#I did get hit with a heavy dose of feelings for those two tonight

[chyrstis]

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it., K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?, M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?, N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?, S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?, V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?, Y: A character you want to protect

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I can’t pick just one favorite, but while going through But I ain’t finished, I’m devoted, I did find an exchange between Troy and V that I loved from this chapter (and I’m having a day dedicated to those two, I feel):

“Do you know how hard you make my job sometimes?”

She opened her mouth then shut it fast when he glared at her. Rhetorical question. Of course.

“I don’t know if I even want to touch on any of that shit, especially with how it’s continuing to develop on all sides. There’s blind, there’s stupid, but maybe I’m giving myself too much credit for trying not to be either when four groups of people keep on trying to rip this place apart. Am I?”

V looked away.

“And what are you trying to do? Take it back? That still your plan? Even if the whole place goes up in fucking smoke?”

“I’m not the only one-”

“Wake the fuck up, V. You’re not, but I need someone to think about the consequences.” He sounded so worn in that instant that she had to turn, and he didn’t avoid her eyes. “Even for a minute.”

“You want me? Need me?” He didn’t say yes or no, but he didn’t need to. “Not sure we see the same person when I look in the mirror, Chief.”

Up close like this disappointment was hard to ignore as well. “Get them up.”

This one I love, because trying to pin down the massive shift in the relationship between the boss and Troy was a challenge enough, but FUZZ is an activity that I know Troy would have an opinion on, and really wanted to dig into that. Also, Troy is tired. He is so damn tired, and feeling the pull between what he wants to do, and what he feels he should do with every minute he hears and/or sees her or the Saints, and this struggle continues throughout the entire game and series, if we’re being honest.

And also, just this part in general:

Standing next to their car was Troy, and he appeared nothing short of furious. Arms crossed, posture tense, and partially in uniform, he must’ve been on his way home when he took a detour.

Lucky her. Or maybe she would be lucky if she was able to stop coughing her lungs out. V pointed towards Ken, who’d gone pale, then shook her head hard. That didn’t help any when Troy walked right on over.

“Don’t. You,” he pointed right at the cameraman, “get out of here.”

Ken shook off the nervousness and plastered on a smile. “What’s the harm, Chief Bradshaw? Just going around and cleaning up the streets! I know you and our producers didn’t have the best talk, but-”

“You know how much those cameras run, pal? Want to guess how much I give a fuck?”

This just amuses me greatly, because Troy really doesn’t. Not even a little.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Well, dang. Angst is usually something I don’t heavily dive into, but I think one of the prime candidates had to be the V/Troy fic I did around Valentine’s Day why would you do that, I still ask myself where they’ve broken up during the gap between SR3 and 4, Troy’s started reluctantly dating someone else, and they end up meeting again at the yearly Policeman’s Ball. He’s not expecting her there, but she is, and they spend the rest of the night dancing around each other literally (and figuratively).

The next drink he took finished the glass and he found himself itching for something else. A cigarette. He'd tried cutting down again about a week ago, but the urge was back and getting worse. He knew why, but at least it'd be an itch he could scratch.

V's eyes drifted towards him and he held them for a good minute until he realized someone was talking to him. “Sorry, what?”

Anne shifted in her seat so she could face him better. “She won't tell me the answer.”

“To what?” he asked, keeping his attention on Anne.

“To why you keep on putting up with my bullshit,” V answered, her grin taking on an edge. “Thought it was obvious.”

Troy had no choice but to look at her then. “It is. Ultor pays me enough for it.” He pushed his seat back and got up, excusing himself before leaving.

Um, ow.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

For SR, I do have an early SR1 fic where V actually stumbles into the first few minutes of the game. I also have a pre-SR4 one where Troy comes to visit her and see what some of the hubbub’s about when she’s ready to take office, and either of those would be fun to do, but would also tug at the old emotions a bit.

For FC5 I have a ton. I feel like this is summer fling, but would love to stick with it for a while. The one that I’ve been mostly working on today is a post-mission idea where the Deputy recovers the Widowmaker (a pretty sweet truck with a paint job you have to see to believe) and proceeds to get into some drunken shenanigans with her partners in crime, namely Sharky and Hurk. There may be feelings involved at some point as well, but she’s not telling.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

The rest of But I ain’t finished-

No, honestly. There have been some tough places where I wished I had more motivation to write, but I wouldn’t give my silly doof, or any of these stories away.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Most of the romance tropes I’m pretty weak for. Slow-burn fics are totally my jam, and I could read over a hundred chapters of build-up just to get to the good stuff. On the flip-side, I also do enjoy when the feelings end up rushing in after, and it all gets complicated fast.

I do also love absurd amounts of UST and banter, and if one half of the pair’s a little in denial of just how much the other person’s started to mean to them all the better. By which I actually mean, I’ll be sitting there screaming internally in front of my computer screen.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh, goodness no. I’ve read beautiful things by some very talented people, and I couldn’t even begin to think I’d do justice to their work. It also wouldn’t feel right unless it was done under the premise of it being a remix, that they’d give their blessing for, and even still I’d sweat bullets the entire time.

Y: A character you want to protect           

Troy. This times a thousand, mostly because the poor guy’s been through enough, and I will always have a soft spot for him.

In recent times, I find that I’m feeling very much the same about Sharky. The poor guy is a total sweetheart and a disco disaster, and he deserves to be happy.

[notquitecanon]

Spiked punch // Jasper Hale x Reader

I had snap chat memories from prom and I want to make out with a vampire cowboy

TW: alc mention , no NSFW just a lil steamy, heavy handed pg13

It was cliche really, how you snuck away from Forks High's prom with Jasper Hale. Pressing your smile against his lips behind the venue as you leaned back against a wide Oak tree that would hide the two of you from both party goers and chaperones alike. You were sure you were going to wrinkle the front of his suit with how desperately you were grasping it to keep him close while he briefly indulged you. It was very human- very teenage hormoney human.

Beautiful dress, perfect date, good music, better company, pleasantly spiked punch bowl (emphasis on the pleasantly spiked punch bowl)... Everything was perfect as you deepened the kiss, heart rate picking up, movements becoming frenzied, closing the limited distance between you until Jasper made a noise deep in his throat somewhere between a growl and a groan.

"Jazz..." You whined breathily as you felt him pull away from you like he always did, gentle at first but when the breeze hit you and your eyes fluttered open- the human facade was shattered, seeing as your boyfriend had made it ten feet away and halfway up a tree in under five seconds. It took a moment for your human eyes to find him.

Jasper was always careful with you, like one wrong move and you would kill over. He was careful when he drove you places. He was gentle when he would pick you up or run with you, and held your hand like it was made out of million year old glass. He was cautious getting too comfortable lest he slip up. Which was why, things never got anymore heated than he allowed, and thanks to that pesky power of his he always knew exactly when to cut things off before you got too... eager.

And as usual, he was waiting to give you that scolding golden-eyed glare as you tried to calm your breathing and wild flush, carefully smoothing the hair Alice had spent hours fixing. He didn't appreciate that you were decidedly more determined tonight- nor did he appreciate how easily he was considering folding when you gave him those innocent eyes.

Jasper had to look away before he scooped you up and ran halfway to Canada with you, but you read his discipline as something else. Immediately your emotions went from tempting to him to breaking his heart as he felt the deep streak of rejection and embarrassment coursing through you. You thought he didn't want to kiss you against that tree until you couldn't think straight?

"(Y/N), you don't know how much I want to, believe me, you have no idea," He tried assuring you, dropping out of the tree and forfeiting a little of the ground he covered. Just close enough to catch your hand in his and press the softest kiss against your knuckles as he let you feel just how much he loved you and wanted you.

"Then why not? Jasper, I trust you." You sighed, taking a few steps closer and lacing your fingers through his so he wouldn't be able to flash away again- not without taking your hand with him at least. The blonde dipped his chin so he could look down at you while you looked up at him through your lashes, "Completely."

"I appreciate the faith, but you're seriously overestimating my control, darlin'." He reminded you, taking another two steps back so there was at least some space between you and him even if he was still rubbing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Jasper had to use every ounce of discipline from his 160 years to pretend that the pout on your lips wasn't effecting him. Not to mention the way you'd danced with him, smiled at him, flirted with him- and ESPECIALLY ignoring the gorgeous dress Alice had you in.

"And, I think you're seriously underestimating yourself." You argued defiantly once again closing the distance between the vampire and yourself. He gave you a stiff, warning look as you copied his earlier gesture, painting his knuckles with an ironic red smear from your lipstick, never breaking eye contact- but this time your eyes had gone from temptingly innocent to flashing dangerously.

“(Y/N)-“ his voice was strained as he watched your display- but he didn’t tell you to stop nor did he remove himself from the situation. He kept perfectly still as you tugged yourself closer to him, heels (or punch) making you stumble flush against his chest. Not your original goal, but you could work with it.

From this angle, you could press another soft kiss right above the collar of his dress shirt- no doubt designer, he wore it better than any model-right where his pulse point would be if he was human. His hands went to your hips and you expected him to push you away, but he didn’t, only holding you where you were.

So you moved to your next target, the marble point of his jawline which clenched under your lips. You paused, even in heels you couldn’t reach any further without Jasper’s cooperation. Even in heels, he was easily a head (if not more) taller than you. You couldn’t help it; you breathed a giggle against his neck, momentarily resting your cheek against his chest.

"Darlin'." His voice was somewhere between begging for more and a warning. When he pressed his lips roughly against your forehead, you guessed he opted for more. So, you wrapped his tie around one of your hands and tugged twice- not harshly, as you knew he wouldn't budge if he didn't want to, no matter how hard you pulled. This was more of a request.

To your surprise the blonde adhered to your wordless request, tipping his face down to you- golden eyes narrowing in on yours as he watched you with dark, curious eyes. Now with his lips in reach, you kept your grasp on his tie, holding it flush against your chest as if that would keep the vampire where you wanted him. With your free hand, you reached up and caressed his beautifully cold face- from the perfects Cupid's bow of his lips to the sharp outline of his cheekbone. Your heart couldn't help but soften at how he leaned into your warm touch before you leaned forward for his lips. One of his hands came up, gently guiding your chin as his eyes instinctively closed.

When you were close enough to almost feel his lips, you diverted to his cheek before pulling a little bit away with another innocent smirk. Jasper gave you a look of both disappointment and betrayal.

"Not so fun is it?" You hummed, dropping his tie in favor of smoothing out the wrinkles on his suit. It took a moment to work out the wrinkles you'd caused before taking the chance to slowly drag your hands down his chest. As chest turned to torso, you slipped your hands under his suit jacket which pushed your chest flush against his as your wandering hands started climbing back up his back.

"Sugar."

That was new. Jasper's voice was low and still warning- but this wasn't his usual warning- no you were treading into new exhilarating territory. Well, Jasper would probably use the words wantonly, stupidly dangerous. He'd never used this name or tone with you, and his eyes never flashed like that. Both signs you were heading in the right direction.

Gingerly, your hands snaked back around front before going around his neck. Jasper's perfect eyebrow quirked as your fingers started twisting and tugging the blonde curls at the base of his neck.

Suddenly, your back was against that tree again, plush moss protecting your skin from the rough bark as your mind processed what had happened. In a split second, Jasper had flipped you around, pinned you to the tree, and had both of your wrists pinned above your head with just one of his hands. All the while, he kept a careful watch on your emotions- exhilaration, love, and now that you'd realized what happened, shock. Jasper shook his head to the side, "A healthy dose of fear could do you some good."

"I'm not afraid of you, Jas." You whispered, breathless as your eyes flicked between his and his lips. Craning your neck, you caught his lips with yours and surprisingly he didn't pull away. The gentleman he was, he even let you maintain your illusion of control as he kept with you pace even as he held you captive.

You steadily moved yourself against him, lips in synchrony, chest flush against him only separated by a couple layers of fabric. Eventually, you couldn't keep the tempo you wanted if you kept straining up to his lips. A high pitched half whine, half moan escaped your throat that pushed the vampire over the edge.

With a low growl, he dropped your wrists in favor of hoisting you up like a bride- not that you minded as your arms fell neatly around his neck. Your forehead fell against his cheek as you struggled to catch your breath, "See, totally in control."

Smiling, you pressed kisses from the corner of his mouth down his jawline and then down his neck. Your faith in him was always astounding, more than he deserved. He could hear and feel your heavy pulse, smell every hormone, feel every emotion, and see the flush creeping up your neck. He could do this, he would never hurt you. This time, the blonde smirked even though you couldn't see it.

"You just brought yourself a death wish, sugar."

And with that, his lips attacked yours with aa fervor he'd never dared have before.

Thank God for spiked punch.

[hyucks-archive]

ceraunophile.

word count: 2,274

genre: angst

member(s): huang renjun

warning(s): none!

You lift the hood of your hoodie over your head. Taking in a breath, you’re hit with the scent of rain. It’s one of the heaviest downpours you’ve experienced in a while. Your eyes are fixed on the night sky; it’s so dark tonight. There are barely any traces of light sources – the moon is probably hiding somewhere, and the brightness of the stars are probably masked by the angry drops of rain. You recognise this landscape; the thunder and lightning should be making its presence known in a while.

There’s the sound of grass cracking, hurried footsteps struggling to find its way to the only safe space amid this hilly area. You remain under the pavilion, focusing your attention in the direction of the heavy panting. You shut your eyes when the light source that the invader is utilising accidentally meets your eyes. The heavy breaths of the stranger rings in your ear; you’re sure he, she, or maybe even it, is staring at you inquisitively right now.

You open your eyes, your right brow twitching at the boy that has arrived, invading your little pavilion. He’s so busy dusting himself off, that he doesn’t notice your stare. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth out the dampened tangles. You continue to watch silently – unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever it is, you recognise the boy. You’d definitely recognise him anywhere, any time of the day; the way his frame is so distinctive, and the way the small sounds of displeasure that escapes his lips, further affirms your gut feeling.

Finally, he looks up. He meets eyes with you. He reacts in the way you’d least desire for him to.

“Hey!” he exclaims, all too excitedly. “What a coincidence. What are you doing here?” he asks, immediately jumping to the point, which is one of his fortes. Naturally, he takes a few steps towards you. He sets his bag on the ground, shimmying his way out of the tattered poncho that barely shielded him from the rain.

You’re not sure what to tell him. Option number one: This pavilion is basically my second home; I put myself through the torture of climbing this stupid hill daily, hoping that there’d be a thunderstorm. Option number two: I come to this pavilion every day in hopes that it would rain. Option number three: I make daily hikes just to get to this pavilion. Scrap those. All three make you sound like a lunatic. You have no choice but to settle for option number four.

“Why do you care?”

A look of slight astonishment flashes across Renjun’s expression. He wasn’t expecting the hostility. He manages to recompose himself just as quick, though. “It’s basically storming out there,” he says, “It’s dangerous to be out here alone with such weather.”

There it is. The nonchalant concern that you hate. Sometimes, you wonder if Renjun is doing it on purpose.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, changing the topic. Thankfully, Renjun rides along with it. “I decided to hike, but then this happened,” he says, gesturing in the direction of the rain with his chin. With his arms akimbo, he shakes his head, “Never should’ve listened to Lee Donghyuck. I knew it was weird the minute he insisted that today would be a great day to hike. He probably checked the weather ahead of time.”

You nod your head. Renjun manages a smile despite his disappointment at his failed hiking trip. “I guess Donghyuck did something right, still. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been able to meet you here. It’s been like what? A year?”

He’s looking at you expectantly. To be exact, it’s been 11 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days. Not that it matters to him, anyway. He’s at it again – the nonchalant, heart-fluttering, passing statements. To him, they hold no weight. But to you, they basically mean everything. Your lips twitch at that; it’s so sad to spell it out like that, even though it’s been a long-established fact.

“Yeah,” you dismiss, reverting your attention back to the pouring rain. There’s going to be a crack in the sky, and then your favourite part of the night will arrive. “What are you staring at?” Renjun asks, following your line of vision. All he sees is the deep blue, almost black, night sky. But what you see, is a beautiful horizon, sparking hints of light. Then comes the rumbling of the thunder; the confirmation that indeed, the horizon will soon be decorated with the prettiest stray rays of light. Renjun shivers at the sound from the sky.

“I’m guessing you really like rain?” Renjun speaks up, trying to hold a conversation with you to distract himself from the loud roars from the sky. Still maintaining your focus on the horizon, awaiting the greeting of the lightning, you shake your head, “It’s too loud,” you answer. Renjun raises a brow. Renjun takes it that you’re referring to the fact that because of the heavy downpour, the two of you have to raise your voices in order to hear each other. So, he chooses to continue with, “Maybe if we move to the other side of the pavilion, it’ll be softer.”

Just as he finishes his sentence, there’s the crack of thunder, one of the loudest cracks you’ve heard in a while. Your heart calms at the sound of it.

Renjun lets out a yelp, cowering into himself. Then comes the second crack of thunder, and he hurries to cup both of his ears, shutting his eyes tight, as the third crack of thunder greets the two of you. You close your eyes, immersing yourself in the moment, fully appreciating the rare moment where there’s three consecutive cracks of thunder. Renjun glances up at you – he furrows his brows at how calm and composed you are. The fact that you look like you’re actually enjoying the moment further fuels his horror.

“Wait, are you enjoying this?” he can’t help but ask.

With your racing heartbeat, and your mind that is busy replaying the sounds of the thunder and the sight of the beautiful lightning, you don’t hear Renjun. His features contort further as he makes a second attempt at getting your attention. He takes a step forward, reaching forth to place a light hold on your arm. Your eyes immediately flutter open.

“Don’t you think it’s too loud?” he asks.

“The rain?” you take a pause, pursing your lips, “It’s always too loud. It drowns out the sounds of the thunder, and it also hazes the view of the lightning.”

Renjun stares at you in confusion. Did he hear you right?

“Aren’t the thunder and lightning the most amazing things?” you gush, expression lighting up just from the thought of it. Renjun’s mouth parts slightly to give you an answer, but he isn’t sure what he should say. He lets out an awkward cough. At least, you were too busy appreciating the thunder and lightning, to notice his act of cowardice. He gets shocked easily; he jumps at the slightest loud sounds.

“Let’s sit,” you suggest, fully satisfied for the night. You’ve gotten your daily dose of thunder and lightning, so all that’s left is for the rain to clear, so that you can make your way home. Renjun follows behind as you lead the way to the inner side of the pavilion. The two of you take a seat by the bench. It’s been long since you’ve sat beside Renjun like that. You miss it, there’s no lie.

“I didn’t know you’re a lover of thunder and lightning,” Renjun comments, adjusting himself into a comfortable position. You scoff, plastering on a smile, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Renjun.”

The boy raises both brows, his eyes widening. He thought he did. Or at least, he thought he had made the effort to get to know you enough back then. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just didn’t try hard enough, so there’s still loads he has yet to find out about you. It’s not like he has the opportunity to do so anymore, anyway. The both of you are on different paths of your respective lives.

Instead, he chooses to at least try to understand your love for something that the majority of people would be afraid of. “So why do you like thunder and lightning so much?” he asks.

You ponder for a moment, mentally going through your reply in order to ensure proper and comprehensible phrasing of your words. “When there are rainstorms, it feels like the rain, together with the thunder and lightning, are washing away the entirety of the day. When it ends, it’s like a clean slate. A fresh start, with no remnants of yesterday.”

“It sounds like you want to wash away every yesterday,” Renjun comments, a small chuckle decorating the end of his sentence. You turn to look at him, a pursed smile on your lips. You nod your head, “Kind of, I guess.” Renjun’s smile softens at that.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever heard rainstorms being described in such a way.”

You shrug, “That’s not the only reason why I love thunder and lightning.” You take a pause, your vision falling to focus on your shoes. “Thunder and lightning also reminds me of someone.”

Renjun’s interest is piqued. He smiles, “Who?”

You shift your gaze to the night sky. “You know how the sky lights up for a brief moment when the lightning flashes, right?” Renjun hums in acknowledgement. “I was the dull night sky, and his smile was my lightning.” The b-roll of the variety of Renjun’s smiles you have stored in a safe section in your memory begin to play in your head. You’re still able to vividly recall the first time you had fallen for his smile.

When you were tasked to move the tables and chairs out of the classroom, everyone else had left you to it, alone. But then came Huang Renjun, along with his friends, who were bright and chirpy. “We’ll help you,” he had said, with a smile that seemed to light up the lonely classroom. You felt your heart flutter in that moment.

Renjun notices the faint smile that finds its way to your lips as you reminisce the past. He wonders who this person, who is able to elicit such an expression from you without being present, is. “He sounds like a nice guy,” Renjun says, for lack of a better reaction. You turn to him – it’s bitter, the way you have to nod your head, even though the ‘person’ is sitting right in front of you. But he’d never know that.

“What about thunder?” he asks, “What does thunder represent?”

You take in a breath, feeling a bitter twist in your heart.

“Thunder occurs for a fleeting moment. It’s not as brief as lightning, but it appears and disappears abruptly, when you least expect it to,” you explain, eyes on the ground. As though in tune with your speech, the thunder rumbles. Renjun furrows his brows at the sky. You smile. “He always appeared at the most unexpected, random moments, that would put the biggest smile on my face,” you say. The memory of how Renjun would suddenly pop by to say hi, how he’d invite you along with the boys for a meal if they happened to see you, how’d he know exactly where to find you during breaks whenever he needed something from you.

“And then he’s out of touch, out of nowhere,” you finish off, tapping the tip of your foot on the ground.

Sometimes, Renjun wouldn’t acknowledge you when you passed by. Sometimes, Renjun would say the most indirect things that’d hurt you. And sometimes, it didn’t even feel like you were friends with the boy. The most painful thing out of it all was that for the most part, he was caring, he was sweet, and he would look out for you. The little things he’d say to encourage you would make your heart swell, and the little nonchalance he showed to your feelings would make your heart crack. He never did it intentionally. You’re well aware of that.

And yet, it doesn’t change the fact that some way, somehow, you believed that Renjun was something that would last.

He used to be your thunder and lightning – your peace.

But he isn’t anymore.

“That’s kind of a bittersweet way to describe him,” Renjun says, clasping his hands together.

That’s exactly what he does. He says things in the passing, absolutely harmlessly, but his words would pierce through your heart. You scoff. That’s the price you pay for having a crush on someone whom you know will never look at you, in the same way you look at them.

Renjun reaches a hand out, placing a gentle pat on your shoulder, as he attempts to comfort you with, “You’ll get over him, eventually.”

Renjun is your thunder and lightning. He still is. And that is exactly why you can’t get over him. You love thunder and lightning so much, you can never resist the temptation to run in the direction of where your thunder and lightning is. You don’t, and will never have the power to shield yourself away from it. It’ll make its presence known, no matter what.

You swallow, taking in another breath.

“Thanks,” you manage out.

“Shall I walk you home? It’s late,” he offers.

You shake your head. You don’t need to prolong the pain.

Huang Renjun, you were the calm before the storm. It stormed. And now, you’re the distraught after the storm.

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[cosmiclatte28]

Lost Hybrid (Taeyong x hybrid!reader)

warning : mentions of abuse and blood, if those two triggers you please check out my other works instead. 

Happy reading! 

"Who left you here all alone in the dark little one," a tall stranger bends to lift your chin up to examine your face in the dark hallway. You are trembling from the cold you have from running away without a proper clothes, just to get drenched in the heavy rain. Your face is covered in blood and hair, your eyes are purple from punches, and your lips are pale. You can only hug your knees closer to your body and hide from the tall man standing in front of you with an umbrella. There was something that warm your heart when you see his worried face in blur sight as he sacrifices his dry pants to kneel and level up to your eye sight. His deep tone makes you shiver. "Who is heartless enough to hurt and throw a small hybrid like you," he slowly reaches out to check your face and your eyes shot wide when you see the bright light from his phone. You quickly shut your eyes and he drops his umbrella to check your pulse. He gasps when he realizes your eyes were not fully responding to his lights. Were you blind? "Oh no, your pulse is too weak, let me bring you to the hospital." He excuses himself and scoops you up into his arms and with his umbrella covering the two of you, he runs to his car parked nearby.

You close your eyes, head heavy from the lost of blood and lack of energy. You just made a run from your previous owner, Minho was a nice caretaker until his wife died from saving you from a car accident and since then he always blames you on his wife's death. For one month, you cope up with Minho's domestic and alcoholic abuse. Today, you got the chance to run away when he blacked out after drinking too much and forgot to lock your doors. You haven't eaten in two days and only got water from sneaking into the bathroom. He did not feed you for no reason and he has been lashing and whipping on you. Not to mention he likes to throw things to you. He was a caring master, but now all you know is he is a monster. You're happy you make a run from his living side to this part of town you didn't know. You were running around the city in a critical condition, you left after getting hits and slaps from him. Your forehead was banged into a glass vase, thus you have a big cut with fresh blood gushing out. You lose your balance after forty minutes of running away and you find a dead end. You fall to your knees and hold your throbbing head. The rain is pouring over you and you can only hope someone is kind enough to help you. You open your eyes and find yourself already in a room filled with medical instruments and distinct sterilized smell. There's no one in your room and when you are processing where you are, a nurse comes into the room. "Oh, thank goodness you are awake." she enters with a bunch of medicine. "Where am I, what day is it today?" you slowly ask her. "You're in the emergency room. Two days ago a man brought you here for us to take care. and it's Friday already." She answers you while injecting some more doses into the IV. "This man, will he come back?" The nurse shakes her head, "We don't know. He did pay for all of your charges though, maybe he will come and see you. Now do take a rest." You cannot take a rest. Not before you find the man who saved you and thanked him for doing so. You feel like he is an angel sent to you, to save you from hell, but why is he not coming back. You curl inside your blanket and wait for anyone other than the nurse to come in and check on your condition. It's almost dinner time when suddenly the door opens and your eyes meet a new figure. "My savior!" you shout a bit too loud, happiness and gratefulness portrayed all across your face. He smiled and walks closer to your bed. He gently pats your head and play with the small cat ears you have. "Hey cutie, are you good now?" he scratches your ear lightly and you purr. He chuckles when you purr and your cheeks turn red. "Yeah I am good. Thank you for not leaving me to die that night." you fiddle with the blanket covering you. Your ears twitch when he reaches to scratch your chin now. "Don't mention that. I mean I felt so sad when I saw you that night." you lean into his touch more and your ears are flat to your hair, you're enjoying his soft touch way more than the rough blows Minho gave to you. "So, where's your boss? Oh before that I am Taeyong, what's your name?" he grabs a chair to sit by your side. You let your right hand lay over his resting hand, wanting to make sure he is going to stay until you finish talking. "I am (y/n), and I don't have an owner anymore. I have no place to live." you sigh and Taeyong gives you a small pat of comfort on your small hand. "Did your previous owner did this to you?" He carefully traces the evidence of abuse on your body. You nod your head, "He was an angel, but he is a monster now. I can understand though, for I made his wife die. She saved me from getting hit by a car. Since then Minho hated me so much, he tortured me and abused me to pay for her death." Taeyong's eyes waters and he wipes a tear that left his eyes "Why are you crying? I escaped already" He sniffled, "I can't imagine how hard was it for you. You're so small and why didn't you escape faster?" "I can't he always locked me in. I found the fortunate time to run when he forgot to lock me and he passed out from the alcohol." you try to cheer him up, seeing Taeyong cries makes your heart burns. "It's okay Taeyong, I am safe now I guess. Thank you for helping me." you rub your thumbs over his hand, you did not realize you were holding his hand the whole time. "You know what," Taeyong wipes his last tear and softly looks into your eyes, "I can make sure you're safe." Your tail sways under the blanket and your ears perk up, your eyes are wide and curious, "Tell me how!" Taeyong brings his hand to cradle your cheek and softly wipe your faded scar, "You can live with me. I will be a good owner, I can give you shelter, food, and love." Now it's your turn to cry, you hug his hand and happily cry into his embrace when he pulls you into a comfortable hug. 'Don't cry... you deserve to be treated nicely with love" he wipes your tear and kisses your forehead. His long fingers once more pinch your ears and you giggle from it. You look into his twinkling loving eyes and you want to cry more, how can you be this lucky and find a real angel "I love you master," you snuggle into his neck. Taeyong runs a hand over your shoulder, "I love you too kitten, now let me take care of the hospital and we can go home tonight." You nod your head furiously and he chuckles, "Let go off me for a while until I finish your papers and we can go." The nurse helps you dress up into your previous clothes and she patiently combs your hair. You demand to take a shower and she reluctantly lets you. You hate it though how they don't have a scented soap at all, but you want to at least look descent to your new owner. You wait for Taeyong to finish the administrations. He smiles all the journey to home and you share your life story with him. You learn too that he is the son of the most leading food corporation in Incheon and that explains the nice linen you felt on his clothes and the expensive perfume he wore. "Now, it's not too late yet, let me take you to eat and buy some clothes and basic necessities." You nod your head and with that he fills your stomach with good foods and once home, you gladly unbox all the new stuffs he bought for you. You clap your hands when you finish placing a new toothbrush, yellow towel, and scented soaps all neatly arranged next to his belongings. "I am so happy Taeyong! I love you so much!" You jump into his arms after exiting the shower in a fresh set of lilac pajamas. You look so soft and small under the pajamas and Taeyong carries and spins you around. Happiness was written on both of your faces and soon life will no longer be miserable to you and dull for Taeyong.

[ally-127]

aaa, your hoshi story has got me feeling some type of way :’’) i’m a sucker for those kinds of prompts and, if you’re willing to write it, i’d love a story with that premise except the reader tries to get his attention/test out his lifestyle so they dress up and happen to get hit on by some random person and then the confession happens ! with any seventeen member you want if you decide to do it :)

frisson

(noun) a brief moment of emotional excitement

in the night in itaewon universe

pairing: jun x reader ; kihyun x reader (surprise!) word count: 2.5k (yikes) warnings: alcohol consumption ; swearing ; jun being a jerk music: ‘afraid’ by day6 a/n: if you were hoping for a happy ending like hoshi’s, anon, i’m really sorry please forgive me. 😟 on a happier note, i’d like to thank minhyuk and kihyun for their cameos in this.

jun was never around anymore.

ever since soonyoung introduced him to itaewon, you had spent most nights cooped up alone in your shared apartment, either working or wrapped in a blanket burrito and binge-watched korean drama until sunrise.

he would arrive back into the apartment right after you’ve switched off the tv, footing unstable and stumbling about the corridor. your eyelids would be droopy and your footsteps would be heavy from the complete deprivation of sleep as you approached him.

sometimes you wondered if you were as drunk as he was.

“where have you been?” you would then ask him even though you already knew the answer, pausing by your bedroom door.

“itaewon,” jun reeked of alcohol and second-hand smoke. he was dressed in black from head-to-toe, his hair a hot mess, and his chest glistening with sweat in the moonlight. even in this ungodly hour, he still looked good enough to devour.

“what’s so fun about it?” you tucked your hands into the pockets of the hoodie you stole from him. he didn’t seem to notice, though, busy hobbling to his room across of yours.

“everything,” his words were slurred from the vodka thriving in his bloodstream.

he’d leave the next day for practice before you could even get out of bed. you didn’t blame him, it was his job and yet the disappointment never failed to seize your chest every time.

there were plenty of days that jun had spent at home with you, especially when you both had similar off-days. now, he wasn’t around during that too. he was clubbing when he wasn’t working and he was working when he wasn’t clubbing.

and you missed him.

“jun,” you called from the couch, looking up from the laptop propped on the arm of the couch.

it was about nine p.m., you had already begun winding down by sending one last email. your body ached from sitting all day at the office you might as well have melted into the couch.

he had his hand on the doorknob of the front door, eyes wide as if he’s just been caught in the act of doing wrong. “what is it?” his arm was limp by his side as he ditched the door and made his way to your side. “do you need help with something?”

“no,” you sighed. “i was just wondering where you were going.”

“the usual,” jun shrugged.

“you’re never home anymore,” you looked up at him and closed your laptop shut.

he looked different that night. his brown hair was styled away from his eyes, revealing his glamorous forehead. he was dressed in the usual black; sporting a silk shirt and skinny jeans, on his feet were glossy chelsea boots.

your heart palpitated unusually fast. it was not the first time that it had, around him.

“it’s not like we’re dating or something,” jun scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and then your heart fell ten feet down to the ground.

there was something venomous in the way he said it, as if you had just asked him to do something atrocious. your chest caved in, hollow in hurt.

“right,” you cleared your throat and looked away, hands becoming clammy. “we’re not.”

“so can i go now?” he jutted a thumb at the door, silent demand across his features.

“y-yeah,” you shrugged, your heartbeat deafening in your ears.

it ached, but you were used to it.

wen junhui was your roommate-turned-best friend. you started to have feelings for him around last year, but it was obvious it would be a one-sided affair.

he was wild and carefree, spontaneity and fun the only aims he ever had in mind. meanwhile you, in your nine-to-five job, were a person who wished to have their life together, organised into a little book called a planner.

you figured you were too uptight for his liking. aside from binge-watching until daylight, your daily life was far too structured. meetings in the morning, lunch break at two and company dinners at eight didn’t seem to align with his own schedule and his life.

so you let him go.

well, you tried to let him go.

as you sat by the couch, staring wistfully at the shut door where the ghost of junhui still lingered, you wondered just where things went wrong with moving on.

you replayed the things he said to you before he left in your head like a broken record. you hugged your knees to your chest and felt something ignite.

there was a sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins, a desire to change things up tonight.

next thing you knew, you were digging in the depths of your closet for appropriate clothing to wear in a night club.

jun’s silk shirt from earlier flashed in your mind and you managed to fish out something similar, one with a plunging neckline and long sleeves. among that pile of unworn clothes you found a leather pencil skirt from college, back when frat parties were your thing.

you weren’t all that uptight. you just knew when to loosen up and when not to.

tonight, however, you went darker on the eyeshadow and contoured your cheekbones, tied everything together by lining your lips with a seductive shade of rose. you let your hair down from its usual hairstyle of a messy bun, curling it loosely and tossing it over your shoulder.

for once, it was excitement that lit behind your eyes when you glanced at yourself through the mirror.

saint laurent perfume on your pulse points and knife-sharp stilettos on your feet, you were out the door in less than thirty.

it was time to have some fun.

you held your phone up to your ear as you stood by the sidewalk outside your apartment.

soonyoung picked up on the second ring.

hastily you asked for his location and he gave it to you without a second thought, to your relief. you expected it, anyway. there was no use of being subtle if he was completely wasted.

as you sat in the cab, you quickly contemplate what the hell you were about to get yourself into.

despite the differences in work ethics, the two of you spent so much time together it was natural to have jun’s influence over you.

he made you feel alive.

in all the times you spent with him, he made you laugh like there’s no tomorrow with that witty sense of humour of his. he, ever so lovingly, nudged you out of your comfort zone and nudged you here.

it was time you saw the world through his eyes.

there were stares and you could feel them as you walked in, wen junhui’s name upon your lips as you told the bouncer who you were here with.

it was hot and sweaty in here, almost claustrophobic as the bass, the lights, and the people—dressed similarly to you—filled the room.

you took careful steps into the club, eyeing the bar and then making a beeline toward it. you needed a drink before you could have the energy to scour the club to find him.

you paid attention to the people around you and realised how good they actually look, appearance-wise. even the tall bartender was hot. you discovered his name as he approached you with a charming smile on his gorgeous face and asked you what drink you’d like.

his name was minhyuk.

a gin and tonic was what you ordered. you took a light sip, sparing the handsome bartender a couple of glances before you turned in your seat to run your eyes across the dance floor behind. maybe junhui was somewhere among the crowd.

he’s a dancer, he should be.

“are you waiting for someone?” a voice, foreign, asked. it was almost melodious. a vocalist's voice.

you angled your head to the side. and god, what’s up with all these beautiful people tonight? another fine specimen of man, as good looking as one can be, sat to your left.

“i’m kihyun,” he extended his hand.

oh good. at least he had the decency to introduce himself before anything else.

in this unpredictable setting, looks could definitely deceive, and it was best if you kept your guard all the way up.

you shook his hand, murmuring your own name in response. his palm grazed yours, teasing, for a second before he let go.

“may i buy you a drink?” he asked. “that is if you’re not waiting for someone, of course.”

what a gentleman. you immediately swallowed back all your doubts.

“sure, why not?” you tipped back your first glass of gin and tonic and downed it all in one go.

whoever you were waiting for—jun—wasn’t anywhere to be seen anyway.

as if on cue, minhyuk the bartender appeared in front of you once again. “another one?” instead of you, he seemed to be looking at kihyun.

“it’s on me,” the gentleman beside you gave the bartender a curt nod.

“comin’ right up,” minhyuk chirped, plucking your empty glass from the bar top and twirling away dramatically.

you and kihyun shared a moment of laughter over the bartender’s antics.

if you thought kihyun with a straight face was handsome, his full-blown smile was simply impeccable. his perfectly straight teeth shone under the dim lights and it might’ve been the slight dose of gin talking, but you might have to go home with him tonight.

kihyun kept a respectful distance away from you the entire time you had your drinks, arms folded across each other on the bar top as his feline eyes fixed on you intently. he listened to you go on about your day and how you never expected to end up here.

“well, i’m glad you did,” he said, looking nowhere but at you. “you look beautiful.”

“thank you,” you hummed and sipped your drink to hide your embarrassment.

you took a moment to search the place for a

familiar figure once more and again, he was nowhere to be seen.

“would you like to—“ kihyun cleared his throat. “—you know, dance with me?”

then came the point where you gave up completely.

“i would love—“

“sorry,” it seemed someone else had come into the equation. “she’s taken.”

you tensed up in your seat, startled.

there junhui stood, in the safe gap between you and kihyun, an indistinct look painted across his face. you saw him earlier tonight, so you weren’t too surprised that he looked ravishing under this lighting but you still felt like you swallowed your entire heart:

you were at a loss for words.

“and who are you?” the man beside you glanced up at your roommate.

you completely ignored jun and your pounding heart, facing kihyun instead.

if you were going to argue with him, you made sure it was not in front of a lovely guy you’d just met and ruin the chances you probably had with him.

“kihyun,” you decided to say while your eyes remained on jun. “give me your phone.”

“uh,” he shifted in his seat to gain access to his pocket. he slid his phone out and handed it to you. “sure.”

“call me,” you dialled your number into his phone, slipping it back onto his hand. you glared at jun who had his eyebrows raised at you as if demanding to know what the hell is going on. “this is my roommate, by the way, and we’re just about to head out.”

the poor guy looked severely confused.

regardless, you stood up from your seat and wrapped your fingers around jun’s arm. you made sure a little fingernails pressed into his skin to let him know your current annoyance.

“i’ll see you around,” you waved kihyun a goodbye.

“no you won’t,” jun sniped, lips curling and arched eyebrows still raised.

you gave the other guy an apologetic smile before dragging junhui out of the club, nails now digging into his skin. you stormed past the entrance, to the empty sidewalk right in front of it.

“ouch,” jun mumbled, voice mocking you in the most absurd way possible. he rubbed his arm. “did you have to grip my arm so hard?”

“what the hell is your problem?” you were fuming. but at the same time, you were nervous. nervous to be standing in front of a love that will never be yours, dressed in an utterly different manner than what he was used to.

he noticed it too. “you look different.”

“of course i look different,” you snapped. “it’s none of your business, either way.”

“yes it is,” jun kept a neutral expression.

and you couldn’t believe it.

you laughed, one without a single trace of humour.

“how is anything i do your business?” you went on. “you’re never home and we’ve barely even spoken over the past few months, it’s like we don’t know each other anymore so i don’t understand why—”

“i’m sorry,” junhui cut you off. “i’ve been a ghost lately.”

“you don’t say,” there were tears gathering behind your eyes and you had no idea why.

“i’m sorry,” he reached out to hold your wrist in his hand before you could turn away from him. “i really am.”

“but why did you interfere between me and kihyun?” you asked.

his face dropped.

“because i was jealous,” jun finally said. “i was fucking jealous of him that he was able to catch your eye and make you smile the way you smile at me.i’m jealous he’s one step away from taking you home.”

“we’re not dating, jun.” you pulled his hand away from your wrist as you spat his words back at him. “anything i do with him has nothing to do with you.”

a tear escaped the corner of your eye as you realised this one vital thing.

junhui only paid attention to you when you paid yours on someone else.

you walked away from him, finally realising the real amount of hurt you inflicted upon yourself trying to chase him. all these months of wanting, of yearning, you’ve received nothing in return but a ‘hey’ in the morning and a ‘oh you’re still awake’ at midnight.

it was about time you dropped it.

you found someone new, someone you had the opportunity to feel what you felt with jun. this only happened because you saw the world through his eyes, and you had him to thank for that.

but you have to let him go. not all stories have happy endings.

you headed back into the night club, finding kihyun back where you left him and continued what you two had started.

it turned out, he was even better than you anticipated. he was entirely different from jun, but if his kindness and consideration could capture your heart, you didn’t mind.

the next morning, as you looked at kihyun who was asleep peacefully by your side after a long night, you decided to grab your laptop to write a letter.

a letter to terminate the lease on your end for the apartment you shared with junhui

—early.

[unholyhelbig]

Werewolf Bechloe Prompt: Beca is away for the weekend to visit friends and/or family. One late night, Beca wakes up to a noise outside her window and finds a wolf looking straight at her.

A/N: So… It’s been over a year since I’ve updated this AU. This prompt has been in my inbox for close to two. But since it’s almost spooky season, I figured I’d give it another shot! 

Read the full Series here | Request Prompts here 

“It’s a full moon tonight, isn’t it Beca?” the question was innocent enough, wavered out and drawn between breaths. It took her great grandmother a lot to stir from her placid spot at the head of the table. That was her seat- had been since Beca was a young girl. She didn’t’ know if it had to do with age or if her grandmother would take over the place had she still been alive.

The sound of scraping forks picking up the last of watery gravy seemed to halt at the raspy voice. Her aunt Chrissy stopped tearing a doughy roll in half and her Uncle Roth kept the spoon halfway to the green beans, steaming and stinking. Beca herself stopped mid-chew and glanced at the older woman. Mute and quiet for as long as she could remember.

Her father nudged her shoulder like he was the first one to snap out of the trance. He raised his studious eyebrows and the whole family seemed to wait for an explanation. The potatoes and the roast and that awfully rancid gravy was left untouched in the historic-looking dining room. “Uh, I… I think it is, yes.”  

She nodded her shaking head and dug the prongs of her fork back into the garlic mashed potatoes before the room decided to pick up again. The conversation easy for family catching up after months of exchanging small texts or liking photo’s on Facebook. Beca fell into silence herself, pushing the dry meat around with her fork before zoning out completely.

Beca could stand the normal family interactions after a four-hour drive. She smiled and hugged and laughed when her cousins did. But she kept to herself, silently collecting the dishes as her father wheeled Grandmother May into the living room. She washed said dishes and let her hands grasp blindly through the hot water and bubbles before she ran a sponge over the unfinished meals.

“I haven’t heard her speak in years.”

The youngest of the family startled against the words of her older cousin. Josie was a tall and lanky woman with deep golden hair, a stark difference from the rest of the family with their stocky dispositions and deep midnight eyes. Hers were green, green, and cat-like. The black sheep of the family who still moved to Hollywood to set up lights on big-time movie sets. She and Beca had a lot in common; they spoke like equals.

Josie picked up a dishrag and moved to grab a rinsed plate “Mind if I help?”

“Hm, I was wondering if I was going to have to pick up all the slack myself,” Beca smirked, dunking another dish. “It’s weird though, the question about the full moon.”

Her Great Grandmother was right, however. The moon hung in the sky as if it were balancing from a velvet string. It illuminated the backyard, a little neon square blocked by their shadows cast against the grass. When Beca was younger she was always afraid an unearthed corpse from the cemetery up the road would make misty eye contact with her through the pane. She would cry when she had to do the dishes.

“She’s an old lady, I’m surprised she can follow the day of the week much less the lunar cycle.”

“Right,” Beca chuckled. She shut off the water and snatched a clean towel from the counter before drying her hands of the hot water. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice. Maybe in tapes but it’s kind of unsettling you know? That she chose now, on our billionth family reunion to finally speak. And to me of all people.”

“Maybe you’re the favorite. Or maybe Great Grandma May is a shapeshifter bent on turning the whole family into wolves one by one-“Josie leaned close, her breath smelling of the strawberry candies that were kept on the front table. “Starting with you.”

Beca narrowed her eyes and mulled it over for a moment. “You’re a freak, you know that right?”

“You and me both, Bec’s.”

Beca hated to admit it, But Josie’s words clung to her like a tick on a deer. Not noticeable at first, not while they finished up the dishes and joked sparingly about the way their family would carry on for hours until their eyes grew heavy.

It wasn’t until she was balancing on the edge of a blow-up mattress with her aunt who snored, that she really gave the statement a once over. Her fingers traced absently at the scars against her arms from two months earlier. Still healing and red with irritation.

She stared at the ceiling, listening to the humidifier situated in the corner of the room. She tried to count the flowers that were plastered against the wall sometime in the late seventies. Shapeshifters. Ridiculous.

Beca had started to dose off, her breathing getting slow and her fingers curled into the t-shirt she wore. Eventually, she started to feel her body grow heavy. Her father used to tell her if she pretended to sleep, it wouldn’t be long until she actually drifted into unconsciousness.

Then there was a creak, an old floorboard in the hallway of the old ranch house. Her eyes show open and her heart pressed against the inside of her wrist. The blow-up mattress was starting to deflate and it crunched under her weight as she lifted herself up on her elbow.  

It was an old house, she told herself diligently, old houses made noises that were out of her control. The pipes would groan and the backup generator in the shed still sputtered black smoke even when it was idle- but wait- there it was again.

She blinked slowly and decided to rise to her feet as silently as possible to not disturb the other people in the room. The door hinges hissed and she hit the wrong floorboard that had settled in the first place.

Beca made it to the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a rooster on the side, filling it up with room temperature water. She gulped it down easily, reaching once more for the faucet- when she saw eyes.

Beca had been used to staring at her own reflection I the path of the full moon. It was pale and ghostly against the window-pane. She never looked for too long, never gazed where she wasn’t meant to. Everything that the pale moonlight touched didn’t seem tangible; it wasn’t of this world. The grass looked blue and the sky looked darker against the moon.

But those eyes, those orange eyes that nearly looked crimson, stared unwaveringly at her. Her fingers itched at the scars against her arms. They had mostly healed but they ached now. They burned and she scratched like it was a discomfort instead of an unpleasant memory.

Dogs didn’t scare her, and she wasn’t sure if she would admit it if they did. These eyes looked otherworldly. Another thing that was claimed by the moonlight. Even still, she set the mug down on the counter and leaned forward. She could feel the cold seeping through the glass. The creature blinked.

“I loved one once too.”

Beca felt her heart jump into her throat. If she was still holding the tacky glass it would have shattered against the floor into a million pieces, slicing into the bottoms of her feet. She turned abruptly, her back to the sink and to the wild animal that watched her like a vice.

Her great grandmother had wheeled herself into the kitchen. A blanket was draped over her legs, dragging on the floor. Her hands gripped the wheels and her ghostly grey eyes blinked at the glass patio doors. Beca was frozen in fear and curiosity. May’s stare focused on her in a matter of seconds- the only fast-moving thing about the woman.

“What?” Beca croaked out.

“I met him in the late ’30s.” She continued, ignoring Beca’s protests “he worked in a malt shop down by the coast in Maine. My parents used to vacation there for the month of June and the year I graduated high school was my last going. He was… beautiful.”

Beca nodded, and more than anything, she listened. She had seen pictures of her Grandmother May and her daughter after that. Her own mother was practically a spitting image of them both. She could almost imagine the choppy waves and the cold sand that wasn’t meant to be fully enjoyed.

“I knew from the start that he wasn’t human. His mannerisms, his strength, his possessiveness. There was something deep and wild against him but none of that mattered. I had never fallen in love so hard and so fast in my life.”

She swallowed “How did you know?”

“That I was in love or that he wasn’t like us?”

“Both, I suppose.”

Her Great Grandmother smiled sweetly, her stare returning to the moon-soaked yard. Beca knew the eyes were gone and the creature who gazed upon them had slinked back into the woods at the edge of the property. “He smelled like the forest.” She whispered.

They stood in a stifled quiet for what seemed like a long time before the same floorboards that gave her away in the first place creaked once more. Josie had stirred, seeing that she was missing. She flicked on the hall light and the dull yellow glow made Beca flinch.

“Jesus, what are you two doing out here?” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand “it’s nearly three am.”

Witching hour- Beca decided with a shrug as Josie grasped onto the padded handles of their grandmother’s wheelchair. May had gone back to her mute staring and her cousin shot her an odd look before speaking softly to the older woman, directing her back towards her room at the end of the hall.

Beca turned back towards the sink, placing the mug in the metal basin. She stared towards the forest, but it was no use, the hall light washed everything away. Even if the creature had returned, she wouldn’t know, and part of her didn’t want to.

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

Never Too Far (Choi Twins’ Birthday!)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my favourite tomatoes! This was written in haste to get it out in time so I’m sorry it’s pretty rough haha, I might go back and edit some parts later but don’t worry I won’t make any big changes. ALSO I know it isn’t in her timezone yet but it’s also my good friend @sunshinejihyun ‘s birthday so go send her some love! Her writing in incredible so I would 100% recommend you check it out!! <3

Notes:

It is implied Saeyoung x MC, but the main focus is on the twins <3

The last part takes place after the Secret Endings but V is alive because I do what I want heheheh

***

11th June, 2 years ago

The other members of the RFA had been very sweet to celebrate Seven’s birthday the way they did, organising a get-together at Jumin’s penthouse and properly hanging out outside of the RFA parties. They danced, they sang, they played games. They didn’t need to all that for him, but they did and Seven was incredibly grateful for that.

But he was just so exhausted.

It was hard enough to keep up his happy-go-lucky facade on his best of days, but the promised emotional turmoil of that day made it infinitely more taxing. The mask he had to hold up was heavy and his arms grew weaker with every passing hour.

It was around 10pm when the celebration came to a close. Seven thanked everyone for the day and for their generosity and left the penthouse, deciding to walk the long way home to give himself space to think.

What was he doing right now? Was he celebrating too? Did he get a cake and presents and was he surrounded by friends and family?

Was he happy?

Every new thought made his heart sink lower into his chest, buried down until he could hardly feel it at all. Numbness was better than pain, he thought, though his will to carry on that way was a dying ember in a rainstorm.

He hadn’t registered the he had been crying until he heard the shy tap of a tear hitting the concrete under his feet. Reaching a hand to touch his cheeks, he realised the tears had been running a long while before he noticed. He opted for wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, his glasses already fogged up from the hot tears that spilled from his eyes. Fixing them to sit on the bridge of his nose again, he saw the sign:

Two Scoops

24hr Ice Cream Parlour

He laughed despite himself. Even the universe was mocking him now. Or was it trying to tell him something?

Seven didn’t care either way, deciding to further torture himself by indulging in what was his other half’s favourite treat. By taking himself back to the days when he would sneak out and seek out an ice cream parlour very much like this one. By filling his mind with the image of pure joy on his brother’s face when he returned with an ice cream to share, an image that was already printed onto the back of his skull. He just couldn’t resist.

“Hey there, what can I get you?,” said the girl running the till cheerily.

She seemed to be the only employee there, which wasn’t too surprising considering the time. The shop had more customers than he expected, but was by no means busy, “Hi, could I get two scoops of the strawberry, please.” That was his twin’s favourite. He really was putting himself through it tonight, wasn’t he?

“Sure thing. Was that to eat-in or takeaway?”

“Uh, eat-in, please.” He didn’t want to go home yet. He didn’t want to go back to his version of normal yet.

“No problem! If you’d like to take a seat I’ll bring that right over,” the girl said, a warm smile on her face. She was probably told to smile at customers like that, but for some reason it made Seven’s weary heart flutter as if it were genuine.

He read her name tag before finding a booth to himself. MC. Cute name, he thought. She seemed sweet, which was pretty fitting for a girl who worked at an ice cream shop.

A few minutes passed until MC came over to the booth with his ice cream, the same kind smile gracing her features. She placed his order in front of him with a small “Enjoy!” before going to clear another table.

Seven eyed the ice cream curiously.

Three scoops and a note?

He carefully unfolded the note and read its contents:

The extra scoop is on me. Happy birthday! x

How on earth did she…? Oh. Seven laughed out load when he remembered the big-ass birthday badge that Yoosung had given to him that was currently pinned to the front of his hoodie. Yoosung 1, Seven 0.

He turned around to where she was currently wiping down a table, also giggling as they made eye contact. He shot her a wide smile, the first genuine smile he could recall, and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at her.

She simply bowed her head in response before returning to her place behind the counter, still smiling as she started to make other customers’ orders.

Seven continued to spoon ice cream into his mouth as he watched out the window, trying with all his might to not look back at MC. He didn’t want to distract her from her work, but he also didn’t want to make any promises that he couldn’t keep.

He wanted to give her his number. He wanted to take her out for a drink to say thank you, maybe even take her out for dinner. He wanted to have that option. He wanted nothing more than to live a life where he could do those things, but even if he wanted to, it was out of his reach. He had already gone too far by being friendly with her, so all he could do now was leave a sizeable tip and never come back.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he moved towards the door, stopping by the counter on his way, “Thank you again, you really didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it. It was very kind of you.”

“Nah, don’t be silly,” you said, your smile reaching your eyes, “it’s my pleasure. Have a good evening.”

He’ll try.

“You too.”

And with that, he walked out the door, the shrill ring of the bell over the door mocking him as he left what could have been the best thing that ever happened to him. As an agent, he spent a lot of time considering the ‘what if’s and ‘what could been’s, and he couldn't help but feel that this pure act of kindness from a stranger could have blossomed into something cherishable, something precious. Something real.

Perhaps, one day, he would return to this ice cream shop and pick things up where they left off. Perhaps things would just work out his way for a change. Perhaps he could have a chance with that life.

But life just wasn’t that kind, was it?

***

11th June, 1 year ago

Ray was, quite frankly, bored. He had been sent out to recruit new believers more times than he could count. It was such a dull task, since he rarely found someone worthy or suitable for paradise. However, the saviour had sent him out on a special recruitment mission today, so he knew he had to concentrate.

But, today in particular…he just wasn’t feeling it.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he still remembered. 11th of June. His birthday.

There were only so many doses of elixir he could stomach, so in the end he lied to the saviour by saying it had worked, that he couldn’t remember anything from his past. He was a clean slate, a blank canvas ready for her to paint whatever she pleased. The venom of guilt ran through his blood everyday since he betrayed his saviour, but he wasn’t sure he would have survived another round of cleansing.

However, it was only on this day that, just for a while, he let his mind wander about his old life, or the life that could have been. He never let it wander too far in fear he would run with it, but just enough to satisfy the gaping whole in his heart that grew wider with each year that passed.

He continued to trudge through the streets, his focus diminishing until the glint of a luminous sign caught his eye.

24hr ice cream huh?

Ray considered it for a moment, the venomous guilt stinging more than before. It wasn’t allowed. He would be punished if she found out. She would be so angry.

But really, how would she know? He would be leaving sooner than he arrived, and he could tell her he thought he found a potential candidate but they turned out to be unsuitable. After a rush of bravery, with a trace of rebellion, Ray entered the shop.

The shop was small, quaint. He expected it to be busier, considering the nice weather. But he didn’t complain, it meant there was basically no queue.

“Hiya,” the girl behind the counter beamed, “what can I…oh! Hello again!” What? “How are you?”

“Oh, um, I’m good thanks but sorry I-“

“I love what you’ve done with your hair by the way, the white really suits you!”

The white really…hold on. Did she think you were…?

This…could work.

Ray cleared his throat, “Ah, thank you. I, uh, bleached it recently.”

“Well I think it looks great,” she said, still smiling brightly. Yes, this could definitely work. “What can I get for you?”

“Uh, the salted caramel please. Two scoops, please.” He didn’t know why he said that. It wasn't his favourite. But he knew who’s favourite it was.

He must have been feeling sentimental today.

She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curling up even more, “Of course, eat-in or takeaway?”

“Uh, takeaway, please.”

“Sure, if you just wait round the corner I’ll make that up for you!”

Rounding the corner of the counter, Ray started to type furiously on his phone. He’d read her name tag, now he just needed to locate her phone. MC, MC, MC…

Gotcha.

“Here you go!”

Ray snapped out of his trance, taking the paper cup out of her hands, “Oh, thank you.”

“No worries. Have a lovely birthday!” she called out as she hurried off to the next customer.

Okay, he could understand the mix up, but how on EARTH did she know that?

Well, there was no time to worry about that now. He had done it, he had found the perfect person. His saviour would be so proud.

She was kind, enthusiastic and, seemingly, overly-trusting. He would be able to lure her to the apartment quite easily. Plus, she would feel right at home with that red-head…

Ray swatted the thought from his mind as he left the shop, only then noticing the extra scoop of ice cream he had been given.

How strange.

Later that evening, he began the first part of the plan. Thoughts of the past left his mind, being replaced by thoughts of the future.

Maybe, life was a little kinder to him then he thought.

***

11th June, Present day

Saeyoung woke up and patted the other half of his bed, only to find it empty and cold. He shot up, sitting bolt upright as he rummaged for his glasses. Upon locating them, he propped them on his face before he focussed his tired eyes on her side of the bed, finding only a piece of paper with her handwriting on it:

A little birdy told me it was someone’s birthday? If that’s true, come to this address at 12 noon. Try not to be late but for the love of God do NOT be early pleeeeeease! Love you! MC xx

He kind of recognised the address, but couldn’t begin to remember where from. Rubbing his eyes, still slightly crusty from sleep, and flinging on a t-shirt, Saeyoung went to take a shower only to meet his brother in the hallway.

“Did you get one too?” Saeran said, voice still husky as he held up a note very similar to the one he found.

Saeyoung couldn’t help but smile.

“I did. Looks like she’s up to something.”

“Oh God, what on earth has she done.”

Both twins chuckled, they knew what MC was like. She was excitable, cheerful, loving. But she also had a tendency to go a bit overboard, which often made for some very amusing and slightly awkward situations for everyone involved. But no matter the outcome, she always managed to make them smile and they were always grateful for her efforts.

So they knew that either way, they were going to have a good birthday.

After they both showered, ate and were preparing to leave, Saeran disappeared to his room before returning with his hands behind his back.

“Saeyoung?”

“Uh huh?” Saeyoung said as he tied his shoes.

“Um, happy birthday.” Saeyoung swivelled around to find Saeran holding out a small red box, tied together with a white ribbon in a neat bow. Saeyoung stood up, mouth agape as he gently took the box.

He slowly untied the knot and opened it, chuckling when he saw what was a pendent in the shape of an ice cream cone.

“It’s silly, I know, but it’s what connected us for so many years and…I wanted something to remind of us that,” he said quietly, his hand under the colour of his sweater as he pulled out a matching pendent on a chain.

Saeyoung tried with all his might to blink away the tears but it was no use. He unfastened his usual chain from his neck and slipped the pendent through so it sat proudly next to his cross. He leapt forward, catching Saeran in his arms as tears continue to slide down his face. There they held each other, neither willing to be the first to let go. Eventually Saeyoung broke away, darting into his own room and coming out with a medium-sized pink box.

“I was waiting for the right time to give you this, and now seems pretty perfect,” he said as he handed it to his brother.

Setting in on the table, Saeran shyly lifted up the lid and couldn’t contain the grin that creeped up his face as he examined the present. It was a bonsai tree.

“I know that you love gardening but get upset when the plants die, so I thought that you should have one that will live for as long as you take care of it.”

Saeran also felt tears pricking his eyes but was able to hold back, “Thank you, Saeyoung.”

“You’re welcome. Now we better go before MC hunts us down.”

***

Saeyoung and Saeran wandered the streets together, following the GPS on their phones before coming face-to-face with an all too familiar sign.

Surely not.

“Wait…” they both said in sync before hurtling towards the entrance.

“SURPRISE!” the whole RFA cried as they stumbled through the door. The place had been covered head-to-toe in red and pink decorations, and every member had their own party hats and streamers. To an outsider, it would have looked like a children’s party but nobody cared, because the look of pure joy and astonishment on their faces made it all worth it.

The twins were covered in confetti upon entrance, and whilst they were both indescribably grateful and excited, Saeyoung had questions.

“MC, do you work here?!”

“I used to, a little bit anyway. My parents own the business so I would work here in between jobs or when I was visiting. That’s why I was able to close it for the day!”

Saeyoung thought he was going to burst, “Did you work here a few years ago? In the summer?”

MC lips curled into a smug smile. She knew where this was going, “I did.”

“So…you were…this is…”

“Where we first met,” she said gently, intertwining her fingers with his.

“And where we first met,” Saeran chimed in, smiling at MC.

“HUH? Sorry…WHAT?!” Saeyoung yelled, one hand taking a fistful of his hair as he tried to wrap his head around everything.

Saeran and MC couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up in their throats. They explained everything to him, about how Saeran had come in a year after he did, how MC thought he was Saeyoung, how that was the reason MC joined the RFA. It was so crazy Saeyoung needed to sit down, but his smile never faltered.

After that was cleared up, they all enjoyed the rest of the celebration. Zen organised the karaoke, Jumin and Jaehee set up the party games, Yoosung and MC were in charge of ice cream, and V took photos of the whole thing. He captured every smile, every laugh and every tear of joy. It was a truly magical day, one that neither twin ever thought was possible for them.

It was stupid late when everyone decided it was time to go home. MC locked up, saying that she would deal with the mess in the morning since it was going to be closed anyway, and the three strolled home together.

MC linked arms with the two most precious people in her life, tugging them close to her side. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, until Saeyoung spoke up, “One thing still doesn’t make sense though.”

MC cocked an eyebrow, “And what’s that?”

“When you thought Saeran was me, how did you know it was my birthday? Surely you wouldn’t have remembered the date?”

“Well, the one time you came in was on your birthday. I thought it must have been a tradition, since the time of year seemed about right. Lucky guess, I suppose.”

“Okay, I got it…actually no I don’t. I’m sorry but isn’t it just too weird?” he looked to Saeran, “Like, how did we both go to the same ice cream shop on the same day of the year and meet the SAME girl? Then you brought her to the same organisation that I was in and then we got to live like this? After everything that went down?”

Saeran smiled gently, “I think even we deserve a bit of good luck every know and then. It is funny though, that even when we were apart, we were basically connected through MC.”

“The universe has a strange way of working everything out,” MC said softly, “and anyway, I think that’s the thing about twins,” MC squeezed both their arms,

“Despite all odds, they are never stray too far from one another.”

***

Big love for the Choi bois <3 again I am so sorry this isn’t my best writing, but I still hope you enjoyed it! x

Masterlist

[avaria-revallier]

Chapter 1: The Beginning after the End

The smell of iron lingers in the air. Muffled cries of pain and rage are dancing over the battlefield. Salty tears are rolling down her cheeks. Leaving light trails between the blood and dirt on her skin. Holding a familiar person in her arms. With shaking hands she gently brushes a dark strain of hair out of the kings eyes. His breathing is weak.

„Thorin, you damn stubborn dwarf! You can’t die now! Pull yourself together.“ A heavy sobbing shakes the little hobbit.

Azog is dead, so why, why couldn’t Thorin live to celebrate this victory?

Rough fingers brushing over her cheeks, as if they want to wipe away the tears, the sadness.

„Bella, Bell… don’t cry, my dear.“ Thorin looks her in the eyes. A small smile on his lips. He wants to help her ease the pain, make her feel better. He wants to tell her how he feels, now, that he finally is ‚King under the mountain‘ again. Now that he is worthy of this kind little hobbit. Now, that it is to late. Her crying breaks his heart and lets his soul ache.

„You know I am not very good at comforting, amrâlimê.“ With his last strength Thorin sits up and kisses his hobbit. He wouldn’t want to leave her, not like this, not crying.

Absent minded Bellas fingers touch her lips. How long has it been? One year? Two? No, longer, a lot longer. Her eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be. She can’t take long trips anymore and her memories begin to slip away.

„Bella… Belladonna.“ Startled turns the hobbit around.

„Lord Elrond. What can I do for you? Is it time to go already?“ The elve smiles gently down on her. He hasn’t aged one bit in all the time she had spend with him.

„Yes my dear, I believe it is time to go. We are the last ones to board a ship.“

She stares a moment into his eyes, searching for a hint of… of what? With a deep sight she turns back to the window. The boats had already left or where about to leave. The fog over the lake was getting thicker and thicker as time goes by.

Another deep sight left her mouth. Unconsciously her fingers reach up to her lips again to lightly brush over them.

The hobbit rummages through her pockets to hand a heavy letter over to Lord Elrond. In clear black letters the names of Lord Elrond’s twin sons where written on the envelop.

„Give them the letter once you boarded the boat and you are to far from the shore to turn around.

I will miss those two. You of course as well, Lord Elrond. But I have a feeling that this shouldn’t be. Even thought all my traveling and adventures, I still haven‘t found my place. Maybe I never will.“ With a sad smile on her face she stands up, grabs her backpack and leaves. Hoping that he would understand, but knowing she herself didn’t either.

Belladonna Baggins knew she couldn’t go back to the shire. Bag End, the home her father Bungo Baggings build for her mother wasn’t anymore hers, it wasn’t home. Home was somewhere else, somewhere, maybe someone…

Neither could she go to the lonely mountain. To many memories would await her there and only few of them where good. Her fingertips brushes her lips again, before she angrily banishes them into one of her pockets.

Mirkwood wasn’t that pleasant either, so maybe… yeah, why not. Somewhere where she hasn’t been before. Somewhere without memories, with lots of adventures. Somewhere where the earth is still singing.

A shy smile on her face, Sting on her side and a wooden stick in one hand Bella starts wandering to the woods where tree giants, ents, said to be living.

While feeling a familiar joy rising in her heart the smile on her face widens and the stick in her hand starts growing little leafs and flowers. The grass under her feet seems to grow greener and healthier, while the flowers start to bloom and are tilting their heads towards the humming hobbit.

Between two large oaks Bella set camp for the night.

Her trip didn’t took as long as expected. She reached the forest a week earlier. The journey wasn’t much of an adventure either, she didn’t encounter orcs or wargs, nor trolls. Apart from some minor obstacles like wolves and your every day bandits it was a rather pleasant trip.

Leaning with the back on the rough bark of the oak the hobbit looks up into the starry night-sky. Searching through her memories she found what she was looking for. The memory of a similar night. She was on the road for not more than roughly a few month, together with Thorin and his company. They didn’t light a fire, as it was warm enough without. Just like tonight. Bofur had first watch. With a sad smile she remembers how she tossed and turned that evening, until she finally gave up and joined Bofur. He had been smoking his pipe, silently starring into the night. With that ridiculous hat of his, which he never seemed to take of. That night he wasn’t joking around with her. They both had a lot to think about.

As Bella opens her eyes, she could almost see the sleeping dwarves in front of her. Fíli and Kíli, right next to each other, always worried that they would wake up alone. Bifur, muttering in Khuzdul and sometimes kicking at the invisible enemies. Bombur, who seems to eat even in his sleep. Nori and Dori, tucked together with Ori in their middle. Gloin, Oin and Balin right next to an overhang, snoring one louder than the next. Dwalin, not far from Thorin, the weapon always in reach, ready to protect his king and friends. And Thorin, sleeping without a sound, no movement and even frowning in his sleep. Worrying about more than he should. At first the snoring, the movement and muttering had irritated her, but soon she couldn’t find sleep without these familiar sounds. It is one of those memories that would help Bella sleep. Help her to ease the pain in her heart.

With a sight she closes her eyes for a moment. Holding back the tears she lets the image fade away. A growling not far from her left lets her freeze in the very moment. She knows this particular sound. Warc. Slowly her fingers creep over the ground to reach the hilt of Sting. Her eyes are searching the darkness for a sign of danger. Two dim glowing eyes are penetrating her from where the sound came from. Her back against the tree Bella stands up, not breaking eye-contact with the foul creature.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” a voice like metal on stone.

An Orc, uglier than the ones Bella saw before, steps into the moonlight. The blue shining blade in one and her staff in the other hand she eyes the creature.

“No answer? Well, none needed. We had specific orders for whom we are looking for. An old hobbit lass.” A screeching sound echos through the woods. It might have been a laugh.

“With something very special in her possession. A ring. Give it us! Give it!”

Bella is running. Running for her life.

Another arrow misses her just barely, setting the tree in front of her on fire. A howl from behind motivates her to run faster. Smoke stings in her eyes and lungs, making it hard to breathe. Half blind she lets her feelings guide her. The trees all around are screaming in pain. The forest is burning.

With her last strength, she climbs an old tree.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry! This is all my fault. They where right. I am poisonous, always bringing bad luck to all around me.” The words were no more than a whisper, hidden behind heavy sobbing. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing and the screams got only louder.

For the second time this night Bella freezes, as someone right next to her clears his throat.

“My dear, not all poisons are only used to kill. With the right dose and understanding they can become the best cure.”

With a shocked squeak Bella lets go of the branch she was holding on to. A large hand catches her in the middle of falling and places her gently back on a save spot.

“What is a child of Yavanna doing here in my forest?” wise eyes are looking at her from between the bark, moss and branches.

“My, my name is Belladonna Baggins, Mister Ent. I came here looking for a place to stay, a place filled with life and the grace of our creator. I was hoping to meet an Onodrim like yourself. Sadly all I found where Orcs, Warcs and bad luck. And again I managed to poison the things I love. It is my fault that the forest is burning. I am so very sorry for this, Master Ent. I regret that I ever set foot out of my door. If it wasn’t for me, they all would have lived.”

The ent listens to her, moving slowly out of the raging fire. Bella clings to the bark, heavily sniveling, finally letting all the tears flow, together with the pain, grief and sadness.

A sudden pain in her chest ends the weeping of the hobbit lass. An arrow hit her from behind and all the way through. Disbelief fills her eyes, followed by pain. She tries to scream, but only muffled sound come out. Hard she hits the ground. In a split second the orc archer gets smashed by a giant wooden hand, the warc kicked against a tree. The screaming of the surrounding trees is getting quieter, till it is completely still. The giant face of the ent appears in her field of vision, only a small distance between them. As Bella tries to say something, only a cough and some blood comes out. Pain rages from her chest and back through her body, blurring her vision. The question of the ent she could only hear like he was speaking into a pillow.

“Child, you are blessed by the goddess Yavanna. I will help you, take this chance and change your fated path. In return, I want you to take this with you. I want you to plant the hope of our race.”

Gently he places a small object in her cold hand. She couldn’t really see it, but what does it matter? Again she tries to speak. Another cough makes her spit blood. Her vision goes dark and she can’t hear the last words of the ent. What did he mean, another chance?

‘If I could just see his face one more time, I’ll die a happy death. I am sure. All I want is nothing more but to hear you knocking on my door. I would give it my all to do better next time. All and everything of me.’ She sends her silent prayers to Yavanna.

Strangely the memories of her first encounter with the grey wizard pops into her mind. The picture of a familiar hole forms in her head.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with paneled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill—The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (she had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over her garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.

A knocking on the door made her look up from the book she was reading.

A guest? At this hour?

Slowly the small Hobbit stood up to answer the door.

„Dwalin, at your service.“ A dwarf. A dwarf on her doorstep.

A dwarf she knew a long time ago. A dwarf who died in battle, proudly swinging his weapon.

With a blank stare she scanned the dwarf.

‚Oh Yavanna, how cruel of you‘

Another moment the hobbit stood in the half open door, slowly realizing what was happening. In her empty eyes a spark lit up, after a long and cold winter. A single teardrop ran down her cheek, breaking her numbness.

„You are alive?“ She whispered under her breath.

Before Dwalin could react the small hobbit jumped at him, hugging the big warrior and sobbing at his chest.

A dream, it must be a dream. Maybe Yavanna granted her this dream to mend the crack in her heart. And even if it was just an illusion, she would be more than happy just to see them again. But still, for a dream this was kinda real.

Embarrassed she separates herself from the confused dwarf, wiping away the tears.

“Please, do come in, supper is almost ready. Would you be so kind and leave your shoes near the door? What is with the others? Are they all coming?!” Followed by an even more confused dwarf she heads to the dining room, seating him on the long table.

“Please do wait a moment. I will have to empty my whole pantry to feed thirteen dwarves and a wizard. We also have to save some for Thorin, as he will be running late.” Muttering to herself the hobbit lass vanishes in the direction of the pantry, leaving Dwalin behind. Another knock at the door announces the presence of an additional visitor.

“Master Dwalin, would you be so kind to answer the door? I have my hands full.”

Dazed the tattooed dwarf stands up to answer the door. In the meantime Bella sets the table and prepares some dishes that are easy and fast made.

“Evening, brother!” it echoes through the hallway, followed by the sound of two heads banging together. A dwarf with a long white beard enters the dining room and bows.

“Balin, at your service.” He states.

“It is good to see you again, Master Balin. Please bring the remaining food from the pantry here. I will have to answer the door. Fíli and Kíli will help you move the table.” She cleans her hands on a piece of clothes and goes to open the door for the two younger dwarves of the line of Durin.

“Fíli and Kíli, at your service!” both of them look so young.

Bella has to suppress another flood of tears, as she sees these two familiar dwarves. Before she could restrain the reflex, she hugs both tightly.

Hasty she lets go, brushing her hair out of her eyes and wiping the tears away. To stop her voice from cracking she clears her throat.

“You can leave your shoes and weapons here. I will have to excuse myself to look after the supper.” As she hurries towards the kitchen she scolds herself for reacting like this. They might think she is mad, or worse, unsociable.

Dwalin stops the two irritated dwarf lads from shouting questions at their host by assigning some tasks to them. He even answers the door a second time, just to find the eight missing dwarves literally falling inside. Behind them an amused Gandalf.

They are, as she remembered them, loud and not very well mannered. Yet as familiar as her own home. While the dwarves ate and drank, Bella was busy refilling the glasses and pints, restocking the empty plates on the table and keeping an eye on the portion she saved for their leader.

Gandalf watched the hobbit lass for the better part of the evening. She seems to behave strange, offbeat from the day before. Somehow like she became a different person over night.

She didn’t even flinch when they threw the dishes through the halls, only a slight smile on her face. Also she looks like glowing from time to time, nearly magical… Well, maybe he made a mistake.

Gandalf wasn’t the only one watching Bella. Dwalin, Balin and most of the company eyed the hobbit with curiosity and interest. How would she know about them?

They all went quiet as a someone knocked at the door.

There he was. Standing on her doorstep as if this was their first meeting. Broad shoulders that look like carrying the problems of the world. Sharp blue eyes, that pierce through hers, dark hair with some braids. Sadly without the small bells Bella gifted him.

“Gandalf… You said this place was easy to find. I got lost. Twice.” Completely ignoring the host of this home Thorin enters the hobbit hole.

“So this is the hobbit?” His attention shifts to Bella. “Tell me Mistress Baggins, have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword? What is your preferred weapon?”

Bella watches him, unsure how to answer.

“Thought as much, she looks more like a grocer than a burglar. And a lass non the less…”

“If this is a joke, it is of very poor taste!” She angrily stares up to Thorin. The relief and disbelief turns into anger. With her finger she pokes into Thorins chest, ignoring how muscular he is.

“After all we went through? You think you can just cast that aside? Do you have no shame? Do you even know how much I suffered? Just because you were to proud and stubborn to accept help!” With every sentence she pokes him again, urging him to take a step back.

“This wasn’t funny the first time and it won’t be…”

A whispered comment interrupts her angry speech. Bellas burning gaze finds Bofur.

“Oh, so you think I am cute when I am angry? Well, get ready because I’m about to be GORGEOUS!”

The whole company flinches under the angry gaze of the little hobbit. As she turns around she finds Thorin taking another step back.

“The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” He tries to allay her anger.

The gate broke and the tears are rolling down her face. Her anger has vanished and a sharp pain strikes within her heart. This was no dream, no illusion or trick of her mind. Nor was she in Yavanna’s garden. Something happened to her. It isn’t them who are acting curious, it is her.

“This isn’t possible.” She takes a step towards Thorin. Careful she touches his cheek, looking him doubtful in the eyes, as if he could vanish any moment right before her eyes.

“Y-you are okay?” she gasps quietly, one hand over her mouth.

“How in the world is this possible? By Yavanna, what is going on? No, this is wrong…” unsteady she takes a small step back, then she faints.

Chapter 2

Masterpost

This is the first chapter of my story, what do you think?

[singeramg]

Midnight: Chapter 17

Pairing: Clark Kent-Superman/ Metahuman! Black! OFC

Rating: M

A/n: Hey everyone!!! Since I am on lock down and get to spend more time getting these ideas out my head you guys get another chapter! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Language, Non-con sexual situations, angst. I tag more and it ruins the chapter but just an FYI this serves as your potential trigger warning.

Catch up HERE!

Midnight: Chapter 17

Only the sky saw Superman race across it to Bruce’s house. The team with the exception of Arthur who they hadn’t been able to get in touch with, had been working around the clock to try and find Gia.

  “Tell me what you’ve got?”

Clark’s voice held a tone of superiority that commanded respect even when he wasn’t going for that. Victor speaks up first.

  “I’ve been tracking the dark web chatter trying to find anything that would lead us to who took Gia or where she is. I haven’t had a hit on who took her, but there has been talk about a big Russian politician who doubles as a mob leader coming into town. He is supposed to be meeting with our very own Harvey Dent at a club downtown.”

  “That doesn’t bode well for anyone if he starts making allies.”

Bruce comments

 “What does that mean for Gia?” Barry asks 

  “I say if there is some meet up going down, then it could mean whoever took Gia is involved in this too. Harvey Dent could definitely pull this off, especially if he viewed her as a threat.”

Bruce answers and finds himself leaning against the control panel Victor was currently sitting at.

  “More than any of us?” Clark was still not sure but willing to hear them out.

 “Yes if her power was a direct threat to their plans then why not get her out the way?”

Diana offers and looks over the screen.

  “So what did we do?”

Barry asks, not having a plan himself.

 “I think we should go undercover. At least a couple of us.”

  “Who exactly?”

Clark asks skeptically

Diana smiles and Clark knows he is in trouble..

*Later*

Clark, Diana and Bruce all went undercover to the club where this meet up between Dent and the Boss was supposed to happen. Clark walked in separately from Bruce and Diana who made themselves look like the VIP’s they were and together, although they didn’t have to try very hard to appear that they were on some sort of date.

Clark however came in looking like a more....disheveled version of himself. He hadn’t been shaving all week and Diana did something with his hair that defined his curls but didn’t look as wild as they normally looked. She tossed a charcoal grey button and jeans at him. Left him with a “meet us at the club”.

So here he was in a loud club packed with people, he honestly could have listened to whatever conversation he wanted from outside, but he wanted to have a good look at this Dent character he would be knocking the lights out of later. He leaned against the bar, taking a sip of a drink he ordered, listening for signs of trouble, sitting it down on the bar top, honing in on Dent and the boss chatting it up about two tables down from Bruce and Diana.

  “Well what’s a hunk like you doing in here all alone?”

A petite olive toned girl that almost looks too young to be in the club, thrusts herself onto him bodily. Her breasts practically falling out of the top of her ill fitting red dress he perfume almost fascinatingly  thick, her heart is racing although it doesn’t show on her face. He gives her a nervous smile and politely pulls her manicured hand off his arm and chest. 

  “Sorry I am not alone... I was just waiting on my girlfriend...”

He puts up the drink and takes another sip, hopefully to imply to her that he is not interested. 

  “Are you sure you don’t want to be alone? I am alone tonight but I don’t want to leave that way.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder, and he backs away again, only now he begins to feel odd. His head begins to swirl, he clears his throat, takes another drink but it doesn't help.

  “I appreciate your obvious interest but I cannot join you. I..I’m just going to go.”

Clark pulls away and stumbles off to the bathroom, unawares to Diana and Bruce.

He stands at the sink as the last man exits the restroom. He throws water in his face, but his head begins to ring. He feels weaker by the second as he is holding on to the sick tightly but it doesn’t break under his hands which it should under normal circumstances. 

The lights in the bathroom flicker and shut off for a moment. When they come back on the blonde woman is standing behind him, jibbing his neck with a syringe and it’s lights out for Clark Kent...

*1 hours later*

  “I told you the plan would work!”

Clark was slowly coming to, but still felt weak. The voices he was hearing sounded familiar, but it couldn’t be.

  “See look he’s even waking up now. Goody!”

There was an excited clap and then an annoyed grunt.

  “Oh please Tanya don’t act like you aren’t excited. I mean wait until we tell the boss man we caught fucking Superman. He's going to lose his shit!”

  “When will he get here?”

The second voice is also familiar but not as much as the first. The first had kept him up many nights looking for it. Clark’s eyes pop open to find not only the dark haired girl from the club looking at him but his Gia as well. 

Only something was off about her. Her eyes held no warmth looking at him. Her smile is wide, but manic. It was if she had become unhinged in the week she had been missing. Clark quickly realizes he’s chained down. Heavy duty chains it seems because they won’t budge as he tugs so he can grab Gia and get out of wherever they were. To his confusion she only laughs.

  “Aww sweetheart you think we used chains YOU could get out of?”

She is wearing a version of her Midnight uniform but it’s not the same. The top is cut way lower and they are short-shorts at the bottom rather than the skin tight catsuit type with the gray detailing she always wore. This version had red in its place. She had foregone the mask and everything about her makeup was dramatic with red and black tinted shadow and bright red lips, her hair straightened. She saunters over to him slowly, also opting for heels rather than the flat boots she normally fought in. Her lips curl upward into another smile as she walks around him slowly. Her hands fold into his thick hair, playing with it.

  “Your mind is interesting Mr. Kent.”

She finishes her circle, stopping in front of him.

  “Gia what is going on? Let me out of here?”

  “Clark sweetheart, they said you were smart. Why would I let you out? I am not this Gia person you speak of, but I mean if she IS the chick you are fucking then maybe we can make an exception and I’ll be her.”

He was confused; she was speaking as if she had no clue who he was or who she even is. The Tanya girl looks at Gia with a smirk.

  “Should I call boss man?”

Gia looks as if she is concentrating really hard, then comes back to the moment in front of her.

  “He’s a bit busy. Still has... company...in his penthouse.”

She says ‘company’ in a tone that implies whoever their boss was, was engaging in sexual activity. Clark could care less, he had to get himself and more importantly Gia out of this mess. He looks her over again up and down, to his chagrin he does appreciate how she looks standing that close to him in something that short, her long legs on display, his mind flashes to those wrapped around him. Gia looks at him, they lock eyes and she raises an eyebrow at him in amusement.

  “I think I should be allowed to have a little fun. I’ve been cooped up here, you got to go out and get him. He said catch him, never said I couldn’t have a little fun with him while we wait.”

 “You think that’s a good idea?” The Tanya girl asks but she knows it’s not. 

  “Yes. Besides if you are so worried go stand watch for the boss and once he’s...done...let me know.”

Clark watches as Gia’s iris light up glowing green and Tanya’s eyes light up the same color to match. Tanya suddenly says as her eyes return back to normal and no indication that her eyes had been glowing.

 “Okay I’ll go stand watch.”

The girl leaves them alone, and Gia giggles that insane laugh again.

  “It’s going to be fun playing with that power. You won’t tell anyone I have it will you? You seem like the trust worthy type with all those goody two shoes and morals you are trying to spin on us humans.”

Clark pulls at his bonds again, but he knows it pointless.

 “Gia let me out of here. We can fight like normal people when our lives aren’t at risk.”

She only plops down on his lap, straddling him, he can feel her body weight as opposed to  normal where he only feels light pressure.

 “I should start off by introducing myself since you keep calling me the wrong name. I would tell you my real name, but you don’t need to know that. A good villain never gives it all away in the first round. Around these parts everyone calls me Synergy.”

Thoughts fly through his mind as it clicks that Gia truly has no clue who she is and that does not bode well for him. In fact his mind is still a bit swirly from however they got him here. She runs her finger down the side of his face tenderly.

 *-“How did they get him here?”*

   “Now you are asking the right questions. Although gosh you look just like a goddamn puppy when you are confused. It’s quite endearing. Makes me want to keep you Clark Kent of Smallville, A.K.A Superman of Krypton. Hey sweetheart... Did you know Kryptonite still works even in powdered form. I wondered why anyone would think Superman would be in a club, without glasses, and furthermore that nobody would figure it out, but one would guess that you would turn up trying to find Harvey Dents meeting, just like boss said he would. Pft like Dent is bright enough to manufacture this.”

He thinks and tries to remember how they were able to get the Kryptonite into him, he can’t pinpoint it.

 “A little dabble in Tanya’s perfume, a dose in that pesky little drink, chain links made with the power blended in... all bring us to this very moment. With me sitting on your lap, and you sitting here confused and rampant thoughts about my legs being wrapped around your waist.”

Clark was now nervous because how in the hell did she know he had thought that. She only smiles a coy smile and leans closer to him, her lips next to his ear.

  “I will chalk you being a little slow on the uptake to your Kryptonite exposure. If you haven’t guessed I have the ability to read minds and well as control them. I have been able to read you since you woke up. I’ll mark you down as nervous and horny. How about that?”

 “I wouldn’t go that far as to say horny.”

He tried to deflect, a collected smirk on his face. She only pulls herself closer to his chest, pushing them pelvis to pelvis. He can feel the heat of her center through the shorts she is wearing, and the body was still Gia’s even if the mind wasn’t. He feels terrible as he could feel himself start to harden against her. She hisses as she grinds against him, eyes closed, as he gets harder and harder. 

  “Oh really Superman, so what do you call being on hard between my legs on your home planet? Because here that means you want to fuck me. You know seeing as we will be unbothered for a while due to my little party trick. I say we get to know each other a little better, Superman.”

She runs her hands down his clothed chest, and avoids eye contact. Clark tries not to linger too hard on one thought for fear of compromising anyone else. He pulls on the chain again and Gia / Synergy just starts kissing his neck, trying very hard to will the quickly forming erection away. He couldn’t sleep with Gia. Now while she was like this it was immoral, unjust, and he knew that the true her didn’t want him this way. He didn’t really want her this way. If he were to be with Gia again he wanted her aware and the full understanding about what he was doing to her body, he wanted her mind fully on what they were sharing. This puppet couldn’t give him truly desired from her.

  “Awe now baby don’t be like that. I think we could be good together. The amount of Energy pouring from you. Even weakened is addictive. The sex would be amazing, and trust I know just what to do with this.”

She reaches down cupping him on the outside of his jeans. He groans as she peppers kisses on his jawline again, he can feel himself giving in as she moves her hands to the button on his jeans. He is dreading how her hand moved downwards all while simultaneously anticipating it. The moral war wages in his mind, as her breath fans across his neck and she reaches his cock.

She whispers in his ear again

  “Clark baby,  think about it … we could have it all. Be the two most powerful beings in the universe, it starts right here with nobody being the wiser, join me in the darkness.”

The lights flicker in the room and just as she grasps his length in her hand, gliding up and down, he almost short-circuits as pleasure begins to override all other thoughts but her last words ring some sort of bell in his head despite feeling he was about to say damn it all. Her words that sparked him to think

“...join me in the darkness.”

*Flashback*

Her heart rate was ticking up. The thin walls between her room and his made it impossible for him not to hear her. She had started moving around on her bed. He could smell the sweat that had formed on her skin. The whimpering began and that was his queue to get up from his bed.

He normally spent most of his time at Lois apartment, but with bringing Gia home, he had taken responsibility for her. He could just leave her on his mother's doorstep for her to take care of. Clark could have and his mother would have been okay with doting on her, but the truth was he liked being around Gia. When she was not having any episodes she actually has the most calming energy coming from her. Clark doubted that she even recognized that she did but he enjoyed that beyond all the hurt and healing she was a very cool, level headed person. He also knew she would be able to really take flight, fly on her own once she healed. However, he was still nervous that she wouldn’t be able to heal. Worried... worried that maybe she would lose control and he couldn’t get to her in time. She was more powerful than she realized and he feared that if he couldn’t help her, she would be the next villain he had to fight. The potential that she had in her power was phenomenal and he would much rather have her as an ally rather than an enemy. 

Beyond the obvious threat of her, he felt himself being drawn to her. He didn’t want to watch her suffer. This was one of the reasons he was getting up in the middle of the night to check on her. She was having a nightmare again.

He steps into her room slowly and quietly, as her head tosses to the side and her chest heaves in her tank top, she is no longer under the blanket, having tossed it to her knees. He doesn’t pull the sheets back up, afraid of her reaction if she felt constricted. Instead he sits next to her, saying her name and trying to wake her with light shaking. She gasps and bolts upright, and he barely has enough time to move his head out the away before she would have run into it. Gia looks around frantically, looking for an exit. She barely registers Clark sitting next to her.

   “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. You are okay, You are safe.”

She looks at him tears in her eyes and bright red energy swirling on her fingertips, and fear radiating off of her. As realization sets in that she is safe she lets her head fall onto his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. This had become the habit that had formed between the two of them. 

  “These have got to stop.” She whispers and tries to let the scent of him relax her, though she never admits that out loud.

  “Feel like sharing what this one was about?”

She huffs and pulls away from his arms. Her head falling back on the pillow she had been laying on. Clark makes himself more comfortable, sitting with his torso against the headboard in the space next to her.

 “It's just more of the same. The same bullshit I’ve been dreaming about since I got here.”

 “Have you tried the breathing techniques that the therapist recommended?”

 “Yes. I have tried it all. It’s no use, I am broken Clark.”

  “No, I don’t think you are broken. You are definitely out of sorts but not broken.”

 “If you saw the sick shit in my head you wouldn’t say that.”

 “I don’t need to see anything in your head to know that what I said is true Gia.”

She has turned so she is in a ball facing away from him. He can’t hear it in her voice but he can smell her tears. He brushes a hand down her arm, she shies away, he doesn’t admit out loud that it hurts his feelings slightly. It hurts him more to see how small she tries to make herself in the ball. He wanted to pull her into his lap, but  he doesn’t want to violate her space. He could only imagine how much that had happened before he got to her. 

  “I was relishing in their screams, watching as I tortured people. I was HAPPY that they were dying by my hands.”

Clark says nothing as she begins crying again,  her strained voice continues talking.

 “What if they’ve turned me down the wrong path? What if I am only delaying the inevitable and I am going to be dark and evil?”

 “To use your colorful language. That’s bullshit. You make the choice to be good or bad.”

 “That’s easy for you to say. Your moral compass is so straight, it’s a fence.”

 “Sometimes but I hate to bust your bubble, but I’ve got my demons too. Nobody, not even me is perfect. I have had those same dreams, lived with the fears that one day power consumes me and I become exactly what people feared I would be from the beginning and that is a threat to all humans.”

She finally turns to him, surprised that he would admit something like that out loud to her. 

 “How do you handle all of that? Knowing what you are capable of and still remain good?”

 “I remember what and who I am fighting for. I remember those that love me. What would it happen if I went dark? I let them be my guide, pull me out so to speak.”

She looks up at Clark who is staring down at her.

“That’s just it Clark, I don’t have that support system like you do. What if I do get dragged into the dark? What if I lose myself and become the big bad you have to end? ”

He sighs and he can still hear her crying, his head dropping back to the headboard with a small thunk. He didn’t like thinking about that. He opens his arms and lets her make the choice like he always did, she does as she always does  pulls herself upwards into the hug. Feeling evermore a small child, in a big world. He made the world smaller for her, even in her tears she now felt safe right in his arms. 

  “You’ve got to promise to put me down if I ever go there. Don’t let me become the monster they tried to make me.”

He just hugs her tighter and she tries to burrow down further into his chest, tears on his shirt.

  “Yes you do have support. I will do everything in my power to pull you out of the darkness. I won’t ever just leave you there.”

  “Scouts honor?”

She says jokingly but still sad. Clark just slightly tightens his arms and responds.

  “I promise you Gia, I will be your support system, I will always pull you out of the Darkness.”

*End Flashback*

Gia/Synergy is moving her hand up and down the length of him and Clark forced himself to focus. He starts letting moments and images fly by in his head of all the good moments they shared together. He starts with her rescue and how she felt in his arms. He can tell that she is reading his mind because her hands falter as do her lips on his jaw. He continues on, thinking of how they trained together, how he feels watching her, the joy she has at mastering a new part of her talent. He focuses on the love he has for her and pushes it to the forefront of his mind. By now she jumps up, off of his lap, holding the sides of her head.

  “Whatever you are doing Superman, knock it off!”

  “I don’t think I will.”

He felt bad that his love for her was causing her pain, but he needed her to understand that he wasn’t giving up on her. 

Gia /Synergy tosses herself into a wall, slamming harshly as her breathing turns ragged, she is in a panic because she doesn’t understand why she has all of these feelings and thoughts. Why did she have all of these memories with Superman? Her brain felt like it was being torn in two as repressed memories and feelings came up, clashing with the things she has been told. Was he lying to her? We’re these false memories?

 He couldn’t be lying because the counterpart to these memories were coming up for her in her mind.  

Fuck it hurts her. Her face feels wet but she can’t wipe them. Why was she crying? She feels paralyzed as memories of her mother and his mother and Lois run through her head. She felt all the hurt and pain again, just as fresh as if they had just happened. The battle rages in front of Clark and he knows he has to use the one thing that he didn’t want to but it was clear she was breaking down and all she needed to do was remember.

He thought about all of the memories he had with their son. Lingering on how she and Kalen bonded and her holding him in her arms. How he felt to see her hold their son, how he wanted their family back. 

  “Come on Gia, Kalen needs you back. I need you back.”

This triggers almost every moment good or bad she has had with Kalen since he was born. 

Clark worries as Gia sobs painfully, but then breathes a sigh of relief when her head finally pops back up with watery red eyes.

“Clark?!” 

A/N: What did y'all think? If its not obvious I included the tag because Clark, while he is clearly more than attracted to Gia here, for some this can be triggering because he is tied to a chair and if you squint because he was there against his will, her touching him is non-con...

I felt I owed a brief explanation so here you go. I hope nobody was too offended and if you were let me know privately, please don’t troll the story.

I LOVE feedback and it makes my day so thank you to everyone who shows me and my story love, because it is truly appreciated.

KEY: *Means inner-thoughts* 

TAGLIST IS OPEN! Let me know if you want to be on it!

@romyr4​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @thethirstyarchive​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​ @kmcmpmd​

[sohin-ace]

Dio - Eternity

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

You stood at the entrance of a particular alley in the dead of night. The same alley you always stood at when you waited for clients.

The night was cold and the icy air hit your lungs painfully, freezing you from the inside. Your hands were numb and flushed red as you rubbed them together, trying to get some desperate amount of heat to warm them up.

Tonight, you were waiting for him. You've known him for years, way before he moved from the city to live with the Joestar family. But he recently came back to you and started asking for your services.

"My apologies," You heard from behind you. "I made you wait out in the harsh cold." The man said, his voice deep and quiet he slowly approached you.

You turned around only to be met with the blonde man you were expecting. You sighed with relief upon seeing his face.

"Dio..." You breathed out with a smile, your breath visible in the night air. "It's fine, I didn't wait long."

You wanted to get straight down to business as you reached inside your pockets, but before you could even try, he leaned down and grabbed your hands and engulfed them in his much bigger ones.

You gasped slightly. His hands were surprisingly warm and almost burned against your frozen ones, but it felt nice.

"It has been quite awhile since last time, Y/N. Let's take our time tonight." He looked down at you and squeezed your hands a bit tighter, feeling them warm up by the minute.

"Don't you want your merchandise and get back? It's pretty late too... Or should I say early?" You chuckled and looked up at him as he gave off the ghost of a smile. "You should just take it and go home quick. You don't have to pay me tonight, since it's you."

"No I have the money. I just want to cherish my time with you." You quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh? That's new. I didn't remember Dio to be this affectionate." You teased a bit but softened your tone. "Why do you sound like you're going to die soon?"

"Don't be stupid." He spat, "You're closer to death than I'll ever be, look at what you do for a living."

You gasped dramatically, pretending offense. "Hey! Don't judge me, Mr. Attorney who buys drugs!"

He released your hands and glared at you as you giggled at his expression. You hit a sensitive spot. You reached for your pockets again and took out a small pouch. You opened it to reveal a bundle of tablets to him.

"I don't know many people who would order this one, so I shouldn't be mistaken." He nodded and you secured the bag again and handed it to him.

"Thank you." He hid the product inside his coat and you looked away, worry evident in your eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N?"

"Dio... I don't usually ask my clients questions because it's really none of my business, but you're important to me..."

"Oh? Then ask away as you like, darling." He replied almost teasingly as he took in your soft trailing voice.

"Who are these for...?"

He paused for a second, his smug grin faltering from his face and his eyes cast in a strange shadow.

Dio could trust you with a lot of things, but he would never give away his own plan. Despite what you did for a living, you were a good person. If you knew the truth, you would for sure turn your back to him.

He couldn't take that risk. He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"I think what you are asking is, are those for me? No need to worry, those are not for me."

You sighed in relief. "When I started selling them to you, I warned you about the doses and the side effects."

"I am aware, Y/N."

"Those are deadly, Dio. Be careful."

He puffed in sheer amusement, making a cloud of condensation in the process. Oh how adorable you were when you were worried about his safety. Him, a complete demon. The last person to worry about.

He laid a big hand on your cold cheek surprisingly gently, lifting your face up to meet his amber eyes as he leaned down to your level.

"Y/N, keep on fending for yourself, like the strong woman that you are, and stop fretting about me, as I am a strong man as well."

You stared at his hypnotizing orbs and laid your hand to rest on his own as you nuzzled in his warmth, closing your eyes. "Hmm... If all my clients were as charming as you, I would go out of business so fast."

He smiled and let go of you as he gave you your amount due. You weighed the bag in your hands and looked at him with wide questionning eyes.

"Th-... This is way too much...?"

"Keep the change." He simply stated, putting his hands back in his pockets and you scoffed at him.

"Are you looking down on me, Lord Dio?"

He smirked at you, knowing well you were only half serious. He wished he had more time with you to drive you even more crazy. You neatly put the money away in your coat and wore your best smug expression.

"Joke's on you, Brando, I'm already used to robbing the rich."

"Good for you, Dealer Queen." He mocked and you joined him in his laughter. "Well, as much as I enjoy your company, it is time for me to go. I am... Unsure of when I will come back."

You showed him a reassuring smile. "Well you know where to find me, Dio. Same place as always."

"Sure. Don't stay out too long, Y/N." He turned on his heels and started walking away as you called out.

"Okay. Tell your brother I said Hi!" He turned his head around and deadpanned at you, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I'm telling my goody-two-shoes brother the local drug dealer said Hi."

You burst out laughing as rolled his eyes and finally left, ready to pursue his evil plan. Once he was done with all of this, he would come back to take you, he promised to himself.

"You just wait..."

You walked alone in the dark streets that you knew like the back of your hand. You were directing yourself back home after finishing all your business.

Fleeing away from the stinky alleyways and taverns, from the drunkards, prostitutes and drug addicts, even though you were partially to blame for their demise.

A lot has happened during the last few weeks and you didn't know what to think anymore. As you neared the Thames, you heard a noise behind you. Footsteps on snow, to be exact. You tried to ignore it, but the anxiety-inducing, padding noises were getting louder and louder.

Whoever he was, he was following you, for sure.

"What the hell do you want?" You spat without even turning around, gripping the small knife you kept in your pocket tightly.

"You wound me, Y/N. At least face me if this is how you greet an old friend." You'd recognize that deep voice anywhere. You gasped and whipped around to look at him.

"Dio?!" You smiled and approached him, sighing heavily with relief. "You scared me! Don't creep up behind me like th-..."

Your breath cut short as you walked up to him and got a better look at his features. You noticed something was different, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

He showed you a confused look as to why you went quiet so suddenly. You squinted your eyes slightly at your blonde friend.

"Have you... Done something to your eyes...? You look so pale too, Dio are you okay...?"

Dio decided he would go straight to the point. He was looking for you for a reason and he would not beat around the bush.

"Y/N, I came for you." He spoke honestly and your eyes widened slightly.

His tone was different than usual and something told you that he didn't come to you as a client tonight. Nor as a friend, either.

"For me...?"

"I realized something crucial. Humans have their limits," You didn't say anything and listened closely to his words, taking in his grave tone. "But I have walked beyond humanity."

"Beyond..." You repeated with confusion, trying to process what he was talking about, but he just continued.

"I rejected all of it in order to go further."

You couldn't understand any of what he meant, but you knew he was dead serious and it scared you. That intense look in his blood red eyes piercing right into your soul made your heart pump faster in your chest.

"...What do you mean... Dio?" You said, voice shaking between heavy breaths.

He took out an ominous looking stone mask and you stared down at it, eyes wide and mouth agape. What was that? What was happening?

"Y/N... join me. There isn't much people in this filthy world that I can trust, but you... I want you by my side. Come and spend eternity with me."

He offered an inviting hand towards you. You glanced from his hand to his face and gasped as you finally noticed his sharp fangs coming out of his mouth. Just, what did he become?

But before you could voice your thoughts or even react and him sensing your hesitation, he forcefully grabbed your wrist and pulled you right against him. He wouldn't take no for an answer.

"D-Dio wait-!"

You struggled, but he wrapped his strong arms around you, locking you flush against his solid chest. You tried to push him off, but it was useless, he was way stronger and bigger than you were.

Your mind was racing, you never felt this scared in your life. You knew Dio had always been a tempered man, but never had he ever brutalized you in any way, shape or form. You couldn't recognize him.

He secured one steel arm around you, making sure you couldn't move away, only to then bite on the hand that was holding the mask. Immediately after, he slammed the stone mask onto your face, smearing his blood on it in the process.

You gripped on his hand and the mask in a desperate attempt to remove it as it effectively muffled your screams and whimpers.

"PLEASE DIO, I-" You were sharply cut off by the mask planting its appendices right through your skull, killing you instantly, leaving him in a haunting silence.

Your soft cold hands slid from his wrist and you went completely limp in Dio's arms as he held you close, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

The mask shook and abruptly retreated its grip on you, slipping from your face and revealing to the blond the sight of your peaceful expression. Your face now pale with death and your lips darkening with blood.

"Absolutely gorgeous." Dio breathed out, admiring his work of art under the moonlight.

You were already a beautiful woman before, but now you were just stunning. The look of immortality suited you best.

Just then, your lids twitched slightly and your eyebrows furrowed, signaling your awakening to him.

"A-aah..." You groaned, feeling a burning sensation in your dry throat. You weakly grabbed on Dio's coat for support as you looked up at him, his familiar face welcoming you back. "Dio... What happened?"

"How do you feel, Y/N?"

"I-...I'm thirsty... I'm so thirsty it hurts..." You whimpered with pain and confusion and Dio tightened his protective hold on you.

"Shhh, it's okay, calm down." He shushed you with a soothing voice as he studied the fragile look on your now crimson eyes.

Perfect. It was just perfect. Everything was falling into place and with you beside him, his goal was coming even closer to his reach.

"Don't worry about a thing, Y/N. I'll explain everything to you in due time. For now, sleep."

Your mind clouded, you could only obey as you closed your eyes, falling slowly into slumber.

You trusted Dio blindly, and not having much to lose anyway, you didn't mind anything that was occuring.

You could hardly be blamed, most people trusted the man carelessly as well, that is how charismatic he was, after all.

He hoisted you effortlessly in his arms and walked off, ready to take care of you. He looked forward to this new life with you.

Oh how eager and motivated he was to get rid of Jonathan now.

[ruvatia]

Behind The Ears, Please.

Anonymous asked:

A cute, fluffy story on Lance as werecat? Just like his character, Pike, he has cat ears and a tail. He and his female human s/o are cuddling together. She can't get enough of his cat ears and playing with them. :)) Or maybe playfully tickle war. :))

Pairing: Lance x Reader Word count: 1,1k

ONESHOT, VERY SHORT.

(this gif isn’t the usual size I go for but it was just so perfect, I couldn’t resist. Also big rip I scheduled this for nEXT YEAR THAT’S WHY IT NEVER CAME OUT AHSHSHA)

Sneaking away from a ball was very rude, your parents had often told you. Although it’s not like you could help it, the people there were just so boring.

You regretted ever attending any fancy dinner that you were invited to because of all the fake smiles and forced politeness that you got from the nobles that were there. They didn’t have a choice but to treat you, a commoner with a title, an equal to them which irked them to no end.

Your mother was well-known as a medic that did their part for the glory of this kingdom and honor of her family, but it didn’t change the fact that she was a commoner in the end. She died before she ever had the chance to receive a title from the ruler of the kingdom, but you were alive to accept her title for her and carry on her work.

“Party didn’t work out for you love?”  a voice said as you entered the gardens that lead to your quarters.

You turned around and was met with a sly smirk that you knew all too well. Brown eyes met yours and became soft, your reflection becoming apparent despite the darkness that surrounded you.

“What about you? It’s prime time to rob some nobles and redistribute riches,” you said, a finger booping his nose.

He cringed a little at the action but showed no other sign of disliking it, physical contact a clear weakness of his. The taller man circled you, his voice tickling your ear.

“I had more important things in mind tonight, I ditched them.”

“Pike, are you sure you should do that?” you said, turning around so you wouldn’t lose sight of him; recently he’d taken to disappearing and surprising you when he could and you were not screaming, by fear of alarming someone that might be nearby.

“I’m not the best on the team anyways! They’ll be fine without me for the rest of the night. But you, on the other hand…”

“I can last a party or two without a bodyguard, Pike.”

“I know that. I was talking about me. I can’t be without you.”

Stunned, you froze in your steps. A smirk came to your features as he reached for your hand, pulling you to your room.

“Smooth,” you commented, making him chuckle.

----

After you’d changed into more comfortable clothes, Pike had pinned you down and refused to let you leave the bed, his exhaustion becoming clearer as you got closer to him. His arms circled your waist, his face resting on the pillows just above your shoulders. Almost immediately after you’d crashed on the comforter, you felt him melt against you. Nothing would be better than falling asleep by your side, he’s convinced of it now.

“That bad huh?”

“Old man saw us coming. If it wasn’t for Meklavar and Keith I doubt we would’ve been able to tell that something was odd,” he replied. “Gotta hand it to them: I’m the assassin with detection skills and yet they’re the ones that point out traps more often than I do.”

He felt you frown even without looking at you. Often you’d heard his team members tease him and although all those involved knew that they never really meant to hurt him, the words still stung when they accidentally hit too close to home. You sighed, which made him nuzzle a little closer to you.

“At least none of them have the skills to disarm the traps though, do they?” he said, half for himself and half for you.

You kissed his temple in response, your hand staying against the back of his head. At first, you combed your hand through his hair but after a while, you started scratching the back of his ears like you did to cats and dogs that you saw during your trips to the city. By reflex, Pike tensed and you felt it, immediately regretting your action.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just--” you stammered as he lifted himself from you.

“No, it’s alright! I was just… I wasn’t expecting it.” he said, reflecting your flushed cheeks. I don’t hate it, I was just surprised.”

“So, it doesn’t feel bad?”

“No, but it’s not the best feeling either? A-at least not to me, who isn’t used to it. S’a bit odd.”

“Then why do cats and dogs often appreciate being scratched there?”

“Probably because they don’t have opposable thumbs to reach the--- are you comparing me to an animal?” he said, fakely offended.

“Well if you want to get technical, You have wereclan tribal marks, ears and--”

“That’s it! I can’t believe that the love of my life would think of me like that!” he shouted, the hands that were holding you together pressing in dangerous places.

“Pike, no! S-stop!”

You felt the feeling course through your spine, and the laughter slipped in small doses from your lips, despite biting down on them so hard. Meanwhile, Pike kept talking.

“Comparing me to an animal you can meet in the city, even if that’s where we technically met, I cannot tolerate being insulted this way! You will pay for this!”

He acted like he was offended by what you said, but you knew that the tickle war was only to get both of your minds off of the heavy topic he’d brought up before. He always came to you when he was feeling down and while you were never the best for comfort, you were the best distraction from his insecurities. For a while, you wondered if that’s all you were going to be for him: a distraction. It was a surprise when you found out that your affections were returned, soon after you met his teammates that he had talked about so dearly during his nightly visits.

As much as you wanted to help him get over the insecurity of his place on the team, you acknowledged that it wouldn’t happen overnight and decided not to pry anymore, simply putting a hand on the one that was trying to pinch your waist. Pike came here most likely to relax and wind down from all the action he’d been through tonight, he shouldn’t be spending more energy cheering you up when he already seemed so low on it.

“Alright, it’s getting late,” you said, catching the hand that was sneaking around your waist. “I don’t know about you but I’d like to get some rest.”

Pike’s smiled turned from mischievous to gentle, his face sinking into the crook of your neck. “I’d like that very much.”

And after one last quick peck, he melted against you until morning came.

[hanhan156]

Hanhan’s October writing challenge: Rammstein Halloween pt #7

The prompt: Halloween is rolling around and an odd fair has come to town with all manner of old-fashioned clowns, fire-eaters, and jugglers. The character(s) get their hands on tickets to see the show and cannot resist.

And a description because otherwise, it might be a bit confusing: Paul and Richard - or better known to each other as H31k0 and Choco-Krusp=) - have been online dating for a while when they finally decide to meet in real life. On their nice date evening, after having a couple of drinks together, Richard invites his date to visit a circus. There they are introduced to the main attraction they’ll never forget - a duo called The Magnificent Lindemann & Lorenz.

-

H31k0: So, are you gonna send me your pic? :)

Choco_Krusp=): Of course not honey, have some patience. ;) You’ll see me tomorrow.

H3ik0: :(((( But how I’m gonna recognize you then?

Choco_Krusp=): I’ll send you a picture of my jacket I’m wearing tomorrow. But see you at five, goodnight. (x)

H3ik0: I can’t wait, sweet dreams Liebling. <3

Paul came to the bar they were supposed to meet a bit earlier. He tried his best to act cool while sipping his beer, but his hands were shaking annoyingly - hopefully, no one noticed it. He distracted himself by picking his phone constantly. That one particular picture he had gotten this morning was still haunting: a picture of a leather jacket with rivets. Even from this small detail, Paul could tell that Choco_Krusp=) was going to be illegally gorgeous.

He gulped. I need more beer now.

5:00

5:03

5:05

The clock was ticking disturbingly. Where is he? Every time the door opened, Paul startled, but still no sign of anyone with a leather jacket.

But just when he was about to go to the toilet, the door opened once again - a guy with spiky black hair in matching red and black clothing stepped in the bar, his eyes seeking for something or someone.

Oh mein Gott, that’s him, oh shit. Paul wasn’t sure was he prepared for this.

He exhaled nervously - he knew he had to act now and introduce himself to the person who was so familiar yet so unknown to him still.

Paul approached the man and had almost a heart failure when their eyes finally met.

“Umm, Choco_Krusp, I assume?” he asked shyly.

The other man beamed when he realized he had found what he was seeking. “Yes!” he replied and offered his hand to Paul. “So nice to meet you finally, H31k0! I’m Richard.”

“Yeah, I’m Paul, nice to meet you.” He wondered, did it suddenly get hotter in the bar or why he was sweating so much.

The evening went on and a couple of beers later, they both relaxed after the awkward start. What Paul didn’t know was that Richard had been scared to death as well about meeting his online partner finally even though he had tried his best to act self-confident.

They couldn’t stop staring at each other and with every passing beer they had more courage to come closer to each other. Paul hoped the sweet evening would never end.

“So, umm…do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?” Paul asked and hoped he didn’t sound too desperate.

“Actually, I have.”

“Oh, ok then.” Yeah, of course, he must be busy, what were you thinking…

Richard leaned closer. “I have a plan which includes you as well.”

“Aha?” Paul’s cheeks were now on fire, but luckily, the dimmed lightning saved him from exposure.

The other man dug something from his pocket: two pieces of paper. “There’s a circus in town and I’d love it if you’d join me there.”

Paul took the other ticket to his hand and read the colorful text out loud: “Willst du dein Platz in Flammen sehen? Is that the name of the circus?”

Richard nodded. “Yes. So, are you coming with me?”

“Definitely, it sounds too interesting to skip.” And if it gives me more time to adore your handsome face, you don’t have to ask twice.

From the strange name, Paul expected that the circus wasn’t going to be an ordinary one, but still, he was surprised when he saw it in his own eyes. Firstly, there weren’t any families with kids and secondly, the acts weren’t the classics like poodles jumping through hula-hoops or clowns throwing pies at each other. Instead, what they had witnessed so far, included for example pole dancers - meant to be sexy, but Paul and Richard were more interested in each other than hot ladies now - clowns telling offensive jokes, insulting the audience members and almost naked woman doing acrobatics with an anaconda and a python. One of the weirdest dates Paul had ever been in, but still, he had to admit that Richard was not only a good-looking guy, but he also seemed to have fascinating interests.

After the snake lady had finished, it was time for the final act.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is what we all have been waiting for! Let’s welcome the Magnificent Lindemann & Lorenz!” Paul had seen a vague picture of the main act outside the circus tent but didn’t have any clue what it was about.

The arena’s lights were dimmed and through a heavy smokescreen, two figures were approaching the middle of the arena: the other one walking with slow, confident steps, and the other crawling on the ground - it was difficult to tell was it an animal or a person.

When the spotlights were targeted on the performers, the audience saw the duo properly: another one was a huge guy, in gothic clothing and make-up - he resembled a grotesque bodybuilder. His partner - a slender, topless man - was on a leash like a dog.

“Holy hell, this is some next-level shit,” Richard whispered and took his date’s hand in his own. “I can’t wait to see what’s gonna happen…”

Paul was uneasy about this. “Is this some…S&M stuff?”

“I honestly have no idea, but we’ll see soon.”

The show began with the huge guy spanking his “pet” with a long whip which made noise so loud it made Paul pity the submissive guy - it must have actually hurt, but the target of the whipping had just frozen to his place. But even worse than being spanked was that the big guy dug out an artificial penis from his Lederhosen and started to hump his sidekick like a horny alpha male dog - to make it more realistic, there was even white liquid spread all around the circus tent. Paul was now certainly happy they weren’t in the front row which seemed to get quite a dose of the fake cum.

The show proceeded and in every act, the main theme seemed to be humiliating the slender man in the most twisted ways possible. For example, in one of their numbers, the huge guy came to the arena with a giant pot in which he cooked his partner, acting like there was going to be a feast with human flesh tonight. Paul bet they both got burnt by the flamethrower the huge guy was using - even the audience could feel the hot waves. Overall, the disturbing show was filled with fire and the acts looked dangerous.

Even though the performance felt out of place and disgusting, neither Paul nor Richard couldn’t get their eyes out of the entertainers - in fact, the whole audience was mesmerized. There was something strangely fascinating about the bond between the two men on the arena: how on earth would somebody be willing to do this publicly? They seemed to be perfectly ok with this - it was their bizarre way to express their art and at least if nothing else, it was unique. It was like an overview of a catalog of human beings’ darkest secret corners nobody wanted to admit they had.

Their last number contained two of them hitting each other with plastic tubes - it was now sure that it wasn’t fake blood on their faces - followed by the huge guy chewing wine glasses, spitting the shattered glass on the ground and forcing his companion to walk over and to roll on them naked. The climax was them both lifted up to the ceiling with metallic wings, flames coming from the tips.

Finally, the lights went out and the roaring, hungry audience was craving for me.

“That was…amazing…I desperately need to meet those guys,” Richard mumbled and stood up, offering his hand. “Are you coming with me?”

“W-what, like immediately? Is it really a good idea…”

“Yes, before the audience starts rushing outside. There must be a way to sneak into the performer’s dressing room.”

You are impossible… “Umm, I’m not so sure about it…”

“C’mon, come with me, please.” Richard had an instinct that if he wouldn’t act now he would regret it for the rest of his life. There was something unique and hypnotizing in this art form: even though how risky it would be, he wanted to meet the guys doing this in person.

Paul stared at the offered hand when he sighed and finally took it. “Let’s be quick then.”

They ran as fast as they could through the audience, towards the unknown in the darkness. Paul kept thinking of where he would end up with this guy. Still, he knew already, he’d follow him even into the lion’s den - Richard was simply irresistible.

[geethedentist]

The Sassenach Warrior

Catch up on Chapter 5 here!

Chapter 6: The Wonders of Whisky

Rising from the chair, I froze halfway trying to decide if I should go after Jamie. Dougal had suddenly became aware of my presence once again, as if coming down from an intoxicated state. I suppose he was. 

He smiled. It was not a nice smile. 

“You look very pleased with yourself.” 

“Pleased? Ye should come back and see me when Scotland and the Bonny Prince are victorious.” 

I crossed my arms. “Forgive me, but hasn’t there already been two failed Jacobite risings?” 

That remark dampened his euphoria. “Watch it lass, I expect ye to remain civil. Ye’re only here because I still dinna ken what yer game is. Ye ken nothing of those risings and what Scotland has been through.” 

“I am being perfectly fucking civil. You on the other hand, are a complete barbarian. I take it that Jamie is only here to be used as a prop?” I gestured toward the door through which Jamie had just left.

He let out a long breath. “Please try to understand. ’Tis nothing against the lad. He just happens to be the owner of a verra strong example of English brutality and ruthlessness. He swore loyalty.” 

“He did no such thing and you know it. I was frankly shocked he sat there for the past hour and let you do that. Good night.” Before he could say anything else I swept up my half-full mug of ale and my meat pie and stomped up the stairs. 

I awoke an hour or two later in a sweat and a coating of pie crumbs. Sighing, I draped my arm over my face. The dream was quite unsettling. Dougal was the one flogging Jamie and once again, I was sitting there watching with a mug of ale. Jamie had looked pleadingly into my eyes. The dreams were worsening since I had been taken by the Scots, but they had started when Uncle Lamb died. I let out a shaky breath and climbed out of bed. 

There was a figure in the back alley of the tavern below. My stomach flipped when I realized it was Jamie. His familiar form was hunched over as he sat on a wooden bench. His knuckles were a mess of blood, though he made no move to staunch the flow. It was rhythmically dripping onto the ground in front of him. It ran between the cracks in the stone. I tore myself away from the window and tried, unsuccessfully, to go back to sleep. 

The next morning my head felt heavy; it hovered dangerously close to my bowl of porridge. What should have been the most sound sleep I’ve had in weeks was punctuated by horrible dreams of varying content, guilt for some reason, and other feelings I did not care to identify. I blinked heavily and parted my jaws in an enormous yawn. 

“Ye look like ye’ve been up all night,” Murtagh commented. 

“I suppose I had gotten used to sleeping on the ground.” I answered. Then I swung my head to look around the room. “Where is Jamie?” 

“Why?” Angus interjected, a large annoying smirk on his face. 

As much as I wanted to hit him, displaying hostility would only encourage it. I tried for nonchalance. “I just noticed that he isn’t here. That’s all.” I added a shrug for good measure. 

“The lad woke up hours ago, he’s spendin’ the day in the stables if I’m not mistaken.” Murtagh answered me, ignoring Angus. So Jamie wished to be left alone. 

That evening saw us all in the taproom once again. I had just finished supper when I noticed with dread that the tavern was much more crowded than it had been the previous night. Dougal was drawing a larger audience then, and word was spreading. Jamie was led in by his uncle. I imagined that the days he was flogged looked quite similar to this. 

Dougal then began the exact speech from the previous night, and hearing it a second time made it far less impressive and far less passionate. I wanted to spare myself the sight of Jamie’s anguish by spending the night in my room. But tonight, I was going to make sure he was okay. 

We had not spoken in two days. 

It took longer for the taproom to clear out this time. A young man with light brown hair was the last to drop his coin in. His cheeks were ruddy and covered in dense patches of freckles. Dougal bowed to him. “Alba a ’toirt taing.”

A confused expression momentarily crossed his face before he nodded and made his way to the front door. He passed the armchair in which I was sitting. 

“Save your money.” I said to him. 

He stopped. “He’s going to save Scotland.” I almost felt sorry for the innocent, deluded look in his eyes. 

“He thinks he’s going to save Scotland.” I said, putting my legs up on the table. 

“Well, what’s he going to do with all that money?” He demanded.

I sighed. “What’s your name?” 

“Peter, Miss.” He hadn’t commented on my attire, but I could feel him staring at it. 

“Peter. What you just saw was a carefully rehearsed ploy in which that man exploited his nephew for money. Sure Dougal cares about Scotland and I imagine that he’s going to attempt to use that money to raise an army against England. But if you ask me, he’s a child in a grown man’s body. A couple pence is not going to help. Feed your family instead.” 

His eyebrows knit together. “I shall keep that in mind, Miss. You’re quite the cynic aren’t you?” 

I smiled insincerely. “Being a pessimist is wonderful. I am either always right or pleasantly surprised. Have a good evening sir.” 

After he had gone I dimly realized that he wore no tartan and spoke no Gaelic. My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Jamie attempting to shrug back into his destroyed shirt. Tonight was different than last night. He was not angry. He was defeated. The floor above us creaked as Dougal entered his room after having counted the night’s earnings. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Can I help?” 

He did not say anything, but nodded once. Permission granted, I took the two tattered ends of the shirt and tied them in a knot at his back. The scars shone in the candlelight. 

“At least now it won’t fall off.” I whispered. 

He still said nothing, and I realized that he was holding his breath. 

“I have - I have no idea how to sew.” I said stupidly and unnecessarily into his silence. 

His fingers drummed on the counter, I saw fresh scabs. His head turned slowly towards me. He gave the most infinitesimal smile, but it was the most I’ve seen in days. “I didna think ye would, Sassenach.” 

My breath came out in a laugh, and he continued. “Maybe I’ll teach ye one day.” 

I was still laughing, more out of some unexplained relief than from what he said. “No thank you!”

He pretended to be taken aback. “No thank you? All Scottish boys are taught to sew and knit ye ken.”

The barman approached and placed a glass of amber liquid in front of Jamie. I sat up straighter. “What is that?” 

He picked up the glass and swirled it around. The way the liquid caught the light was pleasing to look at, and just watching it made me feel warm. He took a sip and savored it before answering me. “It’s whisky, Sassenach. Ye’ve never had?” I could tell by the gleam in his eye that he was hoping I would say no. I shook my head, still staring at the glass. 

“Then I am honored to be the first that ye shall drink it with.” He waved the barman over and had him pour me a glass. “Leave the bottle, if ye please.” Jamie told him before he went into the kitchen. 

I held my own glass at eye level right in front of my face. He was intently watching me inspect my whisky. I sniffed it, and the scent was complex. It smelled like Scotland. After the first swallow, there was a small fire burning merrily in my belly, a warm trail down my throat, and several unidentifiable flavors commingling on my tongue. It was magnificent. 

Half an hour later, the bottle was almost empty, and the small fire had become a raging blaze. We had spent that time laughing hysterically and having a belching contest. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to get drunk, and I said as much as I reached to pour some more. 

Jamie’s eyes widened. They were becoming a bit glassy and bloodshot. “Sassenach I fear ye may be drinkin’ me under the table and I am ashamed.” 

I snorted. “Please, I could drink any one of you under this whole tavern.” 

That sent him into a small fit of laughter. “Would ye like to test yer theory on the lads, then?” 

My reply came without thinking. “Actually, no. I find I can only handle them in small doses. I’m quite enjoying this sad little drinking party and all two of its current members.” 

He smiled. “Me too.” After a short pause, he tentatively reached out his hand. “Ye have something in your hair.” His speech slurred faintly. “Um. Do ye want me to get it out?” 

I shrugged. “If you think it will help my tangled mess look more presentable.” 

Permission granted, his hand continued reverently up to the top of my head. 

“Coltach ris an uisge ann an allt, mo nighean donn.” 

He carefully extracted some piece of lint, and lowered his eyes to my face. I watched as he switched his gaze between me and the glass of whisky I had suspended near my lips. Suddenly, Jamie MacTavish abruptly reminded me why I had not spoken to him for two days.

“It looks just like yer eyes …” He breathed. 

I lowered the cup with a sharp exhale. He was beet red, and that’s when I realized he was in over his head. It didn’t matter now if I ignored him completely. He would still be torn apart when I left no matter what. I silently cursed myself for not leaving sooner.

Being in the company of these Scots was the longest I had been in anyone’s company since I lived with my uncle. Before this, I had never had time to forge any kind of profound connection. I had kept interactions and acquaintances short and unattached. It was safer for me that way. 

Jamie sat there sweating now, and gazing at me expectantly clearly hoping that his fuck up would reward him. I shuddered to think what sorts of sober thoughts would make it out of my drunken mouth. 

Instinct took over and an irrational urge to make him angry at me manifested itself. If I had known all that was going to unfold after, I would have gone to bed right then and there. I suppose I thought that angering him on purpose would make it easier for him when I was gone. If he hated me, he’d be glad to see me go. 

 I attempted to look him straight in the eye, although at this point my vision was beginning to spin slightly. “Why do you let Dougal do that to you?” 

He stiffened. “I could ask you the same.” He said lowly. 

I clenched my teeth together. “It isn’t the same and you know it. He’ll put your back on display every night!” 

“Not the same?” He chuckled humorlessly. “Dougal is controlling and manipulating both of us.” 

“Excuse me but nobody can control me.” It sounded ridiculous and delusional on its way out of my mouth. “You on the other hand, can take your body back anytime you like!” 

“Then ye prove ye ken nothing of clan politics!” He half shouted back at me. “As for you, ye can leave anytime ye like as well. Ye can leave and keep running, I ken how badly ye want to.” His burr was growing quite broad, almost to the point where I had to strain to understand him. 

“I can’t.” I whispered. “You’ve got me all figured out don’t you?” 

“And I canna leave either.” He suddenly had the same vulnerable and tortured expression as the say he showed me his back.

“But the scars … He’ll bring you a constant reminder each night if he keeps this up. I know you hate the pity it brings down upon you.” I suppose I had been trying to get him to oppose his uncle because I was powerless to do it for myself. Perhaps I enjoyed the fact that I was only one who had seen them. 

“The scars are there and they always will be, ’tis hard to forget the past when it’s written all over your body.” 

Admittedly, I had drunk much as I did that night for two reasons. The first was to be a bit of a show-off, and the second was because I truly loved the whisky. There came a moment when I entered a completely different plane: that of the hopelessly intoxicated. It happened in an instant, and the world tilted dangerously. But the spinning was accompanied by that strange sentimental, affectionate feeling that only alcohol can bring. I put my hand on his shoulder. 

“I have trouble forgetting the past too.” For weeks I had hovered between wanting to push Jamie away and wanting to keep him close, and I had chosen both within the past five minutes.

“I can help…” His voice was barely a whisper. My heart was a hammer in my chest. It drowned out the creaks and moans of the tavern. Jamie’s face drew closer to mine, his mouth hung open slightly and his eyes were focused intently on my lips. The world surrounding him kept spinning and it made my head throb painfully. If I kept my attention on him, everything was stable. He was the focal point. I involuntarily inched forward to close the gap. 

The front door banged open and raucous laughter accompanied it. A brief mixture of disappointment and relief came flooding as I nearly catapulted myself as far back as possible as quickly as possible. Rupert and Angus had returned, each with a girl in tow. 

Angus waved at us without taking notice of the fact that we were both red in the face, breathing heavily, and sinfully drunk. “Jamie! Ye should have come with us!” He called cheerfully. 

“I was otherwise engaged.” He answered stiffly, plucking at his tattered shirt between his thumb and forefinger. 

I stood listening to this exchange numbly trying to process the last thirty seconds. Eyes shut tight, the room revolved violently although I stood still, albeit swaying a bit. 

My eyes popped open with the realization that I was being addressed. “What?” 

“I said,” Rupert repeated, “are ye sober?” 

My face scrunched as I tried to put him into focus. “I am moderately functional.” 

He howled with laughter. “I’ll take that as a no!” 

As they thundered up the stairs Jamie had risen from the stool with an expectant expression. I twisted my fingers nervously. “I - I should follow their lead and head up to bed. I’m afraid I’m not going to feel very well at all come morning.” At this, I saw the line between his eyebrows deepen. 

“Thank you for introducing me to the wonders of whisky,” I added, trying to lighten the mood and bring back the platonic nature of our relationship. 

“Aye, Sassenach. Sleep well.” 

I staggered up the stairs, clutching the railing. Jamie had returned to his seat at the bar. I saw him push the whisky away. 

Laying on my back, I felt as though I was floating in water, being slowly pushed and pulled, but somewhat weightless as well. My mind too muddled to think, I passed out no thanks to the waves of vertigo swirling around my head. 

I have always found that when all one wants to do is sleep, it the absolute last thing that one is able to do. I awoke painfully and peeked under the drapes. The sky had the faintest light to it, no longer dead of night but not quite dawn either. 

I shuffled over to the washbasin and chugged a glass of water. Hands braced on the edge of the basin, breathing deeply, all of my problems hit me at once. I angrily shoved hair out of my face attempted to regain some control in order to figure things out. 

Right then, first problem: my near kiss with Jamie. Before contemplating a solution, I gave myself a stinging chastisement. What in the ever-living fuck were you thinking Claire?! 

Oh God, it was so bad. It was irreversible. I could not even recall how my face made it into such close proximity with his. I suppose it happened involuntarily. I could hear his heart pounding from where I sat. … Or was it mine? An irrational surge of anger overtook me. I wondered what could be going through Jamie’s head at the moment, I was almost certain that he was awake as well. Oh no. Would he try again? Curse that whisky, I thought, blaming the alcohol. And then it became clear. If alcohol got me into this, it would get me out.

__________________________________________________________________

Everybody must have been waiting for my arrival downstairs the following morning because it appeared they had bet both upon the time I would arise and upon how horrible I would look. 

Dougal and Ned were out collecting some of the rent, but Rupert and Angus sat in the taproom barely able to control their laughter. Murtagh was chuckling as well. Out of the corner of my vision I noticed Jamie staring intently at me. I did my best not to look at him, afraid one glance would acknowledge that I did in fact remember everything. 

“How are ye feeling today lass?” Angus clapped me on the shoulder as I took a seat. 

I glared at him. My eyes felt swollen and heavy. “Better than ever, thank you for asking.” 

“Ye ken,” he continued, “one of the best things to cure a hangover is alcohol, believe it or not.”

My stomach lurched. “Do you want me to vomit on you?”

After another round of laughter at my expense, everyone left to go about their day and I was finally allowed to eat my porridge in peace. Well, almost in peace. 

“I’d say I’m sorry they were makin’ fun of ye, Sassenach. But that’s what ye get for winning a whisky drinking contest against a Scotsman.” Jamie had moved to sit across from me. 

“So it was a contest? I hadn’t noticed.” 

He shifted uncomfortably. “Claire, I - how much do ye remember from last night, exactly?” 

Moment of truth, I hoped my acting skills were up to the task. “Well I must admit that it was a bit of a blur after the belching contest. I do believe you relieved my hair of a piece of lint but that is about it.” 

A flash of grief crossed his face, he blinked rapidly and exhaled strongly through his nose. But as quickly as it had come, he pushed it away. 

He tried once more, “are ye certain?” Oh God. He knew. But I was clinging to my story like a piece of driftwood in a storm. 

“I’m afraid so, but one thing I do remember is how much I loved that whisky.” 

The conversation continued cordially after that, but each of us knew the truth. I kept telling myself this would all make it easier for Jamie to forget me when I left. So in a way, I was thankful that he knew I was lying, that I refused to accept the truth about what happened. 

As for my leaving, I had partially solved that problem as well as I lay in my drunken stupor. I thought about Dougal and his obsession with financing an army for the Prince. I could either wait until we returned to Leoch to inform Colum of his brother’s latest financial venture and still run the risk of not being set free. 

Or, I could help Dougal along. Perhaps if I had some money to contribute to the cause, he would see fit to trust me. It was as Uncle Lamb used to say: “Throw money at the problem.” Perhaps Dougal  would leave Jamie alone as well. However, this was where my plan was incomplete.

Should I sell something? Become a whore? Rob a bank? 

That evening, the perfect opportunity would present itself to me when Rupert and Angus urged us all to come with them to have a bit of fun. 

“If ye were wonderin’ where we were last night when we got back, now is yer chance to find out!” Angus was attempting to herd us out the door. 

Dougal and Ned declined. Murtagh, Jamie and I shrugged and followed them. We strolled down the central street, chatting amiably until we turned a corner and stopped in front of a seemingly dark inn. I raised an eyebrow. 

“Now I ken what yer’re thinkin’,” Rupert began. “But this isna just an inn. Claire I’d wager ye will be the one to enjoy this the most.” 

Rupert and Angus were both standing with their backs to the tall fence that separated the inn from the property next door. Sheets of paper adorned the fence, town bulletins, advertisements, someone’s lost cat. Then I saw it. Or rather, I saw me. I saw my own face and my own kinky mop peering back at me from a wanted poster pinned right next to Rupert’s head. My eyes widened but he took no notice and kept talking. I looked helplessly at Jamie and tried discretely to dart my eyes in the direction of the poster. His eyes narrowed as a puzzled look came across his face. It did not take him long to find it. 

“Oh Jesus,” he said softly.

Murtagh had seen it too, but he said nothing. Jamie’s fingers were tapping rapidly against his thigh. I could tell he was improvising a plan. They would sell me out to Dougal right away. 

“Ah I see why ye wanted to come back,” Jamie said suddenly and loudly. “This is where ye met those bonny lasses, isn’t it?” 

“Aye well that’s part of it!” Angus said. 

He stepped forward, put his arms around their shoulders, and steered them away from the fence toward the side entrance to the inn, where the only light seemed to be coming from. Angus had begun animatedly describing his meeting with the girl from the night before with Rupert chiming in occasionally. I all but lunged forward and ripped the poster down, shoving it immediately into my pocket. Murtagh stood watching me with his arms folded. I lowered my head guiltyly and followed the others. 

[winsister91]

FGA Daedric Princes (Part 12)

Summary: The group split up as Dean and Shannon take off for their mini vacation and the Sammys hold the fort at the Bunker. Heaven keeps a close watch...

Characters: Dean x Shannon (OFC), Sam x Sammy (OFC), Gabriel

Warnings: Fluff, Crack?.Pissy frustrated boys?

Word Count: 3821

A/N: Written by @sofreddie and @winsister91. Side project we’ve been working on. FEEDBACK IS GOLD!! We’d love to hear your thoughts as this was spawned from us trying out different writing and characters. We hope you enjoy! Somehow I survived the writing of the last chapter. Now it’s all about the slow calculated counter-attack ;)

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Shannon dropped her bag in the trunk and made her way to the passenger door of the Impala, climbing inside and carefully shutting the door behind her, “So, you gonna tell me where we’re going or…”

“I made some reservations,” Dean smiled proudly, “How does our own private hidey hole on the beach sound?”

“Really?” she beamed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she looked over at him, “That sounds...awesome!” she laughed.

“Right?” Dean agreed, just as excited as she was, “So I was thinking we can get some booze, chill out on the sand...when it gets dark I’ll make a fire...properly scenic stuff.”

“You’ve got it all planned out, huh?” she smiled bashfully, “It’ll be nice to spend some time together. We haven’t really had a chance to just be, you know?”

“I know,” he nodded, “It’s been pretty non-stop, but...maybe this can be our thing once and awhile. An escape.”

“Well, let’s see how this goes first,” she laughed, “Who knows, you could get tired of me after spending so much time cooped up with nothing but me around.”

“If anything, you’ll be the one who gets fed up of me,” Dean laughed, “The only risk I got is getting addicted,” he tossed her a wink.

They drove along for several hours, music playing in the background as they took in the scenery and talked, about their lives, their dreams, and anything in between. 

“Tell me a secret,” Shannon asked, shifting to turn in her seat, facing Dean, her elbow propped on the back of the seat as she let her eyes wander over him lovingly.

“A what?” Dean laughed slightly, glancing at her briefly, “Well...what kind of secret?”

“The kind you’re scared to admit to anyone, including yourself,” she urged gently.

“Well, you apparently already know everything I’ve done,” he countered, “and you’re still here which makes you doubly insane might I add.”

“Well, you’re hot as hell, so that helps,” she grinned at him, “And yeah, I know what all you’ve done. But I don’t know what you think or feel or want.”

He chuckled, cheeks slightly pinkening at her first comment, before he thought aloud, “What I want…” he mumbled, “I’m not even sure myself… but I know despite all the crap we’ve all been through the last month, having you around has made me the happiest I think I’ve ever been, truly.”

“I haven’t done anything but managed to bring demons and Heaven down on your head,” she sighed guiltily, “I don’t understand how that makes you happy.”

“Well not that stuff obviously,” Dean chuckled, “But that’s not your fault. I’m talking about...your smile. Your laugh. Seeing you look after everybody. You and Sammy bitching each other out but obviously loving each other to the end of the earth. Your sass...Need I continue?”

“I’m happy too,” she smiled softly, “The four of us, after everything, it just feels like a family unit, like we all click and fit together somehow. And I know that’s cheesy as all get out, but it just seems right, like this is how it’s supposed to be, for all of us.” she shrugged, blushing.

“Can’t argue with that,” he said with a nod, “‘cause that's exactly what it is. Right.”

Sammy’s eyes slowly opened, her head heavy and groggy. Sam’s room came into focus and she couldn’t stop the smile that grew on her face. With a grunt, she sat up, the cold air hitting her skin and making her shudder. Pulling the sheets around her, she glanced about for her clothes, finding them scattered haphazardly around the room.

That’s when she saw the clock, it was 1pm and her eyes went wide.

“Shit!” she hissed, scrambling to get dressed. An afternoon wake up wasn’t exactly abnormal, but it usually came after staying up until after dawn. 

The Bunker was quiet as she paced the halls, a little too quiet, she passed by her own room and saw her game still sat on pause. Mentally telling her PS4 she’ll ‘be right back’ she went in search of coffee.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” Sam said, smiling from the island as he was making a sandwich for lunch, “How did you sleep?” he automatically began making a second sandwich, knowing she’d be hungry.

“A little too well seemingly,” she smiled sheepishly, approaching the coffee machine and yawning heavily, “Where are them two?”

He chuckled lightly, “Would you believe Dean planned a romantic getaway?” he laughed, “They left a few hours ago. Said we could use some time to ourselves too.” he finished making the food, bringing the plates to the kitchen table, “Oh, and he said when they get back, we can take the car on our own trip.” he wiggled his brows excitedly at her.

Her eyes lit up at the food, before they narrowed, “Wait, they’re gone!?” she whined, “Shannon went up and left without saying bye to her wife!? I feel like I’ve been dumped…” she pouted.

“Babe,” Sam sighed, holding her hand in his own, “For what it’s worth, she didn’t want to go until after you woke up. But Dean was eager to head out and I figured you two would just catch up on the phone later.” he shrugged.

“Any other time, I’d have been awake,” she folded her arms in a fake sulk, “But someone went and...a-and….heh…” she blushed and smirked.

“You’re welcome,” he teased with a big grin, “What do those doctors know anyway? Should’ve just prescribed you a giant dose of Sam Fucking Winchester.” he chuckled.

“More…” she chuckled at her own thought before she could say it, “A giant fucking from Sam Winchester,” she giggled childishly, “But wait, did you say Dean’s letting us run away somewhere when they get back?”

“Baby, you ain’t been fucked...yet,” he smirked with a wink, “And yes. When they get back, we get to take the car and go where ever we want. So start thinking up a vacation.”

Her cheeks burned, brain going plenty of places that weren’t vacation ideas, “Heh...I...um...I’ll work on that later,” she rose from the table, “Right now, I got some gaming to catch up on.”

“You’re gonna make me jealous of that damn thing,” he pouted, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on her belly as he looked up at her with his signature puppy-eyes.

“O-oh God,” she mumbled, “There it is. The famed puppy eyes, fuck! They really are effective…” 

“How about…” he thought for a moment before giving her an innocent smile, “You go play for a bit and later, you can make it up to me?”

“Oh I’ll play,” she smirked, “Yeah, and then you’re gonna see what a counter-attack from Sammy Fucking Kelly is all about, just you wait!”

His grin turned sinister as he nipped at her stomach and one of his large hands gave her ass a squeeze, “I look forward to it.”

There was a small whine in her throat as her blush spread down her neck. Mind racing, she already regretted her words, there was no way anything she could think of was topping what he had planned she figured.

Dean pulled up to the small seaside cabin, just as the sun was beginning its decline behind the horizon. He threw the car in park, looking over at Shannon who had dozed off close to an hour before. He smiled, deciding to grab their bags and ready the cabin, before coming back to wake her, guiding her into the cozy abode.

“Wow,” she breathed out, taking in the small but lovely space, the back wall all windows looking out over the water. She smiled, walking towards the window and watching as the setting sun cast warm colors across the water, “This is pretty impressive, Dean.”

“It is,” he nodded in agreement, standing by her at the window, “I’ve always wanted to do something like this…”

She tugged on the sliding glass door with a wide grin, stepping out on the small deck, “Come on!” she cheered, running down the steps and onto the beach toward the surf.

His eyebrows raised watching her jog ahead, he grinned loving the sight of her being so care-free. He jogged after her, catching up to her just as she reached the water, “You’re gonna get your clothes all wet,” he chuckled.

She turned, wrapping her arms around his waist and smiling coyly up at him, “I was under the impression I wouldn’t be wearing them long anyway,” she cooed, pecking his lips lightly.

“Damn,” he grinned devilishly, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, his own hands snaking around her waist, fingertips lightly tucking into the waist of her pants.

“Unless, of course, this was meant to be an innocent escape,” she teased, batting her eyes at him.

“And what aspect of me do you think has ever been innocent?” he countered, his hand ruffling her hair as he lightly bit his bottom lip, “You’re beautiful Baby.”

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she teased, “So I’m guessing we have to run to the store tomorrow, stock up the fridge and whatnot so I can cook for you,” she grinned, “So what do you want to do about dinner tonight? I’m sure you’re starving.”

“Nuh uh,” he pressed a finger on her lips, “You’re not doing anything but relaxing. S’about time I showed you my own cooking expertise.”

“Mmm, that sounds good,” she agreed, “I could get used to this whole ‘playing house’ thing,” she joked, blushing bashfully.

“Well good, ‘cause you’ll have to get used to it,”  he smiled, “You’re right though, we’ll need to go to the store so...takeout tonight?”

“Whatever you want, Dear,” she teased, kissing him once more.

“Dear?” he laughed, “Ok, darling.”

She scrunched her face in distaste, “Yeah, no...that’s just weird.” she laughed, releasing her hold on him and looking back over the water, “Maybe tomorrow we can go in the water? Swim a bit, ooh! We can walk the beach for shells!” she said excitedly.

“Sure,” he narrowed his eyes mischievously, pulling her back to him, “Or we can just go in the water now?”

Before she could answer, he had hold of her, spinning on his heels and falling back into the surf, dragging her down on top of him.

She squealed in surprise and gasped in shock as the water came rushing up to them once more, “Dean!” she giggled, slapping him on the chest, “Now we’re all wet.” she chuckled with a playful pout.

“I did warn you,” he shrugged, splashing the water like a child and laughing.

She grinned down at him, hovering above his lips, “Now we have to shower…” she mockingly complained.

“Well isn’t that just a pickle,” he bit his tongue playfully.

She leaned down, kissing him tenderly, pulling back with a happy sigh, “You do realize you’ve gone full romance novel, right?” she laughed, “Making out in the sand at sunset…” She moved to kiss him again, before a bigger wave crashed to the shore, washing over them abruptly, “Oh fuck!” she exclaimed, wiping the water from her face and getting to her feet, holding out a hand to help him up, her clothes and hair now soaked.

“That’s why romance novels are full of crap,” Dean joked, taking her hand and pulling himself up, and shaking the water off his face before grinning, “So how about that shower?”

“Uh...yeah,” she gave a small smile, blushing as she made her way back to the cabin. Her mind ran a million miles a minute. Did he plan on showering together? But that would mean he’d see her naked. Did she ask him to join her? She made her way into the house, grabbing her bag and looking around for the bathroom, her features betraying her nervousness as she nibbled on her lower lip.

Dean tossed his jacket onto one of the cabin’s small radiators, still chuckling softly to himself. He started looking around too, opening doors and peeking into the rooms. His eyebrows raised at finding the bedroom, a large queen sized bed which already gave him thoughts. 

With only one door left, a huge wet room came into view, “Wow…” he said, “Okay so...uh…” he looked at Shannon and suddenly felt shy, “You get first dibs.”

“O-okay,” she breathed out shakily, nodding at him as she passed to go into the wet room. She gave him one last glance as she shut the door behind her, letting out a long breath once she was alone, before going about her shower. She came out a short while later, freshly cleaned and dressed in her tank top and sleep pants, smiling sheepishly at him, “It’s all yours.”

He found his eyes lingering on her, the tank top tight and showing off every delightful curve. Composing himself, he nodded, “I, uh, found some takeout menus so go ahead and pick something.”

She nodded, watching as he disappeared into the wet room, his wet clothes clinging to his back, his muscles visible beneath them. She let out another shaky breath, shaking her head and composing herself as she went to peruse the menus. By the time Dean returned, she had settled on what she wanted.

“Hey, I figured this could work,” she handed him the menu with the notes on what she wanted. Her eyes lingered on him, looking so relaxed in the simple t-shirt and track pants.

“Works for me,” he said with a smile, mentally picking for himself and grabbing his cell. After placing the order, he went out to the car, grabbing some beers from the cooler he stashed on the back seat. He looked out over the beach as he made his way, chuckling to himself. If someone told him a month ago this is what was coming, he’d have never believed it. Stepping back into the cabin, his smile grew broader as he laid eyes on Shannon, holding a beer out toward her, “Drink on the deck?” he proposed.

She accepted the drink, nodding as she made her way back onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs that faced the water. The sun was nearly dipped beneath the horizon, the outside growing dark, the sounds of the waves crashing the only noise around them.

Dean sat in the chair beside her, knowing he should probably be admiring the view, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. “I know we pretty much just got here,” he said, “But what do you think? Think this could work as a regular escape spot?”

“You tryin’ to get a timeshare, Dean?” she laughed, looking over at him, “I think it’s perfect,” she admitted.

“Timeshare,” Dean scoffed, “Believe it or not, this place actually doubles as a hunter’s safe house. All I do is put the word out for everyone to stay the hell away.”

“This is a safehouse?!” she exclaimed, shocked, “Wow...y’all hunters got it made.” she whistled. “So wait...you own this place?”

“Trust me, the rest of them are dives,” Dean laughed, “Nobody really owns it, but it’s a favored spot. This is actually my first time here, word was some Hunter completely did the place up ‘cause he was fed up of having to crash in dumps.”

“Well if it’s a common house, then you can’t really keep people away, Dean. What if some hunter shows up because he needs a place to hide out?”

“They get some cash put in their hand and sent away to a motel,” he shrugged, “No one will show up, trust me.”

“I do,” she said, so simply and matter of fact. A knock at the door drew their attention and Shannon stiffened slightly, her eyes sliding to Dean in question.

“Huh…” Dean got to his feet, “Food comes real damn fast around here.” He ventured to answer the knock, his face dropping at the sight on the other side. 

“Heya, Dean-o,” Gabe smirked in greeting, holding up the bag of food, “You ordered some Chinese, right?” Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the archangel, “Oh come on!” Gabe protested, “You finally got some time alone with your Sweetie...just checking that all is well.” he smiled, looking over Dean’s shoulder to see into the house, “Nice digs.”

“Everything’s just fine,” Dean growled, snatching the bag of food, “Now get lost.”

“So,” Gabe lowered his volume, “Tonight’s the night, huh?” he smirked, wiggling his brows and rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Are you-” Dean nearly shouted, opting to step out and close the door behind him first to try and keep Shannon out of earshot, “Are you fucking serious!? Cas was supposed to tell you feathery dicks to leave us the hell alone!”

“Oh, he relayed your message,” Gabe confirmed, “But, you know, Heaven’s agenda, bloodlines, yada, yada, yada…”

“You know,” Dean shook his head, completely done, “If you guys put as much effort into other stuff that you do with this, the world may not be so fucked!”

Gabe’s happy expression dropped as he narrowed his eyes at Dean, stepping into his personal space, “Now you listen to me, dick,” he said, raising a finger for emphasis, “Why do you think Heaven is so intent on continuing the Winchester line, hmm? Your kid...your kid, is gonna be the one to stop things that you don’t even know are coming. And I am that kid’s...let’s just call it a...guardian. So how about you stop being so self-centered and focus on the bigger picture!” he growled, his anger shining in his eyes.

“Y-you,” Dean looked at Gabe in shock, “You are gonna be...my kid’s Guardian Angel?” Dean couldn't hold back the titter in his voice, “That’s hilarious, poor little bastard.”

“Archangels don’t usually take these gigs, but with Winchesters involved,” he shrugged, “So you do your part and I’ll do mine,” he smirked, before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

“Dean?” Shannon’s voice could be heard calling to him from inside the house and he realized how concerned she must be.

Dean shook his head, still processing the new information before heading back inside. After they ate, they found themselves back on the deck, drinking the last two bottles of beers as the moonlight shine across the sand and water.

Sam made his way from Sammy’s room to the kitchen, having been trying to learn the game she was intent on teaching him to play. He quickly pulled out his phone, deciding to check on Dean, as things always seemed to pop up on them.

“Hey,” Sam said into the phone, “Just wanted to check in, see how things were going,” he said to his brother.

“Yeah, having your little brother ring up while you’re trying to have a romantic getaway really adds to the mood,” Dean scoffed on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, well I wasn’t too thrilled when Gabe popped in earlier,” Sam groaned in frustration, “Randomly dropped off some Chinese food and said you were a dick.” he huffed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean also groaned, “He came over here, spinning shit about bloodlines again…”

“Why haven’t we killed him yet?” Sam asked, exasperated.

“I’m not sure if that’s an option anyways,” Dean huffed, “Turns out he’s taking the job of being… my kid’s guardian angel.”

Sam’s eyes went wide, trying to decide which bit of information he wanted to tackle first, “Uh...ok, I have so many questions…”

“Ditto,” Dean agreed, “They’re recruiting for a role that’s not even available, but...as much as a dick Gabe is, at least...well...this supposed kid should be relatively safe having him as guardian.”

“I’m surprised you’re so calm about it,” Sam said, “I’d be suffering from performance anxiety at a minimum after that bombshell.”

“Okay don’t emphasize it!” Dean hissed, “We’re just...hanging out right now. Couple of beers, watching the waves, there’s no rush….right?”

“Really, Dean? You’re off on some trip, with a beautiful woman, alone, and you’re dancing around it?” Sam scoffed, “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were gay.”

“You’re not the one with Heaven breathing down your damn neck and practically watching!!” Dean snapped, “You worry about you, I’ll worry about me, and I’m not gay!!”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Sam agreed with a laugh, “So you have fun with that.” he teased, “Oh, and Dean?”

“What!?” Dean groaned.

“If I were you, I’d triple check my protection,” Sam laughed, “You’ve got a trickster hell-bent on plans after all,” Sam said, ending the call with a smug grin as he made his way back to Sammy.

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket, glancing at his bag. Specifically, the pocket he stashed the box of condoms in, he slowly zipped it open, seeing the box still there. Raising his eyebrow, he pulled the lid open and it was empty. “Son of a bitch!” he growled.

Sam came back to Sammy’s room, chuckling to himself with a grin as he sat back on the bed next to her, smiling as she paused long enough to slurp some noodles before returning to her game.

“What’s so funny?” she looked at him in curiosity before swiftly turning back to the game.

Sam proceeded to fill her in on his conversation with Dean, laughing almost to tears as he struggled to explain. “It’s just,” he paused to catch his breath, “I know it’s a sucky situation to be in, but from the outside, it’s almost hilarious. Especially seeing him freak out over the whole thing, knowing how much he really wants it.” he started chuckling again, before scooting down the bed to sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched her play, “Plus, it’s kind of nice to be out of the line of fire.” he admitted.

Sammy giggled in agreeance, leaning back into Sam comfortably, before her smile dwindled slightly, “Well...you say that,” she raised an eyebrow, “But Gabe showed up here too...he may not have said anything but...well, doesn’t that show we’re kinda still in the crosshairs a little bit?”

Sam’s eyes went wide, her words sinking in, as he quickly untangled himself from her, shooting off the bed and dashing to his room. Sammy could hear him shout from down the halls, “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!! Gabe! You piece of shit!!”

Sam came marching back into the room, hopping as he was pulling his shoes on his feet, “I’m gonna run out real quick,” he said, somewhat out of breath, pecking her lips, “Be back in a few minutes.”

“Ooo!” Sammy jumped to her feet, “Let me come! I wanna buy some junk food.”

“Babe, we just got Chinese,” he laughed.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, “...And?”

He sighed, “Yeah, okay,” he relented, “Come on.”

SOFreddie’s Forevers:

@oneshoeshort

@winchesterprincessbride

@iamcmims

@roxyspearing

@reigningqueenofwords

@mogaruke

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@speakinvain

@shotgunintheimpala-blog

@atc74

@sterekloveaffairs

@winsister91

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@chook007

@growningupgeek

@goldenolaf25

@esoltis280

@hobby27

@sis-tafics

@arryn-nyx

@x-waywardaf-x

@shann-the-artist-moon

@sandlee44

@lucywinchester2000

@emoryhemsworth

@ohmywinchester67

@stanclub

@time-travel-bouqet

@buckysbrat

@papi-chulo-bucky

@captain-ak84

@find-sammys-shoe

@calaofnoldor

@donnaintx

Winsister91’s Forever Posse:

@sofreddie

@ria132love

@chicagolove88

@akshi8278

@sis-tafics

@younoeatcheeseyounobefat

@mandilion76

@supernaturalmagicfolk

@emoryhemsworth

@pheonyxstorm

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@itspronouncedsatanbitch

@the--real-wombat 

@xagateophobiax

@jensen-gal 

@castiel11235

@19agbrown 

@mogaruke

@nyxveracity 

@cole-winchester

@esoltis280

@internationalmusicteacher

@meganywinchester

@sweetness47

@roonyxx

@imperiusimpala

@lazinessisalliknow

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@choosemyname 

@dean-winchesters-bacon 

@hunterswearingplaid

@bella-ca

@rainflowermoon

@calaofnoldor

@scarletsoldierrr

@supernaturalonice

[ikonislife]

To Raise A Star 02.

-Junhoe x Female reader

-Parents au, angst + fluff.

-A/n: Sooooo... I’ve never give birth before so please excuse my description of contraction and the entire process. I tried to research and did my best to describe it. I know it’s probably is a shit and inaccurate description and I’m so sorry!!!

-Part 1

“Let’s break up.” Those three words you’ve never imagined yourself saying even in your wildest nightmare, let alone while carrying his child, had just left your lips. It wasn’t an angry word vomit nor was it a beg of desperation. It was just is.

“Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself, Y/l/n Y/n.” Hands thrown in the air, Junhoe just about has it with your insane antics. Having him going out in the middle of the night braving the cold rain to get honey because what sane person could eat French fries without dipping it in some delicious bee’s backwash? That was fine, he totally, 100% would go out in a middle of a hurricane if you had asked because at the very least he feels helpful in this insane journey of you morphing into “a giant baby carrier and delivery system”, your words not his. There are a million and one things he would say to describe you other than “a giant baby carrier and delivery system” but he learned it’s not wise as of late to argue with you, even if he wholeheartedly disagreed because you’ve only gotten more beautiful. But this, breaking up? You might as well had just asked him to jump off a cliff into treacherous sea and jagged shore. “We’ve been through this, you and the little star in your belly are stuck with me for the rest of your life. Stop this insanity. It’s been months since the company announced our pregnancy and our plan to get married.” Exhausted from a long day of practice, Junhoe his weary body crashes atop your shared bed, a hand resting atop his forehead. “You don’t understand, that’s the only way I can protect you from being impale by hate. Why won’t you just let me do this?” Your exasperation is as real as the nonstop trip to the restroom because apparently peeing every 3 seconds is normal when one’s pregnant. “Because you, miss, is completely out of your mind bat shit crazy. I am not leaving my pregnant girlfriend because a few fake fans can’t handle the fact that I am a grown man and we’ve been dating for five years. Why can’t you see that the rest of the fans are happy for us.” Just as he knows all your favorite things, Junhoe is well aware of your biggest vice of all, your borderline unhealthy obsession with him and how the simplest action from him could melt you, leave your breathless even after all this time. Pulling you as far as he could into his chest, his arms woven themselves around your growing body as if this was the last time he’d ever see you. “Please, I just want to be happy. For just one second, can we just be happy about our child without all the bullshit and heartbreak?” A ragged yes was all that choked out from your lips as Junhoe digs his face further into the crook of your neck, soft sniffles betrays his stoic appearance as you gently cards through his soft locks. When adversity dealt its card, one person will always take the heavier hit out of the two… In this case, that person is most definitely not you. He had been so brave, for you, and for the little star. You knew the hates, the spites ate at his heart, even if it’s just a little bit… It still does and that breaks your heart. He never once complains, not a single word and even though you could see the exhaustion so clearly behind the haggard features and tired eyes, Junhoe was still smiling so brightly, just as he had always been. As soft kisses rain down on your tired soul, you lean further into his touches, solace returning to your little growing family.

Safe to say no one had ever gone through life without a few moments when the wings of butterflies so great, vomiting seem to be the only viable option, no one understood this more than Junhoe himself. From the moment he had set out with the dream of becoming a star, it was audition after audition, survival show after survival show, there wasn’t a moment since Junhoe had set off to achieve his dream that anxiety hadn’t been a friend. Time and place might be different but in the end the feeling remains the same, more so now than ever. The thought of you being alone, of the long sleepless nights, and days will be spent away from home had twisted his guts into pieces as if the once docile butterflies’ wings now equipped with blades. A night away feels like a year, and this week-long concert feels much like eternity. All the practice, the sound checks, all the prep, nothing could ease his heart of the anxiety, of being away from you. No matter how many times you had laughed off his worries and the smile seemingly always on your lips, Junhoe see right through your façade but he won’t show.  Because he knows the moment he crumbles, so will you and if the only good thing he could do to ease the mind of his seven months pregnant fiancée is to pretend then by hell he will. The last few nights had been… Restless to say the least and the butterflies had grown into full fledge storms, twisting up inside his chest. The itching so deep within his bones to be by your side, to feel the light kicking of the little star, it ran so deep he suddenly found himself weak, clawing at the nonexistent burn on his skin. Not a second gone by that he didn’t think about the exhaustion so evident in your starlit eyes despite the warm smile, vigor on your lips. It’s funny really, he’s been your partner in crime for five damn years, five good damn years of the greatest hits and worst punches, ‘bout to get the promotion of his life yet you still got it in your head that you could lie to him. Junhoe knows all too well the moment he turns his back, your hand would be at your back, little circles rub in haste to alleviate whatever pain it could before his attention return. If he could have the world his way, you’d be right here with him but that was no longer even an option as your bump grows heavier each day. Even your weekly date night had turned into take-outs and watch movie at home on the couch night. Needless to say, you flying to every single concert to see him, well that was completely out of the question. He was sure by now too, you’ve grown tired of his endless calls and texts even if you had just picked up his call with the loudest, brightest greeting known to mankind. “How are my babies doing tonight?” Nothing, he swears, nothing makes him happier than the sight of you enjoying your food, more so now that that you were eating for two. “So good! Can you tell Yunhyeong the little one loves his soup? And I super appreciate that he took time to cook for me!” You gushed, dribbling a bit of soup down your chin and was rewarded with the best sound in the world – his laughter. Junhoe has the best laugh in the world, anyone who has a problem can come fight you. The night could be weary and day, hell. Just one smile and a bit of laugh, it was like none of the adversity you had faced matter. He lights up your days the way no one else could and you are so incredibly lucky to have him by your side through thicks and thins. “I will let him know. I miss you guys so much.” Laughter gone, leaving a heavy sigh mingling in the silent of the night. “I know, but only one more night!” You cheer, “One more night and you’re home!” Your cheer seems to lift his spirit. Even if it was only a tiny bit, it was enough to tug that handsome smile back onto his lips. It was hard to grumble and mumble when you insist upon showing him endless pictures and videos of your doctor appointment just that morning. Junhoe’s completely moonstruck, gushing and aweing the entire two hours he manages to get in before you scold him to go to sleep. Even then, good nights and love wishes taken nearly another half hour before a grumpy man finally hangs up the call. For the first time in months, Junhoe truly feel prepare, that nothing in this world could get him down as long as you and the little one were there with him. For the first time since he reluctantly packed his bags and left, the sandman finally graces him with a peaceful sleep.

Even as the blaring of his alarm piercing through his ear drums, Junhoe awaken with a smile on his lips. The hours to come fill with endless schedule but his heart knows, once midnight rings through, once more he’ll be on his way back to you. Yet all the happiness bubbling so close to the surface, the excitement, all that was shattered the second he realizes the 15 miss calls from both your parents and his. Fear wrecking through his body, the world that had seemed so bright and happy just a second ago begins to crumble beneath his feet as each dial tone tears away another piece of his heart. Calls after calls went unanswered, contact list runs short as panic engulfs his soul. It couldn’t be, he laughs in complete disbelief, you were still nearly two months away. This body had taken him through the highest and lowest, endured endless hours of practice as trainee with barely enough food, dosing him with the adrenaline of standing on the big stage of their first concert, supported him through the tears shed when iKON had their first win. Yet the moment he needed for it to work, to do its job just as it had for so long, his body left him to dry, frozen in shock. There wasn’t a thing he could do, not even the worst-case scenario creeping up in the back of his mind could get it to move. So, he stands there screaming, letting the tears stream endlessly down his cheeks, praying for someone to come help him… Help you. Yet just when he had thought all hope was lost, his managers along with the rest of the boys barge into his room, a commotion follows. His mind in a blur and the next moment he comes to, Hanbin was shoving his phone against his ears and the sound to spew from the speaker was one that left him in excruciating pain. You’re crying, calling for him. And all he could do was utters over and over again, “I’m coming home.” The taxi barely has time to halt its speed before Junhoe already diving out the door, sprinting toward the white glow of the hospital, never mind that his manager was scrambling to pay the poor driver, shocked from the young man suddenly sprinting off. He didn’t know where, or how he could even reach you but he knows time was of the essence. He runs and runs until the call for his name echoes through the empty hallway filled with the scent of disinfectant and beeping of machines. “Junhoe, hurry.” His father calls for him, not too far behind was yours, wearing the most painful expression on his features. His chest burning and legs failing but not now, he can’t stop now, not when you were so close, not when you were fighting so hard. So he follows the two men he had spent so much time looking up to as they lead him up the stair, no time waiting for the elevator. Almost immediately, his mom pulls him into a hug and your mom too, crying but she did the same. “What happened? Where’s Y/n?” He rushes out, terrifies that he was too late. There had been a time when the fear of failing his members, the fear of not being able to make his parents proud was atop the list of things that would crush his heart and soul. Now, as panic and trepidation slowly wrecking every fiber of his being, your cries and screams echoing through his mind, Junhoe was sure nothing else could rattle distress through his bone as much as this. The thought of losing you, losing the little star… It wasn’t one he could fathom in his heart as his exhausted body collapses to the floor. Yet immediately, he pushes himself up, fighting the many hands doing their best to ease his mind, to help him. “Junhoe, sit down. You’ll do her no good if you black out now.” Your mom protests when he springs to his feet, not knowing where to go or even what to do. At the tugging of the dads, he finally settles onto the cold plastic chair lining by the window to your room, curtain drawn, offering him no solace, no sight of you. Even now, the eerie silent that had replaced your cries for him strikes horror in his heart. “She’s in there, the doctor doesn’t know why she went into labor early but…” “What about the little star?” It was now that the implication of early labor had hit him, Junhoe nearly send the worried parents onto the floor when he suddenly propels upward, anxiety laces with every word, every stare he shares. “Healthy, no worry.” Once more under the guide of his mom, he settles into his seats, stilling himself before lips parting once more. But of course, his mom knows just exactly the question about to fall from his lips. “But Y/n is having a hard time delivering, they’re considering surgery now.” “Can I, can I see her? Please?” He begs as if his parents and yours hold the power, but to his dismay they only shake their head, expressing the doctor’s strict instruction to wait. Unable to keep still, not when you had been so silent, hidden away from his arms, surrounding by complete strangers. He should be in there, be right by your side, holding your hands. He had assured you times and times again that he’d be there no matter what, even if you cuss at him, even if you hit him. He’ll be there despite you insisting he didn’t have to, and that birth was a horrific mess of blood and guts. Junhoe had always just laughed it off, if you could push an entire tiny person out of you, he could handle a bit of blood. So he paces, pressing his ears close to the door hoping for even just a single sound but none came. It must have been half an hour before that door he had been ready to kick down swing open, a nurse slowly emerging before calling for family member. “I’m here, I’m her husband.” Junhoe jumps from his seat, rushing over even before the nurse had time to finish her question, not caring that your plan of getting marry was one for the future. “Good news, her blood pressure had decreased quite a bit, so baby is no longer in any harm. But if we can’t get it to normal level, I’m afraid surgery will be required.” “Please, can I see her. I can calm her down…” Junhoe begs once more, praying silently that he’d be allow to see you, to be there for you. He watches impatiently as the nurse disappears once more behind the door, leaning just to steal a peek but he saw nothing but white curtains. “Doctor approves, but only one person can come in. Please take time to decide-“ “I’ll go in.” The kind nurse once more emerges, but before she could get to finish her sentence, Junhoe had already decided. Any other day and he’d be respectful, giving your parents the choice but not today, and he hopes they’ll forgive him for needing to see his wife and baby. At once, he tails the nurse who then instructs for him to clean up, completing the look with a blue paper gown and hat. Another five minutes of instruction before the white curtain hiding you away finally lift, the sight of you so tired and worn steals a sharp gasp from his lungs. Junhoe sighs, wondering just what hell you had gone through while he was so peacefully asleep in luxury, away in another country. Tears begin pricking at the corners of his eyes but not now, he can’t cry now because you need him to be strong. With one sniffle, he forces them away even if you’ll be able to tell, you can always tell when something was bothering him. “Junhoe…” You sigh, a smile blossoms on your lips the second that sniffle tears through the disgusting silent of the room. There was no word that could express the relief washing over your heart and soul the second he hobbles in, redden eyes and sniffles telling you he had been crying. But that smile, the way he was doing so much just to steady his breathing. You adore him so much for trying his best to stay calm for you even though inside, a raging storm of worries was probably tearing him apart. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain of not knowing, of being so far away from you at the most critical moment… you know he blames himself. He couldn’t utter a single word, not one but a tight embrace wrapped your body in solace and love. “I’m sorry for taking so long…”The sentence choked out from his heart, but you only shake your head with an understanding smile. “I should be the one to say sorry, for worrying you like that. I guess the little one is on a different schedule than us, hmm?” You joked and it lifted his spirit to see you smiling so brightly still despite the messy, sweat dampen locks. Junhoe winces at the endless wires and chords coming from your body, and though he couldn’t lay right beside you and wrap you in his arms, he does his best to lean in close, let you nuzzle under his arm. “So, doctor tells me you’ve been doing great so far.” A soft kiss flutters its wings on your dry, chapped lips. “But we got a little more to go, okay?” He mused so gently, if wasn’t for the way his fingers delicately toying with yours, you wouldn’t even know that his nerve was so close to failing. “Okay…” You sigh, shifting uncomfortably around, feeling another round of contraction reigning upon your body. “Are you hurting a lot?” His arm only constricts tighter around your shoulder the second he saw the discomfort painting so clearly over your features. He got his hand gently rubbing at your back, spreading warmth and comfort into your aching back, though you could no longer feel anything below your waist. “No, just uncomfortable.” You tried to heave laugh to ease his mind but all that comes out were small gasps of discomfort, feeling your entire body constricting. “Uh, baby is definitely coming.” You sigh, contractions no longer ease, not even when you let your body fall into the most comfortable position you could manage. Like waves crashing the shore that was your body, though these waves were nothing to remind you of bright summer days spent frolicking by the beach, your contraction worsen with each tick of the clock. With each wave crashed, its intensity on grow and you could do nothing else but grab onto Junhoe as if he was your last life line in the middle of a stormy ocean. The tears he had hidden come crashing in like a broken dam, rushing down his cheeks as he watches on helplessly. Though you insist times and times again, as with the doctor reassurance every time Junhoe winces aloud that you were not in pain, there was no helping his feeble heart from shedding tears. That fear still of the complication, the reason why you had gone into labor early, they hang over his head like a dark cloud ready to storm any second. His mind blank, for every time your face contorted under a push, a soft kiss pressed upon your sweaty skin. He knows full well that this very moment neither his kisses nor hugs could help, but that was the only thing he could do as the doctor and nurses tend to your need. It had been 8 hours, 8 excruciating hours since he first awaken to your frantic voicemails and endless miss calls. His mind weary but it was nothing compare to the stress your body and soul had been under. As the nurses cheer you on, doctor calling for one last push, this adventure share between you and him flashes before his eyes. From the moment he had laid his eyes on you, just an intern doing the grunt work for a big company that had hosted the launch party iKON attended. You were getting bossed by nearly everyone, yet the smile so bright on your lips mesmerized him in ways no one ever had before. He watched you grew from the shy intern to the confident, independent woman that can hold her own in this world. There will never be enough words to describe just what you mean to him, to be there in his lowest moments, to give him a life that he thought was just a dream being an idol, consumed with work. Till now, giving him a child that although neither of you had planned for, it’s the greatest moment of his life, no contest. As the first cry of the little star echoes through the empty room, tears stream down his cheeks, and the biggest smile blooms on his lips. Junhoe watches as you sigh a breath of relief, falling back into his arms with a smile too that very much mirrors his. For just a second, the entire world, the entire crew of nurses and doctor huddling over your still raw wound melts away. It’s just you and him, exhausted and worn, but ready to take on the world with hearts beating as one. For the first time in nearly 12 hours, you both share a laugh, letting the crisp sound welcomes in your little star. “It’s a little boy.” The kind nurse that had put up with much of Junhoe’s impatient self just earlier coos gently, handing over the little bundle of joy all wrapped up and clean. She smiles, congratulation fills the air as she places your brand-new baby in your arms. “We have a son…” He sighs, a moonstruck smile spreads on his lips, completely in awe at the little star. “Nice to meet you, baby. I’m your dad.” Junhoe experiments, letting the new title falls from his lips with a chuckle, joy surging through his every vein when the little fingers wrap tightly around his own. He’s tiny, far tinier than what had predicted at the many doctor visits but he’s still so perfect. Tousles of soft hair swaying gently as you press a tiny kiss onto the crown of his head, admiring just how much he looks like Junhoe… Though your man insists that the little one very much looks like his mom. “I think it’s time you meet the grandparents, little one.” You coo, gently petting his pudgy cheek. Though you weren’t ready to let go just yet, you know just on the other side of the door, your parents and his anxiously await. So you nudge Junhoe on, a soft smile to let him know it was okay to take the tyke away. Wide eyes, Junhoe stares back as if you had just grown a second head before hopping off the bed. For a second, confusion plague your heart as you watch him twisting and patting himself, reaching out his arms only to retrieve them back at lightning speed. “Honey, what on earth are you doing?” You question, wondering if the doctor had given him drug on accident. “Preparing myself. Don’t wanna drop our baby.” He mutters, this time shedding the bulky jacket from his body, grumbling about not wanting the zipper to hurt the little one. “Definitely, do not drop our baby.” Your little tease clearly did not amuse the new dad as he sighs mournfully, no doubt wondering if he’ll ever be ready to hold his new son. “I’m just joking, Junhoe. Come here.” You call for him, pulling him right beside you before letting a small kiss flutters against his lips. “You’re doing great, stop worrying so much. You’ll be the best dad ever, so stop questioning yourself with everything.” “Can you blame me? He’s so tiny… and I’m just scare. I don’t know what to do… I’ve never been a dad before.” Pressing a delicate kiss upon the tiny hand, Junhoe let himself lost in the small nose and rosy cheeks. “I am too, but we got this. And our parents are here for us, the guys are here for us. We’ll take it one hour at a time, okay? Plus, we haven’t even named the little star yet, so it’s not time to have a meltdown just yet.” You muse gently, placing the tiny baby into his arms before waving him off. As Junhoe takes his first step ever into fatherhood with the little star snoozing so peacefully in his arms, a wave of bliss washes over his soul and suddenly everything was right in the world. Junhoe’s so certain that he was always meant to be here, with you, with the little baby. Even if the road had been a rough one till the very last second, it was one he’d take time and time again if it meant always ending up here. Even now, as he carefully hands over the tiny one to the doting grandparents, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the adorable tiny fingers and toes, still in awe that just days ago he was still in your belly, peacefully resting, awaiting his days in the sun. But now, all the things he wanted to do, to kiss, to love, to take the little star on the best adventures ever, or even just to the grocery store… All that was possible and there was no word to express how thankful Junhoe was to you, and to his parents. There was so much he doesn’t know and future so uncertain. Hell, neither you nor him even have a single clue as to what to name your tiny son. There’ll be hardship, he doesn’t doubt that for one second but hand in hand, this little family of his will be virtually indestructible so long as he has you, and his little star.