#I emerge after reading it and can tell you the plot for maybe a week before it fades like a dream

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

What exactly did Bill put in a Midsummer Night's Dream? I swear I've read that play like five times and I can never remember any of the specifics.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.

A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)

Part 2

You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.

The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.

The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory. 

You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...

But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.

And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus. 

And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…? 

This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you. 

You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.

And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.

While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.

And they're more than enough.

Or at least they should be…

You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.

You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way. 

You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.

You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”

“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.

Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.

“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”

“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…” 

You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.

“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.

“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”

“...Why not?”

You look at König; he looks straight back.

The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips. 

“I can help,” he grins.

Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home. 

Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.

You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts. 

You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...

But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.

If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night. 

…

You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.

You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.

They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.

You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.

You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.

Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.

Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…

And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself.

It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.

And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…

Can a man of his size even keep quiet?

He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8. 

You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.

“Kätzchen...”

“König…?”

You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on. 

“Here, kitty, kitty…”

You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".

But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…

Could a grown man get any more silly?

You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it. 

SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.

“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.

“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”

You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.

“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens. 

“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”

“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”

“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?” 

You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.

“You’re crazy, did you know that...?” 

“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.” 

“...What’s that?” 

His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.

“You’re cute.”

…

The whole evening is heavenly. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.

He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one. 

He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.

König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?

You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through. 

You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.

“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?” 

He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.

“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...

“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh. 

“Why not?” 

His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.

He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.

You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.

“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”

“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...

“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”

Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.

And he does want to.

You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.

It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.

You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…

“This is–”

“Inappropriate?”

His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.

The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back. 

It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.

He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.

God… This is better than God…

You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.

You can still turn back if you turn back now…

You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”

He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it. 

You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”

You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.

“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.

“It was a good dream while it lasted...”

…

The rose withers in your cell.

You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him. 

There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him. 

In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.

God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.

“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world. 

“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.

You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.

The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.

“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?” 

“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap. 

Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being. 

“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”

Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you. 

The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.

“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”

…

Work, time and prayer do ease the pain. 

They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.

You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one. 

You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.

Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…

“Kätzchen.” 

A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.

You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves. 

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.

“Dear God… What happened to you?”

You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground. 

He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?

“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.

You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.

“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.

“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”

“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”

His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance. 

König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe. 

And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need. 

So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place. 

It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one. 

When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.

“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”

The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.

“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.” 

You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.

You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.

“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.

“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”

The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.

You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt. 

You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.

You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.

The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.

“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants. 

You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...

And it does make you very happy.

You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size. 

To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood. 

“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”

He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.

“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back. 

Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured… 

...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.

“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.

“Someone, who?”

“Someone to hold hands with.”

He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”

You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.

“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”

Ouch.

“I… I don’t know.”

His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.

There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.

“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose…. 

You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart. 

“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.

“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”

You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.

God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.

There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.

You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.

“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.

“No I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are.”

A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.

You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.

“Are you crying?”

His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.

He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead. 

“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.” 

You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.

“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.

“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.

In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…

The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #7

All right you guys buckle the fuck up cause it's time for absolute peak. Yeah that's right I'm talkin PKNA #4: Earthquake bitch!!! Which also happens to be the EXACT VOLUME THEY STOPPED PRINTING IN ENGLISH FOR, come on man we were so close 😭

(Long and image-heavy post heehoo)

Giant money symbol on the floor..... I wonder who this oil rig belongs to

Donald stop doing some kind of ritualistic sacrifice with your little cookie men and drink ur fuckin coffee. Also Unooo hiiii :3c

A tectonic emergency has occurred on the west coast and these two bitches are busy arguing like an old married couple GET IT TOGETHER!!!!

Raw asf introduction panel for Flagstarr

Do you guys think Everett Ducklair paid his taxes

Most logical you say? I'm sure that's not a trait that will come up later-

BRO IS JUST BAILING 😭

Lmfaooo I love framing Angus Fangus for federal crimes get rekt bozo (also really good looking panels hii Flagstarr hiiiii)

Donald being held at gunpoint like a week after the whole nuclear blast thing, he really can't catch a break can he?

Btw I am CHEWING on the colors in these pages. Who knew purple and green gradients could be so menacing?

Looove the background of this page being made up of the X-transformer.... mwah 👌

sorry

(Spam don't read this part) OK listen I know that losing the west coast is bad and all, but also like, do we really need California? I'm just saying like-

PK: "IF WE DON'T STOP THOSE EARTHQUAKE MACHINES IT'S GONNA UNEARTH A SUPERCONTINENT AND MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WILL DIE" Uno: "Uuuuh idk that actually sounds kinda dope haha. Like a new continent sounds sick as fuck. Maybe we should just let the entire western US die idk lol"

THEY'RE GETTING DIVOOOOORCED 💔💔💔

btw guys I'm getting a playlist set up for this issue send me song recs

let go of him PK

I mean WOAH who said that that's crazy. heroes don't kill people umm do the right thing... also we need him for the code I guess that's important too-

I was explaining the plot of this comic to a friend (one who knows literally nothing about the duckverse) and she was like "oh Fairfax's motivations sound exactly like Team Magma from Pokemon Ruby" and like... yeah... I GUESS

It doesn't help that his design lowkey looks like Maxie in ORAS- like if you squint really hard-

I don't have any riveting commentary here I just adore the entire way this page is set up

Raw asf line coming from Donald Fauntleroy Duck

Yeah it really DIDN'T work out. You're telling me he wanted to keep the keys apart and his master plan was to give the second key to the only other person on the plane with him? Just huck it in the ocean or something cmon Fairfax use that big brain of yours-

I said before in my last post but I just love this issue. I'm sure someone better at literary analysis could explain better than me, but the artwork, the COLORS, the story is all just sooo good and I'm putting it all in my MOUTH. I especially love the messaging between doing what's logical and doing what's right, cause at the end of the day morality is a subjective human trait, and who's to say that killing millions of people for the potential benefit of billions isn't a noble thing to do? Also a rare Uno L in this issue but he's LEARNING okay. He's just a little guy he's just a little hyperintelligent sentient building ok.... leaf him alone........

Btw in case you haven't noticed by now this issue also happens to be what the blog description of @duckblr-book-club is based on and no I'm not the one that wrote that. It is true though, the Pangea Project will be real in 24 hours if certain people don't catch up on reading these comics. SEE YOU NEXT WEEK FOR ODIN TIME!!!!!!

[serenailith]

calling for death

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: e3, trust issues Rating: g Word Count: 593 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags: arguments, death is tired of dream and hob’s crap, cheating of a sort Summary:

Hob is tired of Dream ignoring him, so he calls for Death. Of course, this gets Dream's attention.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

It really isn’t his fault. He’s merely a victim of circumstance. Unfortunately, it isn’t easy to explain. He tries—God, how he tries—but nothing makes the situation better. Dream refuses to believe the truth, and Hob can’t change his mind. They both walk away frustrated and unwilling to talk more.

But it remains stuck in Hob’s mind over the next two weeks, as he lectures his students, as he marks papers, as he falls asleep alone at night. The Dreaming bars him from entering, evidence that Dream still hasn’t forgiven him for a transgression he never committed. Hob supposes he should be grateful that Dream isn’t sending Nightmares to plague his sleep.

It comes to a head an entire month after that first argument. Hob has had enough of the silent treatment, so he does what any sane person would do: He asks for Death’s presence. Not her gift, of course not, never. But Dream won’t know that.

He’ll appear within moments of his Sister, and he will be forced to speak to Hob. Maybe Death can act as mediator. It’s sneaky and underhanded, but Hob has officially run out of options. Nuclear it is.

Death arrives first with a gentle flutter of wings. She raises a dark brow and crosses her arms over her chest. Her ankh necklace sways gently with the movement. Eventually, when Hob stays quiet, she speaks.

“I know you aren’t asking for my gift, so why have you called for me?”

“Your brother is being stubborn and refusing to listen to me. He has some serious trust issues. So I was hoping you could mediate so we can move past this.”

Death’s jaw drops, and her hands fall to her side. Hob stares back impassively. He can read her expression clearly: She thinks he’s absurd for this request, he’s lost the plot. He probably has, but when it comes to Dream, he’s willing to go to the ends of the universe.

Even when Dream is being an idiot.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she says after a long minute. “What happened?”

“He thinks I cheated.”

“Forgive me for asking, but—”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Hob snaps, and Death raises her hands in an effort to placate him. “I’d never do that.”

“Then why—?”

“Because he did cheat.”

Dream’s voice comes before his form emerges from the swirl of golden sand. On his face is a terrible scowl, and were Hob a lesser man, he would cower in fear of that expression. As it is, he’s made of stronger stuff than that, and no anthropomorphic personification of a concept can frighten him.

“I did not.”

Death steps between them, hands up and palms facing each of the men. “Okay, okay. Can I get the whole story?”

“What is there to tell?” Dream asks, voice chilly and firm. “Hob Gadling cheated.”

“It’s not my fault you are absolutely dreadful at Monopoly!”

“This is over a board game?” In all the visits Hob has had with Death, she has never sounded so incredulous. Or angry. “Have you two lost the few brain cells you own? I have better things to do than get in the middle of a petty argument over a game! Dream, you are billions of years old, and Hob, you are almost seven hundred. Act your ages.”

She’s gone in a rush of wings, and Hob raises a brow at Dream. Dream sniffs and lifts his chin, straightens his spine.

“I still say you cheated.”

Hob rolls his eyes and pulls Dream in for a graceless kiss.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

(apologies for how long this ask is! i just think you're very thoughtful and i love your posts and got carried away!)

i think a lot of the tension between people who really enjoyed 911 season 6 and people who were disappointed in it comes does to like. a literary difference. like the difference between doing a queer reading of a textual relationship and reading a textual relationship to be explicitly queer. i mean. i sort of feel like the emotional reaction that fills the 911 tag after a quote unquote “disappointing” episode is the reaction of someone expecting an explicitly queer text based on the queer readings that other people are doing, rather than based on the show itself.

that all sounds weirdly academic but like in episode one of season 6, a lot of people were very excited about the whole “couch theory.” but some people would see posts delving into this fairly clear extended metaphor and then, based on those posts, take the “couch theory” as a definite variable in some equation that “solves” the story and informs the audience what to expect. at the same time, others took the “couch theory” as an approach into the potential of queerness, with all the richness of interpretation that implies (from “this means they’re in love” to “this means buck is missing something basic, but this is still vague”), which leaves the story open instead of solved. it seems like this divide in the fans on this here website gets framed like “people who def think buddie is happening and are sick of people only watching the show for buddie” and “people who don’t think buddie is happening and are sick of people telling them to just watch the show” but the divide i feel like is more about how people are used to reading a text to begin with?

like i personally don’t think “buddie” is going to happen, for a few reasons, or that the writing is super solid (though i would never call it bad), but i also love the show and love all the theories and readings and approaches that take all the writing choices seriously because there is such a rich world of interpretation in any piece of storytelling, especially one with as many authors as a tv show (writers, showrunners, actors, set design, costume design, music, etc). and queering the text is both fun and easy to do given the other themes of this show (the flexibility required in “responding” to an emergency or anything at all, the barriers put up between you and others by the nature of mortality “we don’t go beyond the glass door,” self-actualization through the other, building and serving a community, self-actualization through like-minded people, and the nature of a vocation)(i mean all of those can be queer themes, while being a lot of other things, and don’t necessarily have to lend to a certain narrative, but they exist in the show and are more often than not grounded in character-driven stories instead of the wildly fantastic emergency-of-the-week plots that is the main draw of the show. so it's easy to pick up on them and easy to incorporate them into an interpretation. and thus easy, for some, to think something in a story is definitely or definitely not going to happen.) the long-form episode structure of the story also makes it easy to step inside smaller moments and ideas. maybe a motif will be picked up again, maybe it will mean something only inside that episode, maybe (like in a lot of tv shows) the story is just different to what it was 2 seasons ago, but either way: that's how a serialized format works. and expanding on those small ideas, brought back later or not, has always been a part of engaging with a story anyway.

to be fair to all 911 fans, fan engagement is normally a bit different than any other sort of engagement, and feelings tend to take over. there’s an extremely personal nature to how people “ship,” i’ve noticed, and i don’t think a lot fans get how invested they are until they’re already in there. which isn’t a problem normally if they don’t think there’s any hope at all of their ship going canon, but that’s just not the case with this ship because of how compelling things like "couch theory" become, when you're on tumblr reading about it all the time.

anyway, i've always enjoyed your posts and writing and i hope no one comes after you because of their feelings about your reading of the show once the season starts. it shouldn't be your problem and, like you, i also found myself thinking after watching last season "that was lovely" so i hope to see more of your thoughts for season 7 <3

firstly you are very sweet friend 🥹🥹🥰🥰

secondly i totally agree with you — the nature of fandom is a space where any and all interpretations of a story are welcome and can be as real as you want them to be, whether they’re canon or not. and i do think any divisions are down to individual readings, because there are people who read the theories and “signs” and take them as definitive proof of something and get mad when that turns out to not be the case, and there are people who use those theories as exactly that — something that makes sense and COULD be true, but we won’t know for sure until we get more info. and neither of those are bad ways to interact with spec!! what’s bad is when the “proof” not being real is assumed that the writers and showrunner and actors are bad at their jobs and not doing it RIGHT, regardless of the fact that we don’t know what right is!!! we’re not writing the show!!!

i’ve been in fandom spaces since i was 13 — i have seen plenty of writers and showrunners run their own shows into the ground, so i understand the reluctance to have some faith. but at the end of the day, no amount of interpretations are gonna make sense until AFTER. whether it’s buddie or someone having a breakdown or whatever, we cannot connect the dots before we have the full picture. and i just think a lot of people would be happier if they remember that

[shina913]

🌈🤍🎉 for the writers ask plz 😍😍😍

Thank you for this ask!!! This got longer than expected so I'll put a cut below.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

I can't pick just one fic LOL so I'll tell you the ones that I remember struggling with:

Scale and Scions are fics that I think fall under the "Fics I worked really fucking hard on." For both fics, I contended not only with writer's block (for Scale and Scions) but I also had to do a bunch of research (for Scale) to make parts of the plot seem believable. For Scale--yeah, sure--I didn't have to do all of that but I wanted to and I'm really proud for being able to push those into writing. I'm also really happy with how it turned out and at some point, I would like to dabble in that genre again! I like challenging myself that way.

For Scions (which is an ongoing series), it's incredibly difficult for me to write because 1) it gets very emotional and 2) I'm basically trying to juggle four different stories and squeezing them into one fic. Ofc, I have my main characters but I really like the idea of having these four siblings who all have different things going on in their lives--being brought together by something that they have in common. I'm hoping I can finish it in the next few weeks!!

A couple of other scenes that I struggled with were in my fic, Coquet. There was a medical emergency that I wrote in and same thing--I had to look up videos and do research lol just for the one scene!!! The second instance was the following chapter after that medical emergency--I had to map out this complex scene where several of my principal characters were in it. It was supposed to be a big reveal and I needed to physically draw--on paper--where everyone was supposed to be standing or coming from 😅 AND THEN write it all out. It was wild!!!

And I know it's not that deep but...I like it and it's what I live for!

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Hmm...I'm not sure. I don't get much actual feedback these days so it's hard for me to tell which fic people didn't understand. 😩

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

Oh, I always celebrate a completed series and reblog/pay tribute to my fic "anniversaries!" I may not be happy with how some of them have turned out or there may be little things that I'm not completely satisfied with BUT I love all of my stories. It's very important to me to boost myself, in that way.

While I appreciate being validated by reader comments/reviews, it is just as vital for me to have confidence in my own content whether it's through self-reblogs or queued posts. That part is incredibly hard to do, IMO, because I question myself all the time. But on the other hand, it's what also fuels my writing. I'm just happy that some people would take the time to read or interact with my stuff. It's a rarity on this platform but I do treasure any and all interactions that I receive (as long as they're respectful, ofc)!

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 74 - Baking something with apples in the kitchen (I think it was just a pie?)

Original statement given 8th June, 2015. So this cooould potentially be another statement that was given when our Archive crew was already in charge. If Gertrude's death was in May and not March, if could be a close one though. HR works slowly I heard…

"Even as a child, my mother would always check my room to find me reading well into the night. If I heard her coming up the stairs, I would turn off my light and dive beneath the covers to try and convince her I was sound asleep." - I did that with my old Game Boy. The big grey one. I had this magnifying glass with a small lamp to attach to the Game Boy so I could play in the dark (The first Game Boys didn't have a backlit screen. You needed proper light to see anything).

"I work as a freelance writer. It’s not a good job." - Lol, ok considering that Jonny wrote this statement sleep-deprived and based a lot of it of what he was feeling in that state, is there something he wants to tell us with this statement? xD

"There is a man in my living room. He is tall, with sandy blond hair that twists into unruly curls." - Michael's not even subtle with this one.

"Your vision goes strange when you don’t sleep for a long time. I think it’s something to do with changing pressure on your eyeballs. You start to detect faint movements on the edges, on the periphery," - this is what I meant in my ask to MAG 65 when I said I see things in the corner of my eye when I'm sleep-deprived (or filled to the brim with anxiety). I also thought this to be a great plot device for a potential story.

"Your body will go through phases where it seems to be trying to completely shut itself down, and keeping your eyes open is quite literally a physical struggle. Then all at once you’ll enter a period of manic energy, a second, third or fourth wind that leaves you giddy and nauseous, struggling to find an outlet for your sudden rush." - Yep, can relate very much.

The ambient track in this episode is btw one that will get used a lot in the following seasons, I think? It's more subtle then the one I love so much and I'm sad that it got ditched somewhen in S2 and we only once hear it again in MAG 121.

"Michael, did you drive her to this? Another victim of your warped games? Or were you simply drawn like a vulture? Or maybe a shark sensing blood." - Yeah actually, do we know how it works? Sometimes you can see there was a tendency to things that could attract certain Fears, other times it seems completely random. Or maybe it's just that. Some are just unlucky, others attract it.

"I’m rather glad I don’t really drink coffee." - This answers the question if Jon meant it in MAG 163, when he said to Martin "I hate your tea and wish you made coffee instead". It was just to tease Martin in case he could still hear him.

"I decided to get somewhat more proactive and purchased a small motion-sensor camera, which I hid in view of the trapdoor. After a week, I reviewed the footage." - That was actually very clever, good job Jon!

"They appear to be a man, or at least male-presenting. Middle-aged or older judging from the frame, but hard to be sure. They emerge around three in the morning, holding what appears to be an attaché case. Then, they spend about half an hour rifling through archives, and retreat back down after stuffing a handful of files into the case." - Leitner living in the tunnels and sneaking around will never not be funny to me xD

"but what worries me is the manner they leave the trapdoor. Rather than picking the lock or forcing their way through, they seem to move the floor itself out of their way somehow, and replace it when they return." - That book is handy!

Reading this statement got me thinking that maybe Michael was also initially created as a result of sleep deprivation

Jonny started seeing blond curls and long fingers in his peripheral vision and decided to give them a personality

[ssawboness]

do tell about Percy and the ghost they are haunted by

GAH i'm so glad you asked!!!

tw/cw under the cut: cannibalism, murder, talk of paranoia and delusion, etc. it all reads as much edgier than i intend it to be, but i can assure you the rest of the universe that i've placed the two in is MUCH less serious than this.

for anyone that doesn't know, this is percy! they're nineteen years old and was a medical student throughout the years leading up to their untimely but ultimately deserved death. they're my tf2 medicsona, and most of the other characters involved with them are also mercsonas to some degree, besides (most of) team bastille. the floating thing depicted as coming out of the lettering is kenneth, kenny for short, their first victim and ex-roomie turned poltergeist.

i developed a week-long hyperfixation on cannibalism and its cons, alongside associated diseases, and in that dark period of my interests, the temporary stain on god's green earth that we now all know and love to be percy emerged from the depths.

to put things simply, percy is a cannibal. they're deeply delusional, stemming from severe trauma and other unnamed mental issues, and their incessant desire to consume humane flesh and organs alike stems from a paranoia harbored deep within their brain since early childhood: as human lives are so short and the last caches of australium were emptied out just before they were born, they've deluded themself into thinking that the only way to keep themselves going... is to consume human hearts.

their paranoia festered strongly in their later teenage years, as the stress of coming of age was getting to them, and dorm life in college was just as lonely as they'd expected it to be when they entered. much to their chagrin, they and their roommate didn't get along, only exchanging a few words every morning or asking where something went, effectively isolating them even further. this drove them to their breaking point, and they finally snapped, committing their first murder; the scar on their face, accompanied by permanent nerve damage and an even more permanent ghost roomie, was the result of a fierce struggle. it was thoroughly planned; had they been caught for it, they would have been charged for first degree murder in a polite open-and-shut case. however, they weren't, for... obvious plot armor reasons.

kenneth, having been diagnosed with creutzfeldt-jakob disease only a month before being murdered, could only laugh from the grave as percy consumed his brain and as a result contracted kuru.

following the canon chronological string of events, percy doesn't live long after the symptoms start showing. maybe they die in just a month, maybe it takes five years of haunting for the illness to finally begin to fester and take control of their brain. who knows? it's all convenient for comedic timing.

backstory aside, let's talk about kenneth and percy's dynamic. before that, however, i should mention that i cannot see them being in a romantic relationship, unhealthy or not, to any degree. if you want to interpret it that way, sure! but just know they have no romantic chemistry because they genuinely hate each other and also i am smiting you where you stand.

after showing my boyfriend the concept art i'd done of my scoutsona whilst at work, his immediate thought was that of a comparison between percy and benrey from hlvrai. he's not entirely wrong, but i only realized the similarities a moment too late, so it's too late to change it i suppose. this was also before i'd decided that all my mercsonas' character roles would be correlated to each other in one way or another, for, again, comedic effect.

kenneth was also kind of fucked up, but instead of dissecting animals and eating them, he just hung out with other guys and got stoned when he didn't have to attend a lecture. he never saw much point in life, being a by-the-books historical nihilist, so he sought to enjoy himself as much as he could before it came to a close, which was much sooner than he'd have expected it to be.

this being said, what would be his motivations for staying back on an earth that never treated him kindly instead of sleeping for all of eternity, or better yet, playing checkers with whatever god was in whatever afterlife he was destined to go to?

the answer? spite.

being a ghost and all that, bystanders can't see kenneth, so he strives to make percy look as utterly insane as possible in public: yanking his hair, loudly singing in his ear, or just generally being a nuisance. he floats around being a cunt all day, but once percy dies, he'll probably be left alone. maybe not the best choice for your all-of-eternity afterlife vacay, but he'll find a way to make it work.

thank you again for the ask! i'll expand on the rest of the less gritty aspects of the team bastille universe lore if prompted.

[percontaion-points]

Court chapters 56-59

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 56

This time when she leaves, none of us even tries to stop her.

Chapter 56 summary: The shop girl, introduced as Tess, says that they have to enter a competition to win the water of youth or the tears or whatever it’s called today. Tess seems mildly amused that Jikan failed to tell them this, but judging by how the others are reacting, none of them thought it was real, either. 

There’s a lot of hemming and hawing and teeth-grinding on Grace’s part before she asks for more details from Tess. The woman tells her that literally nobody has won yet. And the almost comically large number on her sports jersey is the number of people who’ve tried to win and failed. Hudson obviously doesn’t want her to do it, but Grace feels she has no choice. 

Chapter 57

As she pulls out her wand and begins the necessary steps to open a portal, I can’t help but notice she never agreed with me.

Chapter 57 summary: Macy suggests that they go to the vampire court to meet up with her mother. She also thinks that since the focus has always been on the children, that her father is being kept simply to contain the children. However, the vampire brothers are quick to call Macy out on her shit, and tell her that she doesn’t know what she’s walking into.

Finally, Jaxon gets a message from his vampire friends whom he sent to the court to do some recon work. They report back that Marise had been right: Cyrus is draining the children of their magic. The brothers say that their father has done stuff like this in the past, but none of it actually worked out for him. They guess he must have figured something out after the two of them left home, in order for him to try this again. 

Macy gets increasingly irate when the brothers tell her once again that they literally cannot go to the vampire court unless they’re suicidal. She tries to emotionally blackmail Grace by reminding her cousin of exactly what’s on the line here. But Grace decides that they need to retreat and think things through for now. Much to Macy’s dismay. 

Chapter 58

“We have an emergency,” Jaxon bites out. “They’re gone!”

Chapter 58 summary: Hudson wakes Grace up sometime later, and she thinks about how little sleep she’s been running on for the past several days. She goes to take care of bathroom needs before going back out. They then bang; excuse me if I don’t read this because the vaguely-worded sex scene adds nothing to the paper-thin plot. 

As they finish, Jaxon bursts in to say that a mysterious “they” are gone. 

Chapter 59

“Macy, Flint, and Mekhi portaled to the Vampire Court while you were…‘showering.’”

I can’t even pretend to be surprised over a group breaking away. All they’ve done is fight amongst each other since the start of this book. And then Macy’s behaviour was beyond shitty the day before. 

“As the gargoyle queen, you have every right to put your people first, Grace,” she continues. “And maybe that’s not what you’re doing. But I can see why Macy would feel differently. Can’t you?”

Honestly, I don’t. Macy is being stupid, especially after both Jaxon AND Hudson told her that running in right then would be a terrible idea. She doesn’t have a plan, and barely has three people behind her. ONE OF WHOM HAD HIS LEG RIPPED OFF NOT EVEN A WEEK EARLIER. 

And if that’s the case, I don’t have a clue how we’re supposed to get out of this alive.

Chapter 59 summary: As you can imagine, Grace and Hudson are too flustered over having been caught to focus on anything Jaxon is saying. He leaves them to get dressed, so Grace quickly throws on some clean clothes. 

Downstairs, the others tell them that Macy, Flint, and Hekhi left for the Vampire court a while ago. This needs to be discussed, but not one single person says that the three who left are being fucking stupid, so I don’t care. 

Eventually, it’s decided that they should go in near the servant’s quarters. Being a narcissist, Cyrus doesn’t pay attention to the help, and is seemingly unaware of where the servants even spend the night. 

Grace says that she can brush up against the green string to time-stop the guards as they make their way to the children. The others agree that as long as she doesn’t rip another hole in time, Jikan will not show up and yell at her again. 

[notquitecanon]

CAN WE HAVE A PART TWO FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY IT HAD ME SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT FOR AN HALF AN HOUR

Metaphorical Rescue Eggroll // Dr. Egon Spengler

This a part two of For Emergencies Only. It's angstier uglier more so unedited step sister that I wrote at 4 in the morning with no plot direction other than what my stream of consciousness spat out

CW: alc mentions, club atmosphere, making out, ment of sexual frustration

read pt1 here!

You despised these public outings Peter insisted on. Insisting that showing up to whatever clubs the tabloids wrote about that week would boost team morale and work as free advertisements. Insisting that the whole team had to go, a team bonding experience at least once a month. (You had a working theory that he realized he got more often recognized when seen with the other ghostbusters as opposed to going alone.)

You hated them even more when you felt like you were the only sober person in the room, not that Venkman hadn't tried to remedy that. Well, you weren't the only sober Ghostbuster (receptionist in your case) in attendance, Egon didn't drink- or at least never in the time you had known him. Even if a drink or two would make the pounding music and flashing lights more tolerable, you had dealt with the shrill phone ringing, alarm blaring, Ecto's sirens crooning, and customer's belligerent shouting plenty of times after a few too many the night before. It wasn't fun.

Still, at the moment, finding Egon in the crowd wasn't an option. Peter, with that glint in his eyes that told you he was up to something, had stolen Egon away early in the night, and had returned to your seat in a secluded corner booth to update you on the success of his little match. With each new drink in his hands the embellishments got raunchier, and yet they worked.

The largest part of the reason you wanted to go home was that your booth seat, alone in the corner as the buster's had a night out, had a perfect viewing of Peter's handiwork. Egon was sitting at the bar, a glass of water half empty beside him, his large frame absolutely dwarfed the little Swedish-minimalist barstools that accented the bar. That wasn't why you were irritated, no, it was the pretty little thing in Vogue's latest style that had draped herself across your the good doctor. She was pulling out all the stops and, to her credit, if you weren't so jealous you'd be impressed.

The way her long legs draped perfectly over his lap and crossed at her ankles, disadvantaging her balance just enough that Egon had placed a large hand on her waist and one on her leg to keep her steady. The fluttering eyelashes and doe eyes, the giggling and hair twirling, all obvious posturing. You were surprised Peter had passed her off to Egon and not kept her to himself.

Still, Egon had pulled his stone face, you couldn't tell how he felt about this- other than he had wanted to skip the night all together. On one hand, he was touching her more than he did most- whether or not it was simply a balancing act. On the other, despite being out of earshot, you could tell he was bored in conversation.

Maybe it was the fact you couldn't tell that pissed you off so much. Maybe it was the fact that you wanted to be the one draped over Egon Spengler's lap.

You sighed, finger tracing the lip of the cosmopolitan Winston had put in front of you with a sympathetic look, after all it had only been a week and a half since Egon had quite literally swept you off your feet. The silver screen worthy kiss had consumed many of your waking thoughts, and all of your nonwaking ones. Hell, it took a full 48 hours to be able to look at Egon without going crimson. Another 48 to be able to talk to him again without babbling. What had been an innocent crush had turned into a not so innocent infatuation.

And yet, Egon hadn't mentioned it other than asking once if your neighbor had bothered you again. (He hadn't, not so much as looking at you, or even in your direction in the mail room). Other than that, the scientist had gone back to his previous routine. More accurately, he lessened his contact with you. Putting his do not disturb sign on the lab when you were free to help him, asking Janine for clerical assistance instead of you, not having his morning coffee or evening takeout with you...

A jab of rejection threatened streak through you, but you had tempered it all week. It had been an act after all, he wasn't actually your boyfriend, and he was probably avoiding you because you were the one who made it weird- the PDA had probably been a bit much for him and he needed space. Or at least that's what you had assured yourself.

But watching the woman moon over Egon and him let her, not once moving away or asking her to either. That chipped away at your theory, a nagging sense of doubt whispering in your ear- maybe It was just you he didn't want. Still, you were a glutton for punishment so you didn't go home or even take up Ray's offer to dance, you sat and pretended not to care, or at least tried to.

"He looks uncomfortable." Ray had followed your rather pathetic gaze as he slid into the booth slightly breathless and sweaty. You narrowed your eyes as if that would pick up what Ray was seeing, you didn't see anything out of the ordinary- well more so than Egon openly holding and flirting with a woman in a club. Seeing your disbelief, Ray nodded downwards, "I've know Eegs a looong time. Look at his foot, see, he's wiggling it. Only does it when he's anxious."

You frowned, you didn't want him to be anxious. You never wanted him to be anxious. And while you had never noticed this nervous habit of his, it made sense. Egon was a rather still person, the jittery movement was out of character for sure.

Ray watched you watch Egon, eyeing you with a measured sense of scientific observation. He hadn't liked this plan of Peter's, seemed a bit on the manipulative side, too many ways things could go wrong among his friends. He didn't like seeing Egon uncomfortable or you upset, no matter the end result. And just as he expected, your jealousy had manifested in a quieter, more internalized way.

"Looks like he could use saving," Ray stated 'innocently' after a moment, "Gives you a chance to return the favor."

You picked at the hem of your sleeve, part of your favorite outfit- hand picked by Janine to impress Egon, "I don't know, like he said, we're adults, if he's disinterested he'll tell her so."

You had repeated the words Egon had said to you as an excuse before plopping your chin into your palm, "Besides, I don't want to make him anymore uncomfortable than I already did."

Ray didn't say anything else only pouting a bit as you sighed, waiting a beat before grabbing your coat. "I think I'm heading home for the night. Make sure Peter takes an Advil- you have a free repeater with an affinity for bagpipes first thing in the morning" You informed him, laughing a bit at his pained expression before pressing a platonic kiss to his cheek, "Goodnight, Ray."

"Night, (Y/N). Get home safe." Ray was still pouting as you moved towards the exit. Still, what Stantz said stuck with you as you pushed through the crowd. What if Egon was uncomfortable- you knew yourself how hard it was to brush off someone's unwanted advances...

You resolved to walk by ~subtly~ and if he gave you a sign or seemed to need saving you would do so. Offer him an out if he wanted on. If not you would simply wave goodbye and go wallow in self pity at home.

As you breezed past the bar, you kept your eyes forward as you passed them before casting a meaningful stare over your shoulder. To your surprise, Egon's eyes were already at yours and for the first time that night you could read his emotions on his face- first concern at your departure, then the confusion that you didn't quite understand, a flash of frustration and then regret that finally evened out into resignated realization. Whatever he had realized must have turned him off of the woman in his lap.

You watched in confusion as he gently, yet firmly, set girl on her feet, halting her when she tried to close the distance again. Her face was to you, but you could imagine the pout by how her head cocked. She was saying something, first Egon tried to explain something calmly. It obviously didn't work as the woman's demeanor changed from demure and seductive to hostile as her posture straightening. Egon held his hands up, trying to placate her- your lip reading wasn't quite to par but you caught an apology and an 'I didn't know that's what he intended'. That also apparently didn't work as the woman pointed a finger into Egon's chest; then it came, the sign.

Egon's bespectacled eyes flicked to yours, wide and pleading. The same look he gave you when customers were overly emotional, Janine was snappy, or Winston would steal the last prized egg roll and yours still sat untouched on your plate. You always gave him the egg roll, and this was no different.

He needed the egg roll, in this metaphor your egg roll being your help.

You sauntered right past the woman, ignoring her complaints- "Who do you think you are wasting my time all night?!"- as you smiled sugary, syrupy sweet.

"There you are, honey, thought I might find you here." Your acting was perhaps a bit over the top compared to Egon's when he did this for you, but you stuck to your bit, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before wrapping your arm up and around his back, snaking up to his hair. On the low bar stool, at this angle, Egon had to look up at you as you smiled lovingly down at him. You decided this new angle was lovely, his pretty face looking up at you gratefully and slightly awestruck at your new attitude. Gently, you scooted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose before winking.

Finally, as your finger's delicately twirled Egon's curls, the ones right above his ears that if you were looking had gone scarlet at the light touch, you turned towards the woman with a fake smile, "Egon, love, who is this?"

The girl looked confused, her night had turned sour, "Better question, who are you?"

"The girlfriend." You answered nonchalantly, maneuvering so you could lean backwards between Egon's long legs, half sitting in his lap as your back curved into his chest. For both of your balance, he had to wrap both his arms around your stomach, holding you close. You had moved you arm so you were lackadaisically reaching towards his hair, running gentle fingers through what you could reach.

"You're the girlfriend? She's your girlfriend?" The woman, with her chique electric eye makeup and perfectly teased hair, was in disbelief before she snapped her mouth shut again, squaring her shoulders, "Then you should know- I was all over him all night and he didn't say a word."

She had you there, you faltered going still as you pulled your hand away. She smirked as though she had caught you. In your floundering to keep the lie, you didn't notice Egon try to follow the touch after it left.

What would Peter say, you thought quickly-

"Of course, just a little game we play when we go out. Saw it in Vice, really spices things up." You shrugged, when it doubt Peter makes people a little uncomfortable so they stop asking questions. The woman seem disgusted, then interested, and then back to revulsion as she shook her head. Still, she eyed the two of you, unconvinced, and you were ready to leave so you pulled the card you were hoping to save.

You pulled Egon's face down towards you, turning your lips up and towards him as he bent around you catch your lips, eyes fluttering closed. This time the ball was in your court, you led the pace and the tone. You kept the kiss itself languid, familiar, not breaking as you turned around, fulling standing between his knees yet face to face and for once at the same height.

After a split second of hesitation, you allowed your hands to wander a bit. First they left where they had rested on his cheeks to ran through the fluffiest part of his hair, tugging slightly on the longest bits causing the scientist to tip his head back and open his mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen. As your nails left a trail across his scalp, he let something akin to a groan escape- not audible to the rest of the club yet a dissonant vibration that sent a hum all the way too your toes. After mussing his hair, you simply locked your arms around his neck. Egon had kept one hand on your waist while the other had snaked up your back-under your coat. A spectacle befitting a club scene.

While the kiss you initiated didn't knock the wind out of you (as mush) the zoo that Egon had invited to your stomach had still gone into a stampede when the scientist had groaned, threatening an insurrection when he broke the kiss for only a second, resting his cheek against yours only to catch his breath before catching your mouth again.

He had allowed you a moment of control, something he didn't bestow to most. But now he was back in control, holding you by the waist, nose bumping yours, glasses fogging up and becoming askew- neither of you cared. This time he didn't stop when your knees went weak, simply letting you fall into him as his hand drifted lower, long, efficient fingers drawing straight line down your hip to your thigh before drawing back---

"You two know she's gone right." A chiding voice interrupted. Egon pulled back, yet still held you firm as the two of you looked up to find Peter smirking down at you. "Left before there was tongues involved actually."

You scrambled off the scientist on shaky legs, using the deep wood bar to steady yourself, "Well, Egon looked like he needed an out."

"Oh, you gave him an out alright, knocked it right out of the park. Didn't know you had it in ya, (L/N)?" Venkman teased as you looked anywhere but your coworkers (formally your bosses if they had ever cared about formalities, but you had just thrown formalities off the Empire State Building). You wanted to melt into the ground- or for Peter to leave and Egon to finish what he had started.

"Enough, Venkman." Egon warned, giving you a tentative once over. Unable to resit the curiosity, he gently took your wrist, pressing a finger to the delicate skin of your pulse point. He counted for a moment before mentally logging his findings- ratioed for size difference pulse is as erratic as his, interesting- before pushing his half empty glass of water towards you, prolonged elevated heart rates weren't healthy after all. You took it, gulping it down before shoving yourself into your coat again.

Mission was a success and now I can go home, I helped my friend, Egon, given my metaphorical prize egg roll and that's that.

"I should-" You stopped and restarted, smoothing the hair around your face, and hoping the water had tempered your kiss swollen lips (it hadn't), "I'm gonna head home, goodnight Peter... Egon."

You gave one last look to Egon, a sincere one that he would spend the rest of the night attempting to decode, before turning on your heel disappearing behind a bachelorette party group before Egon could catch your wrist. By the time he had squeezed through them, you were gone.

Meanwhile, you had stepped into the busy night streets of NYC, and immediately hailed a cab. You face was still flush with the kiss and you could smell that earthy-smoky Egon scent on your own coat collar, leaving you riding home with an entire new kind of frustration.

One almost more embarrassing than creepy neighbors and club jealousy.

--

did I edit this? no

did I set up for a part three if you guys want a conflict resolution? yes

Guess what i wrote part three

[hobisstar]

no more running | dark!bruce wayne x reader

Summary: Y/N was tired of being trapped in the Wayne Manor, Bruce says its for her safety. Was he protecting her or just keeping her to himself?

Warning: Mention of murder, harmful doing, possessiveness, obsession, Evil Bruce Wayne, and Melatonin pills.

A/N: Okay, basically im an DC and Marvel fan also! Ive been reading Batman/Bruce Wayne fics for the past 2 days now and decided to make one. I watched The Batman movie last night and I LITERALLY BECAME MORE IN LOVE. I know Batman is more so like a natural hero so hes like A hero but does villain like things. So i thought what if he was just like Dark all around MORE than usually? This is my first one so thoughts from you guys will be highly needed. Its a one shot so its gonna be a little short! Enjoy!

“Y/N!” Bruce yelled following her through the Wayne Manor. “Look at me when im talking to you!”

“No! Because im sick and tired of you acting like you control me Bruce Wayne, when you in fact do not. What exactly are protecting me of when you are the most Dangerous man in the room right now!” She walked into their shared bedroom or so.

They’ve been bumping heads recently, a lot to to be honest.

He hasn’t been the nicest and to be honest he doesn’t regret it.

The crime rate in Gotham had gotten higher and even the day light was dangerous to be out in.

But last week, something changed in Bruce. Maybe it was the intruders he killed with his bare hands and had Alfred dispose of the bodies.

It was for her protection, they deserved the beating.

“You killed those intruders Bruce... You promised me you’d never kill, ever. To me being out in the city is safer than being in a shared room with someone who’s not even a hero but the same as those people out there.”

Bruce knew his temper, and oh was it rising as the more she badmouths him and compared him to those people.

“I was protecting you. You are fragile and can get hurt. I'm not letting you get hurt because of who I am or what I've done outside the manor. Yes, I've killed two men that dared step into our home. How was I supposed to know that they were just after me? They could’ve spotted you and harmed you.” He stepped closer to Y/N grabbing the so called 'bag' she was trying to pack.

“I told you if something were the happen outside you aren’t allowed to leave the manor. I meant that with every inch of light I have left. “

“You can’t keep me in here Bruce-“

“No I can. And I will. Its not safe out there. Hate me. Dislike me. Want me dead. Do whatever you please but you aren’t leaving this home.”

Y/N huffed and walked out the room.

“Ill get out one way or another.” She thought in her head.

5 hours later

It was about 9pm. Bruce- I'm sorry The Bat was out around this time and for sure wouldn’t be back till 4 am.

“Ms. Y/N are you sure we should be breaking Bruce’s orders like this? What such a hassle to just get outside.” said one of the maids.

Since the morning after the argument ,Y/N has been plotting in her head a few escape routes.

Of course the main ones or either locked or emergency usable only.

She huffed and grabbed the backpack. “Yeah well, I really have other business to attend to outside of this Manor. If Bruce comes back tell him, I'm in bed. He usually won't bother if I'm sleeping. I should be back at 3 am. Call me if he calls Alfred saying Hes on his way back. I'll use the front door to get in. See Ya” Y/N said and ran to the bat cave using the only exit she knew would be open.

She was leaving because her mother called her and said that it was urgent. Her father had been mugged and wasn’t doing the best and she needed to see him if the time was to come if he was laid to rest.

Dealing with Bruce was enough in her plate, but shed do anything to see her family for the last time.

She took his bike and speed off…

At Y/Ns parents house

“Oh my! Y/N dear i thought you said Bruce had the place on lock down?” Her mother said raising her eyebrows.

“He does but I told one of the maids to call me if he gets home before I do. Im willing to risk anything to see my family ma.” Y/N half smiled and looked around.

“Where’s dad?”

“Back here honey!” She heard her dad shout.

“Turns out he just had some bruises and sprained his ankle. Hes fine but because of his old age, it was worst than that.” Mother said.

“Gosh ive been away so long I forgot you are a doctor.” She chuckled and walked to the room.

“Papa!” Y/N said and ran to him.

“Wow you’ve grown my girl. I can’t believe you are even here right now. This city is a mess and I know Bruce would never let you out with the way the crime rate has sprung up.” He chuckled then looked at her.

“He doesn’t know im here… I promise I’ll be back-“

“You need to get going my girl! You know the city shuts down at 12 am now! There is no reason for him to be out so late.”

“WHAT?!-“

As if it was a que Y/Ns phone rung in pocket.

She picked it up with no hesitation. “yes?”

“Y/N! Mr. Wayne is 20 minutes away! Please hurry back!”

At the Wayne Manor

…

“She’s not home yet!”

“OH MY GOSH”

“We need to make it look like she was here for hours!”

“What if he notices that she wasn’t here?”

“Cave has been opened..”

After are the commotion it settled down when that alert went off.

Was it Y/N?

Was it Bruce?

They were scared shitless. Scared that all hell would break when he gets up here and there is no y/n.

The handle turned and the door opened.

They all released a sigh of relief.

“I made it back in time!” Y/N smiled a little out of breathe.

“Oh gosh Ms. Y/N you had us all covered in fear. Hurry along now he should he arriving shortly.”

She nodded and ran up the stairs to their shared room.

She sighed happily as she sat on the bed. Being out was funny for the little time she could be out.

Seeing her dad being healthy and her mother also doing the same made her so happy.

“Maybe I should start sneaking out more often.” She said out loud since she thought she was alone.

“No. Because I could’ve sworn I made clear instructions that you stay in the Manor.” Bruce said from the chair in the darkness that filled the room.

She jumped up and turned on the lamp looking at him. “W-When did you get home?”

“Y/N I never left. Because I knew you would try to leave so i planned to stay in tonight and watch over you. Alfred told me what you had said to the maids.” He stood up going to sit on the bed.

“Bruce i just wanted to see my mom and dad-“

“Does it matter?! You could’ve gotten hurt!” He yelled looking at her with pure darkness in his eyes.

She jumped back from his booming voice, slightly cowering away but stood her ground.

“But I wasn’t! I told you you dont own me! If I want to leave I should damn well be able to leave!”

He slightly chuckled and that smile soon went away with it. He stood up and just walked out not saying anything.

She signed and fell to her knees surprised she even said everything without once stuttering.

“I need a bath officially” she said and went I the bathroom and closed the door.

In the kitchen

(Warning ⚠️: this part is were the Melatonin will be used. It will be taken with tea for a better nights sleep. You may continue reading at you’re own risk:).)

“You are being to harsh on her Bruce.” Alfred said.

Bruce sighed. “Im not. She got hurt once while being out and I never forgave myself for it.”

“That was 2 years go, Sir. She’s more matured. You trained her to fight and protect herself, yet you have her locked away like she’s Rapunzel.”

“That doesnt matter! She needs to be in the manor Alfred. I rather she be locked up here in safety then locked up some where I CANT find.”

Alfred sighed. “Whatever you say. Here’s the madams tea and melatonin as usually.”

“Thanks.”

Bruce grabbed the tea and pill and walked up stairs to their shared bed room. Usually around this time shed Be in the bathroom getting ready for bed so he went with his gut and opened the bathroom door.

She was relaxing in the tub and sat on the side of it watching her not saying a word.

Gosh, how he just wanted to protect her. So what if he was being protective or possessive I mean he wanted the best for her.

Staying in the house was only for now when the curfew on the city was just on.

“Im telling Alfred to put the manor on lockdown. The maids will be going home tonight.” He said still looking at her no emotion in his eyes.

She looked up at him. “You-You can’t do that!”

He put the tea on the counter with the pills.

“You are not to leave the manor until the curfew on the city is lifted. You will stay in the manor every day and every night. You got hurt once because of me. And that was my fault. I love you to much to see you get hurt again because of my lack of protection. This is most I can do to protect you and Alfred. You two are my World and im not loosing either of you. I will never allow it.” He stood up and walked out.

Maybe one day, She will see that his protection is all he can bring. He loves her and will never let her get hurt EVER AGAIN.

Bruce went down the his cave and just started writing away about a few things for the city but it soon turned Into

Never let her out Never let her out Never let her out

Never let her out Never let her out Never let her out

Never let her out Never let her out Never let her out

Never let her out Never let her out

Never

Let

Her

Out

Has he perhaps gone mad?

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.4

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

“Deep into that darkness, peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared dream before”

— Edgar Allan Poe

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. I checked the results of her scans and there seems to be no broken bones. But she did hit her head hard so I would suggest she take a rest for a couple of days."

The voices dipped in and out of your swimming consciousness like broken records. There were words that you caught and tried to grasp, but you couldn't quite make out what they mean while you struggled to emerge from your half asleep state. A searing pain ran down the left side of your head and you winced, before a particularly harsh throbbing there finally sent your eyes flying open.

The first thing you saw were the red velvet drapes hanging from the middle of what looked like the ceiling of a four poster. You frowned at it, not quite understanding what exactly it is you were looking at, when another painful throb on your temple had your hand flying towards it.

You were too focused on trying to grit back the pain that you missed the hurried rustling from beside your bed. When your vision finally focused again, you saw five heads peer at you wearing identical worried expressions.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Taeyong asked softly, concern written all over his face. He raised his hand slowly to reach out to you, but then something snapped deep down in your consciousness that sent you bolting up into a sitting position, your feet scrambling against the mattress until your back hit the headboard. Your eyes jumped from one face to the next, heart thudding harshly against your chest.

Taeyong's expression shifted from that of shock into pain at your reaction. He didn't make any other move, his gaze briefly moving instead to the person standing beside the head of your bed.

"Taeil-hyung…"

You felt a gentle hand rest on your shoulders then. For the first time, you noticed the man in a white jacket leaning towards you. He looked unfamiliar, but there was something about him that calmed you down. He peered closer into you now, brown eyes quickly scanning your features.

"Shh… everything's okay. How are you feeling?"

His soft voice slowed your heartbeat down a little. You tried to give him an answer, wincing at the scratchiness of your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor. Do you know where you are right now?"

Your gaze moved from him, then back to the others who are still standing on the fringes of your bed. Now that you are much calmer, you could finally properly recognize the rest of the group in the room. Taeyong sat closest to you while Haechan and Renjun hovered by the foot of the bed wearing identical frowns. Jaemin stood by the other side, his hand wrapped around Jisung's shoulders loosely. The youngest boy looked on to you, eyes rimmed with red.

You slowly nodded after swallowing the dryness in your mouth.

"The… manor…"

You visibly saw the rest of the group give a collective sigh of relief. Taeil moved to sit beside you and gently moved your face to him to quickly check your eyes with his pen light.

"She's still a little bit confused from the fall. She does look okay though," he said and you figured he was talking to the others instead of you. You frowned as you felt him take your wrist to check your pulse.

"I… fell?"

His brown eyes glanced at you briefly.

"You did. You don't remember anything?"

Before you could even respond, you heard Taeyong gently speak from your side.

"You fell on a ravine. We heard Jisung crying when we came back and came looking for you guys as fast as we could. You were unconscious when we found you…"

You let his words sink in slowly. Little by little, your memories came slipping back like little puzzle pieces that arranged themselves slowly in the back of your mind.

You remember Chenle's screams, you running into the forest, and then the feeling of falling into nothingness. Your hands balled over the blanket covering you as your head throbbed again.

"I'm so sorry, noona," your attention moved to Jisung who leaned just a little bit closer to you. He looked like he had been crying. "Chenle and I took our playing too far. We didn't think that this would happen…" he trailed off and you saw Jaemin try to soothe him by rubbing his arm.

"Where's Chenle…? Is he alright?" You asked, remembering that the boy was calling for help before your own accident.

"Yes. He's still unconscious from the anesthesia. He broke his leg from his fall but we were able to rush him to the clinic with you," Taeyong answered again.

"Is your head hurting? We had to make a couple of stitches on you, but your scans turned out fine," the doctor, who you figured out is named Taeil, asked again. Your hand raised once more to the side of your head and noticed the bandages there for the first time. One side of your skull alternated from throbbing dully to stinging sharply.

"Um...it hurts a little bit."

Taeil simply nodded and grabbed his pen to write something on the file he was holding. "That's normal. I thought you would have some short-term memory loss so it's good that you're only dealing with pain. I'll prescribe you painkillers for it."

You listened silently to what he was saying, only half understanding the context of his words. You still felt confused… like there was something you are missing.

As if he read your mind, Taeil glanced up at you again.

"Feeling confused is normal since you hit your head. You should also expect some intense headaches for a couple of weeks, maybe even some mild hallucinations. We'll try to control that with the medicine I'll give you but we're not sure how your body will react to them so just prepare yourself for the possibility, okay?"

You numbly nodded as you watched him finish scribbling something on a smaller piece of paper.

"Other than that, you don't need to be admitted to the hospital. But feel free to come back when you don't feel better after two weeks. You do have someone at home to watch over you, right?"

That made you stop, remembering that you would be alone for a couple of days. Taeil patiently waited for your answer, hand still hovering over his files.

"I… uh… I'm alone for three days but my boyfriend will be back after that…'' you finally managed to say. He frowned slightly at your answer.

"You don't have any relatives who can watch over you?"

You shook your head.

"You can stay here with us," you heard someone say and you looked over to Renjun who was still watching you with a worried expression on his face. "At least until you have someone with you at home."

The rest of the group seemed to have been taken by surprise by his suggestion as much as you were. The boy simply looked at his brothers in answer, however, a frown settling between his brows.

"It's the least we could do, right? Technically, it is our fault. And she got in an accident while at work. We can't just leave her on her own."

Taeil looked from the group, then at you. "That's not a bad idea… you do need to be under observation at least for a couple of days."

You honestly didn't know what to answer. Something told you to say no to the offer, but another part of you simply didn't have the energy to argue with the proposition. Before you could even give a reply, Jisung untangled himself from Jaemin to hold your hand. When you looked at him, he seemed on the verge of tears again.

"Please, noona? Can I make it up to you?"

You watched him, torn by the expression on his face. Finally, you gave a sigh.

"Okay… but I do need to tell my boyfriend that I'll stay over. And I don't really have anything with me…"

"You can borrow our mom's wardrobe. I think you are about the same size," Haechan offered. "Then we can just buy your other things."

You didn't know what to feel about that but nodded at the suggestion, at least for now. With the decision finalized, Taeil finally turned to Taeyong and handed him the paper he had been writing on.

"Here’s her prescription then. I have bottles of the painkillers with me but you might need to drive back to town for the sleeping pills," he said as he turned towards the older boy. "She might need it in case she gets trouble sleeping."

Taeyong nodded as his eyes quickly scanned the paper handed over to him. "About Chenle, do I also need to get him something?"

"We can talk about that separately. How about we go check him now? He must be up around this time, too."

The older boy threw you a glance and a parting apologetic smile before following Taeil who had already picked up his bag and started heading towards the door. Beside you, Jisung quickly let go of your hand to follow the doctor.

"Taeyong-hyung, I'll go with you. Noona, I'll be back later."

You watched silently as the group left and closed the door softly behind them. You still felt a little out of it that you didn't really give notice to the three boys left inside your room until you felt your mattress dip a little. A finger to your chin broke you from your reverie, and when you turned to your side, you saw Jaemin peering at you closely.

"Does it still hurt, noona?"

You blinked at his closeness, but you still felt too weak to even panic or move away. So instead, you simply nodded, goosebumps rising on your flesh as he moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm sorry… now your pretty face is all scratched up, too. I don't think they'll leave marks though… so we don't have to worry about that, hmm…?" His eyes roamed your features slowly and deliberately. You swallowed and finally moved away for a bit.

"Do you remember what happened? Did you slip?"

Renjun's question was the distraction you were looking for. Turning to him, you gave yourself some time to process an answer,  slowly shifting through the memories that were still painful and hazy for you to fully grasp. Still, you tried to recall what you could manage, your confusion only growing as you shifted through the bits and pieces of what you could remember.

There were a few things that didn't make sense to you and a few that you were also sure to be true, the most glaring one being the impossibility of you slipping down that cliff. No, you didn’t lose your footing. 

You were pushed. 

"No… I didn't. Something… something hit me," you finally managed to mumble. The three boys looked at each other, mild confusion in their expressions.

"Hit you? Like an animal?" Haechan asked with a concerned tone. You slightly shook your head as you thought over that possibility as well.

The thing is… you were sure there were no other people in the woods because everyone was accounted for when the accident happened. Taeyong and the kids weren't back yet from their trip and you were sure Jisung and Chenle were in another part of the forest since you heard them call out to you. Jeno is the only one left… but the chances of him being in the woods with you were also slim because of his injury. So that only leaves two possibilities—one, being a wild animal as the culprit behind your fall, or two, that someone else who isn't part of Rosewood manor was there with you in the woods.

Personally, you desperately wanted the first one to be true, but a gnawing feeling inside of you told you no. Your head might still feel a little hazy, but there's one thing you can be sure of.

The force that sent you hurtling down the cliff? That was no animal.

They were human hands.

"Might be… an animal," you whispered more to yourself than to address the boys in the room after a while. You didn't know what pushed you to lie through your teeth, but your gut feeling told you it is the right thing to do at the moment.

Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exchanged worried glances amongst themselves, obviously not buying what you just said. Fortunately, they didn't seem to push it for now.

"Well...we'll leave you alone tonight so you can rest. Haechan and I will try to look for clothes that could fit you so you can get changed. If you need anything, you can just press 0 on that intercom. It connects you to Taeyong-hyung," Renjun explained gently and pointed towards a small machine on the wall beside your bed. You nodded and gathered the blankets closer to you.

"We'll go now. Rest well, noona," Haechan said as he turned towards the door. Renjun followed after giving you another apologetic smile.

You waited for Jaemin to finally pick himself up from your bed as well before allowing yourself to relax. Silently, you moved your gaze towards him, only to be met by his smile. It was strange… how even though he looked so kind and gentle, the way he stared at you still sent chills running down your spine.

"Don't worry. We'll make it up to you. We'll take care of you really well…"

----- "I can drive back tonight and pick you up early tomorrow," Jaehyun said over the phone, his voice barely concealing his worry and agitation. You gnawed on your lower lip as you stared at the view outside of your room, the night sky looking foreboding without any presence of stars. You have managed to prop yourself up against the seat in front of your window out of your sheer desperation to temporarily escape the bed. It is quite ironic, maybe even strange, how you feel claustrophobic inside despite the expansive space of your quarters.

"It's fine, Jae. I'm doing much better now," you finally managed to say as you forced yourself to look away from the view of the forest beyond. Just looking at it gave you chills even though you know you should feel safe in the confines of the manor now.

"Baby, you have stitches on your head," Jaehyun tried to say that evenly, though you know just how much he is panicking right now. For a stranger, your fiance can easily pass off as unbothered and calm most of the time, but you know him enough to read him like an open book. To be honest though... you can't really blame him for how he is reacting right now.

"Yes, but I'm feeling fine now. I don't really want you to drive back this late…and besides, your workshop just started. It's only for three days anyway,” you tried to reason out, though another part of you desperately wants him by your side at the moment. You tried your best to fight it off, however, knowing how important this business trip is for him. “I think it’s okay if I stay here temporarily while I wait for you,” you added, trying your best to sound convincing. 

Jaehyun was silent at the other end of the line and you patiently waited for him to speak again, knowing full well that he is just looking for another possible compromise to the situation. Finally, he sighed. 

"Are you sure you are safe there though?" He asked quietly after a while. His question made you stop for a little bit, your eyes moving towards the view of the woods from your window again.

"...yes. I have a very private room right now so I can rest well," you answered as you tore your eyes away from it and forced yourself to look at the interiors of your quarters instead. Studying it now, it looks a lot like the layout of Jeno's room so you figured you must be in the same hallway.

"That's not what I mean," Jaehyun said, and you already know what he is going to say next. "What I mean is, are you sure you can trust the people there?"

It took you a few seconds to answer that. You would be lying to yourself if you say you don't feel strange and jumpy right now, but at the same time, you also feel a little guilty for harboring such emotions when the family was nice enough to offer you temporary space and care. Sure, your accident still remains a mystery, but it’s not like you can assume that anyone wanted it to happen, especially since Chenle also ended up injured. It’s because of that reason that you simply swallowed back your nerves, chalking up your odd feelings as after effects for your fall.  

"Yes, of course. They haven't really bothered me that much. I don't think we should worry about it…"

Jaehyun's silence said that he wasn't entirely convinced. It took a moment for him to finally give a resigned gust of breath.

"Fine. Keep yourself safe, okay? I will call you back again tomorrow morning. Make sure you rest tonight."

"Okay...Don't worry about me too much," you said, smiling even though you know he couldn’t see you right now.

"I will still try and see if I can cut my trip shorter, alright?"

You chuckled. There it is, the compromise.

"Okay…"

"I love you. Stay safe."

"I will… Love you too."

"Oh, and honey?" You were about to cut the call when his voice stopped you again. You pressed the phone closer to your ear once more, waiting for his last words.

"Lock the door."

Your eyes flew towards the dark oak door at the other end of the room at his words.

"Okay, I will. Goodnight, baby."

You let out a tired sigh when you finally finished the call. Maybe Jaehyun was right… Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he could cut his trip and go home earlier than planned. For now though, you don't have any other choice but at least spend the first night here to recover a little more. Your wound has honestly started stinging again, maybe because the effect of the first painkillers are finally starting to wear off.

You gave one long look around your quarters before throwing your phone on the wide four poster bed. When your gaze landed on the door once more, you heard Jaehyun's reminder echoing in your mind again.

Slowly, you walked towards it, feet padding over the lush rug that covered the whole floor of the room. You noticed that there was a double lock system installed on it at least—a knob one, and a bolt-type that can be maneuvered from the inside. You gave an internal sigh of relief when you took notice of the latter, knowing that you have at least a level of protection even from those who have keys to the house. You have started to reach out to fix both locks when the door swung open all of a sudden, causing you to stumble back a little in shock.

Haechan looked back at you with the same look of surprise on his face at the threshold. For a while the two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

"Ah, I'm sorry, noona. I forgot to knock. I'm not really used to having guests here," he smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. His apologetic chuckles finally made you unfreeze from your spot.

"Tha-that's fine. I was just surprised. Why… are you here?"

"Oh, I just have to give you this," he extended his hands over to you, and for the first time, you noticed the folded garment that he was holding. You gingerly took it, feeling the softness of silk brushing your fingers.

"Renjun and I tried to look for an old night gown of our mom's that would fit you. It is a little bit old fashioned but it's clean and still holds up together so I think that would work, at least for now."

At his words, you took a closer look at the dress on your hands before unfurling it to its full length. He was right, it does look a little dated with its long sleeves, laced collar, and embroidered hem that would probably fall mid-leg on you, but the size looks just enough for your frame. You looked up at Haechan again with a smile.

"Thank you. I think this will work… But, are you sure it is okay for me to borrow it?" You asked hesitantly, eyes falling briefly again on the dress. After all, you do know the story behind their parents, and there are some people who can get a little sensitive about the possessions of their passed on loved ones. The least you could do is to bring up the question. 

Haechan, however, looked the least bit bothered. You didn't catch it because you were studying the lacework on one of the cuffs under the light, but one end of his lips curled up into a smirk as his hooded gaze moved to study the dress on your hands before grazing your form from head to toe.

"No. We don't mind. It's the only female clothing that we can offer for now, unless you want to borrow one of our clothes~?"

That immediately made your eyes snap back to him. His words were innocent, but the way his voice curled made your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

"No, that's not what I meant—"

The embarrassment on your face must have looked too obvious because the boy suddenly burst out laughing, his giggles sounding like a lilting tune as it floated down the hallway. You've always noticed how beautiful his voice is, but it is only now that you realized how calming it is to the ears, despite your current flustered state.

"Yah, I'm kidding, noona. I was just trying to make you feel better," he said after his laughter calmed down. You tried to give him an apologetic smile and looked down on the dress in your hands, your fingers unconsciously finding comfort from the smoothness of the silk. Haechan drank your expression silently with his eyes in the brief moment that you were distracted. You have always had this independent and confident air around you normally, but you have a more subdued nature now, probably because you are hurt.

He studied you silently as a thought formed in his mind. He may like the way you carry yourself on an everyday basis, but the way you are now? 

He loves it. 

"Besides… I think you'll look pretty on it," he said softly, voice sounding like whispers on skin. You looked up to see him smiling at you fondly, as if he is remembering a distant memory.

You cleared your throat before nodding. "Thank you. I'll change to this tonight. Please say thanks to Renjun as well."

Haechan gave you his signature smile and clasped his hands behind his back.

"No problem. We'll check on you tomorrow again. Goodnight, noona."

You were about to close the door when you suddenly stopped halfway as you remembered something.

"Oh, sorry. Another thing."

The boy turned back to you to give you a questioning look. You smiled at him apologetically.

"Can I ask to have some of my medications? I don't know who has it but I think Taeyong was handed my prescription. It's just that, my head is hurting again so I’d like to take some before going to sleep…"

Haechan's brows raised slightly at the realization.

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung hasn't visited you yet then? Ah… I think it's because he is still busy with Chenle. I can get them for you, noona."

"Will that be okay? Really sorry for asking this."

"Stop apologizing, it's fine," he winked and you managed to return it with a grateful smile. "I'll look for Taeyong-hyung and bring you your meds. Maybe you can get changed for now."

"Thank you, Haechan."

"I'll be back," he nodded before turning on his heels again, a spring on his step. 

------- "Shhh… sweetie, don't cry. You know I don't like it when you do that, right?"

A woman bent over a boy not older than seven who was currently cowering against the shadowed corner of the room. The space didn't have any lights on, but the sliver of moonlight that passed between the small crack of curtains shone on the tear-streaked face of the child. The female in front of him gently reached out for his face, cradling his cheeks lovingly between long, slender fingers.

"Look at you, you look like a mess now… stop crying, okay?" Her voice was soft and angelic when she spoke, enough to calm down the sobs wrecking the thin frame of the child before her. The boy gave a small nod which made her smile, her dainty features glowing with happiness.

"Very good. Now… you do know we have to go through this, right? You've been a bad boy so you leave me with no other choice."

The child froze in fear but softened his stance after a few heartbeats. He mumbled softly, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking.

"Yes… mother."

The woman's expression remained somber, as if she was in pain. She gently moved her hand to run her thumb over the boy's cheek, wetting her sharp fingernail with his tears.

"You do know that even if it will hurt, mother still loves you a lot, right? Mama is doing this because she cares for you a lot and she wants you to be good... my sunshine... my precious, precious boy…"

Her soothing voice mixed with her words made the boy stop crying entirely. Instead, his eyes shone with pure adoration for her.

"Yes, mama… I know that."

The lady smiled. Her eyes scanned the features of the child momentarily before finally letting her hand holding his face drop to her side. Slowly, she straightened up again to her full height, but not before grabbing for something from the floor beside her. The moonlight caught it before it got swallowed by the darkness of the room again—a leather belt so thin it almost looks like a whip.

The woman raised her hand gracefully above her head before giving one last loving smile at the boy on the floor.

"Now, try not to scream too much… we don't want to hurt your voice."

---- Haechan softly hummed a happy tune as he walked through the wing of the house where their private quarters are. It was late at night and the rest of his brothers had retreated back into their own rooms despite all the excitement that  happened in the past few hours. His gaze touched each door as he passed them, a smile curling the tips of his lips as he did.

There are a few things that Haechan believes sets him apart from the rest of his family. He isn't as physically strong as Jeno, as charismatic as Jaemin, or as patient and quiet as Renjun. He isn't as friendly and likable as Mark, nor is he also as innocent and magnetic as Jisung and Chenle.

What Haechan is, however...is smart and cunning…

He is smart enough to always be two steps ahead of everyone and cunning enough to move the pieces that he set without having to lift a finger if he wanted to. There is a subtleness in him that doesn't make red flags flash in someone’s head unlike Jaemin does whenever he can't control his neediness, but he has enough pull to get under someone's skin if he wanted to unlike Renjun who prefers the quiet and watchful approach. Oh and Jeno? He knows how to use Jeno's strength well.

He knows it enough to suggest to his brother to give a little friendly push to the right direction—or rather, to the right cliff—so the wheel can finally move. Sure, it might hurt someone, maybe even break a bone or two, but that's normal. After all, when you love, you should be willing to hurt a little.

His hums died when he finally stopped at the last room down the hallway, mind trying to picture what's on the other side. His gaze quickly glanced at the small tray in his hands carrying a small glass of water and a variety of pills that gleamed under the dim lighting. He smiled. Finally, he raised his hand to gently tap on the oak door in front of him.

"Noona, can I come in? I have your medicine with me."

He heard a soft rustling from the other side before the door finally opened. Silently, Haechan took a calming breath and tried his best to look casual at the vision that welcomed him. Of course he was right. The dress looked perfect on her, almost as if she was the original owner of it. She looked like she stepped out from a dream… his dreams.

Oh and what he would do to keep her there.

He gave her a friendly smile now as he pushed the tray to her hands. She returned it with a grateful look before studying the oddly matched colors of pills there silently. They shone dully under the dim lighting of the hallway, as if officially warning the start of something.

Yes, Haechan believes that there are a few things that starkly sets him apart from the rest of his brothers. But if he were to choose one, he would say he is ruthless. Ruthless enough to drag someone down a little, all the while wearing that sunny smile on his face.

After all, a little nightmare won't hurt anyone.

"Don't forget to take them so you can feel better, okay noona?"

---

CHAPTER 5

A/N: Okaaay so the core four have finally been covered. Guess it’s time to ask now who is the scariest? JK. Taglist below! 

@negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey, @aj–7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights​, ---

[jiminrings]

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

oh

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours — n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

:O

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

oh

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

:)

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? part 11

[Full Masterlist] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All (Marked Chapters 18+) Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story.

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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‘No girls or Jungkook’s allowed! ’

The sign on the door filled you with so much anger. You had to physically remember to breathe, it wouldn’t do to start yelling at the hybrids, they already felt inferior and vulnerable compared to humans. You never wanted them to feel weak, which is why you were mad. You didn’t care if they wanted to exclude you, but you would give the two young men a strong lecture for even thinking about excluding Jungkook.

“Jimin and Taehyung I would like to talk with you,” you ripped the sign down and tore it up. It would be best to dispose of the evidence before the young man saw it. Seeing his hyungs ignoring him would break him, “If you are upset talk to me and I will try to fix the situation.”

There was no response so you sighed walking away pushing the small lump in your throat down, you heard them whispering and thought maybe they needed time. It was after lunch that you began wondering if they planned to lock themselves up all day. Jungkook sat on the soft rug looking at the video games and he smiled setting up the controllers as he looked between two games.

“Which one do you think is better?” Jungkook asked Seokjin who took one of the controllers and smiled, he read both and grinned and you stepped over sitting on the floor picking up a controller.

“I can play right, I think Jimin and Taehyung are talking about some things,” You smiled, nuzzling his hair for a second and leaning back on Seokjin’s legs. “So what are we playing, I have never played before?”

Namjoon ended up joining and Yoongi took a seat on your spare side on the rug and leaned on one of Seokjin’s legs laughing at your expense. “You missed, he was right there and you missed, he shot you,”

“Look, I am a Minecraft kind of videogamer, you know the sims?” You puffed your cheeks flailing as you tried to shoot Namjoon who was doing a lot of shouting and not a lot of aiming either.

Everyone was in stitches. You almost forgot about the other two boys who were feuding with you. It was late and you had played a series of driving and shooting games and a game of Minecraft; where you all made a village and lived side by side and visited each other's houses with food and tools.

“I am hungry,” Jungkook pouted, pulling your sleeve and glancing at the dark kitchen. You looked at the time, and your mouth dropped open. “When is dinner?”

“Let’s order in, I can’t be bothered cooking,” You ordered a bunch of food, making sure to get Jimin and Taehyung’s favorite dishes so that you could lure them out. They would no doubt be hungry.

The food was delivered and as you removed the lids you named the dishes loudly hoping the two locked away in their room would emerge and eat something.

It’s super effective!

You smile as everyone digs in. The two boys were obviously mad and jealous that you had slept in Jungkook’s room and you wondered how you would possibly be able to fix this.

“I will take Wednesdays,” Yoongi smiled “I like Wednesdays”

“What is he talking about?” Hoseok asked he was just as confused by the white tiger's outburst looking towards Namjoon who with a mouth full of noodles shrugged.

“Sunday’s you can sleep in Jungkook’s room, and mine on Wednesdays,”

“Oh I will take Monday’s” Hoseok smiled, brightly

“Monday is tonight” Jimin accused looking panicked, “fine, I will take Tuesday then”

“Can you sleep in my rooms on Wednesday?” Taehyung said,

“Wednesday is already taken,” Yoongi glared, placing some meat on Taehyung’s plate in an attempt to console him, “Take Thursday”

“Yes Thursday”

“I will take Saturday,” Jin grinned, “Which means Namjoon is Friday? Is that alright?”

You blinked watching this all unfold, they had just decided on their own sleep schedule for you. It was nice to see them working together but you didn’t know how to feel about moving rooms every night. But at this point, anything seemed more comfortable than the couch. “Maybe once and when I have stayed once in everyone's rooms, I will go back on the couch.”

“What if two people share a room and have bunk beds or something, then that leaves a free room for you?” Jimin said, grabbing some tteokbokki, “I can share with Hoseok or Taehyung or Jungkook, I can give you my room. It can be your own little space.”

“Oh, my room! My room!” Hoseok said, “I miss the sound of other people in the night, we can get bunk beds.”

Hoseok and Jimin grinned at one another, the two already talking about how they would design and decorate their room. Heading into the bathroom you cleaned up the clothes off the floor and dumped them in the hamper. It made you laugh how comfortable they were all getting enough to drop their clothes on the floor right beside the hamper.

Taking a rather warm shower you scrubbed your skin wondering if you would smell different again in the morning. It was a strange thought, once scrubbed and buffed clean you wrapped yourself in your towel and stood on the small mat in front of the basin. Examining your appearance, as you slowly moisturize your skin.

Whilst smoothing the cool night cream across your brow you thought you saw an orange tail in the mirror turning you thought Seokjin had burst into the bathroom to pee but when you turned nothing and nobody was there.

It left you feeling a little unsettled, it was your head playing tricks on you. Getting dressed you all but ran out into the hall smacking into Seokjin who was coming out of his room. You grasped his large shoulders to prevent yourself from falling back. He gripped your waist in response.

“Woah, what’s wrong, why are you scared?” He asked, his tail fluffed and his ears twitching looking for a threat. A few heads popped out of their rooms, “You reek of fear, what happened?”

“I spooked myself, one of the towels moved in the bathroom and I thought it was something else and I got scared, that’s all” Your voice died off with your rambling, and the blush settled upon your cheeks.

Hoseok walked over and took your hands, “don’t worry, you are staying in my room tonight so I will protect you!” His chipper tone did wonders to ease your distress, pulling you along to his room where he tucked the two of you into the bed.

“Thank you, I miss having people to talk to and just be there,” He smiled, “I am excited to get to stay with Jimin, he is such a nice guy.”

“He is a sweetheart when we were little we used to play together and he always wanted to play pirates and superheroes but on my 4th birthday no one from our school showed up to my princess party. So Jimin dressed up as a princess as did my carer Felix and his carer Astrid and we all shared snacks and cake”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!” Jimin’s voice screeched from the hallway seconds before rapid footsteps. His figure appeared in the doorway for a split second, his sock-clad feet slipping out from underneath him sending him sliding further down the hallway.

“I have pictures too,” You giggled

“Send them to me.” Yoongi’s tired drawl came from a few rooms up and you grinned airdropping them around the house. Jimin tried to wrestle the phone from your hands and you grinned, pulling him onto the bed.

“Time for bed Jimin, lay down or get out.” he indeed snuggled up on your other side, Hoseok and Jimin's arms wrapped around you and you were indeed feeling quite safe from your previous scare.

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Tags:  @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf  @ella-mella @lustremyg @sonnymii @moments-of-melancholy @calling-dips-on-j-hope @jiminiessipabo @staerryminimini @afangirl91 @halfway-insane @ireallylikeyourwriting @lindsayjoy444 @lindsay1013 @bangtansleftnut​ @chimchoom​ (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

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[newtonsheffield]

You mention how Edwina is the sweet princess but I feel like Kate is also truly loved by the people, they just maybe take a while to warm up to her.

Can we see a snippet of Kate being the Queen of everyone’s hearts like we know she would be and Anthony hyping her up the entire time?

Just you know to compensate for the angst today?

You don’t have to, of course but it’d be nice to read is all 🤗

Oh, Kate is definitely loved by the people by the time her coronation comes round because of a few things that happen during a televised event in two chapters time.

Make no mistake, the Royal family of Genovia is very well loved amongst the public and honestly, while they had thought Kate's relationship with Anthony might be a PR disaster, it turned into pretty well the opposite, let's take a look.

(I'm trying real hard not to spoil anything but some things might slip through and I'm sorry )

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Sophie?" Anthony said nervously to the woman currently flitting around behind his chair, directing a lighting technician with startling efficiency.

"We've been over this, Anthony. Yes. All of my ideas are good, and if you question another of them, I'll tell your mother what really happened to steal you from your engagement party." Sophie looked pointedly at Anthony, whose cheeks flushed as he thought about how Kate had felt, moving against him in the water of the fountain.

"How do you-?"

"I know everything that happens in this palace Anthony." Sophie said dismissively, "Also, Kate told me."

He could see Kate smirking across the room as her make up team flitted around her, putting the final touches on her.

This had been the part of their relationship that was the hardest for him to adjust to. He hadn't thought he would have to. Had thought it would be easy, given he'd had a semi public life as a viscount, but he'd very quickly learned that being associated with the royal family proper was its own kind of pageantry. He had Kate hadn't been together a week before they'd been sat in a room, the Queen Regent's disapproving stare fixed firmly on him, as Sophie chatted with 15 PR experts all tutting and umming.

"Just how public do you want this to be?" Kate's mother had sighed her eyes barely leaving Anthony's hand clutched firmly in Kate's.

Kate had frowned, "I know you think this is a mistake, Mary, but I love him." Anthony's chest had ached, for the disapproval in Mary's voice, though he knew it had nothing at all to do with Kate and everything to do with him, and rightly so.

"I don't think anything, Kate. You're enjoying a not insignificant bump in public opinion given everything that happened at... your wedding, I'm just saying, the public might not take kindly to seeing you in a relationship with someone that tried to stage a coup."

Unfortunately the PR experts had agreed, even Sophie humming sadly, but Kate had insisted, she wasn't going to keep their relationship a secret and so, Lord Bridgerton had emerged as Princess Katharine's public companion two weeks later.

And to everyone's very great surprise, the new royal couple had been a hit. Magazines were filled with pictures of Kate, smiling down at his younger sister amidst all the other school children. Pictures of him kissing her cheek as they got back into the car, the two of them branded star crossed lovers. Two people who weren't supposed to fall in love, but couldn't help themselves, capturing the attention of the entire country. Requests for media appearances pouring in, Sophie's phone ringing off the hook. And it had only been worse when Kate had been spotted, three weeks ago now, coming out of his apartment, an engagement ring fixed firmly on her finger.

So here they were, about to give a televised interview discussing how they fell in love. And it should have been so easy. But it really didn't seem that way.

"You look very handsome. I might have to undo those buttons with my teeth later." Kate's voice growled in his ear as she settled on the sofa beside him, legs crossed primly as she tucked herself against his side, wrapping his arm over her shoulders, her left hand resting on his knee so the engagement ring was front and centre.

Anthony felt himself flush, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Your Majesty." he ground out, ignoring her little huff of breath against his neck.

"Who said I wasn't planning on keeping them?" Her fingernails gliding up his leg, heat rushing to his stomach.

"Can we dial this horniness back to about a 2?" Sophie sighed from her position, by the door, waiting for the journalist to enter.

"What do you think we're currently at?" Kate hummed directing her attention back to Sophie effortlessly as Anthony tried to redirect his thoughts elsewhere.

"As always, 25. We want young and in love not ready to rip each others clothes off and make a celebrity sex tape."

"You can't deny we'd definitely get a lot of viewers." The corner of her lips was tugging upwards in smirk.

Sophie rolled her eyes, "One of these days I'm going to- Sandra! Lovely to see you again!"

The journalist had entered the room, looking around curiously, greeting Sophie politely. Anthony knew Sandra Jacobsen had been very carefully chosen for this interview, the exact brand of questioning carefully plotted out by Sophie.

"Your Majesty." The woman dropped into a curtsy before Kate, who nodded politely.

"And you know Lord Bridgerton?" The woman curtsied again.

"Sandra, it's so lovely to see you again. How is your son enjoying university?" Kate slipped effortlessly into her public mode, kindly enquiring after people, and Anthony knew, while other dignitaries had this information fed to thm, Kate kept her own careful notes on everyone, ready to use at a moments notice, and people were powerless t resist her smile.

Sandra settled in the chair in front of them after several long moments, rattling off some introductions, sending Anthony's anxiety hurtling towards breaking point, Kate's fingers drumming on his knee keeping it from getting there.

"Now, the two of you sent the entire country into a spin a few months ago."

Kate laughed delightedly, "Yes, I suppose it was a little dramatic wasn't it?" She turned to Anthony, her eyes sparkling at him, sending his heart skipping.

"We're nothing if not dramatic." Anthony couldn't help but grin. It was easy to laugh about it now, all the tears shed months ago now disappearing in the wake of this beautiful thing that had blossomed between them.

"I think, I speak for the entire country when I say what a beautiful couple you make." Sandra was saying, but Anthony couldn't pull himself away from Kate's eyes, drowning in them a little, falling deeper and deeper every second nw that he'd let himself.

"Lord Bridgerton?" Sandra's voice caught his attention, as Kate's elbow caught him in the ribs. Sophie hissing behind him like an angry goose.

"Sorry, Sandra I got distracted. Could you repeat that?"

"I was just saying, the two of you met when you were invited to stay at the palace," The very public, very necessary lie always grated on him. But they could hardly have had him say The future queen let me take her home not even knowing my last night and fuck her in my shower. Could they? "What was the first thought that ran through your head when you saw her?"

Kate was smirking at him, her hand tight on his knee, he could almost see Sophie begging him not to say something stupid, an image flashing through his mind f Kate on a barstool laughing delightedly his breath leaving his body.

"Honestly Sandra? Oh No, She's really pretty."

The entire Genovian news cycle is taken up by clips of Anthony stammering through his words, unable to take his eyes off his fiancée, Oh no, She's really pretty played on a loop, made into memes and jokes on late night TV. All with the same sentiment It's what she deserves. And Anthony honestly, couldn't have agreed more.