over the same ground for no purposeful reason. and again, not a lot of intentional camerawork.

i really liked having the dancers under the big sheet, it fit well enough within the ‘war between internal selves’ theme, but also had a loose tie to the art imagery. again, i really wish they had stuck to a clearer visual theme. it makes them stick out especially in this grouping of stages, but also across all the groups as whole because almost everyone had a clear(ish) visual idea.

holy shit that’s a lot of backup dancers. i don’t really feel like that many were necessary and the sheer number of them took away from the emphasis of the group. with all of the other stages (except for tbz) it was very clear who the centre of attention and emphasis was, and with both skz and tbz they got swallowed by the sheer scale they were trying to operate at. bigger is not always better.

---

this is a tough round to rank because none of these stages are bad, there’s just some that are, in my opinion, more successful than others. all of these stages do very well in specific elements but fall short in others which also makes this ranking difficult. i’m evaluating these based on whether they were successful to me, as i’m pretty sure this ranking will probably not all be popular opinion, but whatever i like to live on the edge.

btob – visuals, vocals, narrative, swords? what more do you want me to say? also i watched the full episode and minhyuk did rehearsal with a real bokken and i think i am in love with him now.

ateez – honestly not sure if i would have ranked this first if that high note hadn’t been a mess. i love camp nonsense and i genuinely think this was a well designed stage. i can’t believe i keep saying that but it’s true.

sf9 – this stage was really solid, just could have been pushed farther. i think it has a really good sense of drama and it’s a pity that sf9’s colour is more subdued, because i think they’re going to be stuck around the 3rd/4th position for the rest of the show.

ikon – ikon is only ranking this high because although i am disappointed in the wasted potential of this stage, they NAILED the camerawork and actually brought in someone to block the steadicam into the choreo. also they’re incredible performers. i say this every time, but their stage presence, although maybe lower energy that they normally would be, is still not to be fucked with.

skz – i think this one is the most ‘meh’ for me. while i liked a lot of the elements here they just didn’t push it far enough and the lack of narrative and general aimless choreo led to me not having any strong feelings yea or nay.

tbz – to be quite honest the lack of costume unity is a big hit for me. all elements of design are equally as important but because of my personal practice and experience i tend to put a lot of weight on good costume and spatial design. i don’t actually like game of thrones also, so I feel mildly offended on behalf of michele clapton, who had did a fucking incredible job and doesn’t deserve to be slandered like this. also the lack of cohesive choreography and the overblown lighting made this difficult to watch, no matter how good i thought the rear projection/stretch fabric dance was.

any questions or opinions you wanna share hit me up! see you next week!

#im ready for the angry asks about that s*ju opinion because that is a spicy one #kingdom #kingdom review #kpop analysis #im so surprised by these stages i cant believe ateez stuck the landing #i saw the preview for next week also and the new round looks wild so im ready #text

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themanicmagician · 5 years ago

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Shipwrecked [3/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

“What is this supposed to be?”

Tom eyed the frilly cocktail Redd had pushed into his hand. It was a swirl of blue and seafoam green, complete with a tiny toothpick umbrella spearing a pineapple wedge.

“Vacation Juice.”

“But we’re not on a—”

“It’s just a name. You’ll like it, trust me.”

Tom took a small sip. It tasted like pears. Very, very sugary pears. He couldn’t even taste the alcohol. As he took a second, larger sip, Redd said: “Told you you’d like it.”

Tom rolled his eyes, not gracing Redd with a response. He swallowed another mouthful of the “juice” as he glanced around the bar. It wasn’t one of their typical haunts. Drinking out in the city was always expensive, so they tended towards establishments with long, generous happy hours, and cheap brews to go along with. The bar they were in now—Tom had already forgotten the name—was a touch fancier. The drinks were all cocktails with themed names. The drinks were served in small portions, and the prices were obscene, but they were celebrating, after all. They could splurge, just a little, just tonight.

The bar was miraculously uncrowded. Tom and Redd had even managed to secure a corner table all for themselves. The lighting was dim, intimate. They were surrounded mostly by other couples, each pair focused on each other rather than a game on TV.

This was Tom’s third drink in under an hour, and he was getting to that pleasant, loose phase of drunkenness. He watched Redd swallow, observed the slow bob of his throat as he drank. He was struck by a bolt of desire. He wanted to trace the movement with his tongue. Tom shifted on his stool.

Redd’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. His cool demeanor slipped, his eyes widened in alarm.

“It’s the landlord for the building!” He told Tom before he hurriedly took the call. “Hi! Phil, how’s it going? No, no it’s not a bad time at all.”

Redd hunched down, pressing the phone close to his ear to listen over the booming music.

“...Really? Oh—Oh no, that’s not a problem at all.”

Redd’s expression twisted briefly in distress. Tom’s stomach lurched with sudden, strong anxiety. What was the landlord saying? It was maddening, only being able to hear half of the conversation. He leaned closer, but could barely hear the tinny voice coming from Redd’s phone.

“Of course. I’ll get it to you tonight. Yes. You too. Ciao.”

Redd hung up, and sighed. When he didn’t immediately launch into an explanation, Tom blurted: “Well?”

Redd combed a paw through the fur on his head with agitation. It made his sleek fur stick up at odd angles, but Redd didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“The landlord, he got another offer on the store. Says if we still want it we’ll have to pay the first six months—up front.”

Tom swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He downed the rest of his Vacation Juice.

“I have some money put away, but not nearly enough for all that time.” Redd frowned. “But if I don’t get it to him tonight, we lose the place.”

“Well, how much is six months’ rent?”

“Everything included—all the fees, insurance, utilities and everything—it’ll be 200,000 bells. And I already went and spent most of my money getting us the stock. I can’t get a refund now.” He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “We’ll have all this furniture and nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you need?”

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Redd. We’re partners, right? How much do you need?”

The fox shifted on his stool.

“...It’s too much to ask of you.” Redd mumbled, eventually.

“Redd.”

“Fine, fine. I only have about 15k bells left in my account right now.”

Tom brought out his own phone. It took a few clumsy tries for him to unlock it. He had just enough in his account to cover the remainder, built up from the months of pitching and selling ideas to businesses. This would drain nearly all of Tom’s savings, but it was an investment. It was worth it. Besides, they’d make it up and then some when their store opened.

“I can transfer it over right now.” Tom smiled. “Though I’m afraid we’ll have to switch to ramen and tap water for a while.”

“I could kiss you.” Redd said.

“What’s stopping you?”

After a sloppy kiss that tasted of pears and apples, Tom drained his account for the deposit. Redd called Phil back to confirm the transfer was a success. Once the landlord confirmed, Redd pulled Tom from the bar, hand in hand. They couldn’t really afford to buy more fancy cocktails, but there was a full bottle of sake at home, calling their name.

~*~

Tom awoke with a thunderous headache. He groaned, pinching two fingers to the ridge of his nose. He warily opened his eyes a few centimeters, then slammed them shut again. Nausea churned in his gut. He took a moment to just lay there, and prayed for his insides to stop revolting. How much had they had to drink last night? It was a blur. Tom had been feeling buzzed already from the cocktails and then the sake had gone and punched straight holes through his memory. He remembered snatches of moments, of sensations. Raking his paws through Redd’s fur, feeling the corded muscles beneath as they shifted. The sweet taste of Redd’s mouth on his, the triumph of finally marking up that exposed throat. The way that Redd, always so perfect and composed, became a stuttering, breathy mess as they made love. Then, a whole lot of nothing.

“Redd?” Tom moaned feebly. The fox handled his liquor a thousand times better than he did. He could entreat his partner to get up and fetch him some water. He flailed out blindly, reaching, but his hand encountered no fox.

Tom opened his eyes again, with heavy reluctance. He was alone in the bed. He swept his paw over the sheets. They were cool.

Tom spilled clumsily over the side of the bed to reach his pants, which were in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor. He rooted around in his pockets until he found his phone. The time blared at him, like a condemnation: 10:05 a.m. For someone that normally got up for the day at 6, it was sacrilege.

Standing upright was a mistake. Dizziness and nausea slammed into him immediately. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was puking. He hadn’t really had much to eat yesterday, so all that came up was stringy bile. He flushed the mess down and rested his head for a minute against the cool bathroom cabinet.

He was surprised Redd hadn’t come to investigate, considering the amount of noise Tom was making.

“Redd?” He croaked.

There was no reply.

Tom sat for a moment more, until he was certain he wouldn’t neat the toilet again. He levered himself upright, bracing himself on the sink.

He shuffled out of the bathroom, and went into the area comprised of their kitchenette and living room. Redd was still nowhere to be found. And there was something...off. It took him a moment, and then he realized: Redd’s stuff was missing. His artwork that’d been scattered around, his books, they were gone. Tom checked their bedroom. Tom’s things were neatly folded in the drawers, but there was an empty gap where Redd’s clothes had once been.

Had something happened to Redd? Heart pounding with confusion and fear, he dialed Redd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. He called again; same result.

After the beep, he left a message, his voice audibly shaky. “H-Hey, it’s Tom. Call me when you get this, alright? Let me know you’re okay.”

Tom returned to the living room, and paced anxiously until his attention was caught by a white envelope. It was resting on the floor, by the front door. Someone must have slipped it underneath.

The envelope was addressed to Redd, but Tom broke the seal anyway, hoping whatever was inside would provide answers.

Inside was a final eviction notice.

According to it, Redd was three months past due on rent, and had until the end of the week to move out his stuff before it was thrown out by management.

Tom was breathing fast, now. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. This didn’t make sense. Redd had afforded this apartment for years before Tom had moved in. And as soon as Tom began making money he contributed half of the rent. He gave the bells over to Redd and assumed he’d take care of it. Redd had money before they’d poured most of their shared earnings into their store, so why—?

The eviction notice was starting to crumple in his shaking grip. He set it aside on the kitchen island.

He needed to find Redd. He needed to talk to him. There was probably some simple explanation for all of this that Tom just couldn’t see right now. Redd would explain, would tease him for getting all worked up about nothing. Or, or maybe this had been premeditated. Maybe he’d taken Tom’s money for months and then—

Tom yanked on his pants, and a shirt, and dashed out of the apartment. Redd wasn’t home, but there was one other place he might be at this hour.

Tom ran to their store. Animals gave him odd looks as he passed them, but he paid them no attention. He wasn’t built for running, especially not over long distances. He was soon panting and wheezing, sweat slicking his shirt to his back, but he didn’t slow. The walking sign switched to a red hand but Tom kept running, ignoring the resultant yells and curses spat at him from nearby cars as they were forced to swerve around him.

He reached the store at last—and his heart dropped to his stomach. The entire area was roped off. There were large heavy construction machines, including a crane with a wrecking ball at the end of it.

Tom ducked under the tape and tried to run inside, but was grabbed by one of the construction workers.

“Hey, hey!” The bulldog barked. “You crazy? You can’t go in there, they’re about to bust it down.”

“That’s my store!” Tom yelled. “What are you doing, that’s my property!”

“This place has been foreclosed on for over a year now.” The worker replied, bewildered. “It’s been slated for demolition. Gonna squeeze another high-rise in there.”

“But—But—”

The key in his pocket was freshly cut. If the place had been abandoned, it would’ve been relatively simple for Redd to install a new lock on the place. To add a layer of credibility to the entire request, to allow Tom to hope.

Tom was no longer resisting, so the bulldog released his grip on Tom’s shirt.

“You should step back, kid. It’s going to get real dusty here in a minute.”

He threw one last perplexed look at Tom before he rejoined his crew members.

Tom retreated behind the tape, and watched as the wrecking ball swung out, and smashed the front of the building inwards. His eyes watered, then, but not from the resultant dust.

~*~

He didn’t return to the apartment. He didn’t want anything they’d shared, or that would remind him of Redd.

He walked to the train station in a daze, only pausing to chuck his apartment and store keys in the trash.

Tom didn’t have much remaining in his account, but Redd had at least left him enough to purchase a one-way ticket back to his hometown. The train was the same make and model as the one that’d brought him here, six months ago.

Tom sat at a free window seat, and rested his cheek against the window. The glass was a bit smudged and sticky, likely from a child’s hands, but Tom left his head where it was.

The train came alive with a jolt. Soon the skyscrapers gave way to houses. Gradually, the houses became further and further spaced out, and the forest grew denser. He drank in the sight of green foliage greedily, like a man given water after days in the desert. He hadn’t realized, until now, how much he hated the gray of steel, the tan of concrete, the black of asphalt.

The train stopped intermittently. Tom did not pay attention to the conductor’s voice over the loudspeaker, as his was the very last stop on the line.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit next to you?”

It took half a moment for Tom to recognize that he was being spoken to. He pulled his gaze sluggishly away from the window. A blue and white cat stood there, smiling down at him, seemingly unperturbed by Tom’s dour mood. Tom shrugged, not really caring what the cat did. He slid into the seat beside Tom.

“I’m Rover.” He beamed. Tom wanted to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, scream that it wasn’t fair, how dare he smile like that when Tom had been through hell.

“...Tom.” He admitted, eventually, in the expectant silence.

“Pleasure. So, where you headed?”

“Home.”

He understood it now. He wasn’t meant for city life, for a place that cradled you when you could provide it value, then dropped you into the dirt after.

“Took a day trip to the city, eh?”

Tom grunted.

“What a place! Fun to visit now and again, but I’d never live there, personally.”

“Me neither.” Tom agreed.

Rover filled the trip with largely one-sided chatter until he hopped off, three stops before Tom’s.

“Safe travels, friend! I’m sure we’ll meet again someday.”

Tom mustered up a wave for him.

The train pulled into its final station a little after noon. Hardly anyone was left on the train. As Tom left the station, he passed a few elderly couples, some younger animals psyching themselves up for a nature hike.

There weren’t cabs this far out, so Tom walked. It reminded him somewhat of his first day in the city, fraught as it was with exhaustion and confusion as he plodded down street after street. At least this time he walked with certainty. Starved of entertainment as a child, he’d explore the entire town enough times he could navigate it blind.

He wasn’t surprised to discover nothing had changed here. He hadn’t been gone that long, all told, and change came at a glacial pace in his hometown. There were the same trees, unchanging storefronts. Though he supposed there was perhaps a bit more peeling paint on the general store sign than the last time he’d seen it. The store had been owned by Gran Bluebell since before Tom was a kit. It was no great shock she didn’t bother with touching up the hard to reach sign at her age.

People recognized him. Welcomed him. Assumed he was just here for a visit. Tom smiled at them, and exchanged pleasantries but no meaningful information on his side. Humiliation burned his face like a hot brand. He could hardly admit to himself that he’d failed, let alone to them. They’d sympathize, express their condolences—but past their commiserating veneer would be a sick kind of satisfaction. I knew you’d never make it out there. You thought you were better than us? Smarter? We’re all stuck here in this town for a reason.

Had the city soured his optimistic, rosy view of others? Perhaps it had. Could he truly be blamed, though? With pessimism, you expected the worst out of others. You could never be disappointed, only pleasantly surprised.

At length, Tom reached his destination. It was a house on the end of the row. One story, cream-colored. The doorbell had stopped working years ago, so Tom rapped on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet over wood, and then the door creaked open.

Sable’s eyes widened. She shut the door again to unhook the chain lock, and then threw it wide open. Tom could see a slice of the kitchen from his current vantage point. Mabel was strapped into her highchair, gleefully smashing peas into paste on the tray in front of her, babbling nonsense. Label was peering at him with large, dark eyes, half-hidden behind the frayed couch.

“Tom, what are you doing here?” Sable swept a critical eye over him, noting his lack of luggage.

Tom saw telltale signs of strain in his friend’s features. The circles beneath her eyes, the unkemptness of her quills, the stains, fresh and old on her apron. He shouldn’t bother her with his problems. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Tom?”

She cupped his chin, lifted his head up so he met her gaze.

“What happened?”

Tom broke. He surged forward, wrapping Sable in a tight embrace. Sable hesitated only the briefest moment before she encircled her arms around him, stroking his back soothingly.

“Sable,” He choked out.

“It’s okay now.” Her tone was soothing and soft. “Let it out.”

He buried his head in her shoulder, and wept.

~*~

Tom was rooted in place. Redd was gone, again. Without a trace, without a word.

He was being stupid. He was overreacting. Where could Redd go, really? The island wasn’t that large.

He knew this, logically, and yet his heart was pounding like a drum, his paws, clammy. He couldn’t help the irrational fear that history was repeating itself.

He managed to break through the panic which had seized him to return downstairs. He entered the Cranny. Timmy and Tommy swiveled away from their conversation with Fang.

“Have you seen Redd?” Tom blurted.

The twins shook their heads in unison, but the old wolf scrunched up his forehead in thought.

“The little red fella?” Fang rumbled. Tom nodded. “Think I saw him on my way in. Headed northwards, cha-chomp.”

“Should we look too?”

“...too?”

“No, boys. Mind the shop. I’ll find him.”

Tom waited until he was out of sight of anyone inside the store before he broke into a jog. He crossed over the bridge that connected the main swatch of Bastion to the smaller crescent of land to the north. Alex had left most of this land to the wilds. There was a grove of multicolored hyacinths, encircled by pear trees. Bastion’s lighthouse was posted on the edge of the water. There was no other sign of civilization out here—save for Flurry’s house.

Tom hurried up to the house, and was about to knock when the door swung open. Redd was exiting, a new book tucked under his arm. Flurry was behind him, wringing her tiny paws.

“You’re sure I can’t carry it for you?” She fretted.

“The book weighs more than you do. I can handle it, no problem.”

Redd was facing Flurry; he hadn’t seen Tom yet. He was speaking in that tone of voice, the same one he’d had with the boys, before Tom interrupted. Something soft, kind.

Then Redd turned to see Tom, and the gentle look on his face vanished, replaced by something charming and fake.

“Come to escort me home? How gentlemanly of you, Mr. Nook.” Redd batted his eyelashes obnoxiously. Flurry giggled.

Tom gave a short nod to the hamster before she shut the door. Tom waited until they were in the hyacinth field, far enough away from Flurry’s house, to speak.

“You can’t just—just leave without telling me.”

Redd snorted. “I’m not one of your adopted kiddos.” A thought seemed to occur to him, and with some annoyance, he added, “What, you can’t trust me to be on my own, is that it? Think I’m always up to no good?”

“You’re hurt and you don’t know the island. You can’t just go off on your own.”

“Please, Tom. Don’t bother with all this. You don’t care about me, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“That’s not what I—you’re so—!” Tom clamped his mouth shut. He took a deep breath, which didn’t do as much to calm him as he would have liked. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. You were just gone, and I panicked.”

Tom was surprised as that seemed to set Redd off. “Oh, panicked, did you? How do you think I felt when you left New Leaf, without telling me? I had to hear it from Chadder—Chadder, of all people!—that you’ve just run off to some deserted island, on your own. There are tarantulas out here, Tom. Tarantulas!”

“And scorpions,” Tom added, helpfully. Redd glowered at him. “I was expanding my business into travel. Not that you’d know anything about innovation.”

“You learned all you know from me!”

“Hardly!” Tom scoffed. “I taught myself everything after you stole from me. My first shop was made out of scrap metal and wood from the dump, and look at me now. Whereas you, Redd,” He jabbed the fox in the chest. “You just jump from one scam to the next, and don’t care who you hurt in the process.”

Redd flinched back. “I’m not. I’m not like that anymore. I—look. I might have. Lied. Before.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Tom said, waspishly.

“Guess I deserve that one.” Redd shifted his weight uneasily. “I’m talking about the art. It is real, like I said. Spent almost every bell I got to acquire it all. But I wasn’t planning to scam anyone with it. I wasn’t going to go island to island to sell people replicas. I just wanted to come here. Where you are.”

Tom’s ire drained, supplanted by confusion. He said nothing, and Redd took that as permission to continue.

“I was going to swing by once a week. Give a new piece of art to that human kid every time, because I know Blabbers—”

“Blathers.”

“—would want them all displayed in his museum. And over time, you’d get used to seeing me around. And there’d be no stories about fakes for you to hear. And maybe you’d…” Redd sighed. He looked up at Tom with an earnestness the raccoon had never seen from him before. “I scammed a lot of guys before you. A lot of them were like you—new to the city, hopelessly clueless, grateful for any scrap of guidance. But you were different. I...I do regret what happened between us. What I did to you. It still haunts me.”

“So why did you?” Tom asked, softly. “You know that I loved you.”

Redd’s face twisted in anguish. “I did know. I hate myself every day for ruining what we had. And the worst part is I can’t tell you why I did it. A part of me, a big part of me, didn’t want to. But it was what I’d always done. I didn’t grow up in a nice place, or in a nice home. I learned how to con, how to lie and cheat and survive. I learned how to take care of myself, because no one else was going to. And then you came along, and you didn’t want to use me, and you were clever, and wanted us to be partners, equals. You thought I could be that for you, that I could be up at as high a level as you are, and, and it scared me. It made me think that maybe I didn’t have to be that way anymore. I didn’t have to trick anyone ever again. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t change. I couldn’t make the leap. I fell into old habits, because they were secure, because I knew I could rely on the results. I knew I’d hurt you, but I did it anyway. Because I didn’t trust you, and I didn’t trust myself.”

Tom felt as if his heart was breaking again, but in a different way. Redd’s confession was a raw, sad thing.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I...I still want you in my life. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

There was a long silence between them. The hyacinths swayed gently around them in the cool sea breeze.

Redd had hurt Tom deeply. On one level, Tom did forgive him. Redd had suffered the consequences of his actions. He’d gained money, but he’d lost Tom’s affections, lost the chance for an honest living. On another level, Tom could not open his heart fully to the fox again. Redd claimed that he had changed, and he certainly seemed repentant. But they would remain only acquaintances, perhaps friends, at the most. He simply could not trust Redd to the extent he had in the past, and he doubted he ever would.

“What book did Flurry give you?”

“What? Oh.” Redd blinked. He checked the title. “Bark Antony and Kleopawtra.”

“Perhaps you could read it aloud to the kids, tonight. They’d like that.”

A tentative smile spread slowly across Redd’s face.

He accepted the olive branch.

“Fine, but you’re voicing Bark Antony.”

The pair of them returned to the Cranny, walking shoulder to shoulder.

#reddnook #tom nook #redd #ac #animal crossing #animal crossing: new horizons #my fic #also you know flurry was eavesdropping on that drama #with binoculars

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draganasimpsforjeff · 4 years ago

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Hunting Dogs: Chapter Seven (proxies x reader)

Age was nothing but a number to them and most, if not, all the time it meant nothing. Like part of the human race, you can die at any moment but you take precautions and you try not to be a dumbass and take care of yourself and you'll be fine. Every year was celebrated with a birthday, announcing that you were still alive to your loved ones.

But when you're a proxy, there is nothing to celebrate. If there was, it was just to get by another day. They didn't live life by miles and those are limitless and no one knows when those miles will stop. For proxies, if you reached the age of 25, it was like a big deal in a way that not many men got to see or get to. Yes, in the mansion there are countless beings older than such, but there was less pressure as there was on these three men.

It was complete hell for Hoodie and Masky when they first started as Slender thought he would need to test every aspect of them in anyway he could, even if that meant putting them near death. But, they are over the age of 25. Although, don't be a complete idiot if you think that makes them safer. It doesn't. It just means they got past a milestone that a great percentage didn't have the opportunity to get to. Toby was the youngest out of them, 23, almost 24. But hell, no great being like a Slenderman could threaten to ruin his life when the damn boy does it to himself everyday. The only difference is that He could make it the ultimate ending and act like Toby never existed and he would expect the same from others.

So, in ways the three men relationship was complicated, much like a Zeppelin Bend, when they worked together they were stable, so tight-knit that they knew each other's next move, thoughts, feelings.etc., they could be stable when they wanted to and be the scariest goddamn creatures ever known to man. But, if something was in the way or their thoughts didn't link together, the connection between all three was nonexistent. Like it wasn't bad enough that after a good day and a mission completed, they would cut the cord so fucking quick and lash out, becoming blood thirsty monsters that just wanted each other dead.

And who could blame them? The stress of them job mixed in with their emotions, the need to survive, and whether or not a mission was high-impact or not they were expected and felt the need to have the right. And you wanna know what their treat was for not fucking up? Not a nice dinner, no hot baths with bubbles, no 'here take a day or two to rest' or any bullshit like that. It was, Congratulations! You get to live another day! Now go back to your dim lit rooms with just a desk, bed, nightstand and closet, that half the time it looks like they had nothing to themselves. Whatever they had, they could fit in a backpack, but what was the point of personalizing a room to your liking for your own self expression when there was a chance you could be gone and hell... they didn't even know who they were, self identity was a crucial factor here.

Sure, they may remember bits and pieces of what they like or, rather, what they thought they liked, but it was all blurry and covered in smudges, like imagine going to see ophthalmologist and instead of having you look through lens to correct your vision, it's worse and it's covered in black shit, yeah, that was basically they're mind. Amnesia though was the worst for Masky, but not like it was new to him at all. he suffered through it during his childhood and teenage years up till now. Hoodie just stopped caring even though he does miss his life in college and he became so invested in his study of Psychology and maybe that's something that comes in handy with this job, studying emotions, body language, and movement from a person or anything to be honest, the best course of action, why someone may be acting a certain way(most of this thought goes towards Toby) Masky lets himself be easy to read, even with the mask, nothing could hide an animal like him...unless sedated. Although, Hoodie does remember Alex and how he was no longer Brian..okay well, he was Brian, but...not the same.

It's life, going through life lessons and you're in the process of character development, it was like that but it happened so quick for him that he was like a switch, he doesn't remember the last time he felt 'normal'.

Now, Toby. It was like a slow boil, adding in ingredients, not following recipe and wondering what was gonna be created. So much had happened to him with bullies, his step dad and whoever else wanted to get on his nerves. He didn't have much but Lyra and that was pretty much all he remembers now. Bits and pieces of his past, only just enough to make sense of why he should be grateful for Slender and why Toby has taken this position among the proxies. But he didn't mind it so much, why the fuck would he want to remember his past- apart from Lyra. Yeah, sure it hurt and feels like there is a piece of him missing all the time, but, at least there was a reason for him being so unhinged.

"Wake up, Tobs." Hoodie says, kicking the edge of the mattress a little, trying to stir Toby awake with his best ability to not also make him upset. If there was one thing that he could agree with Masky on, it's that Toby becomes the biggest dick ever when forced to wake up- that or he's whiny. He got no response back from Toby and he sighs, kicking again, but again, no response. "Dammit...Masky, did you force the sleeping pills down his throat?' He growls, looking over his shoulder at Masky who was leaning against the wall by the door.

"And have the possibility of me having to carry him around like a limp dick that he is? No thanks. Maybe he just hasn't gotten enough sleep lately." he shrugs. Hoodie sighs, nodding as he looks down at Toby, who as he was an active sleeper, his legs were tangled up in the blankets, pillow tossed over his face, his body angled in a weird way and the bed sheets were pulled off.

"NO!" he suddenly shot up, the pillow flying and his eyes widened and like he was out of his mind, psychotic almost, but Hoodie knew better. He rushes over as the younger one breathes heavily, cold sweat breaking around his skin as he starts to shake. Hoodie sits near his legs, making sure to get in his line of vision. He doesn't snap or touch him as that would trigger Toby and it's not a good thing to snap someone out of an episode like this. "Hey, hey.. It's okay, You're safe." Hoodie says softly, moving his gloves hands in different motions and directions, making Toby focus in and follow them. "Breathe, inhale...1..2..3...hold...1...2..3..4 exhale." he continues this for a few more minutes until he knows that Toby's breathing was back to normal and was blinking, looking around at his surroundings, bringing himself back to reality.

"T-thanks. " He mumbles, he hates having to get help over something he should know how to deal with already. He's had these fucking nightmares for years and yet, they always feel like the first time and remain fresh on his mind until he snaps out of it. Masky swallows thickly, watching the two with mild interest before noticing the change outside. "It's not raining anymore." he says, making the other two look at the nearest window and nod, agreeing. "Let's get back to the mansion. Grab the things we need and see if BEN can figure anything with the girl." He says, standing up slowly from the bed as his back still hurts from when he fell off the ledge. He recovered mostly, thanks to Slender but his spine did give him a hard time whenever he had to bend a certain way. He use to be the type of sleeper to be on his back, but after the injury he had to figure out another way to sleep.

The men got situated, tightening their shoes and securing their items. Medication check, gun and bullets check, making sure they didn't leave anything behind of theirs or something that they may have missed in the apartment before leaving.

It was still chilly and their clothes were damp, but it was better than nothing and they were sure they spotted a laundry mat a few blocks down. Masky collected some quarters around the house so, at least they could get their hoodies warm and dry. After that, they made their way to the mansion.

"I don't know ma, I already paid for the room so I might as well use it." your mom called you this morning, wanting to visit you or vice versa. She thought that you could use a little break from working so hard and being 'so alone' at your place. Which, you appreciate the thought and could definitely get away from all the bullshit that was happening, but you were scared to go back to your apartment and pack what you needed. Plus, you didn't know if the men were there and just waiting for you. The thought makes goosebumps spread over your arms and neck, rubbing it nervously as you were forming an ache from the cheap bed. "I know, honey, but here, I can pay you the money you spent and take you out. It's been a very long time since I've seen you and I miss you sooooo much." you couldn't help but smile at that. Who could say no to getting paid for the money they wasted, getting spoiled and whatever else would happen.

For fucks sake, it wouldn't hurt you and you wouldn't have to think about being hunted and feeling like you can't close your eyes for even a few hours of sleep. "Okay, well, you know I don't have a car-"

"I'll pick you up. Just give me the address again and I'll be there in a few hours, mama had lots of coffee." she giggles, making you shake your head as she was a bit hyper when she has more than three cups of coffee. "Alright, just be careful. I'll text you the address." you say, stuffing items back into your bag and grabbing your keys and wallet, letting your pockets swallow them. "Okay, bye, love you." she says and you say the same, hanging up.

You blow out a breath, making your bangs lift up a little as you muster enough courage, picking up the bag and leaving the hotel room.

Please let things go back to normal.

#Hunting Dogs #HuntingDogs #proxies x reader #creepypasta x reader #cp headcanons

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 5 years ago

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Quarantine Pt.1

I did it! I posted it "today" (at least in my timezone)! Unfortunately, I don't know how to SHUT THE F*** UP, so this will need to be two parts. I'm sorry about that, but I hope you still enjoy!

Warm. He felt too warm, kicking off the blankets, panting as he tried to cool down. A function he rarely uses activates, water coating his skin, sweating. The heat was the least of his problems. Every joint, synthetic muscle, even every wire that compiled his nervous system hurt. A throbbing pain that won't leave him alone.

He was a fool.

Connor should have stayed home. Fowler had even offered him paid leave until a firewall or antivirus was created, but he was an advanced android. He had far more advanced security measures than the average android. Only Nines could match it. So many androids are under a Stay-At-Home order, but both RKs are considered essential workers, and they were happy to continue to keep the peace. He was so sure he couldn't be infected.

Two rookies had gone to break up a public meeting of androids at a park. They ended up arresting one on assault of an officer. What the rookies failed to do was announce that they had an android in custody. The virus spreads by forcing wireless connection, passing it when an infected android comes within 10ft of another android. For this reason, any androids brought into custody needed to be announced so any android personnel could vacate to the area.

Connor, both unfortunate and fortunate, was the only android in the bullpen when they walked by. A flash of code, followed by a buzzing sensation was his only warning, which was more warning than any other android received. When the rookies locked the android in a quarantine cell downstairs, Connor reprimanded the two officers, writing them up and sending the information for Capt. Fowler to review, along with a note that he needed to enter quarantine himself, as a precaution. He still believed that he would be fine. His programming will destroy it.

Fowler agreed, allowing him to go home once he was tested positive by the technician on duty, aka you. He immediately headed to the android repair ward, which you deemed a "glorified nurse's office". Before he entered, he informed you he was on his way, receiving the go-ahead that no other androids were there.

"Oh my god, Connor! Not you too!" You exclaimed. You were moving frantically, your hair out of place. With three of the five technicians working in the precinct being androids, you have been kept exceedingly busy, sleeping in shifts with the other technician, Cleon, on the small couch in your office. You've been pressing the department to hire more help, but they are slow-moving with your requests.

He watched as you sent a report, grabbed a device, answered a call, jotted down an address, before moving back to him.

"Open up, " you requested, and he revealed the port on the nape of his neck. You hastily shoved the wire from the appliance in your hand into his port, making him wince. You didn't notice as you shoved the device in his hands and went about re-filling an emergency repair bag, adding cold compresses and thirium you had stored in a freezer. After a few minutes, the device beeped twice and you yanked the cord out of his neck. He grunted, rubbing at his poor, abused port. You looked at the screen and finally froze. You read over the data several times, hoping you were reading it wrong.

"Shit... Dammit! Fuck!" You cursed. Connor surmised that it was not good, but you have yet to address him. Instead, you took the note and the bag, going into your office and tossing the bag on Cleon's stomach, making him jump. "Take care of this, please, " you call to him before grabbing a stack of papers from your desk and leaving the office and the repair ward completely.

Connor got up and went to the door, watching you march into Fowler's office. Cleon squeezed past him, still very much asleep and probably cursing the fact that he is low man on the totem pole. In Fowler's office, things were getting heated based on your body language, but he couldn't see your lips to determine what you were saying. Eventually, you dropped the stack of papers on his desk, jabbing at them before storming out.

"Come on, Connor, you're coming with me, " you demanded, giving him no choice but to follow you out. You were kind of freaking him out. He already knew he was positive, but his systems will take care of it. You have yet to say anything about it though, going to the car and pulling out your phone. You switched it to auto-drive as Connor sat in the passenger seat. He preferred to drive, enjoying the simple tasks. Why can't he drive while you make your phone calls?

"Hey, Hank, " you called Hank? That makes sense. He was out to lunch when the incident happened, "Connor tested positive." He could hear the lieutenant cursing and shouting into the phone.

"I don't fucking know! I'm taking him home now and we'll be out for the next two weeks, " two weeks? He can't be out that long! Especially during a crisis! You must know he isn't the average android! He'll be fine by tomorrow!

"Yes, I already talked to Fowler... I gave him a stack of applications! I warned him that if Connor or Nines got it, I'd need to be their primary, so he can fuck off!" When did you do that? "Yeah, I'll talk to him next... No, it doesn't work like that. Alright, bye." Connor thought you were done and he'd get some answers, but instead, you called someone else.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know, Connor tested positive, " heat settled in his cheeks. Were you telling everyone? "No, you are going to stay away.... Don't give me that bullshit! It works faster on advanced firewalls! That's why we haven't been able to stop it yet!" What? That's it. Connor wanted answers and he wanted them now. He grabbed your phone, briefly seeing the image of his stoic brother holding Gavin in a headlock before he hung up and tossed the phone in the backseat. You only stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What are you talking about?" He bared down on you. You were scaring him. He thought he was going to be fine, that it wouldn't affect him.

"This virus is designed for military-grade androids, which regularly upgrade their security programs. Your advanced programming makes you an easier target."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He felt a bit betrayed. You withheld that important information from him, you, who he trusts more than anyone.

"I'm sorry! Honestly, I thought I did!" You tried to think back, but your mind was a scrambled mess with how exhausted you are. You were lucky If you got 8 hours for the whole week. Connor noticed how distressed you were, so certain that you had told him.

"What... What's going to happen to me?" The car pulled up into the driveway, but neither moved to get out. He knew some of the symptoms, but believing he was safe, he didn't study it extensively.

"It's similar to a really bad flu in humans. Fever, body aches, coughing, and the like. Symptoms will probably start appearing over the next couple days, " you take his hand, "don't worry, I'm going to take care of you." He gently pulled his hand away and got out of the car. He knew you meant well and you didn't mean to forget to inform him, but he still felt hurt, and he was dreading what the following days are going to be like.

He unlocks the door of his shared house, SJ waiting at the doorway already. Connor reached up and grabbed his leash. A walk should calm his mind.

"Connor? Connor, wait!" You called out to him and he realized why. He can't walk SJ. He's infectious, and it's his responsibility to keep others safe. Reluctantly, he hands you the leash, bending down to pet SJ, then mopes back into the house.

Seeing him like this broke your heart, and knowing you neglected to tell him of his vulnerability filled you with guilt.

"SJ, what am I going to do?" You whine at the oversized pup. He looked up at the mention of his name and snorted before returning to smelling a lamppost. Well, that was useless. If Connor was human, you would make him his favorite meal as an apology, but that wasn't an option. You didn't mean to forget! There were so many things going on, and you had reminded yourself so many times, you legitimately thought you told him. Now, he is sick and it's all your fault. How do you even begin to apologize for that?

Then there was the virus itself. It was a terrorist act, and the FBI was already investigating it. Someone or some group had created this virus with the intent to take out as many military-grade androids as possible, so as to weaken the USA's army. What they didn't anticipate was how it spread. All androids could be affected by it, even foreign-built ones, and while it wasn't as deadly as they probably would have liked, without proper care, some androids have shut down from it. While it originated in the Artics, it has since traveled globally, resulting in a halting of the economy worse than even the Android revolution caused.

SJ finished his business and when you were done cleaning up after him, you both made the trek back home. Connor might not be able to leave the house, but he can still play fetch in the backyard. At least until he starts showing symptoms, you thought gloomily. Once you get home, you're gonna need to do a run-down of what you have and will need for the next two weeks. You know you'll need to stick some thirium in the freezer for when his fever spikes. Maybe you should pick up some fruit-flavored popsicles. Connor usually enjoys them, since it's one of the few food items he can eat without affecting his systems.

"I'm back, " you called out. Connor was still pouting, sitting on the couch. He didn't even bother turning on the tv, preferring to ruminate in his depression. Unclipping SJ, you moved to behind the couch, throwing your arms around the pouty deviant. SJ settled in his bed, ready for an undeserved nap.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you, " you mumbled against him. He sighed, long and heavy before relaxing into your grasp.

"I can't fault you completely. You've been overworked, and you are not an android with perfect recollection, " he spoke lowly.

"Rub it in, why don't ya?" You joke, earning a small laugh.

"I've never been sick before, " you could hear the worry in his voice.

"I know. I'll take care of you, I promise."

"You should be at work. Mr. Sunderland can't handle it by himself."

"Who?" Who the fuck is Mr. Sunderland?

"You don't know Cleon's last name?" Connor asked incredulously, "wasn't he your trainee?"

"He was, but I just called him either 'trainee' or Cleon. In any case, this is just what the precinct needed to "inspire" them to bring on some extra help. I already did the interviews and checked credentials. I literally did all the work for them!" You kissed his temple, right where his LED is, watching it flicker, "I swore if something happened to you or Nines, I would take care of you both. I'm registered to care for both models. If I didn't, you would have to go to the hospital to receive treatment." Both androids hate the hospital, Nines especially. You don't know why, but it seems to be the only thing he fears.

"But, if Nines gets sick now-"

"I will travel between here and his place to check on him. I've also discussed this with Gavin, even giving him a run-down on the basics. Nines would be fine. You are my concern right now, so if you start to feel odd, even if you think it's not a big deal, I need you to tell me, okay?"

"Okay, " Connor agreed. You settled back against him, but he wasn't satisfied. Turning slightly, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you over, onto his lap. You laughed as he snuggled against you, peppering you with kisses. The android had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, not that you really minded. You'll just have to make the list of things you need in your head.

"I have at least 24 hours, correct? Might I make a final request?" He murmured against your cheek.

"You're not dying, you know that right?" You giggled.

"Is that a no?" He gazed at you, pouting his lip, pulling off his trademark puppy dog face.

"As if that's ever an option, " you purred, kissing his nose, then his cheek, down his jaw before teasing him with a peck next to his lips. When you went to do it again, he turned his head and caught your lips.

"You're right, " he speaks against you, "it's not."

...........

You weren't able to escape his grasp until almost 3 am, body aching and satiated. Connor was in stasis, lying on his side in bed, blanket draped over his hips. It isn't common for you to be awake while he sleeps, but usually you try to soak up every second. He looks so peaceful, relaxed, and nothing like the relentless hunter he is at work. You had an obligation, however, and you weren't going to fail him again. Carefully, you pull the blanket up over his shoulders, his LED flickering a few times before slowing once again.

Taking one last look, you begrudgingly head into the kitchen, taking a couple of bottles and pouches of thirium from the fridge and sticking them into the freezer. Next, you headed for your emergency kit, checking for your iv needles and how much numbing lotion you had. Satisfied, you looked for your Liquid Ice. You looked all throughout your bag, even dumping the contents on the floor, but you could not find it.

"Shit, " you mumbled under your breath. Cyberlife stores are having trouble keeping it in stock. If they're out, you might need to sneak into work and grab a bottle, or message Hank. He'd do it for you. You take the time to organize your bag while picking up the spilled contents. A nose blocks your hand from grabbing your tube of liquid rubber-stoppers.

"SJ, shoo!" You whisper yelled, "I don't need help." SJ looked at you and snorted, right in your face. Disgusted, you wipe your face on the sleeve of your robe, "you really are your daddy's child, aren't you." Grabbing the last items, you push on his head to stand back up, patting his head, "I need to run to the store real quick to help Con. Think you can keep an eye on him for me until I get back?"

SJ let out a low borf, "good boy!" You patted his head once more before going into the bedroom to get dressed. Connor was still asleep, so you quickly found some clothes and started to put them on. The dog, though, saw the vacant spot in bed. With the same amount of grace Hank has after a few drinks, SJ scrambled into the bed. 'Wow, just dance all over my grave, why don't you,' you thought.

Connor stirred, opening his eyes and expecting to see his enchanting lover, he is instead met with a hairy beast looking down at him. SJ leaned down and gave him a lick on the cheek.

You come around to his side of the bed, hand on his shoulder as he tries to get up.

"Where are you going?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep. A simple stasis update, but boy, could that voice get you going.

"I gotta run to the store. I'll be right back, " you murmur.

"It's 3:42 in the morning."

"Which means no crowds. Store down the road is still doing three shifts. I wanna get supplies before you start showing symptoms. Just go back to sleep, ok? and I'll be back before you know it."

Usually, Connor would fight you on it, insisting it can wait or wanting to come with you. This time, he simply nods, laying his head back on the pillow. He felt... tired. It probably is a good idea, that way you'll be here when he needs you. He felt your lips on his temple, along with a whispered 'I love you'.

"I love you, too, " he hums, slipping back into stasis.

............

When he woke up again, he wished he never did. Now, he was lying in bed, drenched in artificial sweat, body aching. When he tried to turn off his sensors, the program immediately kicked back on, an instant of excruciating pain before dropping back down. He looked over, praying you would be there, but even SJ had left when the deviant started tossing in his sleep, leaving your side vacant. He tried calling for you, but his throat burned. The action triggered a coughing fit, which made everything so much worse. When it subsided, he pulled his hand away, seeing blue blood dotting his palm.

You rushed in when you heard the coughing, having been putting up groceries. One look told you how miserable he felt, the virus starting to run its course. Grabbing a tissue from your nightstand, you sat next to him and wiped his hand.

"Don't worry, that's normal, " you spoke, tossing the used tissue in the trash before feeling his forehead, as if it wasn't obvious he was overheating, "you're really warm."

"I know, " he rasped.

"Come on, I've already ran you a cool bath, " you helped Connor to his feet, guiding him to the bathroom. His vision kept swimming, and his gyroscope was malfunctioning, making the room spin. You tried to keep a firm grasp on the disoriented deviant, despite how slick his skin is. After a few failed attempts, he managed to step into the tub, relying heavily on you as you eased him down, letting him lie back against the wall.

The water was cool, but not cold. Pleasant. You took a small pitcher and filled it with water, tipping his head back and pouring it over his scalp. He sighed at the small relief, enjoying the cooling sensation. You did it a couple more times, until some of the color left his face.

"I'm gonna go switch the sheets and find you some shorts to wear, okay?"

He hummed, sinking down further into the tub, nose just above the water.

"Please, don't drown."

He hummed again, making no moves to sit up higher. It didn't put your mind at ease, but you'll only be a moment. You shot Hank a text, asking if he could swipe a can of Liquid Ice for you, then you pulled the blankets off the bed, sheets soaked from Connor's feeble attempts to keep cool. You peered into the bathroom as you walked to the laundry room, making sure he didn't sink any lower. You started the wash and grabbed fresh linens, checking on Connor, making the bed, checking on Connor, grabbing some supplies, then grabbing him a pair of basketball shorts and re-entering the bathroom.

The water was starting to warm, which you figured was going to happen. Connor was simply sitting there, eyes half-lidded but unblinking, his LED in a constant state of yellow. He focused on the cooling water, trying to forget his aches and pains. Was this how you felt last year, when you caught the flu? It's no wonder your mood had been so volatile.

"You ready to get out?" his eyes slowly landed on you before he started to stand, bracing himself against the wall. You immediately reached out, ready to help. He managed to get out of the tub before being hit with another coughing fit, crumpling to the floor and taking you with him. The violent fit triggered a gag reflex, body trying to clear his airways and cool down. Thirium poured from his mouth, staining the floor blue. You rubbed his back, comforting him until his breathing evened out. He tried to grab a hand towel from the tub to clean it up, but you stopped him.

"I got it. Let's get you back in bed, " easing him up, you moved around the mess, grabbing a towel and walking him to the bedroom.

"Sorry, " Connor huffed while you helped him into his shorts. He sat down, legs aching so much more just by standing.

"Don't be. You're sick, and I'm partially to blame, " you took the towel and gently ruffled his hair, "I told you I'm here to take care of you and that's exactly what I'm going to do." You had grabbed some extra pillows, so when he laid back he was gently propped up. You took some adhesive ice packs and stuck one on the base of his neck, one on his forehead, and one on his chest, right over his thirium pump.

"How do you feel?" You ask.

"Everything... hurts, " he manages to answer. You grab a bottle of lotion and start rubbing it all over him. Instantly, he could feel his body go numb.

"This stuff disrupts the impulses to your sensors. It won't work if the pain is too strong, but it's good for minor aches." In a way, you were envious. Any pain relief you want, you have to wait to kick in, "how's your thirium level?"

"92%." Too early to fill. If you want his body to cool down, it would need to be below 80%.

"Well, there is something I got for you that I think you might like, " you smile down at him before pulling out a jar and a spoon, "lucky for you, raw honey is safe for you to consume even with a fever and it should help your throat." You took a spoonful and put it to his lips. He happily took it, letting it coat his mouth and drip down his throat. Connor loves honey. He could feel it soothing the burn. You gave him two more spoonfuls before setting it aside.

"You should get some rest while you can, love, " you stroke his cheek.

"Stay with me?" He now understands why you don't want to be alone when you're sick, "at least until I enter stasis?" You move to lay on his other side, so he can reach the trash can if need be.

"Sure."

#detroit become human #connor fanfiction #dbh #connor x reader #rk800 #rk800 connor reader #connor #gaming #quarantine

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platypanthewriter · 5 years ago

Text

Switch Your Partner Round And Round (pt 1)

for @ihni. The second half will post on Ao3 Sunday, here next Weds!

Steve’s head pounded, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the flickering light and heat on his face. The hard plastic of the steering wheel dug into his cheek, and as he groaned, something slid off his hair and fell on his leg, then clinked to the floor. He blinked to see flames, and jerked his head up, then swore at the blurring lights and rush of pain in his skull. He blinked his eyes again, registering Robin next to him in the passenger seat, her head lolling against the seatbelt. The Camaro they’d t-boned—the Camaro with Billy Hargrove in it—had burst into flames. Billy jerked back against the seat, then started scrabbling at the inside of the driver’s-side door, and Steve pushed his own door open, staggering towards the Camaro.

Billy looked up, his eyes widening, and Steve yanked harder at the door, the heat from the engine block crinkling the paint on the hood. The seat next to Billy was on fire, around a lidless bottle of Everclear. The handle wouldn’t work, and Steve had to put a foot next to Billy’s door to yank it open. Billy yelled, holding his arms up defensively and coughing black smoke in a cloud around them, but Steve grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him out just as the whole passenger seat of the Camaro burst into flames in the air flow from the door, throwing them both to the ground. Billy rolled over him as they fell, hacking the smoke in huge gouts— at least the monster’s gone, in this heat, Steve thought, his brain fading out again as the night as the air filled with sirens, and the sky lit up blue and white.

When he woke again, he wished he hadn’t. Every part of him ached—his whole right side and hand were alternately numb or throbbing, his head hurt even worse than before, and his throat felt like he’d thrown up cement.

“Don’t freak out,” someone hissed, and Steve groaned, trying to swallow.

He tried to move, and his wrist clinked against something. He yanked at it, curling on his side, and it clinked again. Steve slowly opened his eyes enough to see he was handcuffed to a bed, then shut them again against the shooting pain of the fluorescent lights.

“Don’t, stop it,” the voice growled. “Keep your chill, Harrington, christ. Sssh, they’re coming, keep your damn mouth shut!”

Steve groaned again, wanting nothing in the world so much as water. He registered a shower-curtain noise, and squinted up, only to have a man in scrubs address him as “Mr. Hargrove”, and ask him what day it was, and whether he knew his name. He tried to correct him, rasping out a “Haaaa...harrrr,” but the man realized he was dying of thirst, and left to search for a cup of ice cubes.

The second the nurse was gone, the bed next to him squeaked, and the curtain was yanked aside to show him his own face, bruised, cut, and weirdly shaped outside of a mirror. “Shut up, Harrington,” it hissed, and Steve made a noise in the back of his throat, like a dog. “Shut up. If you say anything, they’ll lock us up, cool your jets—”

Steve tried to talk again, and made a perfectly reasonable squawk this time.

“Shut up shut up,” hissed his face. “They won’t believe you, we’ll never get out of here—” It yanked its arm, and Steve registered it was handcuffed as well. That thought was reassuring, and Steve drank the water when the nurse returned and pressed the straw between his lips, falling asleep content that the thief that had stolen his face wasn’t going anywhere.

The next time Steve awakened, he was still in the hospital. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, waiting to hear someone say, “You’re awake.” Nancy, maybe. He set his jaw, telling himself not to hope for anyone else.

No chairs shifted. No throats cleared, and Steve closed his eyes, smiling tightly at the knowledge nobody was impatient to find out how he was. He rolled his head to frown at the bed beside him, where what looked like his body lay, and wondered again whether he wasn’t awake. I’m in a coma, he thought. S’weird watching myself. Maybe somebody will visit. Try to kiss me awake. He squished the oddly tickly pillow with his face, glowering over at his body. Maybe nobody told my mom I got in a wreck. Maybe everybody forgot I was even here.

Just then, his body snored, and Steve jerked, clacking the handcuff on his wrist against the bed rail. Do coma, uh, coma people, he thought muzzily, do people in comas snore? His body rolled over and curled up, flinging an arm over the edge of the bed—there were all his moles on that dangling arm, and he thought indignantly, how come I’m moving if I’m over here— and then he blinked when the brown eyes that belonged properly in his mirror and not on another person opened and blinked back at him.

“Harrington,” hissed the imposter. “You’re finally awake, jesus. Don’t say anything, okay, they—they’ll think we’re insane, we can’t figure this out any easier in a mental hospital—”

“Gimme hair back,” Steve mumbled, holding his un-handcuffed hand—it was full of tubes—up to block the weird person who’d stolen his face. “Ha! I can’ see you.”

“God fucking hell dammit,” the thief groaned. “Go back to sleep.”

“Thief,” Steve hissed, trying to pull his blanket up, and groaning. The other bed squeaked, and then his bodysnatcher tucked him in, and Steve let his eyes slide closed.

When Steve awakened again, the thief was sitting up, and Robin was hugging him. Steve wondered whether he was having an out-of-body experience, until the thief stared at him over his shoulder, mouthing, “Who the fuck is this?!”

“I guess you’re too dumb to die,” she sobbed, hugging him again, and Steve snorted. The thief stared over at him, and made a kissy face, pointing at her head. Steve shook his head, wide-eyed, and drew his fingers across his neck, sticking out his tongue. The thief looked even more bewildered, pulling his arms back, and Steve wanted to laugh, but he’d just realized the tickly stuff against his face was hair.

He lifted his extremely-entubed hand to squint at a fluffy curl of sun-bleached, chin-length hair. “...gonna complain,” he mumbled. “Hospital putting wigs on me.”

His body-snatcher started cackling, and Robin shot him a weirded-out look. “Sorry,” he wheezed. “I—I’m just—I think I’m still in shock,” he tried, and Robin nodded, ignoring Steve entirely.

Steve wondered what else they’d done to him, and patted his face to find a fake mustache, which he immediately tried to yank off, which hurt. “Ennnh!” he whined, as the guy with his face that his best friend was hugging laughed his ass off.

Robin left fairly shortly after, with a suspicious glance towards Steve, like he was the one stealing faces.

“You’re so high,” the thief laughed, and Steve flipped him off.

He woke again to something hitting his face, and groaned. Something smacked into his nose, and he rolled his head away, curling on his side.

“Harrington,” his doppelganger hissed. “Wake up.”

“Nnngh,” Steve told him, and felt something prod his butt.

“Wake up,” the thief said. “I told them to come back, I said you had a concussion, but they’re gonna want to know what happened—”

“Stole my face,” Steve told him, going to rub his own face, and finding the mustache again. “...what the hell. You should be handcuffed. Stealing my face.” The end of his bed shifted, and Steve raised his head to squint up at his own face, attached to his own body, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. “Am I on...morphine or something? Am I dead...?” He swallowed thickly, blinking at the ceiling.

“Shut up, come on,” the bodysnatcher hissed, then grabbed the IV stand, and tilted the chrome arm towards Steve. “Hopper lemme loose, he thinks I’m you, he’s gonna start asking questions— look! Look at your face!”

Steve looked at his reflection, mostly out of annoyance, to see... Billy Hargrove’s face. Billy Hargrove’s mouth dropping open, Billy Hargrove’s hand grabbing the mustache Steve could feel on his own face. He sputtered. “What? No. That’s—that’s—no, that—shit,” he whispered, yanking at a handful of curls. “Need a razor.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. What do we tell people?” his face— Steve’s face—asked, and Steve stared.

“...Hargrove?”

Billy snorted a laugh. “Catch up, Harrington—”

He cut off, because Steve had grabbed his nose. Steve turned his own head, with Billy Hargrove inside it, to the left, and then the right, eyes narrowed. “How the hell,” he mumbled.

“Stop pinching by dose,” said Billy, with Steve’s vocal cords, and Steve yanked him closer by the head. “Mmmfng,” said Billy, crawling up the hospital bed as Steve’s thumb pressed against his lower lip. The room was chilly with air conditioning, and Steve warmed his fingers on Billy’s face as it reddened.

“What’d you do,” Steve whispered, wishing his brain wasn’t so fluttery with whatever was making his side and head hurt less. Billy braced himself over the bed, letting himself be pulled in close so he was doing a push-up with his hands on either side of Steve’s shoulders, and Steve realized something. “Wait, how come—” He squinted up, blinking. “How—how come I haveta hurt, you set yourself on fire?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Billy whispered against his fingers, and Steve squished his own face with both hands until Billy looked like a fish. His breath was warm on Steve’s face, stirring his borrowed mustache.

“Sucks,” Steve mumbled, staring into his own dark brown eyes. He surveyed his own moles, and the way the skin under his eyes squished up when Billy started laughing with his face. “...fuck you,” Steve sighed. He thought, then thonked their foreheads together, and Billy-in-his-body winced, snickering.

“Why’d you save me, anyway?” Billy whispered back, grinning away. “Walk up to a burning car. Pulled me out of a burning car, Harrington—how long you been wanting me—”

In a burst of insanity, Steve rolled his eyes and tried the next thing that came to mind. He was thinking along the lines of magic, and fairytales, and he grabbed Billy Hargrove around the back of the neck to give him a firm kiss.

He expected to get shoved, or hit, or maybe, hopefully, to switch back to his normal body, like waking up a princess, or transforming a frog. What he did not expect, and what actually happened, was Billy scrambling closer and opening his mouth, turning his head and sighing as his tongue slipped warmly against Steve’s. He hummed, smiling, and Steve opened his own mouth, the whole body he was in seizing towards the warm heavy bulk on top of him. He felt like every single cell was rushing an urgent message towards his dick, and when Billy pulled away, panting, Steve wheezed out, “Dude, I think your body is gay.”

“So’s yours,” Billy hissed, flinching back. He took a deep breath, smiled, and leaned in to make Steve’s whole body go tingly and stupid again. “Wanted me so bad you hauled me out of a burning car, Harrington—how long’s my picture been in your locker? You’re gay as shit, who’re you pointing fingers at—” He ran a hand along the skin at the edges of Steve’s bandages, inside his starchy hospital gown. “You’re gay as hell, for me,” he mumbled, laughing shakily. “Saved me. Even after I kicked your ass, you—” He leaned in, pressing messy kisses along Steve’s hairline.

The gentleness made Steve’s breath catch and his eyes sting, which didn’t help his argument any. “M’not,” he muttered. “We—we need to fix it, we need to—”

“Shut up, Harrington. Jesus, you’re freezing—”

Steve forced his tear ducts back into submission, squeezing his eyes shut, then opened them to see Billy Hargrove laughing at him.

“You scared?” Billy asked, and Steve growled, lifting his head to meet Billy’s mouth so fast their teeth banged through their lips, and Billy grunted back in his throat, wide-eyed.

“Not scared, I’m a ninja,” Steve hissed, relishing the break from lying staring at the ceiling and counting his aches. “My body’s just gay ‘cause you’re in it,” he informed Billy, who snorted, biting Steve’s lip more gently and letting it slide through his teeth. Steve groaned, closing his eyes and squirming against the feeling of rough hospital sheets against his dick. “Like fifty percent gay now,” he muttered. “S’weird.”

“What?!” Billy started laughing, and Steve tried to lift an arm to punch him, then pinched his side. Billy yelled “Screw you, Harrington—” in his ear, and Steve snickered.

“‘Cause you’re gay,” he whispered, and Billy growled.

“Shut up, I’m—if I am, you are too,” he hissed, and Steve squinted back at him.

“It’s all you! You’re a hundred percent into me?” The math didn’t seem quite right, and Steve narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. “No, why’d you beat me up? Six...sixty percent? Thirty.” He wished Nancy was there to figure it out.

“I’m not—you’re—what have they got you on—” Billy asked, propping himself up to squint at the IV.

“If you’re only thirty percent into me, half of thirty is fifteen,” Steve told him, confident, yet disappointed at the size of the number. “...think maybe Nancy was fifteen percent into me too.”

“You can’t—that makes no—”

“I was hundred percent into her,” Steve announced sadly. “‘F we’d switched, that’d have been. More.”

“You need me to find you a girlfriend, Harrington?” Billy raised his eyebrows, and Steve tried not to laugh, but he started shaking, imagining Billy Hargrove wandering around shirtless and glaring at everyone, wondering why he didn’t get laid.

“Pffffft,” he finally exploded into giggles. “Ow, oh my god. You just get laid ‘cause you look like you— don’t—don’t look like—you’re such a smug asshole —not a compliment—”

“You just need tighter pants,” Billy told him seriously, his eyes crinkled with laughter, and Steve laughed harder.

“How do you move,” Steve wheezed, rubbing the tears from his eyes on the pillow.

“You were lookin’, huh?” Billy mouthed around Steve’s jaw to his ear, breathing hot across the damp skin. “You kissed me first,” he whispered. He laughed as Steve shook his head. He looked weird, Steve thought, both eyes crinkled as he grinned, and he kept laughing. It was impossible to imagine Billy’s regular face that delighted. “You can’t lie to me now, Harrington, you gave yourself away.”

“I was just trying something,” Steve told him, trying to breathe slowly. “Thought—thought maybe it’d work. We’d change back.”

“Let’s keep trying,” Billy whispered back, grinning. “‘Less you want me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare stop now,” Steve growled, squirming. It was deeply weird to see his own face smiling back, so he closed his eyes. “S’like making out with a funhouse mirror,” he mumbled between pants. Everybody makes out with awful people sometimes, he thought. Doesn’t matter.

“S’hot,” Billy told him, laughing. His hands were warm in the hospital’s AC, and Steve arched against them. “Just admit it.”

Steve fell asleep again with sweat cooling on his skin, his face and side warm against Billy. He woke as the warm weight shifted away, mumbling protests, and felt a soft kiss at his forehead.

“S’alright, I know you love me now,” Billy whispered, laughing, and kissed his ear.

“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, squirming closer. He hooked a foot around Billy’s leg.

“Be right back,” Billy told him. “Never get rid of me now. You gave yourself away, Harrington.” He squirmed to slide off the bed—Steve winced, gritting his teeth as the bed shifted—as the door opened, and twitched the curtain between their beds back just enough to hit his own bedsprings as the nurse pushed a cart alongside Steve’s bed.

He stared at the ceiling, bewildered, as she changed his IV, offered to give him a sponge bath—he yelped a no, remembering the sticky mess dried on his stomach, and heard a muffled snort from the bed through the curtain—and then she tried to interest him in some Jell-O, and the laughter behind the curtain turned to snickering as he grilled her on available flavors.

As soon as she left, Billy was half on top of him again, kissing his cheek and smiling into his face. Steve squinted his eyes against the warmth, trying to remind himself that the gentle hands feeding him Jell-O, cleaning jizz off his belly, and offering him sips of cool water were Billy Hargrove’s. The teasing, soft kisses, and offers to suck his dick were from Billy Hargrove, in his body, after Steve had rescued him from a burning car, and also he was definitely going insane.

When Steve came to again, there was finally somebody in the chair next to his bed, and he squinted blearily. The chair creaked as they tipped back and thunked their shoes on the edge of his mattress, and he groaned in complaint.

“...so, heat,” came Billy’s voice, from his body. “Heat of the fire exorcised me. Should have been some pea soup.”

Steve was glad they didn’t actually leave scalpels around like in movies, because he wanted to stab Billy in his own foot. “Seats’re for visitors,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, you’re getting so many of those.” Billy snorted. “Your parents get in a wreck too?”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed, rolling his head to stare the other way, at the curtain.

“You pulled me out first, though. Saved me when I was still trying to murder a bunch of kids,” Billy laughed. “They’re fine, though. I mean, it worked, they—they went home, I guess. The sheriff told me.”

Steve took a deep breath, nodding.

“That Robin girl says she’s fine, but I think she thinks you’re like...a spy? For the Russians? Or something?”

Steve started snickering, which hurt, and he started coughing. Billy grabbed a cup of water with a straw and held it close enough to drink, but Steve took one sip and shuddered. “It’s warm, you spit in it, didn’t you—”

“I didn’t spit in your drink,” Billy shot back, dropping his legs and the chair legs to the floor, and stalking out with the cup of water.

“...fuck you,” Steve mumbled. Probably they’re all busy, he thought. With the fucking Russians. And the monster. And they don’t have time to hang around here.

Billy returned with the cup, and dropped in Steve’s visitors’ chair again, holding the straw to Steve’s mouth.

Steve stared at it.

“Rinsed it out. I let the water run until it was cold,” he said, nudging Steve’s lips with the straw, and Steve opened his mouth for a chilly sip, then kept swallowing, as his thirst hit his brain.

“Dry air in here,” Billy said, tilting the cup so Steve was getting water instead of air. “Want some more?”

Steve stared up at him, stuck on the idea of asking Billy Hargrove for favors, or having to thank him, or really...talking to him at all. “Why’re you here?” he asked, finally, and Billy laughed.

“Shit. Uh. I know I—you—you stopped me,” he said, tipping the empty cup back and forth so it rattled. “I pay my debts, Harrington—”

“Saved your life and I get a sippy cup,” Steve muttered, feeling cheated.

“I can’t go back and—and fix shit,” Billy growled, the cup creaking in his hand. “I can’t—I tried shit, okay, I drank bleach—”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Steve sighed, and Billy kicked his bed—carefully, since it didn’t hurt.

“Piss off and—” Billy cut off, leaning his face in his hand. “Look, I can’t fix anything, I can’t—I can’t time-travel back and not show up at the Byers’, I can’t—do you want more water, that’s—I can’t—”

Steve did, but he bit his lips together, feeling the weird scratchiness of Billy’s mustache against his lower lip. He glared up at the ceiling.

“Shit,” Billy whispered. “I can’t leave anyway, since I’m apparently you.”

Steve snorted. “Gimme my body back. Beat me up, almost killed my friends, stole my body.”

“...yeah, I know,” Billy laughed, lowering his head. “...I can’t—I know sorry isn’t good enough, I don’t—”

"Look,” Steve told him, wishing he could sit up, “—that—that thing in your head, that wasn't your fault."

“Shoulda set myself on fire sooner,” Billy muttered. He glanced over, grinning. “Wouldn’t be having this problem.” He was kind of...hunkered down, picking at Steve’s blanket, and Steve blew air through his cheeks before speaking.

“Rather have this problem,” he admitted, and Billy’s head jerked up. Steve stared back, cursing his own honesty, but Billy’s smile was small and shaky, and Steve couldn’t quite regret his words. “...you’re still a shithead, though,” Steve told him.

“I know,” Billy laughed again. “I—I’m—just. Sorry about—that night. At the Byers."

“Fffyeah,” Steve growled, getting his consonants in a frustrated jumble. "What the hell was that?"

"I was—I was pissed, and drunk, and—he said I had to bring her back. HAD to. He—it was—or else." Billy kicked the little cart, and it rolled to a stop against the curtain.

"Or else what," Steve asked, his face hurting as he frowned. He watched Billy’s hands, clenched in the blanket, and Billy’s face, sweating in the cold air of the hospital, and reached out to squeeze Billy’s fingers. “What d’you mean, ‘or else’?”

"O-or else, I don't know!" Billy snarled, jerking back from Steve's hand, and Steve stared past him at the curtains, putting together Max and Billy’s defensive growling.

“...okay,” he said, reaching out again, but making sure he waggled his fingers, and Billy saw. “Okay,” he repeated. “I mean, it’s not okay, asshole, but—” he stopped, twining his fingers with Billy’s cold ones. They were shaking, and Steve rubbed Billy’s knuckles with his thumb, waiting for him to look over. “Okay,” he whispered. “Gimme some more water. Thanks.”

Billy stared at him, then down at the cup. “You—you’re just thirsty,” he whispered. He wasn’t crying, but Steve recognized the signs—his voice was husky, and he kept taking deep breaths.

“Yeah, so get me some water, water boy,” Steve hissed back. “Work that shit off. You know how many cups of water it’s gonna take? You’re gonna be hauling water ‘til you die—”

“Jesus, okay,” Billy said, but his smile came back, wide and uncertain, as he slid off the edge of the bed. “Whatever you want. Be right back. You, uh, you want anything else?”

Steve tried to think of something outrageous to say, but finally just shrugged. “Tell you if I do. I’ll run your legs off.”

“Yeah,” Billy grinned. “Make me work for it.” He winked, licking his lips as he slid through the door, and Steve’s dick twitched. He groaned, pulling the pillow over his face.

Steve opened his eyes next on Nancy, pushing the curtains back with a “it’s so gloomy in here, let me—” She stopped when she saw him, her lip curling a little, and he wanted to tell her. “What’s he doing here,” she hissed at Billy. “Don’t they know what he did?”

“He’s asleep,” Billy told her, kind of mumbling.

Steve opened his mouth, and then saw Nancy’s mom, dad, and little sister as the curtain moved. Mike wandered in, crossing his arms. Nancy’s mom stared over at Steve, in Billy’s body—she looked sick, he thought, pale and sweaty, and Steve glanced at Billy, in his body, who was staring at Nancy’s mom.

“How’re you feeling?” Nancy asked, grabbing Billy’s hand, and he managed a weird grunt.

“...fine,” he said eventually, and she nodded, firming her jaw for a narrow-eyed glance at Steve.

“Nurse said your football career would be fine, Harrison,” said Nancy’s dad, punching Billy in the shoulder, and Billy stared at him. “I’m...I don’t play football?” he said, just as Nancy hissed “It’s Harrington!” Nancy and Billy shared a moment, cocking their heads in confusion at Mr. Wheeler. Steve bit back a grin.

“Do you want a ride home, Steve?” Mrs. Wheeler asked Billy, who unaccountably reddened, and glanced at Steve. “We can drop you at your house. I bet you’d like a real shower!”

Billy widened his eyes, biting his lips together, then nodded. “Ye—yep. Thanks, ma’am,” he said, so woodenly that Nancy reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

Steve was so wrapped up in figuring out their weirdness he didn’t register Billy’s urgent stare, but he finally remembered and cleared his throat. “What, you gonna miss me, Harrington? Fuck off and let me sleep.”

Billy snorted, his eyes widening further as Mr. Wheeler promised to return after he was discharged, Mrs. Wheeler suggested they all celebrate his release at the diner with burgers, and Steve dozed off again, smug in the knowledge that Billy was about to have an incredibly awkward afternoon.

When Dustin finally escaped his mom, got his bike to the hospital, and found Steve’s room—despite people stopping him to ask if he was lost—Steve was gone. His bed was a mess, so Dustin figured he hadn’t gotten far, and shot a glance at Billy Hargrove in the other bed. He was grinning, for some reason, and Dustin wrinkled his nose.

“Where’s Steve?” he asked, and Billy’s mouth quirked. “Whatever,” Dustin hissed at him. “I’ll find him myself.”

“Henderson!” Billy yelled, as Dustin yanked the door shut, and Dustin repressed a shudder at the thought Billy Hargrove knew his name.

He (eventually) found Steve on the roof. “Hey,” he called, running up to lean over the railing next to him. He bumped their shoulders together, and Steve half stared, half glared, tossing a cigarette stub on the ground. Dustin rolled his eyes. “How hard you get hit on the head, buddy? I been meaning to talk to you about that. You know who you saved, back there?” He reached up and knocked on Steve’s head, and Steve just narrowed his eyes, his fingers twitching. Dustin slapped Steve’s shoulder, trying to get his brain to engage. “That guy’s the one that beat your face in at the Byers’, Steve. I know your shitty memory, but seriously? Seriously. Billy Hargrove? There are babies in this hospital that have less oxygen ‘cause he’s alive, Steve, who’s the hero now.”

“What?” Steve asked, and Dustin sighed, letting himself drape over the railing.

“Billy Hargrove, Steve. Nancy said he knocked you on your ass in gym.”

“I know who he is,” Steve gritted out, and Dustin looked him over, wondering whether somebody’d already given him a hard time.

“Jesus, take a chill pill, you had to be the hero, I know. Like Batman. Didja ever think, though, if Batman just killed Joker, he’d have saved, like, a ton of people? You gotta think about these things.” Dustin grinned over, and realized Steve had his hands clenched, white-knuckled, on the railing. “Just some friendly advice, man. Don’t die trying to save the bad guy.”

#harringrove #happy ending #Got away from me #platypan #platypan fic

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midseo · 8 months ago

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Rotary / Linear Vibrator Controller, Rotary / Linear Vibrator Controllers, Manufacturer, Supplier, India

We are Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter of Rotary / Linear Vibrator Controller, Rotary / Linear Vibrator Controllers from Pune, Maharashtra, India.

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babyspiderling · 5 years ago

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The Moonwalker and the Time-Traveler Prologue

California, 2020

“Ms. L/N, I suggest you wake up for my class if you want to pass this course.” I blink up at my professor, it seems that I fell asleep during history class again. “I’m sorry Professor Berkley, I was up all last night with my roommate tinkering all night.” At that he softens, a grandfatherly look in his eye. “Oh Y/N, I understand, but if you truly want to be a history major, you have to stay awake! I will not simply give you a free pass while trying to adjust, just please, try to stay awake in my class.” Standing, I nod. “Yes sir. I’ll do my best.” After this, I am dismissed and head back to my dorm room to hopefully catch a nap.

Kicking the door shut, I move to collapse onto my bed, but am blocked by whatever my engineering major roommate has built in the dorm for his latest project. “Seriously dude? Don’t you have a lab for this kind of stuff?” I kick off my shoes and do my best to move around it, finally, truly collapsing onto my bed. I fall asleep quickly, hopefully revisiting the dream I had during class.

Lord knows how much later, I wake up to my roommate continuing to tinker on his project. Grumbling under my pillow, “Danny, don’t you have a lab for this shit? Why do you have to do it here, I’m sleeping in classes because of this!” He sheepishly lifts his head up to respond. “Uh, well, I uh… It’satimemachine.” Snapping my head up, I question “It’s a what?” Once again he looks shy and guilty. “It’s a, uh, Time Machine. Or at least that’s what I’m wanting it to be. I’m still working on it.” Well, I’m definitely awake now. “So, like, what’s the problem?” Finally putting down his tools, Danny turns to me, “It should work. I ran the simulations and used the one that worked. It’s just… not connecting I guess.” Glancing at the clock, it’s getting late. “Look Danny, I’m going to clean up some of my stuff. Go get some food. I know you haven’t eaten yet.” With a defeated sigh, Danny agrees and leaves the room. I slip into a pair of shorts and an old David Bowie tour shirt I had found at a thrift store. Picking up things here and there, folding abandoned pieces of laundry, I hum and bop around the room, dancing along to “Working Day and Night”, practicing turns and isolations to the beat. Taking a deep breath I prep and spin as fast and as long as I can, but my foot slips out from under me. I tumble to the floor, tripping over some cord. Oh well, it’s probably Danny's “mood lighting”, I plug it in and decide to check out the “Time Machine”. “Ground Control to Major Tom! Prepare for lift-off!” I press random buttons, dicking around and typing 1984, then some other buttons. “Huh, sucks it really doesn’t work. It’d be cool if you really could time travel.” Once again I trip over Danny’s junk on the floor of the project and slam into one last button I had yet to press. On the way down I hit my head, and the world went black as a whirring sound filled my ears.

Waking up, I find myself in a room about the size of mine, decorated much like my side of the dorm, with a funky retro feeling to it. “Danny, this isn’t funny, I get it, I’m gullible for believing the machine was real. Now how the Hell did you change all this so quick… and get rid of the machine?” I continue searching the room for Danny, and realise that the sun had already risen hours ago. I may have been out for longer than I thought, and come crashing into a body. Awesome! Now I can really teach that boy a lesson for pulling that. “Hey, what are you doing in my dorm? Nice shirt by the way, I was at the Anaheim show a couple months ago. That’s where you got the shirt, right?” I blink at the guy my age, still processing the amount of denim and hair products he has decided to use for the day. “What? Oh, uh, my shirt. Wait, did you say you saw him in Anaheim a couple months ago? What year are you from?” He knits his brows together. “1984. Are you ok? Did you get a bad hit or something? Do I need to call someone for you?” I space myself from him, the stimulation of this whole situation too much. “No, no I’m ok. What’s today’s date?” His eyes are still filled with concern as he replies with January 26th 1984, and that I’m still at University of Redlands, just 36 years before I attend. “Wait, January 26th, why does that sound so familiar? I hear Beat It blare down the hall and I can practically see the light bulb above my head. “Do you know how to get to the Shrine Auditorium?”

We zip down the highway on Tyler’s motorcycle, making a trip down to L.A. He had me explain my whole ordeal to him before he just drove me to a random concert venue. It took a bit to convince him, but the second I pulled my smartphone out he was on board. He pulls off to a strip mall and helps me dismount. “Wait, why are we at a mall? I need to get to that venue before security secures it.” He just rolls his eyes. “If you want to get in and stay in without too much attention, you need to look a little bit different. Time to fit in.” He drags me into store after store, and I finally piece together a “Bad” inspired outfit. A black crop top slips off one shoulder, leather pants pull tight around my legs and hips, a blood red leather jacket drapes my shoulders, and matching leather boots clutch my feet. “Tyler, this is too much. I can’t even pay you back.” He rolls his eyes and pays for the clothes, letting me keep my own hoops and rings. “Look, just meeting a time traveler is cool, dressing one is even better. When you get back home and you still want to pay me back, we’ll figure it out. Let’s get you to the moonwalker himself.”

As we pull into the parking lot for the venue, there isn’t another soul in sight. “Hey, here’s my address, if you ever want to mail me, or just let me know that you’re doing ok.” He hands me a slip of paper, and I hug him tightly. “Thank you Tyler, I am forever in your debt. If you’re anywhere near the university in 2020, let me know.” With that, he rides back home into the sunset, and I sneak into the venue before security shows up.

It’s a good thing I like the song Billie Jean, because I have heard it about 72 times in the last hour. During sound check alone I almost lost my mind, with just the baseline intro playing for 30 minutes. As I hear the cue from the director that it is time to actually film the commercial. I hear “Take One!” in the distance and I ditch my jacket behind a stack of crates, my phone hidden in the pocket. I find the side entrance of the stage as take 3 is anounced. I crouch down in a runners position at take 5, launching myself at take 6. Michael nears the pyrotechnic and I slam my body into his as it goes off, now missing him by inches. There are screams of terror and shock as we fly through the air, now spun so that I land on my back, Michael on top of me. His brothers quickly help him up and off of me as I am seized by security, doing my best to put as little weight on my now injured ankle as possible. I raise my hands in surrender, trying to think my way out of this. “Look! Look, I can explain all of this, including how I knew that this take wasn’t going to go well. Let me explain and I will never try to contact any of you again!” Everyone around me exchanges glances, deciding whether to trust me or not. Tito steps forward, his eyes full of scrutiny. “Alright girl, explain.” I sigh and grimace in pain. “I can’t do it out here. Too many people. And my evidence of my claims are in my jacket backstage.” He glances back at Michael, nodding in response to his younger brother. I am escorted backstage, am allowed to sit down to relieve my ankle, and I start my story. “I’m from the future, 36 years in the future to be a bit more specific. I’m not crazy.” Michael crouches down in front of me, “If you’re really a time traveler I would love to talk about the future with you!” He’s nudged and given a look from his older brothers, and his smile is dimmed a bit. “But if you’re from the future, wouldn’t you know songs I haven’t released yet?” I nod my head, but I get hit with the issue of Thriller already being released and the “Bad” sessions not yet started for at least another 6 months, if not more. I flip through the collection of Michael songs I know by heart, trying to find one he’s recorded but not yet released. “Oh! I know about “Love never felt so good”! The one you recorded with Paul Anka! I can sing it for you!” I start at the chorus, my brain too frazzled to remember it’s entirety. Everyone else who knows about the song exchanges looks, one brother even shouting questions of how I knew it. “It’s on my phone, and I’m from the future. All your music’s been released. Well, almost all of it. There’s still tracks from your upcoming session that I have yet to find. Here, I can show you.” Lifting myself from my seat, I reach to retrieve my jacket from behind the crates. Everyone watches me with baited breath, wanting to see what the time traveler will pull out next. I pull out my phone and search for the Xscape album. I press play on the original track and Michael's voice rings out from the speaker. I switch it up to “Working Day and Night”, what I was listening to before I got here.

“Look, I can play you anything you’ve already recorded. I just can’t play you anything you haven’t done yet. Those are the rules.” Michael escorts me back to his dressing room to ask me questions about the future since I am no longer seen as crazy. “Are there flying cars ? What about people living in space? Are there aliens?” I giggle at his excitement. “Well, we do have people living in space, it isn’t commercialized yet, so you and I couldn’t go. We don’t have flying cars, but we do have self driving ones. And there are no known aliens yet. Music is accessible though. If I had any service in 1984, I could play you any song any time from anyone. I could listen to “Wanna be Startin Somethin’” for 3 days straight if I wanted to. All I’d have to do is type it in and press play.” His eyes sparkle in awe of the future. He opens his mouth to ask more questions, but Jermaine and another man enters the room before he can get a word out, “Come on Mike, we need to finish the commercial. This is an EMT we had on site, he’s here to fix her ankle.” As Michael leaves his seat, I grab his hand. “Please, don’t let them turn the pyrotechnics back on. Please.” He nods and pats my hand before leaving the room. The EMT removes my new boots and my ankle swells before my eyes, no longer constrained in the tight leather. We make small talk as he works until the commercial is done recording.

#80's imagine #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #80's x reader #series #80's series #80's fanfiction #time travel au

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