#Straight up woke up in a pool of my own blood. This is not an exaggeration

[prolibytherium]

I keep really really really really wanting to tell the story of the time I almost died after a full night of binge drinking my signature Evil Hot Toddy recipe because I honestly think it's a funny story, but it managed to shock an AA sponsor and has horrified all but my most jaded addict friends so it's MAYBE not casual sharing material

[luminique]

wrio x you pt. 2 because the people (me too) asked for it

you’re the only exception of people who were in his past that he’d try reconnecting with. he swore to himself that he never would but the memory of you haunted him every day and night.

working in the fortress didn’t even make it easier. he’d reminisce the past during his daily checks, filled with fights, scratches and blood, but you were each other’s rock in this cold and dark prison. sleepless nights where he’d go over to your bunk, you’d both be talking and laughing about the future until other inmates woke up to give both of you a good beating.

a letter wouldn’t hurt. signed and sealed, ‘Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley’ with the wolf insignia on the wax seal. he read the letter multiple times until he got sick of it and threw it in the trash. any and every free time he had, it was spent to write the perfect letter to you.

he even consulted sigewinne, clorinde and neuvillette for more opinions. it was honestly humorous to see the Duke be this… frustrated over something as trivial as a letter. his trash basket was overflowing with crumpled up pieces of paper.

“wriothesley, this letter feels too formal.” was a comment by clorinde about his 10th attempt. “you should add more emotion!” sigewinne responded after reading his 27th attempt. “i am not too familiar with matters relating to human love however i do believe that you have not conveyed that in this letter,” said by neuvillette regarding his 59th attempt.

he lost count of how many letters he had written, how many ink bottles he had opened, how many seals he had stamped. it was eating at him, and now the heavy weight of whether you’d even feel the same way back was beginning to creep in.

the ink pooled on the paper. he had run out of ideas, his hand shaking from the fear of it being imperfect. he couldn’t handle it anymore and let his emotions take over him. every word he wrote that night came straight from his heart instead of his brain, putting aside his own formality and rules for you. it’d be another scrapped attempt anyway…

‘With all my love, Wriothesley’, signed off with no wax seal. he had read somewhere that colored wax was used by sculptors when they made mistakes. this letter was no mistake, his love for you was no mistake.

he used his connections, specifically neuvillette and the maison gardiennage, to find where you had decided to settle down. he originally intended to have it sent to you by courier, but here he was, standing in front of your front door. to have the Duke come all the way up to the surface and hand deliver you his letter, oh how smitten he was over you. a quick fix of his outfit, brushed off any dust and fixed his hair before he knocked on the door.

he could hear your footsteps as you scurried over to the door, your voice behind it.

“i didn’t order anything. why is there a-“

you were cut off by the sight in front of you. his charming smile and blue-grey eyes that captivated you the moment you became friends in the fortress. he straightened up his posture, clearly taken aback by how much you’ve changed but it seemed to go both ways.

“good morning, i believe we have some catching up to do.” he said before holding out the letter for you to take. the sun was still out, there was tea in the kitchen and you had time to spare. next thing you know, you were sitting next to each other on the sofa and chatting about each other’s new lives, times changed yet feelings stayed the same.

[shinestarhwaa]

So I can't stop thinking about Ateez incubi-

But like...you're a nympho and they show up all "HA IMA SEX YOU"

and you're all "OH FUK YEAH" and they don't know what they are in for.

I keep wondering how each one would react to the tables being turned and the utter panic or if they'd love it.

I'm crazy and I've been on here too long.

An OT8 Incubus fic? Lord. I have never written anything like this before so pls bare with me and forgive me for any mistakes. I'm not too familiar with fantasy stuff but the incubi themes have caught my attention a few times before so I thought I'd give it a go. It has been weeks or months since you've asked this so I'm sorry for the long wait, but it's here. <3

SAY MY NAME | OT8

Genre: Smut

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main

Pairing: OT8 Ateez x Fem reader

Word count: 4.1K (of 100% smut)

Warnings/tags: Incubus!Ateez (sexdemons), vulgarity, pure filth, unprotected sex, oral sex, anal sex, face/throatfucking, dirty talk, reader is such a menace and a brat like man Wooyoung seriously found his match, degrading, choking, namecalling (whore, slut), fingering, some m x m action, huge dicks fr, they're all hundreds of years old (and San and Hongjoong are kind of their leaders), Yunho is a rookie incubus lol, SO many orgasms, overstimulation, nipple play ig, cum eating, hairpulling, squirting

Let me know if you wanna be on my taglist❣️

This will be absolute pure smut so read at your own risk lol

ENJOY!

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you could feel something was up. The atmosphere was uneasy, yet you were unsure why. You sat up straight, rubbing your eyes, trying to focus.

''Look at that, guys, she's already showing off her beautiful tits,'' a voice suddenly called. You frowned, scanning the room until you saw shadows, eight to be exact. You looked at the shadows, back to yourself, noticing the blanket that pooled around your legs, breasts left uncovered. You had the tendency to sleep naked as it felt like freedom to you.

''Look at those... Nipples already hard.''

The shadows came closer, revealing eight men - were they men? They were bare chested, muscular, cloaks around their shoulders what seemed to be gorgeous red and black wings. Their legs were muscular, showing through the leathery-latex fabric of their pants. One of the shorter ones stepped forward, the buckles on his boots making a little noise with every step.

''Hello there, little one,'' he said, running his hand through his bright blue hair. ''Who... Or what are you?'' you asked, although you kinda had a feeling that you knew what was coming. ''Me? I'm an incubus, my dear, and you can call me Hongjoong, you'll need to know what when you'll be screaming my name,'' he smirked. You swallowed thickly, feeling the arousal pool between your legs.

One of the taller ones took a deep breath, gasping. ''Can you smell that, boys? How horny she already is? She barely met us and already cannot help herself,'' he smirked. You bit your lip. ''So you boys just- sorry... You incubi... just came into my room to fuck me?'' The second incubi stepped forward, coming closer to your bed. ''We sure are. And you have no other option than to fucking take it, take our cocks... I can't wait for you to take mine baby, you'll be screaming my name... Seonghwa, until you cry...,'' he spat, leaning into you.

''Who said I didn't wanna take it? Having eight little guys fight for me and wanting me on their little cocks sounds pretty good actually,'' you teased. You couldn't care less about them being incubi, being a brat was in your blood. ''I'm fucking ready,'' you said as you threw the blanket off yourself, revealing your naked body. ''Come and get it,'' you winked at them, noticing they were already hardening in their pants.

''Oh? A little girl who thinks she can handle eight incubi at once? You don't know what you are doing, little one,'' the tallest one said, stepping forward. ''Well, puppy boy, you don't know what you are in for,'' you smirked, crawling over to the foot of the bed, where he was standing. Your fingertips travelled up and down his chest and abs, making his breath hitch in his throat.

''Earth to Yunho? What do you think you're doing? You're such an idiot, you're a newbie and it shows,'' another one complained, rolling his eyes. He was much smaller, but he was muscular and feisty, making you curious. ''Wooyoung shutup, I'm only 139 years old!'' Yunho grunted, making Wooyoung laugh.

''139 huh? You'd be the oldest person I've ever had,'' you smirked, teasing him more. ''No, I will be the oldest you've ever had, and we are not so called persons, we're fucking incubi. I'm 456 years old so you better respect me, hm?'' another one said, lifting your chin up with his thick fingers. ''Mhm, alright daddy,'' you winked. The cat-like incubi rolled his eyes. ''It's San.''

''San... Sannie? Is your cock as big as a mountain?'' you giggled, teasing him as well. ''You must've been a cat in your previous life, you look like you could meow any second now.'' San grabbed you by your throat, grunting as you palmed his hardened cock. ''Who do you think you are, little one? That's none of your business. I'll fuck this brattiness right out of your little ass,'' he said as he threw you back on the bed. You got him right where you wanted, not caring that you were actually playing with evil, not caring about being careful.

San stripped himself from his black pants, revealing his big, hard cock. ''Oh? No underwear? That's kinky. Do none of you wear underwear under that?'' ''I'll fucking show you kinky,'' San said as he wrapped his hand around your throat. You whined when you felt the restriction on your throat combinated with San's thick fingers sliding through your wet folds.

''Gosh, how are you this fucking wet,'' the demon called Wooyoung breathed out, palming his own cock through his pants. San rubbed your sensitive clit, causing you to whine out. ''You act so tough, Y/N, but we are so much more powerful,'' he cooed, ''you act as if we're people... But we are incubi, my love, we are meant to sex you the fuck up... Fuck you endlessly, fill you up with our devilish seeds... bet you'd be into that huh? Wanna get fucked by a couple demons like the whore you are? Hm? We know all about it princess, we know all about how much of a whore you are for a little dick,'' San grunted, pumping one finger inside your cunt, causing you to moan out.

The sensation was so much more intense with a demon compared to a human being, you noticed. Only one finger left you completely needy and in desire for the eight of their cocks. San pumped two of his fingers inside you, making your arousal flow through you and dripping down your pussy.

''Look at you, such a pathetic little slut,'' another incubus smirked, walking forward. He was fully undressed and you couldn't help but be surprised and impressed by his thighs and thick, proud cock. ''You just love being used, isn't that right?'' ''Yes... uhm...'' you breathed out. ''Jongho, is my name, darling.'' You nodded, ''Yes, Jongho.''

''I believe you need all your holes filled, so why don't you open up your mouth babygirl,'' Jongho smirked, hovering above your face. He faced San instead of the wall so he could be in charge of shoving his dick down your throat, which he did, making you gulp around his cock.

San smirked, pumping his two fingers in and out of your sopping cunt at a rapid pace. You moaned around Jongho's large cock as he fucked your throat. With his heavy balls covered your face you couldn't help but lift your hands up and squeeze them, play with them and fondle them. Jongho moaned out loud, surprising the other demons.

''Look at that little girl, she's taking them so well, I wonder how she takes cock in her little cunt,'' a very pretty demon said. ''I know right, Yeosang, she's swallowing my fingers so well, so eager,'' San replied, putting a third finger inside you. You felt intoxicated by the feeling and the sexual tension lingering in the air. You couldn't help but moan loudly, even with Jongho's cock in your mouth.

''God, you, moaning around my cock like that... Is it that good huh? Is Sannie making you feel that good?'' Jongho cooed. You whined loudly as you felt San hit all the right spots inside you. Jongho started groaning and pulled out of your throat. You gasped loudly, barely adjusting before it was filled with a new cock. You had barely seen the face of the demon, but it was quick to tell you his name.

''I'm Mingi, nice to meet you,'' he said as he started fucking your mouth. He was even girthier than Jongho was. He pounded your throat hard and quick and you were nearly choking and tears streamed down your cheeks as his groans got louder gradually. He came across as a bit of a goofy one before when you saw him, but the way he made you gag around his dick made you nearly cum on San's fingers, who quickly withdrew them as Mingi orgasmed, spilling inside your mouth without a warning.

San gestured Wooyoung to come closer, making him open his mouth. The oldest slid his slick fingers into Wooyoungs mouth, smirking. ''How does she taste, baby?'' Baby? ''Like fucking hell, Sannie,'' Wooyoung smirked. You looked worried for a second. ''Oh no, that's a compliment!'' Wooyoung quickly explained, ''Hell is the place to be, my love, you don't need heaven,'' he smirked.

Of course he wouldn't say it's heaven, he's a demon, duh.

''Did you just call him baby?'' you dared to ask, eyeing San and Wooyoung. ''Oh we are kind of a thing,'' Wooyoung bluntly said. You gasped, ''And you're okay with just... fucking other people?'' Wooyoung laughed. ''We're not people, my love, we're incubi, we need sex, we are meant to have sex over and over. We don't feel love like you do, but I suppose he's Clyde and I'm Bonnie as you humans say,'' he explained. ''So partners in crime then? You fuck people together?'' you asked.

''Hey, you know, I didn't plan on making this some kind of tea party, can we get on with the sex please?'' Yunho complained. San grinned lightly. ''Newbie,'' he scoffed, ''Fine, go over to her then, show her what you can do, you might get promoted.''

''You guys get promotions?'' you asked curiously. ''Well, not in money, but other things. Better accomodations, better clients, like prettier clients, bigger and stronger wings, extra stamina, bigger cocks, whatever,'' San explained as he took off his pants last, revealing his absolute monstercock, reminding you he's the oldest of all of them.

You swallowed thickly as you scanned all of their bodies, which were definitely all better than anyone's you've ever had sex with. Yunho laid on the bed and pulled you on top of him. He lifted you up with ease, realizing his strength was definitely part of his forte. He slid his cock inside your slick cunt, stretching your hole out completely, causing you to whine loudly. ''H-Holy shit!'' you moaned.

''Don't forget lesson one, Yunho, she's not used to demon cocks so give her a minute, but don't give her too much control. We are here to use her,'' Hongjoong reminded him. Yunho nodded, placing his large hands on your hips. You panted out, feeling your entire body tingle. He gently played with your tits, rubbing your nipples softly.

You moaned as you started to bounce on Yunho's cock, surprising the eight demons. ''Oh she's crazy,'' Mingi muttered. ''She's so perfect... Like a real... proper slut, clenching on my dick,'' Yunho smirked. ''Yes! Oh god, say that again,'' you moaned out, bouncing harder. It didn't happen often that the demon's preys were so into it and even were doing the work voluntarily.

''Yeah? You like being called a slut? Look at you... bouncing on my cock like that...'' Yunho moaned out. ''Y-Yes, oh I love it! L-Love being stretched out by your big, big cock,'' you whined, throwing in an ego-boost for the incubus who started smirking, eyeing his fellow demons. ''Look at him getting cocky,'' Mingi grinned as he watched Yunho hold onto your hips tightly, pounding up into you.

''Yunho! O-oh my God, Yunho, I'm gonna cum!'' you whined out as you felt the familiar warmth in your abdomen. ''C-can I cum? Please, please, please?'' ''Yes, baby, cum, cum all over my fucking cock,'' Yunho grunted as he fucked you harder. You felt a sensation you had never felt before in your life as he bounced you on his length. You came undone so hard you nearly saw stars, letting out the most sinful, pornographic moans you ever made.

The large demon came right after you, spilling his devilish seed inside your wet pussy. You moaned at the feeling, collapsing on his large chest. Before you could regain your breath Yunho had already laid you down, making you whine at the empty feeling in your pussy.

''Looks like our whore wants something more,'' Hongjoong said, ''Do you want my cock, little one?'' The smaller one slowly walked over to you, intimidating you with his demonic eyes. He crawled over you and lifted up your chin. ''Yes, Hongjoong, I want you, want to be filled up,'' you whined.

Hongjoong didn't waste another second and plunged his length inside your wet hole, pounding into it so hard and fast you swore you'd pass out from the pleasure. You moaned out, grabbing the sheets when you felt Mingi's mouth on your breasts, licking and flicking your nipples with his tongue.

''Look at those fucking delicious tits, so pretty,'' Mingi grunted, lightly biting your nipple, causing you to arch your back. You swore you'd lose your mind as Hongjoong was fucking you into oblivion. His cock wasn't as huge as Yunho's but he made up for it in pace and stamina, showing no signs of exhaustion whatsoever.

''Fuck me, yes, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!'' you screamed, totally submitting to the demon taking over your body. ''You're fucking ours now, understood? You belong to us,'' Hongjoong growled, fucking you so hard you saw stars.

You moaned over and over, feeling your body start shaking as you couldn't help but cum all over Hongjoong's cock when Mingi slipped his fingers between the two of you and started rubbing your sensitive clit. ''O-oh yes! Y-yes!'' you moaned out. ''Yeah? Want my cum? Want my fucking cum? You're gonna fucking get it, Y/N, say my fucking name'' Hongjoong moaned out, letting go and climaxing inside your cunt. You clenched hard around him, milking him dry completely, whining out his name

He pulled out of you, a string of your combined cum connecting him to your messy cunt. Seonghwa didn't hesitate to crawl onto the bed, darting his tongue out like a hungry dog, lapping the cum from Hongjoong's cock and your pussy, making the two of you groan.

Seonghwa started licking your pussy, eating you out and swallowing all the cum and arousal like a starved man. ''O-Oh yes, Seonghwa!'' you whined, running your hands through his raven hair, pulling it slightly. The demon moaned at the feeling as he fucked his long tongue into your easy hole. Drool was dripping on his chin, but nothing could stop the hungry demon. ''O-Oh my God that feels so good!''

''Seonghwa likes to feast on horny girls' pussies,'' Hongjoong smirked. ''I-I can tell,'' you breathed out, pulling his hair once more as he sucked your clit. ''I-I'm so close, Hwa!'' you moaned out. Seonghwa smirked at the new nickname. He sucked your clit hard, using the force of his strong tongue. You quickly came undone on his tongue, climaxing for the third time already, but he wouldn't stop.

''T-Too much, O-oh, OH!'' you nearly screamed out, squirming underneath his touch. ''Yeah? Is it too much for you? Little whore... You were begging for it, and now it's too much?'' Yeosang said, the pretty demon. ''Y-Yes, too much, please!'' you whined out, tears rolling down your cheeks. ''Well, guess what, we don't give a fuck that your pleasure is too much for you, cause you're just gonna take what we fucking give to you.''

Your eyes widened and you nodded. You couldn't help how horny that made you, completely being at their mercy. ''Yes, fuck, I-I'm sorry!'' you cried out. Seonghwa slobbered at your pussy like a dog, moaning against it as Yeosang stood behind him, gently cupping his balls and fondling them.

''You're so good Seonghwa, you definitely discarded the Rookie title,'' he praised the other, making you assume Seonghwa hadn't been an incubus for that long either. Seonghwa pulled away from your cunt and laid down as he pulled you on top of him, gesturing Yeosang to get on the bed behind you.

Seonghwa slid his cock inside you with ease, making you moan as he filled you up. ''Come on, Yeosang, get inside her too,'' Seonghwa grunted. Your eyes widened and you yelped as Yeosang's cock slid in your pussy, along with Seonghwa's.

You screamed out when Yeosang started moving his cock in and out at a rapid pace, sharp nails digging in the silky flesh of your thighs. ''AH! O-oh my god s-so big! S-so fucking big,'' you whined out. You had never felt this full before. Jongho stood up and got on the bed, holding your head still as he entered your mouth with his cock once again.

''You didn't make me cum the last time, princess, and fuck, you're gonna take three cocks at ones now. Understood? You'll take my fucking cum down your throat,'' he threathened. You nodded quickly and opened up your mouth further so you'd be able to take more of him in your mouth.

The remaining five men were all surrounding you, standing next to the bed, either pumping their own cocks or touching each other's. ''Look how much of a slut she is, she's even taking three cocks at once... Never have I ever witnessed that before,'' Mingi breathed out. ''I knew it, I told you she'd be a real whore when we entered the room and I was right. Her tits were already in the game before she even knew,'' Wooyoung smirked.

You gagged on Jongho's cock, looking up at him with teary eyes, face and hair a complete mess. Seonghwa played with your nipples as he bucked up into your cunt. Yeosang moaned out as he slid his cock along with Seonghwa's, reaching and touching places no one ever had before.

''I feel you clenching again, princess, are you cumming again? Are you gonna cum on our cocks? Such a good fucking girl, taking us like a real whore, best fucking client we've ever had baby,'' Yeosang growled as he pounded you harder and harder. You moaned loudly around Jongho's cock, drool, spit and tears coating your pleading face.

''Go ahead princess, cum on their dicks as you take my fucking cum in your throat,'' Jongho ordered. It only took two more thrusts before you came undone on Yeosang and Seonghwa. Jongho spurted his white liquid in your mouth, some dripping out of your mouth near the corners.

''Good girl... Such a good girl,'' Jongho cooed, licking his own cum and spit off your cheek and chin before getting off the bed. ''Fuck, I'm gonna cum, gonna fuck you so full of cum,'' Seonghwa moaned out. ''Y-Yes, give me your cum!'' you moaned loudly.

Yeosang pulled out his cock and you were suddenly filled up by an insane amount of cum Seonghwa sho into you, he kept cumming and cumming, making you go crazy and cum once again on his length, squirting all over his body and the sheets, screaming out his name. The pretty demon spat on his fingers and entered your ass, scissoring you open, making you whine loudly. ''You even like that hm? You really are a slut,'' he smirked, as if he didn't have control over your pleasure.

It was what they did. They could do anything they wanted to you, there was barely anything they did that didn't give pleasure. They made their preys feel ten times more sensitive as they had them under their spell.

Yeosang pumped his cock so quickly, cumming all over your ass, making sure you were coated inside and out. ''Fuck,'' he moaned, milking himself over your ass, patting it lightly. ''Good girl.''

You panted loudly as you rolled of Seonghwa's cock. San crawled over to you and spread your legs, looking at your full pussy, painted white with cum. ''What do you think, babygirl, can you take some more?'' he asked. You nearly passed out from the pleasure, but you nodded either way, wanting to have had every member of their little demon gang.

San slid his fingers through your folds and spat on his cock, coating his length. ''Sannie, I wanted to go next,'' Wooyoung sighed. ''Well, you'll have to wait because I am about to split her ass open,'' he smirked. ''Oh yeah, sure, come on she just had Seonghwa, how can she take the other sperm-tank of the group?'' ''Oh well, she'll take it, don't worry.''

The oldest incubus got you on all fours in no time, shoving his cock inside your ass without any warning. You screamed out his name and your arms nearly immediately gave in. ''Gotta have had all your holes filled and coated with cum precious, so I am the one taking care of this one. F-Fucking love your ass,'' he grunted as he pistoned his wet cock in and out of you.

He fucked you hard and deep, pressing you into the matrass right on the spot you had squirted. ''Fucking whore... You love it so much don't you? Having the biggest fucking cock you've ever fucked in your little ass? You'll never fucking forget this, baby, you'll never forget my cock,'' he growled in a raspier voice than earlier.

''Yes, San, San, O-Oh yes fuck me, fill me up, please fill me up, cum inside me!'' you moaned loudly, voice muffled by the soaky matrass. ''Yeah? Want my cum in your ass? Okay, baby, fucking take it then,'' San moaned out before cumming in you, coating your insides with his cum. His cum was just like Seonghwa's; it was so creamy and it was so, so much, you felt completely full and fucked out when he pulled out of you, letting you lay there completely ruined.

Wooyoung turned you over so you laid on your back and hovered his cock above your face and you immediately let out your tongue, giving the tip little kitten licks, making him smirk. ''Can I fuck you, precious?'' he asked. There was something about him that felt familiar and comforting, and for a second you saw it in Wooyoung's eyes as well.

He slowly entered you, much gentler than the rest, making you gasp as you held onto him. He teased you, slowly grinding his cock in and out of you, looking you straight in your eyes.

''W-Wooyoung, Wooyoung!'' you moaned out as he rubbed your clit in little circles, going faster and faster. Wooyoung's dick felt so magical inside you, it wasn't as long but it was insanely thick and girthy, feeling the blood-pumping veins against your cum-coated walls.

''Yes baby, say my fucking name, say my name, I got you, I fucking got you,'' he moaned out, growing needier and needier, fucking you harder and moaning louder. You groaned and whined over and over, moans aligned with his hard thrusts.

''W-Wooyoung, W-Woo, Oh, Wooyoung!'' you cried out as he rubbed your clit quickly. ''Cum for me, squirt all over my fucking cock, okay baby? Just let go,'' he panted. It took one, two, three more thrusts before you screamed his name out loud, body shaking as you climaxed on his cock, squirting all over him, receiving a few 'oh's from his fellow incubi.

He came with a low, long groan, filling your entrance up to the brim until it spilled out. ''Fuck, baby, such a pretty little girl,'' he said as he kissed your head, showing a gentler side you hadn't seen of any of the incubi.

He pulled out of you and the remaining seven demons stepped closer, surrounding you on the bed. For a minute you were worried with was gonna happen, until you noticed each one of them had their large cocks in their hands, jerking off at their own paces, some slower than others.

You spread your legs, opened your mouth and closed your eyes as you saw their furrowed brows and heard their mutters and grunts, noticing they were gonna paint you with cum.

After Hongjoong was the first to cum over your thighs, the rest followed. Mingi and Yunho covered your breasts in cum, Jongho and Yeosang came over your pussy and abdomen, San an Seonghwa unloaded on your chest and Wooyoung was last to whine out your name, cumming over your face.

You panted loudly, breathed heavily, not being able to get up anymore, although you weren't sure if you were gonna pass out or it was their doing.

''Good girl,'' Mingi cooed, patting your hair. ''Sleep tight, we might show up again, princess,'' Jongho said. You heard them shuffling away from you, but you felt one's breath on your lips.

You recognized Wooyoung, who gently pecked you, and kissed your head. ''Are you coming, Woo?'' San asked. ''Yes, I'm coming...'' he said, sighing, kissing you one last time only to leave with the other demons. Then it all got quiet.

-

You woke up the next morning, your entire body sore and stiff, sticky with cum. You gasped as you recalled the memories with the demons, giggling to yourself as you thought about your little secret. You noticed a little note scribbled on the mirror with black letters that made you smile and think.

'I'll be thinking about you

-Wooyoung'

[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: death, blood, violence, implied suicide, cannibalism, gore, Silas eats a guy, and it's pretty graphic, some implied nsfw but it's super brief (don't attack me.) Word count: 4024

Key: Regular text is for the present. Italics is for flashbacks, bold is for journal entries

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Lamentations Pt. 6.1

Silas tapped his claws against his desk, his face blank. He wanted to write, but... he was thinking about how Raine, one of his hunters, was out of town for a funeral.

"This kind of thing always takes you by surprise, you know?" Raine said through sniffles and an attempt to level her voice. "My sister was always so healthy and happy... to think she would have a heart attack..."

Silas didn't know. He didn't know because "this kind of thing" never surprised him. It was so normal for him that he forgot it was a nasty disruption of peace for others.

He picked up his pen and looked at the paper. Then he began to write.

In the Abyss, death is a guarantee. It is rampant. Constant. Swallowing up every flicker of life it can. I'm no stranger to death. But that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Meeting Morrigan's parents made me think of my own for the first time in years.

I can't remember much about them, really. They died when I was quite young, and most of my memories are fuzzy.

My mother, Lilith, was... distant. I don't think she liked me or my siblings all that much. Smaller, weaker versions of herself she's stuck taking care of with the rest of the family, using up energy that could've been spent getting food.

She wasn't cruel to us, but she wasn't loving and warm either. We were there. We were related to her. That was about it.

It wasn't a secret that we were an accident, an unwanted outcome of a passionate night with my father. There was no way to safely get rid of us either, so we were kept around until we were born.

There were moments where she was somewhat positive towards me. When we were unable to find food for about a straight week, she tried to coax me out of the ball I'd curled myself into. Loving, in a way.

I was unsure how she even died for the longest time. I never witnessed it like I had with so many of the deaths of the others in my family.

I just barely recall the last day I saw her. Everything is fuzzy, hard to know if they're accurate. Except for one thing. Her eyes.

I'm not sure why I remember her eyes so clearly. It's a detail that has stuck with me for years.

Everyone else was sleeping, I think. She was hovering by the entrance of the cave we were in. Or was it a hole? It doesn't matter.

She was staring into the nothingness, the vast expanse of lifeless black that made up the Abyss. The weakly flickering light in her eyes had long since sizzled out.

Once bright pools of jade were now dull and sombre. I never thought you could see the life in people's eyes until I looked at her and saw there wasn't any. They were dead.

Then she just... left. She didn't say a single thing . She didn't glance back at us. She just swam out into the open waters and didn't come back.

Sometimes, I wonder if I had woken up my father or someone else, maybe she would have been brought back safe, but I just went back to sleep and later woke up to find the adults in a panic.

Nobody ever told me what happened, not even when my father and grandfather came home with grim faces and teary eyes. But now... I think I know. And I don't think we could have stopped her if we tried.

My father was kinder to us... but I don't think he really knew what to do with us. He made sure we ate and congratulated us with a headpat when a hunt was successful, but other than that, he too was distant and unfamiliar. More focused on my mother than anything else.

He was killed during a raid when one of our attackers took a bite out of his throat.

It was during this same raid that I lost three brothers and two sisters. They were devoured in a few bites, alongside the scraps of food we had stored, and my sister Mei and I would have been next if it weren't for an older cousin intervening.

It's almost laughable how quickly I lost the rest of my family during my childhood. They were picked off one by one until only myself and my grandfather remained.

My aunts and uncles died in raids and fights, my cousins went out to hunt and never returned, and Mei... Mei was shot by a harpoon gun.

Out of my siblings, I remember Mei the best. She was tough, clever, determined, and powerful. She didn't have magic, but that never stopped her. We were inseparable until we were 14, when Mei was shot by a harpoon gun.

It was the closest we had gotten to the surface. We were following a ship to target bigger prey like the reckless teenagers we were. One of the humans on board saw us, and, well, before we could get away, the gleaming metal of the harpoon was piercing through Mei's chest.

She looked at me with such terror and anger in her eyes as the water filled with her blood, and she told me to get away before they fired again.

I wasn't able to. The tip of another harpoon got lodged in my tail. I ripped it out and left a trail of blood on my way to our grandfather, who was waiting for us.

He helped fix me up, and I couldn't hunt for a long while after that. I only learned this later, but the injury caused nerve damage to my tail.

My tail hurts when I swim, and I can't move it like I used to. I can't chase prey or swim long distances anymore without being in incredible pain and feeling my body resist me.

I switched to stealth hunting after that. I'm used to pushing through my pain, but I'd rather save my energy for a quick escape if I need it.

I never told any of this to Morrigan. Why would I? How could I? How do you tell someone they can never meet the rest of your family because every one of them met their end in various excruciating ways?

Sometimes, Morrigan would tell me about his childhood and then look at me expectantly for a story of my own. I could only look back at him, unable to answer.

My childhood was violent. I am violent. At least, I'm capable of being so. This fact was a concern that gnawed at the back of my mind at the start of Morrigan and I's relationship.

Morrigan had not seen the worst of me. The me that he knew was the one who had long since escaped the Abyss, someone who hadn't needed to kill other merfolk to eat for a very long time.

The idea of Morrigan coming to realise who I truly am, the violent cannibal his family warned him about, kept me up at night. It left me worried. Almost afraid.

It was stupid of me to doubt him like that. Disrespectful, even. Morrigan is clever and likely already knew. However, knowing isn't the same as seeing... and see it he did.

I got sick with some form of flu a few weeks after our visit to the city. I had a fever, and I couldn't keep anything down.

Morrigan came to stay to help my grandfather look after me, worried I would get worse. However, I had caught up on vaccines, and my health was far greater than it ever was, so I recovered quickly.

Just my luck that just as I was going to get more food after not eating for a week, we were raided.

Midway is much safer than the Abyss, but it sits right on the edge of it, so raids still happen every now and then when the local law can't prevent it. It's mainly businesses that got robbed, including my own, but I can hold them off just fine.

There was shouting in the streets, and the sounds of doors and glass breaking, and one of the raiders... a squid mer, I think, got inside.

Morrigan was dealt the first blow and sent crashing into the nearby wall before he could even react.

He groaned, stomach churning and head hazy. His tail fins whacked him in the face and obscured his vision. He was bent nearly in half, his head resting against the floor and his eyes facing the ceiling.

He rolled over, his head spinning and body screaming in pain, and propped himself up with one elbow and one hand.

Morrigan trained his eyes on the squid making their demands, with full intent to lunge, when a blur of purple tackled them to the floor, and it suddenly got very, very quiet.

Ominous wisps of blood began drifting into the water, billowing into large blooms of red before slowly dissipating.

Morrigan watched in silent shock as Silas released his hold on the mer's throat, his teeth stained red.

Morrigan opened his mouth to say... something, but he froze in place when Silas dipped his head, and a wet tearing sound filled the silence.

Morrigan's stomach dropped, and icy fingers of fear crawled up his spine. He backed up until he was pressed against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest.

The sound of flesh ripping carried on for far too long, interrupted only when Silas stopped to swallow.

There was so much blood. It seemed to overtake the little shop, swallowing it in a cloud of dark red. Viscera slipped to the floor with a wet splat, and Morrigan felt his stomach churn.

He felt bile rise in his throat when Silas tilted his head back and swallowed a large tentacle he had violently torn off the squid whole.

Morrigan covered his mouth when Silas' hands, slick with blood, were caught in the dim light of the lanterns.

Morrigan pushed away from the wall, his back aching, to try sneak away and come back later when Silas was done doing... that.

The moment he made the slightest movement, Silas' head snapped in his direction, and he stared at Morrigan, his pupils blown so wide that only the tiniest slivers or his irises were visible.

Morrigan briefly wondered if Silas had perhaps been letting him win at their game this entire time, but he was distracted by the fact that lower half of Silas' face was caked with shiny, sticky blood.

"S...Silas," Morrigan said slowly, his voice raising several pitches. "Silas, calm down."

Silas didn't say a word at first. He simply stared at Morrigan with that wide-eyed, intense gaze. Then, he blinked a few times and huffed.

"I'm perfectly fine," He growled, his words warbled from the blood in his mouth. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing at the squid he had torn into. "This one hurt you and tried to rob me. I'm just taking care of a threat. "

Morrigan suddenly felt very relieved that he overpowered Silas when they first met.

"That's- uh- great, love, but can you put that away? Far away?"

Silas glanced at the corspe, then at Morrigan. "Alright. Stay here. You're hurt."

Silas grabbed the squid mer by the hair and began dragging it to the back of the shop. Morrigan tried not to look, but before he could turn away, he was met with the sight of the carnage Silas left behind.

He promptly bent over and threw up.

The image of that squid was burned into his brain, flashing every time he closed his eyes. Silas killed them before he could even react. Then he... why would he do that?

He'd just been sick, right? He spent a whole week without eating anything because he couldn't keep anything down.

Maybe it was an instinctual thing. Silas never outright said it, but Morrigan was pretty sure he's eaten people before. And he was protecting himself, Morrigan and Emrys, right? So it wasn't a malicious act per se...

The thought alone made Morrigan wince at the barage of rage his parents would send his way were they to hear it. Endless ranting about Silas' bad influence on him, how Silas' monstrous nature would corrupt and damage him...

Well, they never knew what they were talking about. Silas was constantly proving them wrong.

Even now. He was protecting Morrigan and making sure they weren't robbed. Nothing monstrous about that. Besides... he certainly didn't look monstrous either.

Morrigan's cheeks pinkened, and he smiled a bit, running his hand over a bruise on his arm.

"Thanks, Si." He mumbled.

Morrigan turned out fine, though he had some bad bruising and quite a sore back. I was... afraid he'd leave me, want to get away, and never come back.

But... while I was looking him over and making sure he was alright, he put his hand on my cheek and kissed me. Hard.

Even though the blood stained his fingers and his tongue. He wasn't afraid or disgusted.

"When you looked at me, I was afraid you were in a frenzy," Morrigan mumbled. "That you didn't recognise me. How stupid of me. You'd never lose yourself like that."

I'm glad he stayed. And that he understood me.

I never intended to eat that squid mer. Just kill it and maybe eat it later. Not in front of Morrigan. Not like... like that. I think it was because I hadn't eaten in so long.

The next few years blended together as life carried on. I wish I could remember every detail, every joyful moment that young, ungrateful version of myself didn't appreciate like he should have.

Morrigan visited almost every day. We talked, we fought, we kissed, we embraced, and when my grandfather went to bed and the night got quiet... we tangled further.

Morrigan was never gentle, and I loved it. There was a care to his roughness. For every bite and for every time his claws raked across my skin, words of love and praise flowed endlessly from his mouth in quiet huffs.

And when it was over, he held me like I was his most precious treasure and sang to me. His voice was like honey.

I miss his touch. I miss his embrace. His compliments and kisses, his voice, his smile, and his field nature. I miss Morrigan so much.

But that's not important right now. We made the most of our time together. Morrigan began teaching me the spells and magical arts he knew, and in return, I began teaching him Abyssal magic.

Morrigan is a powerful mage, I know. He reeked of magic. It was powerful and pulsing and seemed to fill the air of whatever room he was in.

Morrigan always amazed me. He mastered spells almost faster than I could teach them, perfecting them within a few tries. Even more dangerous or complicated spells that took me months to perfect only took him a week or two.

"That boy," my grandfather would say with a fond expression. "Has an incredible gift."

And he was right. Even nowadays, after meeting other mages, I have never met someone like Morrigan.

"At its core, all magic has a basic structure," Morrigan would say to me. "Spells are just add ons to these structures you need to memorise."

It seemed so obvious to him. So clear. He knew magic like the back of his hand. He lived and breathed it. He saw the details that made the bigger picture, the threads that formed exactly what he wanted.

It took me much longer to learn Morrigan's magic. Not only the craft of the sea, but also the magic he learned on land.

Fire, water, flora, cosmic... it is all so fundamentally different to abyssal magic in a way I almost can't explain. It's like learning a new language with rules that are nothing like that of your own.

Morrigan's magic... it is filled with life. You draw from the plants, the water, the stars... it is channelled with imagination and a point of your pen or hand.

Abyssal magic is drawn from death and... I suppose you could say life. But not plants. Not the water.

Bones, blood, skin... they are what fuels Abyssal magic. A body will get you quite far. Crush a crab or something in your hand. It will give you what you need to cast a spell.

I suppose it is because death is such a core part of the Abyss. It only makes sense that a practice native to it will thrive in death, even in small doses.

Many abyssal spells have a similar outcome to "regular" spells but are much more powerful. Many more require drawing out sigils and saying certain phrases in abyssal tongue... I'm not sure why.

It was a change for me. I itched to start tracing a symbol in front of me or on the ground, to murmur those magic words that would get me want I wanted, but... I had to just envision instead a draw from the world around me.

"You're clever," Morrigan would say when my attempts failed. "You'll get it eventually."

I did get those spells right, eventually. Cosmic magic came easiest to me. It felt similar to abyssal magic. It's funny. The stars above and the inky black depths below should be polar opposites.

But... "As above, so below" is a saying that comes to mind.

However, to this day, I don't understand this new magic well enough to teach it. I wish I could.

I can't remember most lessons well as it was so long ago, but I do remember the way Morrigan's eyes lit up with joy and burned with a sense of victory when he got an abyssal spell right, teeth glinting in a large smile.

He's so perfect.

Morrigan told me about blot during one of his lessons. That thick, black, sticky substance that forms when you use magic.

Silas' breath hitched for a moment.

Morrigan's magestone was encrusted on a thin, gold bracelet he wore. He said he originally wanted it in an earring, but his nieces and nephews would yank on them.

I didn't have a magestone. I still don't. I was confused when Morrigan explained what they were, and he was shocked I hadn't overblotted as the blot gathered directly rather than on a stone.

"I don't use my magic much," Silas told him. "Not like you mages do."

Morrigan looked concerned. "Yeah, but with your level of power and how you grew up, that doesn't matter. Blot accumulates even with the tiniest bit of magic, and proper sleep and eating well are some of the only things that get rid of it."

There was a sad tinge to his voice for a brief moment. "You... you were literally starving, Si. And I've only ever seen you sleep properly a few times. Naps don't count."

Morrigan was rightfulfully concerned, but what could I do? Where or how could I get a magestone? Would I even be allowed one, untrained by government standards and technically not an existing person?

"I could organise one for you," Morrigan offered. "A schoolmate of mine is a professor at Night Raven now."

Silas shook his head. "No, it's fine. I haven't needed one up till now. I'll be fine."

I suppose one could say Morrigan should've pressed me more about this, considering how dangerous blot is, but my way of getting rid of blot was good enough for him.

My unique magic. I never knew that's what it was called, not until I told Morrigan about it. When he was pressing me about getting a magestone, I told him I knew a spell that got rid of the odd weight on my chest that would gather when I used magic.

"Another abyssal spell?" Morrigan asked, lighting up in excitement. "Could you teach me?"

Silas shook his head. "No... None that I or my grandfather know. I could just... do it one day. I don't know how."

"Oh, your unique magic?"

"My what?"

A unique spell of my own that no other person can be taught. Many people name theirs, but I've never named mine.

At first, I thought it just made my magic stronger and made me feel less sick. However, when Morrigan explained blot to me, it suddenly made things click into place.

I know what blot feels like, though I used to think I was just sick. It's a warm, wet weight on your chest that only grows if you don't clear it.

It feels like when you get sick and whenever you inhale, you can feel something coating your throat and lungs. It makes you gasp and gasp for just a bit of air.

I can't remember when I first used my unique magic. I try to, but it won't come to me.

Silas stopped writing for a moment. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, racking his brain for a memory that refused to surface. He has brief flashes of something... but it was too vague.

Blood. Teeth. Bursts of light. Then, nothing. Same as always.

Silas made a noise of exasperation and continued writing.

I can't remember. It's something so important, something that has kept me alive all these years, and I can't remember when or how I got it.

I... I think that applies to much of my life. There are so many things I can't remember, even nice things. They are locked somewhere in my mind. What did Doctor Koi call it again... suppressed. They're suppressed.

I still forget things. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I sometimes can't remember who spoke to me ten minutes ago unless I write it down.

I have to write a lot of things down. I think having my grandfather and Morrigan around to do the remembering helped me all those years ago. Even though I didn't know I had... what's it called... dissosociative amnesia. And short-term memory loss. I have both of those.

I don't like forgetting things. I don't like the fact that I can't rely on my own memory, that unless I write it down, I have to trust that others won't lie to me.

And really, I have to wonder if there is some type of god out there. I never believed in things like that, but... how else could I have lived this long, if not through divine intervention?

A forgetful shark who can't swim properly. I might as well have gone up to someone and asked them to eat me.

Anyway, while I mainly use my magic on other mages, who I rarely find, I can also use it on regular people. The effects when there is no magic are much more dramatic, but I won't go into that now.

Morrigan admired my unique magic but was more relieved that I had an efficient way of getting rid of blot than anything else, even if it came at the cost of others.

"You should use it more often," He would say. "So you don't risk anything happening."

I never did that until much later in life, but I appreciated the sentiment.

There isn't much else I can say. The next few years were relatively peaceful. Morrigan came over more and even spent the school holidays with us. He let me sit with him as he planned out his lessons, telling me about his new and old students, an excited spark in his eyes.

My grandfather and Morrigan got closer. They got along so well. I was so glad. Morrigan went to get my grandfather's medicine for us and helped me get it ready, and helped me feel better about his declining health.

I would often come back home from a hunt to find them talking and laughing, showing each other tricks and spells they knew.

Yeah, it was peaceful. Fun, even. Until it was ripped away from me.

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

Guide: Start, Prev, Next

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, guys! You may have noticed that this time, the flashback was from Morrigan's perspective rather than Silas'! I think it would work better that way. I'm really proud of this chapter, and it took a really long time to make, so I hope you like it! Those who are new, I've got the guide right above!

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras

[eva-terra-marie]

It’s Always The Same Dream

Bakugou x fem! reader

Summary: In middle of the night, Bakugou wakes up to you screaming in your sleep, so he comforts you from those terrible nightmares.

Warnings: Angst and kinda sad but fluff at the end. Also, there is sorta a manga spoiler (if you know what I mean…) Read at your own risk.

Hope you guys enjoy and pls don’t kill me if I made you guys cry :(

✫彡ミ★✫彡ミ★✫彡ミ★✫彡ミ★✫彡ミ★✫彡ミ★✫

It’s always the same dream. It’s been a few months since these nightmares have been happening to you. Ever since you’ve went on a mission with Bakugou a few months ago, he was badly injured but somehow he managed to survive. It caused you to suffer these terrible nightmares of him dying in your arms, bleeding to death, and saying his last words to you. You would always wake up crying and screaming every night. It felt like hell for you.

You just got out of a warm shower after a long day of training and started to walk to your dorm room. Once you opened your door, you see your loving ash blonde boyfriend on your bed, waiting for you. “Katsuki, what are you doing here?” You questioned as you closed the door behind you. “I’m sleeping here with you tonight, gotta problem with that?” He grumbles. “Someone’s grumpy.” you teased and giggle slightly “Oh shut up, it’s been a long day so come here.” He holds out his arm for you.

You start to walk towards him until he pulls you into his arms, holding your waist. You sigh softly and wrap your arms around Bakugou. You hoped that tonight these nightmares would disappear now that Bakugou was here with you.

You start yawn softy and layed your head on Bakugou’s warm chest. “Getting tired, Y/n?” Bakugou asks and you yawn again, “Yes.” He slightly chuckles at your cuteness and moves a strand of your damp h/c hair out of your face and kisses your eyelids. “Goodnight baby. I love you” You smile sleepily, “Night Katsuki. I love you too.” And you both drift to deep slumber.

‘It’s always the same dream’

He was laying there,bleeding, with a hole on his chest, the love of your life, dying in your arms.

“N-no, No! Please don’t leave me Katsuki!” You cried, begging him not to go.

“Y-Y/n, stay strong for me, ok?” He says to you holding your cheek.

“Katsuki please…”

“I love yo-“ he finally takes his last breath and his hand leaves your cheek and hits the ground.

“Katsuki, no, NO! DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!” you stared at his lifeless body, lying on a pool of blood.

“No…KATSUKI!!!”

Bakugou woke up to the sound of you screaming his name. He quickly sat up and started to shake your sweaty shoulders. “Fuck, Y/n, you gotta wake up!” You kept screaming and Bakugou couldn’t take it anymore.

“Y/N, WAKE UP!” He yells louder and you finally open your eyes. You started to breath heavily, your e/c eyes were red and swollen from crying, and you stared straight ahead at the wall in front of you.

Bakugou sighs in relief and takes your chin for you to face him. “Baby, what the hell happened?” He softy asks while stroking your soft h/c locks. “I-it was horrible, Katsuki…” You sniffed while wiping your tears from your face. Bakugou sighs again, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated for a moment before you started to speak. “I-it’s always the same dream.. it’s always you, you dying in my arms, with a hole in your chest.. I-I just can’t take it anymore! It’s happens every night! Ever since that mission!” You start sob into your hands.

This, this hurt Bakugou so bad, seeing his best girl cry. He hates seeing you cry. “It’s happens every night? Well, why didn’t you tell me?” Of course, you never told Bakugou about these nightmares because you don’t want him to worry about you.

You wipe your tears again, “I j-just didn’t want you to worry about me..” Bakugou pulls you against his chest and whispers in your ear. “Let me tell you something Y/n, you don’t need to keep all your worries from me, and I’m here Y/n, I’m alive.”

“I know, I’m just scared of losing you.” You sigh trying to fight back the tears and Bakugou holds you tighter “You’re not gonna lose me, it’s just a dream. I’m not gonna let some stupid villain kill me. I’m here, with you.” You smile into his chest and look up at him “Thank you, Katsuki.” He smiles a little and holds your cheek with one hand and leans forward to kiss your lips.

“I love you, Katsuki.” You say

“And I love you, Y/n. You think you can go back to sleep now?”

You hesitated for a moment then nodded. You both lay back down on the bed and Bakugou wraps his arms around your waist while you lay on his chest. “Try to get some sleep Y/n. I’ll be right here. You’re safe with me.” Bakugou whispers softly before you closed your eyes slowly. After you fell asleep, Bakugou sighs in relief and kisses your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Y/n.” Bakugou says before he falls asleep.

And let’s just say, you never had those nightmares ever again.

[kedreeva]

steve accidentally gets a dog and everyone is very relieved that this means he always has company

(My askbox is open for prompts today)

Steve wakes with a hammering heart to the sound of his garbage can being toppled. He's out of bed and halfway to the door before he even realizes he's awake and it takes him a frozen moment of terror to place what woke him up.

There's something in his yard. Something big.

He lets out a shaky breath and crosses to his window to look down at the pool area. He's not sure what he expects. Monsters, according to the slamming of his heart, or maybe a bear or something. The cans have been knocked over by critters as small as coons in the past, which is the only reason he peeks down instead of immediately picking up the radio Dustin had insisted he keep.

At first, he doesn't see anything. The yard is empty. The can is on its side, but there's no woodland creature sifting through it for his leftovers. There's no monster, and no blood, and no movement, until there is, and Steve starts to duck down below the sill before the shape registers.

It's a dog.

It's a fucking dog.

"What the hell," he mumbles, standing up straight. He cracks the window enough to shout down at it. "Hey, go on! This isn't your yard!"

The dog startles at his first words, and then looks up, tail wagging. It's one of the big gold ones with long fur and a ridiculous, sloppy smile. It barks once, and Steve tells it NO, so it begins barking nonstop. He groans, and shuts the window, which does almost nothing to dampen the sound. He's going to have to go down and call the owner, or the damn thing will wake up the neighborhood and they'll blame him, and he really doesn't want any attention on him right now. Or ever.

So he pulls on a shirt and clatters down the stairs to the back door. The dog is already there, and when Steve opens the door to go out, it comes right in as if it owns the place. Steve watches it pass and head toward the kitchen, and then tosses a hand up as he slides the glass door shut again.

"Sure," he says, as if the thing can understand him. "Make yourself at home, I guess. Where are you going?"

It's snuffling around the kitchen as if looking for something, so Steve stands in the doorway and watches. He tries not to examine the thought that despite the fact it's three AM, it's kind of nice to hear the sound of another living thing, another friendly living thing. It's not like the dog is going to stay, it's not like Steve can get attached.

Except, he thinks, it's not wearing a collar.

His brow furrows and he gives a soft whistle, to which the dog responds by bolting over and practically throwing itself against his legs to be pet. Steve stumbles backward a little, can't help his snort of laughter or the warm pang of being instantly and unconditionally loved for a moment.

"Hey, okay, cool it," he says, hands sifting through the dog's fur, thinking maybe it is just so thick around his neck the collar is hidden, but he can find no evidence of there ever having been a collar. Its fur feels kind of grimy, as if it hasn't been groomed in a long time, and up close Steve can see the knots and burrs, the bits of twigs and debris caught in the tangles.

He slides hands down to the dog's sides, feels the bumps of ribs under the fluff of fur.

"Oh," he says quietly. That's probably why it'd knocked over Steve's garbage cans- it had to be hungry. "You've been on your own a bit, huh?"

He blows out a breath, and straightens. He doesn't have any dog food, but there's still some chicken left from his own dinner. It's probably not great to feed dogs people food, but it's only once. He can get the dog - it really needs a name - to someone in the morning, someone with proper food.

He has to navigate over the top of the dog as he crosses to the fridge. It bounces around as he pulls open the tupperware he'd packed away tomorrow's lunch in, and as soon as it's on the floor, wolfs down the whole thing so fast Steve feels a little sick about it for the dog. He fills a bowl with water and sets it on the floor next, and this the dog takes a little slower.

"You need a name," he says over the wet lapping sounds. "I can't just call you dog all night."

He mulls it over while the dog finishes the bowl of water, and then comes to sit in front of him, tail sweeping the floor. It looks up at him adoringly, big dumb smile on its face, and Steve thinks maybe he can get some dogfood in the morning, and look for its owner himself. The local shelter is probably already crowded and... well, it could be nice to have a little adoring company for a bit.

"C'mon, then," he says, patting his leg. "I'm not letting you get the house all dirty. If you're gonna stay, you need a bath."

The dog follows behind him happily, clearly no idea what awaits it at the top of the stairs. Steve leads it into the bathroom and closes the door behind them, at which point the dog hesitates, looking betrayed. Steve rolls his eyes.

"You'll be fine, I promise."

It takes a little bit of wrangling to get the dog into the tub, but once Steve has the warm water running and is cupping it up and over its fur, the dog lies down in it and begins splashing with its paws. He gives it as good a scrub as he can, working some of his own shampoo into her fur - and she is a her, he discovers in this process - and untangles some of the easier knots. Carefully, he clips some of the worse knots, including the ones by her ears and behind her elbows and all over her rump, and he rinses her three times until he can't smell the shampoo anymore. She's tolerant of most of it, which he assumes is only because she saves all of her revenge for the moment she throws herself out of the tub and shakes herself dry all over everything.

"Great," Steve tells her, sopping wet, too, now. "Awesome."

He strips out of his shirt and tosses it in the sink before grabbing his towel to begin drying her. Wet fur smells awful, but he rapidly realizes there's no way he's going to get her dry with just the towel, so he uses the blowdryer until she's warm and just a little damp, and her fur's been brushed out carefully with a comb.

He lets out a breath, gives a nod, and stands. She looks up at him, practically shining with the care he's given, and he actually smiles back.

"You need a name," he says again, except he's spent the last half hour staring at beauty products, and he's gotten ideas from them. "How about Farrah?" His grin widens. "Farrah Pawcett. Furrah Pawcett." He snorts when she barks and wiggles. "I'm glad you like it."

He opens the door to the bathroom, and she practically bowls him over going through it around him, but she pauses in the hallway to look back it him, tail flagged in question. He looks at her, and then at the ruined bathroom, and the time on his watch. Nearly 4am. He decides the bathroom is 8am Steve's problem, and just closes the door behind himself.

She's uncertain about the bed, but with a bit of coaxing she climbs clumsily up into it with him, and flops down hard on top of him once he's under the covers. He adjusts a few times until her warm back is up against his side, his hand buried in the damp fur of her chest, and she finally, finally falls still.

He's asleep in seconds.

-----

"You have to keep her," Dustin tells him.

"She kind of picked you," Robin reasons.

"You've seen her naked in the bath," Eddie tells him, and gets smacked on the arm for it.

"You don't give a name to a dog unless you're already planning on keeping it," Nancy says.

In fact, not a single person he tells in the morning approves of the idea that he turn her over to the shelter. He gets help from Jonathan on a photo for the found posters he makes, but after a week without a call, Max makes a comment that sends him around to take them all down again.

"You seem happier," she tells him quietly. "Less lonely."

That evening, Steve sits on the couch and stands Furrah's ears up tall to either side of her head and laughs as she twitches her head back and forth trying to see what he's doing, and as she wiggles free and up to his face to lick his cheeks, he thinks maybe Max is on to something.

[the-realest-spot-conlon]

Lmao omg I'm gonna rant about my day yall don't have to stay for this. Tw: mention of blood

I woke up in a pool of my own blood and somehow I didn't see my period coming despite me crying over "Little Brother," from the outsiders musical the previous night which usually I don't cry over that shit but I did. Anyways, I get terrible moods wings during my period as one does, and so in math class this little bitch we'll call him Jo, wouldn't stop fucking yapping and talking shit during the game when I went against him so I told him to shut the fuck up and he indirectly called me a bitch and so I moved to fucking punch the shir out of the little bitch but unfortunately (for my own good) my math teacher gave me a look like "girl don't do it," cuz she'd have sent my ass straight to the office and Ida gotten suspended.

[siremasterlawrence]

Las Vegas: Ryan Gosling Residency

Zach Efron is literally crowned the party bro in less the a week making Las Vegas what it was once

The party central over the world I can see all of my work as Zac puts on a private show just for me in a hotel rise.

A billboard high above the sky so bright in my face showcasing his sexy self modeling for the world.

Then my cellphone blows up on the side night table in my bedroom next to bed I turn to pick it up.

Ryan Gosling is in Las Vegas at a red carpet event waving like an idiot I call my private guy a sniper.

As quickly a possible my team to jump up on top of a building laying on the roof and point the guns.

The entirety of the area is shock with waves of gas overtakes the area blinding our view points.

The crowd screams running away with yells escaping out of way so the private guide to do their jobs.

They slid the x-Ray glasses down on the tiny bridge of his nose covering his face with evil intent.

They glee with smirk one trigger goes of as the silencer sound of a bullet Gosling dead center.

He falls face forward onto the ground soak in ruby red blood pooling for everyone to see.

The team swoops in each one taking a limb and yank him into a van parked on the side road and drive off into the murky night.

“Well…well…well…what do we have here?” I say entering the area.

“Ryan Gosling…as promised.” They say in a salute.

“Great! Get out” I demand.

“It’s just you and me buddy” I whisper into his ears.

“You have never been a top priority.” I say

“You are now “ I add.

Ryan woke up after a week of being strap down, vr glasses pumping hours of my visuals and my voice on loop.

“Who the fuck am I?” Ryan ask holding his head.

“You are Ryan Gosling a actor and my Ken doll.”

“You want to play Ken”

“I did already”

“For life”

“Yes Master”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I love you sire”

The end

Las Vegas: Ryan Reynalds Residency

“Hello? Mr. Reynalds!”

“Can I help you?”

“Since when do actors do Vegas residencies?”

“Are you against it?”

“No! It’s a bit odd”

“Why is that? Two guys are already reaping rewards”

“Oh yeah! Wait! NO!”

“What’s wrong ? You came to me”

“You did this…no you are right”

“Mr. Mint mobile”

“Look at me Ryan”

“Be honest! Why are you here?”

“I felt I need to be here”

“I felt drawn here”

“Naturally! I need you of course”

“So impulsive and naive “

“stand up”

“Focus on me”

“I am your Master”

“No…no…no”

“Why are you here?

“My Master he”

“I what?”

“Needs me”

“Turn of organic protocols and erase them”

“Initiate new programming”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Who owns you ?”

“You do”

“Perfection”

Poor Ryan like a candle to a flame he can’t help but obey me so I set up on the couch for minute.

“Focus on the center of the room”

“Lights off “

“Windows closed and blinds drop”

“Projection”

“Uuuuuhhhh”

“Close your mouth”

“Sit up straight “

“Stare ahead”

“The spiral is beautiful”

“Yyyyeeeeessss”

“The message us clear”

“I obey you”

“I love you “

“I serve you “

-snap-

“Oh Master”

“My love”

The end

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Danny - modern verse

♠ - for a nightmare ♦ - for a dream from childhood ♥ - for a sex dream/wet dream ♣ - for a daydream

I know the meme exists, but every time I need to find it I can't so I made my own on my prompt blog | Accepting

♠ - for a nightmare

Danny was sitting in his room, the humid Florida air was chilled beyond what he would even comprehend as normal. No this wasn't his apartment. This was his childhood bedroom. The antlers still on the wall and the corner torn posters of horror movies still barely clung to the tape that kept them there. He was already stressed. He shouldn't be here. For all the years he had spent doing grueling tasks and drills, he never once felt like he belonged in that home. Not since... He walked through the dark hall that felt more like a run in a slaughter house as he made his way to the living room.

It was so dark. Normally he'd find comfort in that, it meant people were asleep. His dad was asleep, but this.... this was just unnerving now. The eerie fluorescent glow from the kitchen made itself clear the closer he creeped down the hall and the closer he got the more that dark pit formed in his stomach and the more he didn't want to walk, but sill he persisted. Stopping in the doorway he seen it. The tattered dress that clung to a familiar frame. The blood that pooled endlessly.... He awoke with a start. Sitting straight up in bed and panting as he checked the clock. Oh... right. This was the fog. He couldn't even take a nap without something fucking it up.

♦ - for a dream from childhood

Danny always had the same reoccurring dream where he was trying to find someone or get home. Though no matter how hard he tried, he never was able to before he woke up. Dreams that left him frustrated and unable to really do anything with, at least nightmares he could write down what points scared him and incorporate them into his own writing, but... those dreams had nothing. They were empty. Meaningless. They just existed to disrupt his rest and make the rest of his day miserable from the exhaustion.

♥ - for a sex dream/wet dream

How many times had he had dreams like this? Where the blood pooled between his fingertips and matted the white locks that he pet ever so gently. Robin was a pretty fox and like most pretty foxes- they get skinned and worn around some rich woman's neck. The killers fingers moved back to caress his face staring into those pretty green irises as if they were made of sea glass. He wanted to keep one. Yet even as the knife was pulled from his fiancé's ribs he never made a move for his face. Rocking their hips together like he could invade his wounds and know him deeper than he could ever know himself. It tasted sweet against his lips-

The killer's eyes slowly fluttered open at the sign of his alarm.... How unfortunate he was starting to like that one.

[monthofsick]

Nightmare before Halloween

Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 11: Unconventional receptacle

OCs: Thien, Tiago, Isaiah, Luka

This was the prompt that made me rack my brain for weeks. I really wanted the receptacle to be unconventional, but no idea seemed good enough - until Halloween came to the rescue. Finally, Thien has the dubious honor to get his own story after only being the designated sympathy puker twice.

TW: Vomit, severe ear infection, side effects of medication

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

Thien was determined. Frustrated, unnerved and tired, but still determined to make the most of this evening. He had been looking forward to Tiago’s Halloween party for weeks. His family was out of town, so the friends had an entire house as their private venue. During the spooky season, the cozy Almeida home turned into a dark and twisted witch’s cottage of unspeakable horrors. Painted wooden panels and countless decorations turned the facade into a gingerbread’s house evil twin. Human sized spiders, boiling cauldrons, treacherous witches and an entire army of skillfully crafted jack-o‘-lanterns both attracted and frightened every kid in the neighbourhood.

It didn't stop there – the inside was decked out with fake spider webs, bats hanging from the staircase, a skeleton relaxing in his rocking chair in front of the fireplace. Curtains and carpets were replaced with crimson and black velvet. Red window foil resembling stained glass transformed the living room into a haunting recreation of Prince Prospero's ill-fated costume ball from The Masque of the Red Death. There even was a mannequin dressed in a blood-stained funeral shroud and an ebony clock with an ominous chime.

Honestly, there was no better place to celebrate Halloween. Thien was a connoisseur of classic horror movies and he absolutely adored Vincent Price's performance as the depraved Prospero in the 1964 adaptation of Poe's grim tale. Watching it in a chamber that seemed to have sprung right out of the prince's abbey promised the ultimate immersive experience.

That was until Thien was struck with his very own horror story just a week before the long awaited festivity. He woke up in the middle of the night and scrambled out of bed to take a leak when suddenly, someone drove a power drill straight into his left ear. Thien doubled over, pushing both hands against his head in a desperate attempt to alleviate the sharp pain. When he finally managed to stagger to the bathroom, the floor under his bare feet felt unsteady like soft rubber.

The next morning, Thien woke up in a swimming pool of his own sweat. He wouldn't have believed that it was possible to drown in wet sheets, but his feverish body was determined to prove him otherwise. Freezing and sweating at the same time, Thien got himself some Tylenol and curled up on the couch with a fresh blanket. The fever wasn't impressed by the pill and neither was the stabbing pain in his ear. Thien was grateful that one of his flatmates changed his bedding, he was barely able to muster the strength to even get up again.

Dead tired, yet unable to sleep because of the red hot needle piercing his eardrum, Thien suffered through an unending night. Short fragments of fever dreams were more draining then restful. At dusk, he felt even worse than the evening before. An immense pressure had built up on the left side of his head, contrasted by sudden, intensely painful stings. Thien popped another pill, but it only hurt more and more. Overwhelmed by the certainty that his head was about to explode, Thien pressed his palm over the auricle and buried his face in the pillow. It was like an insane lobotomist hammered an ice pick deep into his ear until the pain reached an agonizing peak – and then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

At first, Thien couldn't help but sigh with relief as the pressure was released. A dull, indifferent earache remained, accompanied by a muffled buzzing. Then, to his dismay, Thien felt some kind of liquid dripping out of his ear canal. Teeth clenched, he struggled out of bed and was instantly hit by vertigo and nausea. Groping along the wall, Thien staggered into the bathroom. When he forced himself to look into the mirror, he saw a yellowish, mucoid substance leaking from his left ear. The sight was enough to make him gag.

It was probably the sign that a visit to the doctor was inevitable.

After shivering in the waiting room for half an hour, Thien was examined by an ENT specialist. She told him that he had a middle ear infection, which was rather uncommon in adults (not helpful) and had caused his eardrum to burst. At least it was a rather small tear that would probably heal up on its own. Thien was prescribed an antibiotic to kill the bacteria responsible for the infection and prevent them from spreading even further.

So it was back to bed with more Tylenol and his new best friend Amoxicillin. Thien had four days until the party to recover and he wanted to make the most of it. Like a model patient, he made sure to drink enough water and tea, took his medication exactly as described in the package leaflet, rested and slept as much as possible and even bribed his flatmates to provide him with healthy meals. The fever did, in fact, go down and after the third day, Thien's temperature was back to normal. A diffuse pain lingered in his ear and sounds were strangely muted on the left side. But overall, he felt a lot better.

Too bad that his stomach didn't like its microbiome-killing visitors. Nausea became Thien's constant companion, but it wasn't so severe that he couldn't keep the pill or his food down. Everything was somewhat tolerable, it just wasn't good. After bemoaning his fate for an hour or two, Thien decided to kick his own butt and went straight into determination mode.

Halloween was his night. So what if things weren't perfect, it wouldn't stop him from having fun. He could rest again the next day.

-

As impressive as the decoration had been in broad daylight, it paled compared to the spectacle revealed after dark. Flickering candles brought the jack-o'-lanterns to life. Smoke rose from the witch's cauldron and the bubbling brewage emanated an eerie green glow. The giant spiders were looking for their prey with menacing eyes glowing deep red. It was truly a sight to behold and instantly lifted Thien's spirits.

"Damn it, I thought you had to stay in bed", Tiago grinned while he greeted from the doorstep, right next to a large pumpkin with a particularly dreadful grimace. Upon closer inspection, the two of them could very well be brothers.

"Are you scared because I'm bringing the creepy stuff?" Thien raised his bag that was jam-packed with all kinds of horror movies, from cult classics to notorious shockers. "Don't blame me if you wet your sheets!"

"Ugh, leave me alone with your weird fetishes!" Tiago rolled his eyes, then stepped aside to let his friend into the small entrance hall. The lighting was dim and a huge spider web covered the entire coat rack. Thien left his jacket at the tiny bench next to the shoe shelf instead.

The only light source in the adjacent foyer – affectionately known as the batcave – was a blacklight that revealed grisly details hidden in seemingly harmless pantings. Another surprise that had been invisible by day. And then they finally entered the main attraction: the black chamber, formerly known as living room. Everything was draped in black velvet – the couch, the chairs, the table, even the walls. LED torches cast flickering scarlet light through the blood colored windows. The Red Death figure lured in the corner and the sinister ebony clock was about to toll the hour.

It was incredible.

"I… I don't even know what to say except that I ab-so-lute-ly love it!" Thien clasped his hands in excitement. The adrenaline rushing through his veins made him forget about his earache and the queasiness for a minute. "This is just perf-ohmygod!"

Thien jumped as he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders from behind. Someone let out a distorted scream that turned into laughter just a second later. As Thien whirled around, he looked into the delighted faces of Luka and Isaiah who had been hiding behind one of the velvet tapestries.

"Why are you guys such assholes?", Thien coughed, but couldn't hold back a laughter himself, both as an aftereffect of the scare and relief that he could actually be here. "I'll make you regret this! Especially you, Isa, your stomach is so weak when it comes to gore."

"Hey, I'm not that squeamish… anymore", the redhead objected.

"Well, good luck while you're munching on this." Tiago twisted his lips into a malicious grin and gestured towards the dinner table. It was, quite literally, a feast for the eyes. There was black bean stew with a sour cream spider web drawn on top. Round slices of pimiento-stuffed olives turned deviled eggs into eyeballs. Hot dogs were carved and decorated to look like severed fingers, ketchup blood dripping all over the buns. Cheese bread puffs were wrapped up in strings of dough like mummies and chocolate truffles wore bat wings. Black caipiroska was served in erlenmeyer flasks.

"That is honestly so freaking cute." With glowing eyes, Isaiah grabbed one of the bats.

"No, it's not!" Tiago was visibly shaken by so much ignorance. "It's scary and disgusting! Whatever, dig in. And don't blame me when someone gets poisoned."

The friends loaded their antique plates, then made themselves comfortable in the TV corner. Thien wasn't exactly hungry, but how could he resist such a variety of both mouth-watering and gross looking dishes? At least he wanted to try everything. He had even double checked if alcohol would clash with his antibiotics, which it didn't. However, Thien had no desire to get drunk. It wasn't an enticing prospect when he already felt dizzy and nauseous to begin with.

Just like Thien had hoped, the black room's ghastly atmosphere did wonders for the atrocities on screen. After reveling in the gloomy ambience for a while, Thien brought himself to start eating. He didn't have the strong aversion against food that came with a stomach flu, but his palate was definitely more picky. The bean stew was hearty and flavorful enough to intrigue his tastebuds. The deviled eggs were a bit much though. There was a spicy kick to the yolk paste, probably Tabasco sauce, that irritated Thien's upsets stomach. The small piece of olive was enough to leave a lasting aftertaste that curbed Thien's appetite significantly.

Nothing bad could be said about the mummy bread per se – it was gooey, soft and packed a cheesy punch. Thien couldn't put his finger on what exactly was off-putting about the small round of dough, but it left him with a nagging unease in his belly. Maybe that was the source of his sudden reluctance to try the bloody finger hot dog. The gloriously disgusting design was right up Thien's alley and he wasn't put off by fake blood, no matter if it was in a movie or on a bun. The smell of meat and nitrate, however, didn't exactly appeal to him.

This was perfectly normal food, he told himself. This was food he liked. But the beefy sausage didn't go well with the overly sweet ketchup and even after Thien had swallowed, it left an oily film in his mouth. Thien couldn't bring himself to finish the whole thing. He hoped that the chocolate treat would help him get rid of both taste and mouthfeel, but the gooey fudge mixed with the meat grease in a highly unpleasant way.

At this point, Thien was fed up with anything edible. He placed the plate on the floor next to his chair and sipped on the pitch black cocktail instead. The crisp and tart flavor was enjoyable, until Thien's tastebuds betrayed him again and reported an intrusion of nail polish remover. Thien frowned, put the flask away and hugged his abdomen. His insides felt raw and a burning sensation had taken hold of his stomach. Even focusing on the movie didn't make him feel better anymore. It was like half of the bites he took had been stuck in his throat, pushing against his uvula with every bobbing gulp.

Thien's saliva carried a faint aroma of beans and cheese and chocolatey hot dogs, which would have been repulsive even if the fluid hadn't flooded his mouth like it did. He couldn't help but wonder if his belly was scolding him with angry growls – the TV was loud enough to drown out every other sound, but Thien felt it rumble and churn under his grip. His body was moving towards a direction he didn't like at all and maybe it was already too late to turn back.

"Damn it, I'm about to burst!", Isaiah groaned, taking the words right out of Thien's mouth. "'xcuse me for a minute, I gotta make room for more."

"Open the window when you're done!" Luka demonstratively held his nose. Thien licked his lips nervously. Hopefully, Isaiah wouldn't take too long.

Except that he did. Of course. At least ten minutes passed and Thien's stomach was bubbling like the witch's brew in the garden. He sank deeper into his armchair, only to have the shift in pressure force a burp out of his overboiling gastric kettle. It tasted as bad as it felt, sour and acrid. Thien's sore throat constricted in sync with his contracting abdominal muscles. The abundance of alkaline spit left a bitter taste in his mouth that didn't go away as he swallowed frantically.

Thien had to admit that this wouldn't end well if he stuck to his strategy of watching and waiting.

Careful not to send an unintended evacuation order to his stomach, Thien pushed himself up and left the black room. He teetered through the batcave towards the guest toilet door in the entry hall. It was still locked and Thien heared Isaiah humming inside. He took a deep breath and knocked.

"Aren't you done yet?"

"Uhm… no? I would have left if I was, wouldn't I?" Isaiah wasn't wrong, but that didn't help Thien with his emergency. Hot bile crawled up his throat, burning it like a sandpaper scrub.

"Can you hurry up a bit?", he croaked after forcing the rancid fluid back down. "…please?"

"I can't, especially not if you rush me. Or listen." Isaiah let out an uncomfortable groan. "Privacy, please?"

"Sorry, but I really need to…" Just as Thien was about to explain his dire situation, he was cut off by an unannounced surge of vomit rushing up his esophagus. He tried to swallow it back down, but the stuff just kept on coming. Desperately, Thien clutched his mouth with both hands. There was no way to contain the flood, he needed something to be sick in, and he needed it right now.

The kitchen sink? Too far away, Thien would probably explode on the way and splatter the entire foyer floor with his undigested stomach contents. The umbrella stand? It did look kind of expensive and Thien hadn't forgotten how Tiago had freaked out about Isaiah barfing in his mother's car. Family possessions were serious business to him. In an act of sheer desperation, Thien ripped open the entrance door, fell on his knees and lifted the lid from the big jack-o'-lantern.

Gentle warmth caressed Thien's skin as his face came close to the candle. Then he parted his lips and extinguished the flame with a jet of puke spraying from his very own fire hose. He had not expected the sheer force of the expulsion. Every single muscle from his neck down the chest to his abdomen cramped spasmodically, causing his body to jerk with a violent recoil as more of his dinner gushed from his mouth. Thien caught his glasses just in time before they could fall into the fetid mess bursting out of him. With trembling fingers, Thien put them aside – he had no intention to take a closer look at the cascade of sewage water he spewed into the pumpkin.

The violent heaves made him even more lightheaded, which in turn increased his nausea. One of Thien's hands held on to the jagged edge of the jack-o'-lantern with such strength that his knuckles turned white. The other one pushed against his aching belly that was gripped by a wrenching pain with every single retch. After the first spontaneous projectiles, expelling the remains of his meal became a more arduous task. Each gag pushed the thick mush just a little bit further up his esophagus. The physical strain brought tears to his eyes and pierced his left ear.

Suddenly, Thien felt a hand patting his back.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" Isaiah's bad conscience couldn't have been more obvious in his facial expression than it was in his voice. "I should have let you in."

Thien was unable to reply, but the thumps on his back helped his body to push the sick over the threshold. He tensed with another heave before he finally threw up a chunky blend of beans and dough and truffle and sausage bites. It tasted absolutely vile as it pumped up his throat and spurted from his mouth, plopping into the vomit pool below him with moist splats.

"Yeah, get it all out, you got this", Isaiah cheered him on. His closeness and touch did make Thien feel better. He wasn't used to someone taking care of him when he was being sick and he had expected it to only add awkwardness to the physical discomfort. Actually, it helped him to relax a bit and just let things happen. As Thien's body punched itself in the gut again with a vigorous muscle contraction, he leaned into it and bent closer to the jack-o'-lantern. More of the food he had forced down against his better judgment made a noisy return through his gaping mouth.

The messy slop Thien hurled into the pumpkin wasn't the only pattering sound anymore. His vomit had reached the jack-o'-lantern's razor-toothed grin and poured out of the creature's mouth as well. When Thien was finally able to catch his breath, shakily wiping his lips, the ghoulish pumpkin he had infected still kept on barfing down the steps.

"Damn it", Thien croaked. "I didn't think it would be so much."

"It's not your fault." Isaiah still rubbed Thien's back, even though he had stopped puking. "I had no idea you were going to be sick. Sorry I took so long."

"You couldn't have known. Just when I tried to tell you, it all came up." Thien spat out to get rid of the horrible taste sitting comfortable on his tongue. "By the way, did you happen to see cleaning supplies in the bathroom? I'd really like to destroy the evidence before Tiago finds out about this."

"Before I find out about what?"

Both Thien and Isaiah spun around, startled. Tiago was towering over them, arms crossed. Luka peered through the foyer door, curiously watching the scene unfold. Thien sighed in defeat and buried the face in his hands.

"I – I'm so sorry about this", he mumbled against his palms. "It's the antibiotics. My stomach wasn't great the whole week, but I swear this never happened before. Maybe the food was too spicy… or it's getting worse. I just couldn't hold it in."

"So… technically it's Isaiah's fault again because he's the one who was blocking the restroom", Tiago concluded.

"Hey, that's not fair!", Isaiah protested. "Don't make me clean up again."

"Don't blame him, he's not a clairvoyant." With a deep sigh, Thien put his glasses back on and got up from the ground. He was barely standing when a loud scream from the street made him flinch.

A tiny scarecrow pointed at them, then waved at her friends Chucky and Pennywise.

"You gotta check this out!", the little girl squealed. "There's a puking pumpkin!"

"It looks so real!" Pennywise stared at the front door in awe. "Not just dumb seeds and that stringy stuff from inside."

Wide eyed and a bit bashful, the illustrious trio crept closer. Scarecrow raised both her sickle and her tin bucket.

"Trick or treat!", she screeched with a voice resembling nails on a chalkboard. That kid had definitely practiced the grand entrance. While Tiago grabbed the candy bowl that had been strategically placed in the shoe rack, Chucky leaned over to his killer clown friend and whispered:

"It even stinks. This house is the best."

Thien had to bite his lower lip – not because he was embarrassed or nauseous, but to desperately hold back a hysterical giggle. The pint sized horror creatures thanked their chocolate donors with some well-rehearsed poses that were definitely more adorable than scary, then they moved on. As soon as Thien and Isaiah had entered the house and Tiago had closed the door behind them, the friends broke into laughter. Even Tiago couldn't contain himself, although he didn't roll on the ground like Isaiah did.

"That was honestly the funniest shit ever", Luka spluttered, clutching his belly. "Ti, you know that you have to leave the stuff there. They're going to hype up every kid in the neighbourhood."

"Guess there's no need to fear monsters when you have friends like you", Tiago snorted, trying to regain control. "So what. You gotta do anything to one-up your neighbours. Now get your lousy asses back into the living room, we're gonna clean up later."

"We? Did you just say… we?" Thien smiled warily. "So you can be nice if you want to."

"Don't tell anyone or I make you wipe up that barf with your tongue. Understood?" Tiago shoved Thien in the direction of the guest toilet. "Now rinse out that mouth, your breath reeks of puke. And by the way, the only things you get for the rest of the night are tea and saltines."

Thien swallowed down the thank you he had on the tip of his tongue. But the fact that, of all people, Tiago headed to the kitchen to prepare some tea made him feel a little warm and fuzzy. Even though Thien hadn't quite forgiven his body for acting up at the worst time possible, at least it had made this Halloween a night to remember.

[sammyinhalloweentown]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight | Multi-Chapter Fic

A re-telling of ACOTAR (and a bit of ACOMAF) through Rhys POV when Feyre was looking and when she was not. What was our High Lord of Starlight scheming and thinking through it all?

The poor bastard barely had a break, that I can tell you.

Chapters: 4/?

The snow crunched softly under my feet as I walked through the woods. My feet sank in the cold of it and as I looked around there was nothing but barren trees, asleep, waiting for the spring to bloom again. It was foreign to me, nothing like the Illyrian war camps on winter. Those were just frozen mud and ice. Nothing like Velaris, or any place from home.

I didn’t exactly remember the last time I went to the Winter Court but this… wasn’t it either. The image wasn’t clear, like looking through a glass full of cloudy water, but the Winter Court had a certain freezing charm this place lacked. And the cold that bit at my face was nowhere near as bad as in those frozen lands.

I couldn’t use my magic, I couldn’t command my feet, it took me a while to realise that the body I was looking through wasn’t even my own.

The hands that weren’t my own raised into my vision field, holding a bow. Did I even know how to shoot one of these? It looked positively medieval. So simple, almost like a twig with a string, a bit pathetic even. What pulled my attention though were the hands. Human hands. Female human hands.

I pulled an arrow into the bow and was surprised it didn’t break in two, in my aim there was a rabbit. A poor little scrawny thing that, unfortunate to be out today, I thought as the arrow flew from the bow and straight into its head.

I woke up with the image still floating in my mind. I held on to it for a minute, I didn’t know who the girl was, I didn’t know if it was a full product of my imagination but anything, anywhere, was better than where I was. Usually, my dreams would be filled with gore and unbearable anguish, but tonight as brief as the image had been, it had been peaceful.

A rustle beside me and my eyes flew open, my muscles tensed but I forced an effortless looking grin on my face. I looked over but Amarantha was deep asleep still. An untamed sea of red, result of last night’s services, and her slightly open mouth made Amarantha’s usual imposing figure look nothing more than commoner from the lands south of the wall.

My face dropped. The bitch was so self-absorbed she fully believed my devotion, but she had been careful nonetheless, putting up wards so I couldn’t harm her, not mentally nor physically. The times I’d imagine sticking a dagger deep in her hollow chest, watching the blood pool at her feet, her eyes wide with surprise at the treason. No, not treason. The revenge.

All the games, all the schemes would be over. I could see my friends again, I could see my city again, my people. For them I did this, for them I would keep up the charade for as long as I had to. Amarantha’s whore. That was a stain I would not be able to wash off, but I bore it like I did any other conceived notion of my character.

Amarantha moved again in her sleep, and I decided I would not be here when she woke up. Moving swiftly, I returned to my quarters. I was on my way when I sent the silent request to Nuala and Cerridwen.

I didn’t see the twins but once in my room I could hear the bathtub filling and the scent of my favourite soap. The smell of sea and citrus was enough to help my tensed muscles relax a bit but only when I stepped into the tub, I was able to fully relax.

The water was almost too hot, it almost burned my unnaturally pale skin, but it was how I preferred it after a night with Amarantha. As if I could burn the stench of her off me, I could erase her touches off my skin. But I could always feel her anyway, like a phantom touch.

I grabbed the soap and I washed myself, letting my mind wonder back to that peaceful snowy forest.

It was at least another couple of hours before I was dressed in my usual dark Night Court pants, shirt and jacket and on my way to eat breakfast.

“Rhysand” Even just the sound of her voice was enough to bring my rage aflame, but I kept my face in a mask of almost bored and turned around to face her.

“My lady,” I bowed a bit and as she extended her hand. I held it and planted a kiss on her fingers, she would always offer the same hand where she wore Jurian’s eye, mostly to make everyone just a little bit more uncomfortable, I thought.

“When I call on you at night and I tell you to stay,” She started, her voice cold, her face twisted in annoyance. “I expect you to stay until morning.”

I am sorry were not words I could utter to the woman so instead I offered a half smile and said. “I will not repeat my mistake. I thought you’d want your privacy.” I bowed my head a little.

Amarantha slid her hand to hold my jaw, making me look her straight into her eyes, a grin grazing her lips. “If I want privacy, you’ll know.”

+++

I hadn’t thought much about that night until a few months later I had another glimpse during my slumber. I was lying down in a barn, feeling the cool, yet prickly hay under me. And just like that first time it was foggy and unclear and just like that first time it was over before it had really started.

I started looking forward to seeing more of this girl’s life after that night. A life that was normal and full of light. A life away from Amarantha and her cruelty. I don’t know if it was the eagerness in me to see more or the fact, I didn’t deserve to have that sort of solace but it took a couple more months before I was introduced to another glimpse into the girl’s life.

Starfall was approaching, there was no wishing to have the night off. Amarantha knew I’d want to go celebrate and as her personal little hell to me she would make me service her throughout the night. It was like that every year. I couldn’t leave Under the Mountain for some sun, much less for a celebration this important in my court. It was her way to remind me that I was not my own, I was hers. Amarantha’s whore.

This year, in particular, I felt she was trying to crack me even before Starfall. I was being summoned more often to her quarters and now, just hours before Starfall, here we were, standing in the throne room. The whole court under the mountain looked almost cheap to me, a mere imitation of my own court, the Court of Nightmares. Amarantha might have tried to recreate the imposing halls, and ominous energy of Hewn City, but side to side, this place was almost like a child’s playground.

She was sitting on her throne looking over her nose at the faerie before her on the floor begging for mercy. Jurian’s eye was looking between her and the faerie in a buzz until Amarantha clicked her tongue at it in warning, her patience was already low.

From my seat on the side of the room, I tried to look as disinterested as I could. The faerie, a lesser faerie, was from Spring Court and Amarantha wanted information on her beloved High Lord. The reasons why she was so infatuated with that repugnant nit, I never understood.

She wanted answers, information. Was Tamlin still sending sentries across the wall? Was any lady living in the manor with him? Any signs of rebellion?

I knew Tamlin would not turn on Amarantha on himself, he lacked the backbone to do so. But the faerie didn’t know anything and didn’t have any information to give.

I felt her attention on me even before her head turned, I stood on my feet and flicked a speck of dust off my jacket that wasn’t there and walked towards the faerie a small, predatory smile curling my lips. Amarantha was pleased, her lap dog didn’t even need commands anymore, she knew exactly what she wanted.

I slid my hands into my pockets as I walked towards the faerie, the room fell silent, I could hear my steps echo. The faerie was lying on the floor, their legs broken and turned in weird angles, a present from their captors no doubt. Barbaric.

The faerie was pulling themselves up on their hands and made an effort to turn towards the sound of my steps. As soon as their eyes landed on me there was a mix of fear and disgust crossing their features. Nothing I wasn’t used to. Lowering myself in front of the faerie, I instantly knew they were going to spit on my face.

Don’t. I said into their head, their shields non-existent. Give her something, even if a lie. Scream as if I am hurting you. I said and angled my head at the faerie who was now just looking utterly terrified at me.

“Rhysand.” Amarantha said impatiently. “I am extremely bored.”

I raised my eyebrows at the faerie, but they would still not react. Great. The hard way then. I straightened and stepped back. I grazed my talons at the faerie’s mind in a last attempt, but the faerie only shuddered and pressed their lips in a thin line.

Amarantha growled with impatience, and I knew what I had to do. A grasp on the fairie’s mind and a gentle squeeze and it was enough to make them squirm, scream and gasp.

I rummaged their mind for a bit of information that could be useful, the shrieks of the faerie making my muscles tense. Behind me, I didn’t need to turn to know Amarantha was smiling, finally amused.

“It doesn’t know anything.” I said in a calm bored tone. What I failed to tell her was that the faerie had seen sentries near the wall, which could mean Tamlin was still sending his men south of the wall. “The Attor picked a cave faerie, he doesn’t know anything about the Spring Court or its dealings.” Not entirely a lie.

I turned to face Amarantha who was once again not looking pleased. “Fine.” She said through gritted teeth. “Feed it to the Wyrm.” She waved and two of her cronies stepped forward to take the faerie, who thrashed and screamed as they were dragged out of the throne room.

The screams of the faerie were still audible though far and muffled when Amarantha curled her fingers in a summon. I let my lips curl into a smirk and slid my hands into my pockets before climbing to the dais.

Amarantha watched me carefully, leaning back on her throne and crossing one leg over the other. I couldn’t help but notice how vulgar she looked. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” She asked with that malice in her voice that churned my stomach in anger. She knew what night it was, she knew what I had to answer and what I wanted to answer.

“My plans are as you wished them to be.” I purred.

She hummed. “Good.” A grin. She had me in her hand. “Go wash the stench of that creature off you. I will want you tonight.” She said dismissing me. “The whole night.” She added as I bowed my head and started to walk away.

Another Starfall lost.

It all downed on me when I stepped into my room. Yet another faerie, tortured by me, another night with Amarantha being the whore everyone believed me to be. I sat in my bed, my head on my hands, the tears didn’t come but the tightness in my chest was as overwhelming.

This was never going to end. Amarantha had been ruling Under the Mountain, with our powers captive for forty eight years now and there was no end in sight. I had no hope Tamlin could break the curse, to get a female human to kill a faerie and then to make her fall in love with him? Someone with that much hatred in their heart for a faerie would never want to be north of the wall, would never fall in love with a faerie, and much less a High Lord.

It was then that I saw them. The flowers, the painted flowers along the drawer. It was still like looking through fog but I held on to the image, and for the first time it lasted a bit longer. I stood there, staring blankly at the floor as my mind travelled to that girl’s life, a life free of all this, of Amarantha. A life with laughter, I hoped, and happiness. I watched as she painted flowers on a drawer, a small smile curling on my lips, perhaps the first real one since I had been trapped here.

I watched as she finished and when I saw her grab another drawer to paint, I tried to push the image of the night skies of Velaris to her. She seemed to hesitate for a minute before grabbing some dark paint and painting the night sky on the second drawer. I watched and held on to that image, the peace it brought me was enough to endure the night ahead. And even though she would never know it, she would be what held me through the next couple of years.

Every time I’d wake up with a nightmare of Cassian or Azriel being, tortured, fucked, abused by Amarantha, or of Amarantha finding out Velaris and destroying it as I watched, or of her killing Mor and Amren (though I was not entirely sure that was possible), it was those glimpses, all of them compiled, that kept me going.

+++

“Let him go, you heartless bitch!” I roared but Amarantha only laughs. The laugh echoes around me and I still can’t move. I am being held by invisible ropes, my wings clipped. I thrashed to no avail, trying to free myself against the invisible forces. In front of me Cassian was nailed to the wall and Amarantha was taking her time torturing him.

With all the blood loss, Cassian looked pale. His head was half hanging, droplets of bright red blood dripping from his mouth, I could tell he was already half unconscious. Aramantha clicked her tongue and grabbed him by the hair pulling his head upright. “Come on, batboy… I was told you Illyrians could deal with much worse.” She purred. “Or… Are the bastards weaker?” She asked as she drove an ash dagger through one of Cassian’s open, pinned wings.

The scream that was produced by Cassian was positively chilling, my own wings almost recoiling at the sound.

“I think… I shall carve his wings out.” Aramantha said pensively. “I could display them along with your sister and mother’s.” She grinned at me, an evil grin.

Behind her Tamlin barked a laugh and I tried to get free again. “Let him go. Let him go. Let him go!” I kept repeating but it was like no sound was reaching her ears.

“Rhys…” Cassian rasped out. “Help me” He pleaded. I couldn’t do anything. I was utterly powerless.

Aramantha howled. “Your High Lord is useless, batboy. Only good for fucking…” She said as she grabbed a new blade and prepared to carve out Cassian’s wings. I looked at him in horror and he looked back at me desperately.

Before the blade of the dagger reached those membranous wings everything shifted. Suddenly Amarantha was no longer there, Cassian was gone too. I was no longer Under the Mountain. For a few seconds I was in darkness, dumbfounded, and then as fast as the darkness had set in new images formed around me.

There was a girl, a human girl… the girl. I couldn’t see her face, most of the details of her, but the rest of the scene was clear as the waters of the Sidra on a nice still winter morning in Velaris.

I realised I wasn’t watching the reality but a dream when I saw the girl being chased by what could be the Bogge. It was in a somewhat ethereal form, which meant to me that the girl hadn’t looked at it. She was running but it was like she could barely move from the place she was standing. The Bogge was whispering to her those chilling threats that they always had to offer.

I tried to step forward, kill the Bogge end her nightmare, though I was just a spectator, I couldn’t intervene. I was left there to watch as the girl was caught, not by the Bogge but by a woman I didn’t recognise, a high fae. I tried to scream this time, for her to punch her and get free, but no sound.

The female pulled out a knife and slowly slit the girl’s throat open.

Read full chapter on Ao3

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 2: Pool Parties and Good Punches

Raining Hellfire Series | Season One

Word Count: 9,432 words (I'm sorry)

Warnings: Swearing, trauma flashbacks- abusive relationship, violence (a school fight), just reader and eddie being shy and awkward, peer pressure, knife (Barb cuts her hand open), mentions of blood, reader taking paracetamol. - let me know if there are more

[A/N: I rarely proof read my stuff so just let me know if I'm terrible at spelling. Hope this story isn't too hard to follow along with]

Pool Parties and Good Punches

This is all your fault, Y/n

You did this

You’re crazy

Your eyes fluttered open as the sound of your alarm woke you.

You lay there staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before shutting off the alarm and making your way out of bed. You were so used to those dreams now that it didn’t phase you as much as it used to. No point living in the past anymore. At least that one wasn’t as bad as the rest.

After cleaning up last night’s dishes, you packed your bag and made your way to next door; you had promised Nancy you’d have breakfast with her. She knew you didn’t have much food in the house anyway but she also wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at her for Steve’s intrusion. If anything, you were just mad at Steve. Man, did you hate Steve.

Mike opened the front door, smiling at you, and led you to the dining room before rushing to the kitchen. Karen had already made you a plate of waffles and you smiled graciously at her as you took your place next to Nancy.

“Y/n, how did you sleep?” Karen asked, handing Nancy her plate. Karen was more of a mother to you than your own and you felt so lucky.

“Okay.” You responded, passing the syrup around the table.

“You need to tell me about that boy today, I am dying to know.” Nancy whispered, waggling her eyebrows and making you chuckle.

“What boy?” Mike asked as he sat on the opposite side to you, his mouth already filled with waffle as he attempted to finish his breakfast quickly. Where did he need to be so early?

“Slow down, Mike. That’s disgusting.” Nancy noted at her brother shovelling food into his mouth, barely leaving time to chew. Their constant bickering was normal in this house. It made you miss your sister even more.

“You do a lot of studying last night?” Mike asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He knew. Of course he knew.

“Yeah, actually, I did.” Nancy replied, narrowing her eyes at him. You took a bite of your waffle, already amused at the conversation.

“What was your test on, again?” Mike leaned in, “Human anatomy?”

You choked on your food, quickly gulping down the water in front of you as Nancy kicks Mike’s chair.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Karen asked. Oh, if she only knew.

“Nothing.” The three of you chorused, finishing your food and leaving before anyone asked any more questions.

As you and Nancy left, you saw Mike head towards the Wheeler basement. Curiosity filled your mind but you decided to leave him be. It can’t be easy knowing that one of his best friends might never come back.

As you entered school grounds, Barb joined you both and you all walked side by side into the building. Nancy, being her usual self, was still freaking out about the chemistry test despite the fact that she gets straight A’s without even trying. You, on the other hand, don’t. But you do well for yourself, still getting an A in certain subjects, maybe a B in others. You were smart, but Nancy was smarter.

“When alpha particles go through gold foil, they become…?” Barb quizzed, waiting for either of us to answer.

“Unoccupied space.” You and Nancy both said, high-fiving eachother with a smirk. At least you learnt something last night.

Barb flips to the next card, leaning on your locker.

“A molecule then can…” Barb started before the cards were snatched out of her hands and into the palms of Steve Harrington. Could he not interrupt at least one study moment?

“Hey!” Nancy objected, attempting to grab them back. As she did, your eyeline caught two more people stood beside him; Tommy and Carol. Shit.

Tommy and Carol were currently Hawkins High’s ‘it’ couple. They have apparently been dating since the 7th grade and, according to Barb, have been doing the nasty since then. They were the actual worst, in your opinion. Even worse than Harrington. In fact, Steve had been a nice guy until he met those two. And those two really didn’t like you.

That became apparent when Carol gave her signature glare in your direction. You just stood next to Barb and attempted to disappear. You weren’t in the mood.

“I’m telling you, you know, you got this. Don’t worry.” Steve said, almost making you believe that he was a good boyfriend, “Now, on to more important matters.”

Yep, there it is.

“My dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, you know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call.” Tommy nodded, patting his back.

“So are you in?” Steve was staring at Nancy, trying to get her to come to yet another party that she hates.

“In for what?” Nancy was clearly oblivious and very confused.

“No parents? Big house?” Carol tuned in, clearly irritated at Nancy’s innocence.

“They want you to go to a party.” You told Nancy, swinging open your locker to grab your chemistry book. You knew you weren’t allowed to have it during a test but you could at least flip through on your way.

“Ding, ding, ding, ding!” Carol’s annoying voice spoke, mocking your remark.

You shot a hateful glare towards her and slammed your locker shut. If you stayed any longer, Carol’s ‘daddy’ would have to find a new plastic surgeon to fix her nose.

“I’ll see you in Chem.” You said, shoving your book in your bag; you had learnt from yesterday’s collision.

“Leaving so soon, Y/n?” Tommy asked, smirking at you. He and Carol have hated you since your first day here. Mostly because they’re assholes. Also because you made it very clear to them that you’d rather be stuck in a box with a honey badger than be friends with them.

“You should come to the party too. And Barb.” Carol chimed in, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face that you desperately wanted to slap.

“No thanks.” You mumbled, saying goodbye to Barb and walking away from the group.

As you walked further up the hallway, you saw Jonathan struggling with some posters, attempting to pin a poster to the board while balancing the rest in his arm. You immediately walked over and held the sheets of paper for him and he gave you a sad yet grateful look.

He pinned one onto the board and then you saw it.

‘HAVE YOU SEEN ME?’ the poster read, with a picture of Will smiling below it. Your heart ached.

"Does the cheif have any leads?" You asked him, still staring at the photo.

“Other than finding his bike… no.” He looked at the photo for a moment before turning to you, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” You said, handing him the pile of paper, “You know that if you ever need anything you can just ask me, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Now go, I heard you have a chemistry test.”

“Oh shit, yeah. I’ll see you in photography?” The was an unevenness to your voice as you were unsure if Jonathan would even want to be here today.

“Maybe. I need to get these posters around town.” And he moved on to the next board, letting you go.

You could hear Carol’s shrill voice ring out as she noticed Jonathan. You knew Nancy wouldn’t let anything bad happen so you continued to class, willing the day to be over.

Sitting down at lunch with Nancy, you both told Barb about the test. You thought it went well, even when your mind decided to drift away from the test onto other matters.

“So, are you guys coming to the party?”

You and Barb groaned. You had hoped saying no once was enough.

“We’ve been over this Nance.” You said, finishing your sandwich. Mrs Wheeler always packed an extra lunch bag for you since she worried that your uncle wouldn’t feed you. It was nice, having someone care for you.

“Pleaaaaaase.” She pouted, “I don’t want to go alone.”

“Then don’t go.” You countered.

“But you won’t be alone, your boyfriend will be there.” Barb stated, grinning.

“He’s not-” Nancy started.

“Yes he is.” You both finalised, stopping Nancy’s speech.

“Look, I would go but I really don’t want to spend time with Tommy and Carol. You know how they treat me.” You said. You had been their prey for last year now. Sure, they hated you when you rejected them after seeing how they treated other people but last year, after Steve chose them, they used you as their personal punching bag. Emotionally and physically.

“I know and I’m sorry.” Nancy took your hand. She knew that they didn’t like you, but she still didn’t have a clue what they did to you. It wasn’t something you wanted to bring up. “But I promise, I will be there with you the entire night. Tommy and Carol will probably be off somewhere getting drunk and making out the entire night anyway.”

“Wow, yeah, the party sounds unmissable.” Barb snorted, causing you all to laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Nancy pleaded. You could see how nervous she was for this party.

“I’ll go if Y/n goes.” Barb spoke, pointing at you.

“Ugh. Fine.” You said, rubbing your temple. At least if Barb was there, you could just hang out together away from the rest of the group.

“Yay!” Nancy squealed, pulling you into a hug.

“Yay! What are we celebrating?” Steve sat down next to Barb, facing Nancy. It’s like he does this on purpose.

“Y/n and Barb have agreed to come to the party.” Nancy said, smiling. You knew Steve didn’t actually want you there, but considering how excited she looked, he chose not to be a prick.

“Good. It’ll be fun.” He smiled, looking at you.

“Sure.” You looked down, fiddling with your denim vest. The vest was the only piece of clothing that wasn’t completely new. Even if you wanted to forget California, the vest held too much sentimental value to you to just let it go.

You heard a laugh from behind you and saw Carol walking over, Tommy following. Looking at Barb, she nodded and you both began to pack your things.

“Look who’s here.” You heard her say and you froze. Was she talking about you?

You turned to meet her eyes but instead found she was facing away from you, gaze drawn to a group of people sat further up the field. You craned your neck to see that they were some people you know, mostly outcasts that got bullied a lot. They were all laughing and looking to the centre of the group and soon enough you found the source of their laughter. A boy in a dark jacket with messy hair that fell to his shoulders, a wide grin on his face.

Eddie.

“Can we just have one lunch without you yelling at ‘The Freak’?” Steve sighed. He genuinely looked tired of them. Serves him right for choosing them, you thought.

“You know you love it, man.” Tommy laughed, already making his way over. A few other people that you assumed were his friends clocked on and joined him, the hoard heading towards Eddie and his group.

“What’s happening?” You asked Steve. He looked up in surprise to see you were asking him.

“Well-”

“Eddie Munson is a freak who messed with the wrong people.” Carol declared, cutting Steve off and leaning over you. “I guess you know all about what happens when you mess with the wrong people.”

“What?” Nancy asked. She genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Oh it’s just an old inside joke, right Y/n?” She sang, daring me to speak with her glare.

“Right.” You gritted your teeth and Carol walked over to the other group.

Your eyes drifted to Steve who was already looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite figure out. Was it… empathy?

“Why do they hate Eddie?” Nancy looked at Steve.

“All I know is he and Tommy have had it out for eachother since the 7th grade.” Steve shrugged. He was obviously hiding something.

As you looked over to Eddie you saw that he was still sat with his friends, clearly bored of whatever Tommy was saying. It made you smile, seeing that he really couldn’t care less.

“Tommy makes his own reasons.” You muttered beneath your breath. If anyone heard you, they pretended not to.

Barb suddenly stood and excused herself, saying she needed to get to the library for a book report. You knew she had finished that ages ago, you were there with her, but you understood that she just didn’t want to hang around much longer.

Just as you were coming to the same decision, yells filled the field, guys chanting ‘Tommy’ over and over again. Your head spun back around and although they were now all huddled around whatever was going on, you could just see between two people. Tommy was swinging his arms.

And Eddie was on the floor.

“Shit.” Steve breathed. But he didn’t move. He must have been thinking how he couldn’t stop it if he tried.

You, on the other hand, didn’t make the same assumption.

You sprung up from your seat, dumping your bag on the ground and quickening your pace, ignoring the protests from your friend. You barged your way through the group (you may be small but you were much stronger than you looked), and found Tommy stood over Eddie, raising his leg to bring his sneakers down onto his face. Wordlessly, you marched behind him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him away from Eddie before he could do any permanent damage.

“What the fuck?” He said before realising who had ruined his moment.

“Leave him alone.” Usually situations like this would intimidate you. But for some reason, there was this fire ignited inside you. You were prepared to fight.

“Do you really want a piece of this, huh?” He laughed, raising his hand. Whether he was going to push you or slap you, he didn’t get the chance.

You ducked, springing back up and connecting your fist with Tommy’s jaw. Something you had learned back in California.

“Fuck!” He yelled while stumbling, the group now jostling at eachother in amusement. This only angered him.

He was quick with his action, catching you off guard and bringing the back of his hand across your cheek with so much force, you were thrown to the ground.

The piercing sound of ringing in your ears caused you to still your movement and you could hear voices yelling, you recognised three of them.

“What the hell asshole?” You heard Eddie yell, back on his feet.

“That was too far man, back off.” Steve’s voice was a surprising one.

“Oh my god Y/n, are you okay?” Nancy was crouched beside you, doing her best to help you get up.

“Fuck this, let’s go Carol.” Tommy said while leaving, the chanters quietening down but not leaving. They were all staring at you, some shocked, some laughing.

“Hey, are you-”

You didn’t know who was asking but you didn’t care. Right now, your head pounded with memories forcing their way into your mind.

“Just leave me alone.” You ran from the group, having to bump shoulders with people to get out of their poorly structured circle, and sprinted inside the building, clutching your cheek.

“He treats you like shit, Y/n.” Your best friend was angry. She just witnessed the fight between you and your boyfriend. You weren’t even sure you ever called him that.

“I’m fine.” You said shakily as she held the icepack to your head.

“You are not fine! He just hit you! In front of everyone!” She yelled, your headache worsening with each exclamation.

“So?” You yelled back, tears forming, “It’s none of your business!”

“I’m your best friend! You need to listen to me!”

“Listen to you? The girl who can never convince a guy to even like her much less kiss her?! What possible advice could you even give me?”

Her face dropped. She threw the ice pack at you and left.

“Shit.” You wince as you use a paper towel to clean your face. Tommy wore a ring, supposedly a commitment to Carol. Such bullshit.

You did your best to clean the cut up, ignoring the bruise already forming on your cheek. After you left, you had ran across the school to the furthest bathroom. It wasn’t ever used since it was too far from anyone’s classes. It was situated next to the locker room which already had it’s own bathrooms attached. More money wasted on something people don’t use, you guessed.

Running probably wasn’t the best option. Nancy would be freaking about now with Steve trying to calm her down. And Eddie… you don’t know how Eddie would be reacting. You had one conversation. Granted, it was amazing, but you didn’t know each other. Not really.

The bleeding stopped and you thanked the lord that the cut was smaller than you thought, meaning it would heal without much help. You wanted to cover it just in case. You went to grab a plaster from your bag before realisation struck. Fuck. You left it on the bench.

A sigh left your lips as you figured Nancy would have grabbed your bag for you. You had plans to have dinner with her family and the boys later on. As much as you wanted to skip it, you promised Dustin that you’d be there.

Tears began to fall, hitting the ceramic sink with small pats. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Maybe you deserved this. All of it.

“Hey babe.” Your boyfriend said casually, as if he hadn’t just slammed your head into the wall an hour ago.

You stayed silent, making him look up. He was handsome, there’s no denying that. He knew exactly what to do to keep you running back to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry baby, I’m really sorry.” He kissed your forehead gently. You knew he wasn’t sorry, he just wanted forgiveness anyway. And you gave it to him. Every single time.

“Have you seen Lillian?” You ask quietly, you hadn’t seen your best friend since she ran off earlier.

“Nah, but listen, we’re still going to that party tonight right?” He didn’t care.

“I mean-”

“Come on, it’s a celebration. Do it. For me?”

“Okay.” You didn’t even think about the response. There was no point arguing with him, he always won.

“Good, now let’s get ready, yeah. Can’t be late to your own birthday.”

“Fuck birthdays.” You muttered as you left the bathroom and walked down the deserted hallway.

You never actually told anyone when your birthday was. The last time you celebrated, everything went to shit so you’d rather just let the day pass like every other day. It was bad enough that you were going to a party later tonight as well. You’re definitely going to cancel that one.

It had been 3 years since that night, something you’d rather just forget.

You noticed a familiar poster on the wall outside the gym, Will’s sweet smile looking back at you. Someone had written something you can only describe as disturbingly homophobic all across the poster. You ripped it down, discarding it in the bin. Assholes. Will was missing and yet people still found a way to ridicule him.

Turning the corner, you halted, your shoes giving a loud squeak as you barely avoided yet another collision. You needed to start taking those corners carefully.

“Sorry.” You both said before recognising eachother’s voices.

“Y/n.” Eddie said, eyes widening as he focused on your cheek. It was probably bright red and still bleeding.

“I need to find my bag.” You muttered, moving past him. You’d rather talk to Eddie when you weren’t a complete emotional wreck.

“Hey, wait.” His hand was on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. “Wheeler. She has your bag. Everyone got to leave early since the tests were over and the principal has a lot of people to deal with for the whole fight thing.” He waved his hand in the air, as if he was swatting away the thought.

“Oh. Okay. I should probably head to hers then.” You were about to turn when something struck your mind. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Uh… no, not really. Me and the Princi? Oh we’re best mates. She’d never let me get in trouble.” He smirked, leaning on the wall beside him.

“You didn’t get caught did you?” An entertained smile appeared on your face.

“Ah, well, no. The majority of people didn’t even know my actual name so he has no clue.” He chuckled, amused that you figured it out that quickly.

You nodded and started to worry. Were you going to get in trouble too?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine too.” Eddie reassured, reading your mind. He was still staring at your cheek.

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay.” You say, covering your cheek with your hand. “I’ve had worse.”

“Seriously?” Eddie’s face grew with concern.

“Um, well, yeah. Not from Tommy.” You added, hoping it would help. It didn’t.

“Someone else hurt you?” His voice raised and you winced. You screwed up.

“What? No, it was just stuff that happened. Like, I’ve hurt myself. But not in that way! More like, falling over, you know and, uh, running into walls, I don’t know.” You rambled.

“And colliding foreheads?” Eddie smirked. He liked it when you rambled.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy laugh.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His eyes were on the floor, feet shuffling.

“Do what?”

“Stop Tommy.” His voice was quiet but he still managed to look at your eyes when he spoke.

“Oh. It was nothing.” You reply, brushing it off.

“Nothing? You look like you went through a battle with a demogorgon!”

“A what?”

“It’s a monster from D&D… it’s not important. What’s important is that I wanted to say thank you. You barely know me and you almost punched Tommy’s lights out.”

“That was more for me than it was for you.” You both laughed. “I hate seeing how he treats other people. I’d do it again for you… and other people, I mean. I’d gladly beat up another… demogorgon.”

“Not for yourself?” His question surprised you. He wasn’t wrong.

“Depends on the day.” You smile. The bell rang like it always did, even though you were pretty sure everyone was home already.

“I need to…” You pointed to the doors and he nodded, stepping aside to let you go.

“Farewell Y/n, the queen of demogorgons, No Last Name.” He bowed, making you giggle.

“And farewell to you, Eddie, the king of freaks, Munson.” You laughed, noting his wide grin at your nickname.

You walked away, a little happier than before.

You headed home, pedalling on your bike. It usually was a nice ride, you’d be listening to your favourite songs on your Walkman while enjoying the fresh air hit your face. But today, every muscle ached as you rode in silence, hissing at the pain of the wind whipping your face.

You dropped your bike in front of your house and walked over to the Wheelers’, knocking the front door. You didn’t think Nancy would be home yet. Steve probably convinced her to go somewhere else.

Karen opened the door, smiling and then frowning when she saw the bruise.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright? Why aren’t you in school? Come in, come in.” She said hurriedly, ushering you inside and cupping your face in her hands.

“There was a fight at school so everyone was sent home early.” You admitted, waiting for her to stop scanning your face.

“Is that where you got this bruise? Oh, and that cut!” She winced when she saw the small red line on your face, leading you to the bathroom upstairs.

You heard movement from behind you, turning to look when Karen noticed.

“Oh, Mike came home early today. I think he’s having a hard time about Will.” She said quietly, answering your thoughts.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub and she opened the cupboards, grabbing a first aid kit and rummaging through it until she found what she was looking for. She brought over a small bottle and some cotton ball, placing some plasters beside you.

“Okay, let’s see.” She held the cotton ball to the bottle lid and tipped it, setting the bottle down and moving the ball to your cheek. “This is gonna sting a little.”

She expected you to wince at the pain, hence why she took her time applying it. To her confusion, you didn’t have a reaction. Yes, it hurt. But you were used to it.

“What happened?” She asked sternly, looking into your eyes, “Was it that fight?”

You really didn’t want to lie to her. She had been nothing but kind to you, she treated you like you were her own. But you also didn’t want her to find out. Who knows who she’ll tell. Maybe you’d get sent away again.

“Oh, no, not really. People were running to see what the fight was and someone bumped into me so I fell.” The lie tasted bitter as you spoke.

“Some people.” She tutted, believing you. The fact that she believed you without a second thought made you feel even worse.

She grabbed a plaster and carefully placed it.

“There! Good as new!” She smiled, “I’ll go grab some ice.”

She quickly got up and made her way downstairs. You stood and looked at yourself in the mirror, moving your hair to cover your plastered cheek. At least Tommy has a wicked bruise too.

In the hallway, you could hear the phone ring and Mrs Wheeler’s cheery voice that answered. You figured it’d be a while for the ice. As you were about to head downstairs, another voice caught your attention. It came from down the hall, behind a door you knew as Mike’s room.

“Is everything okay?”

That was definitely Mike’s voice. Surely he wasn’t speaking to you. He continued speaking and you crept closer, curious at his behaviour. Maybe Lucas or Dustin was there. You stopped. No, it’s none of your business; something what you decided and readied yourself to continue to the stairs.

And then that’s when you heard it. The sound of muffled cries. They weren’t loud, but you knew the sound of crying. You’d spent so many nights hearing your sister’s cries as your father upset her yet again.

You rushed over, opening the door just as a small voice spoke up.

“Promise.”

Opening the door, two sets of eyes flew to you. One belonged to Mike and the other… to a girl?

She had a buzz-cut and was wearing a navy jumper and grey sweats. Were they Mike’s? When she looked at you, she had an expression you know all too well written on her face: fear.

“Y/n!” Mike harshly whispered, running to the door and closing it while you stood there dumbfounded.

“What- what’s going on? Who is she? Does your mom know?” You had so many questions.

“I’ll tell you if you’re quiet, I don’t entirely know and… no.” Mike answered all your queries, looking worried.

“Okay.” You said, causing the boy’s worry to turn to confusion.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” The small girl whispered, looking at Mike who nodded back.

“She’s a friend.” Mike assured, walking back over and crouching next to the girl.

“El, this is Y/n. That girl you saw in the photo downstairs.”

“Pretty.” She said and Mike nodded.

When he saw how weirded-out you looked, he explained everything to you. How they all found her in the woods and took her here. How she’s been staying in the basement. How she might know where Will is.

It was a lot for you to process. You were sure Karen was still on the phone so you sat on Mike’s bed to take it all in.

“And you don’t know where she came from?”

Mike shook his head, looking at El.

“Why haven’t you told your mom?” It was a good question, she might know how to help her.

“No.” The girl said simply, shaking her head slowly and she looked as if she would start crying again.

“Look,” You said, making your way off the bed to crouch at a distance in front of her, “I promise you I only want to help.”

“Promise?” The girl repeated.

“Yes.”

“We can’t tell my mom Y/n, El says that there are bad men after her.” Mike spoke, inching closer to you.

“Did they hurt her?” You ask, suddenly upset for this girl.

“I think so.” He nodded, looking back at her.

“Okay, look, I won’t tell your mom.”

“You won’t?”

“No. But you have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You tell me everything. If she really knows where Will is, I want to help. And I don’t want any arguments from any of you on this, I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Mike silenced for a while, thinking it over. Glancing at El, she nodded back at him with a smile and he sighed.

“Okay.” El said, moving closer to you, “Y/n.”

You smiled at her, worry filling your heart. Maybe whatever happened to this girl might be what’s happening to Will right now.

“Y/n?” Karen’s voice rang out and you jumped up.

“Okay I need to go. I’ll make sure your mom is distracted but I need you to stay here and call the Party over. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

Mike nodded, seeing no reason for an argument, and you left to collect your ice pack. You had a feeling you were going to regret this.

You were sat on Mike’s bed with El when Lucas and Dustin arrived. Since they were already coming for dinner, you didn’t need to make any excuses.

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas asked Mike, returning to staring at you and El.

“El and Y/n are in your room.” Dustin stated. He was in some sort of shock, either because you now knew about El or the fact Mike has girls in his room. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

“Just listen to me.” Mike walked to Lucas, trying to calm him down.

“You are out of your mind!” He raised his voice, causing everyone to shush him.

“She knows about Will.”

“What do you mean she knows about Will?” Dustin snapped back into reality.

“She pointed at him, at this picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell.” Mike held a photo of Will at the science fair to his friends.

“You could tell?” Lucas was clearly very sceptical. You didn’t know why he disliked El so much.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where Will disappeared?”

“That is weird.” Dustin agreed.

“Wait, when did you guys go out to Mirkwood?” You asked only to be completely ignored. El grabbed onto your arm for comfort. You placed your hand over hers. She reminded you of your sister.

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike continued. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will. I think she knows what happened to him.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas counters, clearly frustrated. He made his way to the bed, staring at El.

“Do you know where he is?”

Before you could stop him, Lucas grabs El by her shoulders and begins shaking her.

“DO YOU KNOW WHERE WILL IS?” He yells and you grab his hand and push him away from her.

“Stop it Lucas!”

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!”

El cuddled into you and you put her arms around her in attempt to shield her from Lucas. You knew he was upset about Will, but he needed to calm down. As you were comforting El, you snapped back into conversation when Dustin raised his voice too.

“Mike, what kind of danger?”

“Danger, danger.” Mike’s face was so serious it sent a chill down your spine.

“No, no, no! We’re going back to Plan A. We’re telling your mom.” Lucas panics and rushed for the door.

It slams shut.

He opens it again.

It slams shut, and you hear the locks engage.

“Guys?” You say, now staring at El who had left your side.

They all turn in unison to look at her, the girl had her arm outstretched with a line blood dripping from her left nostril.

“No.” Was all she spoke.

“I don’t want to drink.” You complained as your boyfriend handed you another cup. You had only just turned 14, much like every one else at the party, and you didn’t feel like underage drinking this early on.

“We’re just celebrating.” He smirked, bring his own cup to his lips while tipping yours toward your mouth with his other hand.

“Stop.” You stepped back, placing the cup down and noticed Lillian was on the other side of the pool. You were about to walk over when you felt a surge of pain through your right arm.

“No.”

Once Nancy made it home, you left El and the boys in Mike’s room. As much as you wanted to learn more, Nancy deserved an explanation for earlier.

You were sat in her room as she arrived and as soon as she saw you she ran to you, hugging you.

“What the hell Y/n? I was so worried, I couldn’t find you after the whole thing. Oh my god, look at that bruise.” She grabbed your face and you winced, causing her to drop her hand and send an apologetic look your way.

“I’m fine, Nance. I’m sorry I didn’t stay but everyone was staring at me and I… panicked. I wasn’t really thinking. I’m just embarrassed. I even told your mom that someone had bumped into me and I fell.” You grimaced.

“And she believed it?” She raised an eyebrow as you nodded.

“Why did you do that?” She asked.

“Well I was scared that if I told her the truth-”

“No, not that. Punch Tommy.”

“Oh. I… have… anger issues?” You smile a weird grin and she laughed, pushing your arm.

“Be serious. I have to admit I didn’t like what he was doing, especially to the Munson guy, but why would y-” Her eyes widened and she smiled.

“What?”

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“The guy. The one you were gonna tell me about.”

“No…”

“Oh my god, it so is! It’s written all over your face! You know you can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Yeah you’re right.” You laughed. It wasn’t true. You’ve kept many secrets. You were just really good at convincing people you were a terrible liar.

“Wow. And you punched Tommy for him.” She turned her head to look out the window lost in thought. “It was a good punch too.”

She started laughing, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles as well.

“Maybe… you can call him and invite him for the party tonight.” She suggested, walking towards her wardrobe.

“What? Okay, firstly… I don’t even have his number. And secondly, there’s no way I’m going to that.”

“Why not?”

You just pointed to your face and she laughed. Rude, you thought.

“Sorry I’m not laughing at you it’s just- Tommy and Carol aren’t coming anymore.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, after the fight Steve told them that they should probably stay home.”

“He did?”

“Uh-huh.”

Nancy threw around some outfit ideas from the back of her wardrobe. She really wasn’t a party girl so she didn’t really have anything flashy. You couldn’t see Steve disinviting his social godparents, especially not for you.

“Oh. Barb might not come so it’s you and me.”

“What? No. I’m not going if Barb’s not going. I’m not gonna sit there by myself while you and Steve trade saliva.”

“We won’t- okay look, I’ll call her and let her know that you’re okay and convince her to come with us.” She said cheerily.

“Good luck with that. I’m gonna go see if your mom needs help.” She was still fixated on her outfit choices so you left, walking down to the kitchen.

Karen told you she was fine so you could just relax until dinner. You didn’t really want to walk back to Nancy’s room to talk about the party, plus she was already on the phone with Barb, so you made your way outside to sit on the porch. The sun was just beginning to set and you rested your arms on your knees looking to the sky.

You were worried that sitting by yourself would bring back old memories you didn’t want but instead, your mind just went to Eddie. You blocked out all the bad by just thinking of his smile, the way he folds his arms across his body. The fact that he smelt of green apples was now etched into your brain. How is that even possible? You were slowly becoming obsessed with this boy and he probably wasn’t thinking about you at all.

“Barbara, pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over!”

You had ended up in the back of Barb’s car on the way to Steve’s ‘party’. Nancy somehow convinced Barb to come, meaning that you had to come too. And now Nancy was screaming at Barb to stop the car randomly. Thank god you took painkillers for your cheek before you left.

“What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.” Barb complained, irritated by this party already.

“We can’t park in the driveway.”

“Are you serious?” Barb sighed.

“Yeah, the neighbours might see.”

“You’re making me walk three blocks to a party I didn’t want to go to?” You moaned, your head hitting the back of Barb’s headrest.

“This is so stupid. I’m just going to drop you off.”

“Calm down, guys, come on! You both promised that you’d go. You’re coming. We’re going to have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.” Barb said, making you laugh.

“Ain’t that the truth.” You chimed in.

“No he doesn’t.” Nancy giggled.

“You are so oblivious, it actually hurts.” You said. What a way to spend your birthday.

“All right, well, you can be like my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“If I wanted to babysit, I’d have stayed home with your brother.” You told her as she glared at you.

Nancy shuffled around to change her shirt. She had finally decided what she wanted to wear but didn’t want to be seen in it since she lied to her mom about her plans. You didn’t know how she lied with such ease. Must be something she learnt from Steve.

“Is that a new bra?” Barb said, eyeing her friend’s new lingerie.

“No.” She replied, pulling her shirt on.

“Yeah, right.” You sighed, opening the car door.

RAISE A LITTLE HELL

RAISE A LITTLE HELL

You all could hear the music blaring from Steve’s house as you walked up the driveway.

“Yeah, because us parking our car in front of his house would be the problem.” You remarked, earning a snort from Barb as you walked to the front door.

“Barb, chill.” Nancy said. You’ve never seen her more calm.

“I’m chill.” Barb spoke. She clearly wasn’t.

“Be like Y/n.”

“Y/n is hopped up on pain meds, I’m not so lucky.”

You laughed as the doors swung open, filling your ears with the noise of blasting music while Steve stood there smiling.

“Hello ladies.”

You all walk in to his house, Barb and Nancy gawking at the size of it. You, on the other hand, had already seen his house. Long forgotten times.

“So, before we begin… there was a change of plans.” Steve said, looking at you and waiting for you to turn back to him.

“Huh?” What did that have to do with you?

“Uh…” Steve looked awkward. That’s not good.

“Hola loves!” A chill went down your spine. Carol.

Carol walks in, clutching onto Tommy and they were both very drunk.

“Yay, Y/n. I knew you’d show up.” She hiccuped, trying to hug me. You side-stepped, dodging her embrace, and tried to go back through the doors we came in.

“Wait, Y/n.” Steve said, coming over to you. “Hey Nance, why don’t you and Barb go out back, we’re gonna be by the pool.”

“Sure.” Nancy said, an uncertainty in her voice as the girls followed Tommy and Carol through the house.

“What the hell, Steve.” You breathed. It wasn’t a question, just anger.

“Look, I know I said they wouldn’t be here but they just showed up and I couldn’t get rid of them. Believe me, I tried. I don’t want them here.” Steve confessed. He held onto your shoulders so you couldn’t move away.

“You’re expecting me to believe that you don’t want them here? You practically worship them.” You scoffed, removing his hands.

“Yeah, well, I used to.” He muttered. He spoke before you could. “Hey, just stay. Please. I know Nancy wants you here. Tommy and Carol are drunk off of their minds and will probably end up banging in a room the entire night so you don’t need to deal with them, okay?”

“Wow, you make it sound so appealing, Harrington.” You rolled your eyes. Was he actually trying to protect you?

“Fine.” You finally said, “But I’m leaving as soon as they so much as look at me.”

You walked off to join Nancy and Barb outside, Steve following you. When you stepped out onto that deck though, you suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore. You’ve seen Steve’s pool before, you came here when you both had a group project in Freshman year. He had offered since you were nervous about bringing him to your uncle’s place. But at night, with the pool lit up and the sky painted with stars, it looked all too familiar.

“What do you want, Y/n?” Your best friend sounded fed up already, taking a sip from her cup.

“I just wanted to say sorry.” You said, eyeing her cup. She never drank.

“Well I don’t want an apology.” Her words were slurred and she spilt some of her cup.

“Woah, what are you drinking?”

“Whatever the hell I want.”

“Maybe you should slow down, you haven’t drank before.”

“Why? Because I’m a prude for not banging my abusive boyfriend when I’m only 14, huh?” Her words stung your heart, tears threatening to spill.

“What the fuck?” Your voice quivered and she just laughed.

“You act like it’s all about you, Y/n. Try caring about someone else for once in your miserable life.”

And with that she walked to the other side of the pool, stumbling along the way as you filled up your own cup and drank the feelings down like your life depended on it.

“Y/n!” Barb signalled you to join her on the other side of the water, away from the others. You sent a grateful smile as you sat beside her, removing your shoes and socks to place your feet in the pool.

For a while, you and Barb just watched as the others chugged beers, Nancy stood with Steve’s arms around her. It tugged at your heart to see two people like that.

“I’m glad you came.” Barb said, breaking the silence.

“I wouldn’t have come if you weren’t here.” You admitted, bumping her shoulder.

“Yep the dynamic duo, third wheel and fourth wheel, back at it again.” You both laughed. You liked Barb. She might not be the party type but she always knew how to make any situation fun.

“Why did we agree to this?” You ask as Tommy picks up Carol for the 50th time tonight, threatening to throw her in the pool while Steve and Nancy sat on deck chairs side by side.

“Clearly, we’re idiots.”

“Good hypothesis.” You smiled, looking at the water.

“Oh, and Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Birthday.”

That startled you. She giggled at your reaction, leaning in closer to you.

“You’re one of my best friends, you didn’t think I’d find out?”

“How-”

“Miss Markle gave me the keys to the library since I’m always there helping her out. Gave me access to a few school documents.” She smirked.

“Wow. And here I thought the other one was Nancy Drew.” You laughed awkwardly.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Barb placed her hand on your shoulder. “You obviously kept it from us for a reason and I respect that. I just wanted you to know that you are loved here, Y/n.”

Her words lifted a weight off your chest that you didn’t even realise were there.

“I am so grateful to have you in my life, Barbara Holland.” You said, teary eyed. She pulled you into a hug and then wiped your tears away.

“I’m glad I met you, Y/n. If I’m being honest, I think you’re my best friend here.” Barb smiled, “Don’t tell Nancy, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Hey! Barb! Y/n! Come join us!” Nancy shouted from across the water.

“Guess we should go join them.” Barb sighed, getting up and walking over as you joined her.

When you sat down, you looked out into the forest that surrounded Steve’s backyard. For a moment, you thought you saw a flash of light. Your investigation was cut short by the sound of screams. Looking over you saw that Tommy was trying to throw his girlfriend in the pool again. And she’s not happy about it.

“If I’m ever in a relationship like that, shoot me.” You shot a look at Barb and she mimed loading a gun.

Steve grabbed a can of beer from the cooler, bringing out a knife to punch a hole in the side and shotgunned it. You rolled your eyes as he flopped into his deck chair, lighting a cigarette.

“That supposed to impress me?” Nancy laughed, toying with him.

“You’re not?”

“You are a cliché, you do realise that?”

“Surprised it took you that long to notice.” You mutter, Barb bursting out in laughter next to you. Steve chose to ignore your comment.

“You are the cliché. What, with your grades and your band practice.” Steve replies.

“I’m so not in band.” Nancy laughs.

“Okay party girl. Why don’t you just show us how it’s done, then?”

Nancy takes the knife and grabs a beer, punching in a hole and chugging the can. Steve begins chanting and Tommy and Carol join him until they all cheer as Nancy drops the empty can. You and Barb stayed quiet. If anything, you were upset Nancy gave in.

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy said and all eyes were on Barb who looked petrified.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to, thanks.”

Nancy made her way over regardless, holding out a can to her friend.

“Come on, Nance.” You say, trying to diffuse the situation but being completely ignored.

“Yeah!” Steve chimed in with Tommy and Carol following suit.

“Nance, I don’t want to!” Barb protested.

“Seriously, Nancy, leave her alone she doesn’t want to!” You were trying to push the can away now.

“Stop ruining the fun for once, Y/n.” Tommy said with a glare.

“Just… give it a shot.” Nancy handed Barb the tools she needed and you saw Barb give up.

“Okay.”

You shook your head in disgust. Peer pressure. What a fun concept.

Barb tried cutting into the can like the rest did. Before you could tell her that she was holding it at the wrong angle, the knife slipped and she cut a deep gash into her right thumb, blood dripping onto the deck.

“Gnarly!” Tommy yells, laughing with his girlfriend.

“Fuck off.” You spat, rushing to Barb.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, her face now terrified. You made her do it, you thought.

“I’m fine. Steve, where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He replied, his actions had stilled now, a worried frown on his face.

Barb quickly left, shrugging your hand off her shoulder. You went to follow her when Carol called your name.

“So… ‘The Freak’, huh?” She smirked with a knowing look.

“What?”

“Well Nance told us you had a crush and you did try and protect him. It was sweet, really. Not wanting Tommy to mess up his already messed up face, huh.” She pouted, laughing at your startled reaction.

You looked to Nancy who was at a loss for words.

“Aw, the two freaks together. You’d make such freaky babies.” Tommy’s laughter was loud and menacing and you felt the colour drain from your face.

“Knock it off, guys.” Steve said, standing up.

“Ooh, why, what are you gonna-” Carol screamed as her boyfriend took the opportunity to push her into the pool and threw away his cigarette, jumping in after her with a yell.

“Y/n-” Nancy approached you.

“I’m going to see if Barb’s okay.” You said, leaving her there with Steve.

You ran to the bathroom, knocking on the door to hear a sniffled ‘go away’ from the other side.

“It’s me, Y/n.” You leant against the door.

“I just want to deal with it by myself. Go enjoy the party.”

You went to knock again when you figured it would be an empty gesture.

“Okay. I’ll be by the pool if you need me.” You say, making your way back through the house.

When you stepped back onto the deck, you saw that everyone was in the pool splashing around at eachother, completely oblivious to you stood there. You sighed and began picking up the empty cans. Picking up the one that Barb dropped, you focused on the crimson colour that covered the side. Looking down, you saw a small pool of her blood and you shivered.

Blood by the pool.

You looked down, your drink now forgotten on the floor beside you. People were screaming but no one moved.

You kept your focus on the figure in the pool now floating. The ceramic side to a once blue pool now covered in crimson red blood.

“What did you do?”

“Oh my god, Y/n!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

You continued picking up the waste and took it with you to the kitchen, emptying them into the trash and replacing the liner in it. You set the full bag of crap by the door for Steve to take out later so he didn’t have to explain anything to his parents. You’re welcome, you thought as you looked out of the window.

Nancy was laughing, hugging Steve in the pool as Carol and Tommy splashed around behind them. You don’t ever remember being that happy around your boyfriend.

Then there was another white flash coming from the trees. Looking back at the scene before you, you made a decision. Screw it, you thought.

Before you left, you grabbed a stray piece of paper from the counter, scribbling where you were going so Barb didn’t panic. You went back onto the deck and left the paper on Barb’s deserted chair and pulled on your shoes, not bothering with socks since they were the other side of the backyard. You didn’t tell Nancy you were leaving. You didn’t think she’d care.

You found the path into the forested area that lay behind Steve’s house, trying to map out in your head where you thought the flash came from. Then there was a distinct shutter sound. Was that… a camera?

You followed the sound, hiking further into the forest. Why you were doing this? You had no idea. It might just be the painkillers. You heard the snap of a twig and another shutter sound. You didn’t know what your plan was but you crept towards the sound until you saw a figure leaning over some bushes, camera in hand that was aimed towards the house.

“Hey!” You shouted, drawing their attention.

“Wait,” You shook your head in disbelief, “Jonathan?”

Jonathan turned to look at you, a sheepish smile on his face. He’d been caught.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” He stated, still holding his camera angled toward the house.

“And what does it look like?” You challenged, crossing your arms. Sure, you knew he was the quiet type but you didn’t think he was a pervert.

“I was trying to find clues. Will… he… went missing around here. I was hoping to get photo evidence, convince Hopper not to drop the case. For my mom.”

“Wait, the chief is dropping the case?” His confession broke your heart. You hadn’t talked much lately and you felt guilty.

“Not yet, but I know he will. I just need to find… something. But I can’t. It’s like he vanished into thin air. He’s probably not even alive...”

“Hey, I’m sure someone will figure it out. And Will’s a smart kid. I just know he’s alive, I can feel it.” It’s true. Even if you didn’t know where Will was, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still fighting. Surviving.

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“So, uh, about..” You pointed to the camera and then the house, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, that. I, uh, got distracted. I heard some screams and I couldn’t resist a photo opportunity.” He said looking away from you, ashamed.

“Still kinda creepy.” You said before thinking, “You get any good ones?”

“Just Tommy throwing Carol in the pool.” He shrugged. “It’s not a flattering look.”

“Well now I have to see.” You laughed as he moved out of the way, holding the camera out for you.

You leaned into it. It had a clear view of the pool but no one was there, except Barb holding the familiar piece of paper you had left for her. You felt a twinge of guilt as you saw her sat on the edge of the pool. Where was everyone else?

You carefully shifted the camera to the right and that’s when you saw it. Nancy and Steve in his room, and her shirt was off.

“Gross.” You said, pulling your eye away from the camera and stepping back. And they just left Barb by the pool, alone.

“What?” Jonathan asked, peering back into the camera and he stilled.

“See? This is what happens. Nancy says she won’t leave me and Barb alone and look, she did. All so she could wrestle with Hairy and-”

The camera clicked.

Jonathan stared back at you.

“Did you just- actually, I don’t wanna know.”

“You were right,” He said quickly, changing the subject, “Barb is just sat there. It’s kinda sad.”

“Sadder than spying on people and taking photos of them?” You were protective of Barb, you felt bad that she was being treated like that.

“Fair enough.” Jonathan nodded, taking a few photos of Barb by the pool until he stopped and stared down at his camera. He shook his head and grabbed more film from his back pocket.

“Having fun?” You asked sarcastically. It was starting to get cold and you were wishing your denim vest had sleeves.

“My camera just went blurry. I thought Barb just disappeared-”

You heard a distant scream and you both jumped. Jonathan grabbed his camera and aimed it back at the pool, following the sound.

“What is it?” Your heart still pounding.

“Nothing.” He saw your exasperated look, “I mean, literally nothing. No one is outside anymore.”

“Not even Barb?” You frowned.

“She probably went home. I’m assuming the scream was from Carol…” The way his words drifted off made you gag and he chuckled.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” He said and you both walked back down the undesignated path to his car.

Some film fell out of his back pocket. You stopped to pick it up as Jonathan continued walking. Crouching down, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood, a chill creeping down your spine. You span around and, for a moment, you thought you saw something.

A flash of grey. Something that… didn’t have a face.

“Y/n?” Jonathan called. And just like that, the figure was gone.

You grabbed the film from the floor and caught up with Jonathan. You knew your mind was playing tricks on you, but there was something bubbling inside you as you walked out of the forest.

Fear.

Chapter 3: Photo-Op ->

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[slasherhaven]

HI, I discover your blog and i really love it. i dont know if youre already done it but could you do how the slasher would react to dreaming about they killed their s/o and wake up finding his s/o peacefully asleep next to them? im pretty curious (and sorry for my english :,3)

The Slashers having a dream were they kill you:

Thomas Hewitt 

It was horrible and he woke up feeling sick.

In the dream you had been terrified of him, pleading with him to let you go, but you didn’t seem to recognise him. He didn’t recognise you either, you were just the next victim in the basement. Just a job. He woke up just as his dream self killed you.

He panicked, suddenly terrified of losing you, needing to see you.

But there you were, where you always were at night, practically laying on his chest, sleeping peacefully. You even had a small smile on your face. Nothing like in the dream.

He didn’t want to wake you, he knew it was just a dream but it had really shaken him. So, he just wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close and refusing to let go as he buried his face into your hair.

He loved you so much, he didn’t want you to get hurt, and the thought of being the thing that hurt you killed him inside.

“Tommy, are you alright?” you asked quietly, barely even awake. Still, it made him jump a little, he didn’t mean to wake you.

He just nodded, making you smile to yourself as you cuddled up to him some more, placing a light kiss on his chest before falling back to sleep.

Michael Myers

He hadn’t even realised it was a dream at first, he was stalking a house like he usually did, targeting the person inside. But then he realised that the house was his own, the one he now shared with you, and the victim inside was you. That didn’t seem to stop him though, he found his way into the house, taking you by surprise and driving his knife into your stomach.

You had looked up at him with wide eyes, hands clutching his arms. “Michael?” you sounded scared, betrayed...it wasn’t an image he would soon forget.

But then he woke up, finding himself in your shared bedroom, looking up at the ceiling of the dimly lit room.

It felt so...real...

He sat up and looked down at your place on the bed, finding you sleeping peacefully, unaware of the inner turmoil he was feeling. He did not like this feeling.

Killing somebody had never once left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach but this did. If he killed you, you would be gone forever, and that was something that unsettled him more than he would like to admit.

You were sleeping deeply, so he luckily didn’t wake you up. He didn’t want to have to explain himself to you if you found him laying back down, shifting closer, and wrapping an arm around you, holding your body closer to his. He focused on your breathing and your warmth.

Maybe he was only just realising it but now, for once, he had something to lose.

Jason Voorhees

The dream was horrible. The scream, the blood, your limp body. You had been so afraid, so afraid of him, and he had killed you mercilessly, something he couldn’t even consider doing in reality. You had screamed before choking as the machete hit you. Jason had lowered you to the ground, your hand raising and leaving a bloody handprint on his mask before falling limp, the light leaving your eyes. You were gone...

And that was when Jason woke up, eyes wide and panicked.

The first thing he did was look for you, reaching out to touch you. Finding you sleeping soundly in his embrace.

You were here, alive and happy. Sleeping by his side, completely unafraid of him.

He didn’t want to wake you, he just wanted to hold you. So, he did. 

He couldn’t help but tear up as he held you. It had all felt so real, for a moment he really thought he had lost you and it was painful, it had broken his heart before he realised that none of it was real. He wouldn’t be able to get that vision out of his head, of him stained in your blood...

You would wake up the next morning held in a tight embrace with Jason’s face buried in your hair, refusing to let you go.

Brahms Heelshire 

In the dream, you had been busy and he was having a tantrum. You tried to shush him while getting on with the work you needed to do, but you kept denying him, ignoring him, telling him to give you a moment. Then you shouted at him. And then there was blood...so much blood. One moment Brahms had stabbed you, the next he was trying to stop the bleeding, begging you to stop. He couldn’t stop it, and he saw you die.

He woke up, shooting up straight in the bed, breathing heavily with tears in his eyes.

He was absolutely panicked. He hadn’t done that right? No, he couldn’t do that!

Frantically looking around, he saw you sleeping beside him, having clearly been disturbed by his sudden movement.

You woke up a little, sleepily asking if he was okay. He swallowed the lump in his throat before laying back down, cuddling up to you, holding you like his own personal teddy bear.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I wouldn’t ever hurt you. I’ll be good” Brahms promised you, the pain obvious in his voice.

“Of course you wouldn’t, Brahms. You’re a good boy. Why are you saying these things?” you asked but he just buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Bad dream?” you asked and he nodded. You sighed before petting his hair, slowly lulling him back to sleep before joining him.

The next day he would be on his absolute best behaviour, he couldn’t do enough for you. He would also be extra clingy, not letting you out of his sight for a moment.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had his fair share of bad dreams, he just wasn’t very open about them, but you knew. This dream was different though, it wasn’t about his childhood, it was of present day. He was taunting you as you begged him to let you go, promising to do whatever he wanted, asking him why he was doing this. But he only laughed at you, not caring, all before killing you. Watching the life leave your eyes as you reached out to hold onto him, your hand wrapping tightly around his wrist as you feel to the ground.

Bo woke up suddenly with an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It was a dream, he reminded himself, chastising himself for being so pathetic.

Then he felt you shift beside him, moving closer and getting his attention. Bo looked down at you and slowly felt that feeling in his chest fade, replaced by warmth.

You were alive and well, and sleeping peacefully right beside him.

He wrapped his arm around you, letting you cuddle up to him some more. 

He wasn’t going to wake you up because he didn’t was to share the dream with you, not just yet anyway.

For now, he was quite happy to just lay with you and hopefully get some more sleep.

Vincent Sinclair

Everything had happened so fast in the dream. A new group of victims had come into town and Bo had sent him after them. He did, as he always did, finally catching up to the last victim, stabbing them, killing them. Only then did he realise that it was you, looking up at him in horror, your blood coating his hands.

Vincent woke up breathing heavily, eye wide as he tried to ground himself back in reality.

He instantly looked to you, gradually calming down as he watched your body rise and fall with steady breaths.

He didn’t want to wake you up or disturb you, he just needed some comfort.

He carefully shifted closer to you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing his chest to your back, nuzzling his face against your hair.

He felt a tear threatening to fall and he just allowed it, as long as he was quiet as to not wake you. 

All he wanted right now was to hold you and calm down. Everything would be alright in the morning, he knew that.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had a bad dream every now and again, just like everyone else, but they had mostly stopped since you started sharing a bed with him. Tonight seemed to be an exception. Lester never did the killing, he brought the victims to the brothers. This was no different. He had taken you into town, handed you right over to the twins, even when you begged him not too, both of you knowing what your fate would be. As Bo walked you away, followed by Vincent, you had looked back at Lester, begging him one more time, a look of complete betrayal and heartbreak on your face.

Lester startled awake, breathing heavily and sweating slightly.

His sudden movement woke you up, making you roll over to face him, rubbing your face sleepily. “Lester? You okay?”

“Y-yeah, just a bad dream...you’re okay, right?” Lester assured you, looking over you as if checking for any injuries.

“Of course I am” you frowned slightly, confused by his question. But he seemed to relax then, joining you in bed again.

“Good...good” Lester sighed as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You just wrapped your arms around him and held him as the two of you fell back to sleep.

Bubba Sawyer 

It had been an accident in the dream. He was chasing down an intruder, chasing them through the house, nothing too new. He thought that he had caught up with them, dealing with them using his chainsaw...but once the chaos was over, he saw you laying on the floor, your blood pooling around you.

Bubba woke up, instantly panicked and searching for you. But he found you sleeping with a content smile on your face right beside him.

He quickly moved closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest in a tight embrace.

The movement woke you up but you knew it was Bubba so you just happily moved closer and cuddled into him.

“You okay, Bubs?” you asked and he nodded, letting out a few concerned coos. “Bad dream?” he nodded again.

You lifted your head, kissing his cheek, silently assuring him that everything was alright, before cuddling up to him again. Falling asleep in his arms.

Billy Lenz

Bad dreams weren’t new to Billy but this one was. He was walking through the house and he had a knife in his hand, he had a destination in him, a victim was waiting for him. He slowly pushed the bedroom door open before stepping in, the slither of light illuminating your sleeping face. He moved over to you, raising the blade above his head before forcing it down into your chest. 

Then he woke up with a gasp, eyes wide and frantic as he sat up.

The suddenness waking you up slightly. You asked if he was alright, altering him that you were alright.

“Bad dream” Billy murmured as he returned to you, tangling his limps with yours and clinging to you. “Billy wouldn’t hurt you. Billy loves you” he mumbled.

“Did you hurt me in the dream?” you asked softly and he hesitantly nodded. “It’s okay, Billy. I know you wouldn’t hurt me in real life. I love you too” you kissed the top of his head, feeling him hold onto you a little tighter before trying to get some more sleep, you joining him. 

Asa Emory (The Collector)

For Asa, bad dreams usually related to his childhood, not anything from his present life. Sometimes he would dream about his crimes but he wouldn’t call them bad dreams, he was very neutral on them. This...even he couldn’t feel neutral about what he was dreaming about right now. Of hurting you, not even making it quick, drawing your pain out before finally doing you the mercy of killing you.

As soon as he wakes up, he steadies his breathing and focuses himself. 

It was a dream, nothing more. 

But that didn’t change the sense of contentment he felt when he looked down to see you sleeping, arm around his waist and head on his chest. A perfect reminder that it really was just a dream, that you were still here, and he wasn’t going to hurt you.

He wrapped his arm around you some more, just holding you more securely without waking you up. He wasn’t going to discuss this with you, not right now anyway.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

In the dream, it was like you were just another victim. He had subdued you but you were still away, tears staining your face as you pleaded with him to show mercy. He just took the camera off of his shoulder and zoomed in on your terrified face, he was enjoying it. He soon put the camera back in place before pulling out his knife.

Your piercing scream of agony rang through his mind as he woke up, greeted by the ceiling of his bedroom.

He turned his head to the side, seeing you sleeping beside him. Perfectly well and unharmed, your arm resting over his waist.

You were alright, you were safe. He would never hurt you.

Jesse wrapped his arm around you, gently pulling you closer to him.

It was just a dream, he was well aware of that, and knew not to let it effect him too much. Still, the thought of hurting you made him cringe. 

That would never happen, he would protect you, he promised himself that.

Otis Driftwood 

It was a violent dream that unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Just him carrying out his true nature but on you instead of a victim he couldn’t care less about. You had cried, pleaded, tried to get through to him, but he didn’t stop, he didn’t care. And then, you were dead. He had killed you, your blood staining his hands and clothes.

Otis is pretty used to disturbing dreams, they rarely bothered him, but this one definitely did.

He woke up, instantly focusing on you. How your head was resting on his chest and your legs was draped over his hips. Very much alive, not a spot of blood on you, perfectly content.

He never thought that somebody outside of the family could have such an effect on him. That somebody’s loss could...scare him so much.

His arm remained around you as he made himself more comfortable, causing you to shift closer as well, letting out a quiet, sleepy hum.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, nearly chastising the fond feeling he felt when you smiled in your sleep.

Baby Firefly 

Gory dreams never bothered her, they couldn’t be any worse than reality, in fact she wouldn’t consider them nightmares at all. This though, this was certainly a nightmare. You were bleeding, crying, and in pain, but she was just giggling, being the person hurting you. And, just like that, you were dead and her giggling stopped, a look of worry spreading over her face.

She woke up, running a hand over her face and brushing off the dream. It was just a dream, you were alright.

There you were, sleeping right beside her. She knew that, she was looking at you.

Still, she shifted into a more comfortable position, brushing your hair out of your face and beginning to scatter kisses over your face.

She wasn’t going to mention the dream right now, it was silly. She just wanted to hear you wake up giggling at her playful attack.

Yautja (Predator) 

Dreams weren’t all that common for him, at least not like this one. Even in teh dream it was an accident, him forgetting how fragile you were compared to Yautjas. And it cost him everything.

He woke up just as you died in the dream, leaving him with a sickening feeling.

But when he felt you shift, making him relax.

You were curled up on his chest, sleeping peacefully, just like you did every night.

He purred soothingly as he gently combed his clawed fingers through your hair, purring some more when you smiled and nuzzled into him.

You trusted him. Trusted that he wouldn’t hurt you, that he wouldn’t let anything like that dream happen. He just had to trust himself, and he could do that.

[ofbeastsandwizards]

THIS IS MY MESS [prt three] - avengers x reader

<- previous chapter

a/n: new update schedule you guys!! mondays are now TIMM Mondays! hope you guys are doing well <3

pairing: avengers x reader platonic

word count: 3050

warnings: use of ‘she/her’ pronouns on reader, mild anxiety attack at the beginning of the chapter, a few curse words (I think?), excruciatingly long

series summary: A 16 year old from Harlem finds herself ensnared in a tangle of problems when she literally falls into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the object of her absolute affection.

chapter summary: Daring to venture past the small room [Y/n] woke up in, she finds herself at penthouse level, ready to come face to face with Tony Stark himself, and she’s suddenly aware that not even meeting her idol will be easy to face.

TW AGAIN!: Anxiety attack ahead,, stay safe loves <3

————

Thoughts were pooling inside [Y/n]’s mind. So many thoughts, so many emotions, like an overflowing bucket of water- no, tar, hot, sticky, and burning, she was practically drowning in her own mind.

Every nightmare, every dream, every moment of her sixteen years of life, began to form into one enormous question mark, and suddenly, she realized, is anything real?

She felt as though she couldn’t move, yet simultaneously, everything around her was spinning like a top. Every bone in her body became painfully aware of her conditions, and confusion became the only recognizable emotion inside her overstimulated brain.

She willed herself to stay calm, to get some sort of idea of her situation, and so, recalling the information stored safely in the back of her mind, precisely for times like these, she forced herself to pick out five things in the room using just her eyes.

Walls. Dresser. Bed sheets. Door. Windows.

Her head was still spinning, and she felt as though she might pass out, but she pushed herself through the agony, repeating over and over in her mind to stay calm, to breathe.

Moving her hands shakily to grip the sheets around her, she acknowledged their silky fabric. Sheets.

She reached her other hand up to grip the soft material of her shirt, running her thumb along the hemming. Shirt.

She rested her palm on her chest for a moment, and carefully relished in the presence of the mattress beneath her. Bed.

Then, she gripped the material of her sweatpants, parts of the cloth balled from her continuous wear. A smile pricked the corners of her mouth, the material growing more soothing to the touch than anything else in the room. Sweatpants.

Hear. What can I hear?

Though the ringing in her ears was still present, she chose to push that reminder of her current situation deep down into the depths of her brain, and focused on the low buzzing that was occupying most of the room, courtesy of the industrial lighting. Lights.

She turned her head, ever so slightly, ignoring the pain that came with it, to glance out to the New York City streets. Down on the dim roads of New York, the faint sounds of cars honking below filling her ears. New York.

And then, she suddenly became aware of one of the other sounds in her room. It was filtering in from under the door. The sounds of some sort of heating unit. It was quiet, but noticeable enough that [Y/n] decided it should suffice.

Heater.

Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she took note of the air freshener that seemed to fill every crack and crevice of the room. It smelled faintly of lavender, and the notes of sterilizing wipes used to clean off the surfaces of the room. That counts for two, right?

And the only taste on her tongue was the lingering steely taste of blood from her fall earlier in the night. Tightening her lips into a straight line, she decided that her previous list of things would be enough to ground herself.

She could feel the spinning in her mind begin to grow less and less prominent, and she squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath of air and holding it in her lungs for a few seconds, before opening her eyes back up and blinking away the rest of her anxiety.

With newfound confidence, she bit her lip and began to assess the situation. Okay. What are the chances of this actually being inter dimensional travel?

Low. Extremely. Extremely low.

But how, exactly, would any of this be explainable otherwise?

I mean…a lot of scientists believe in the existence of parallel universes but…

Subconsciously gnawing on the inside of her cheek in thought, she decided she would figure out how she got here at another time, right now, she needed to figure out how to get out.

It didn’t matter whether what she was experiencing was all in her head or not, she was not prepared to throw herself into an action packed environment of superheroes and crime fighting, no matter how lucky she was to be here. Getting home, getting away was the only viable option.

She threw the blankets off of her body, ignoring the screaming aches of cold from her body as she did so, and she slid herself off the edge of the bed, unprepared for the cool chill she got from placing her bare feet on the ground.

“Ah!” She squeaked, lifting her feet momentarily above the tiled floor, hovering her feet off the ground. “You would think he’d be able to afford heated floors…”

She placed her feet back down onto the tile, pushing the cool sensation down as she forced herself to lift up from the stiff, hospital-like bed. She nearly fell back onto the mattress as she felt all of her mass shift down to her feet, suddenly becoming dizzy with the new distribution of her weight.

[Y/n] gripped the edge of the mattress for support, before regaining most of her strength, and pushing forward, walking towards the door to, what she assumed to be, a hallway outside.

Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, she placed her other hand on the door-handle, before glancing up at the ceiling.

“Hey, uh…” she paused. “JARVIS?”

The A.I was quick to respond. “Yes, Miss [Y/n]?”

That’s gonna take some getting used to. “Uh, do you know how to get out of here?”

“I’d advise you not to leave the tower unsupervised.” He responded.

Oh. He’s right. New York City at night is already risky business…but I’m really in a reality where super-crime and vengeful aliens exist, it’s probably not a good idea.

She frowned, lifting her hand off the door-handle and debating what her next move would be. She glanced around and let out a sigh. “Okay. Where’s Pepper at?”

“Miss Potts has asked me to call her down before you-“

[Y/n] shakes her head. “That’s okay. I can get her on my own. Just…tell me how to find her?”

JARVIS seems to want to say no, but instead, he responds; “She’s currently at Penthouse Level. You can access it from the elevator to your left just outside of the room.”

“Oh. Thank you.” [Y/n] said, pulling open the door and poking her head out through the doorway. Just as JARVIS has said, to her left was an elevator, and to the right, the hallway curved around to more branchingcorridors, which [Y/n] decided were not worth exploring.

“I suggest that you be quick, however. Miss Potts will be shutting down the power momentarily to test the functionality of the Arc Reactor.” JARVIS commented, his voice now filling the halls outside of the room.

[Y/n] was silent for a moment, soaking in the information. Arc Reactor? This must be around the time of the first Avengers film…

“Yeah…good uh…good idea.” The thought of being trapped between floors on the elevator suddenly souring her vision of escaping. Yeah. Better to not die via elevator malfunction.

She stepped completely out of the room, letting the heavy door swing shut behind her. She ventured down the hall towards the elevator, pressing a button as every nerve in her body began to flinch and twitch at the prolonged period of waiting.

Then, with a hollow ‘ding’ the doors of the elevator cracked open and the young girl let a small grin break onto her face. She stepped inside the elevator, glancing over the buttons inside and biting down lightly on the top of her tongue.

Her fingers drifted over the buttons lining the top row, unsure of which to press, as the doors to the elevator snapped shut.

“The penthouse is on the top floor.” JARVIS’ voice rang out, this time coming from the speakers she could only assume were placed deliberately in a discreet location within the confines of the elevator.

“Oh, okay,” She paused to press her finger against the button at the very left of the top row of brightly lit numbers. “You’re a life-saver.” She whispered.

She drummed her fingers against the side of her legs, watching as the numbers displayed in clean cut lettering rose with every floor, before the elevator came to a slow stop at the very top level. The penthouse.

[Y/n] stepped from the elevator as the doors opened, the lights above her flickering for a moment, before growing completely dark.

A shiver ran down her spine. Right on time, I guess.

This foyer was much wider, decorative plants and accents lining the walls. There were no doors, save for one at the end of the hallway, that [Y/n] could just barely make out in the suddenly dim light surrounding her.

Nothing but small lights that were indented in the floors of the hallway were lighting up the way, and, hesitantly, the young girl began to make her way towards the door. JARVIS’ comforting words of wisdom were nowhere to be found as the elevator doors sealed shut behind her, leaving her to her own devices.

This actually might be the stupidest decision I’ve ever made.

Shuffling along down the hallway, very suddenly intimidated by the impression of wealth and sophistication that this level of the tower was presenting to her, she hurriedly approached the door.

She placed a hand on the doorknob, turning it, and opening the door. The other side was just as dark, if not darker, as the hallway she had just occupied. The only thing serving as a light source for the dimly lit room was the hologram-like surface of some sort of desktop computer that was being projected above a dark, slightly cluttered desk.

Pepper, who seemed to be operating the device, glanced up from whatever was being displayed on the screen.

Her eyes found the source of the intrusion, and she furrowed her brows. She minimized the screen, pushing away from the desk with a curious expression.

“Hey, I thought I told you to ask JARVIS to call me in?” She said, stopping at a close distance to the desk, but giving her best effort to put her attention on [Y/n], who was mainly absorbed in taking in the sights around her.

Though it was dark, every inch of the room, she began to look over. Every crack, every crevice, she couldn’t even begin to describe. A catwalk, lit only by dim blue lights, connected to some sort of landing pad outside of the large room.

A sunken area with a couch and living quarters occupied a different corner, and she realized it would send her into a frenzy to try and process everything inside the room she was currently in.

It all seemed so familiar, parts of the room she had seen before, in the films, parts of it were completely new, things she never would have guessed would occupy that space.

“Woah.” That was all she could seem to muster up.

Pepper offered a smile, paired with a light laugh, which she hoped would be a gesture enough to make the young girl feel more comfortable in such an odd place.

[Y/n] forced herself to move closer to Pepper, trying to keep her eyes from exploring every inch of the room. “This is crazy…” She mumbled, eyes finally landing on the red-haired woman.

Pepper hummed.

“Sorry about…just, barging in.” [Y/n] said, hands moving to rub against the opposite arm.

Pepper rolled her shoulders back, sparing a glance back at the screen. “It’s alright.” She tapped something on a streamline keyboard, before looking back over at the teen.

“Are you ready to head home? We can have a car sent over whenever you’re ready.” Pepper said.

[Y/n]’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Uhm, I mean- I guess? I just…” The realization that, if this truly was another universe, her home was probably not like her home, began to sink in.

What if I don’t have a home to go to?

Pepper lifted a hand for a moment, turning her attention back to the screen, zooming into something before glancing back. “Sorry about that. Well, if you want, we can wait till Tony gets back. He shouldn’t be too long.” She paused, lifting her hand off the keyboard. “Is that okay?”

The young teenager said nothing, she only began bobbing her head up and down dumbly. Pepper offered one last smile, before returning to her work on the computer.

Every thought floating inside [Y/n]’s mind began to ask her to stay, as if part of her was like some little girl begging their mother to let them keep a lost puppy, and just like that, she gave in.

I guess…it wouldn’t hurt to stay and meet Tony Stark…right?

Letting curiosity, and her inner fangirl, get the best of her, she decided she could postpone her epic escape plan for just a few moments longer.

Pepper pressed a few buttons on the screen. “Alright, you’re connected.” She said, tapping away at the keyboard once again.

[Y/n] leaned over, trying to inconspicuously catch a glimpse at who she presumed was Tony Stark. None of this was in the movie…

“Alright. Going under.” Tony Stark’s voice echoed shallowly from the computer-like device, and [Y/n] could feel the world begin to spin again.

Pepper Potts was one thing, but Tony Stark actually existing? That’s a whole different level of insanity, one that [Y/n] was now painfully aware she was not prepared to face.

She swallowed hard. “Was…was that Ton-“ She stopped herself, “Uh…Mr. Stark?”

Pepper nodded absentmindedly, returning to whatever complex thing it was that she was doing on the computer. [Y/n] took the awkward head-nod as a yes, and buried the thought of meeting him down inside herself.

She took the opportunity to observe the sights from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the entire wall of the spacious room. The Chrysler Building was towering at around the same level as Stark Tower, and she realized she had never seen it from this high up.

“That’s incredible…” She whispered, subconsciously approaching the window nearest to Pepper and the computer.

Every little light shining from down below on the streets of New York lit up the city, and [Y/n] could hardly believe how small everything looked from this high up in the air. She resisted the urge to press herself against the glass, realizing that it would probably leave behind a rather large [Y/n] shaped smudge that she could only imagine Tony wouldn’t take too kindly towards.

Instead, she admired from afar, watching every small movement, when something far off in the distance, seemingly floating mid-air caught her eye. It shimmered red in the flickering lights of the city that never sleeps, and she realized what- or who, that must be.

Tony’s voice, filtered slightly through the computer, filled [Y/n]’s ears, and she noticed the familiarity of his words. “Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you”

[Y/n] ever so slightly tilted her head to get a better look at the screen. “You disconnected the transmission lines? Are we off the grid?” She asked, pressing a button on the computer while she spoke.

“Stark Tower is about to become a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy.” Tony responded. [Y/n] began to chew at her lips, turning to face the computer, but making sure she was just out of sight.

Hah. We could really use some of that in my world.

Pepper nodded, and glanced over the display of Stark Tower that was projected on the screen. “Well, assuming the Arc Reactor takes over, and it actually works.”

[Y/n] couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that began to overtake her features. The moment was just too good to sit through and pretend she didn’t care. Because she did. Marvel was practically her entire lifeblood, and getting to experience this moment, in-person, sent a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins.

“I assume.” Tony paused for a moment. “Light her up.”

Pepper pressed a button on the screen, then her fingers clacked away on the keyboard. [Y/n] turned her attention back outside, the all-too familiar suit of iron she had grown to love so much, now flying, in real time, directly towards them.

The lights overhead flickered a few times, before they turned on full-force, lighting the room up with soft, ambient light. [Y/n] gazed up at the lights, before glancing back down to the streets of New York.

“How does it look?”

“Like Christmas, but with more…me.” That same grin that had been plastered on the young girl’s face returned at Tony’s words, and a wave of nostalgia began to flood over her.

Man. It’s going to suck to leave this behind.

Pepper returned the comment with a smile, tapping another button. “We’ve got to go wider on the public awareness campaign, you need to do some press.” She said, “I’m in D.C tomorrow, working on the zoning for the next three buildings.”

“Pepper, you’re killing me. The moment, remember?” From outside, [Y/n] could see him disappear past the threshold of the building, the familiar shimmering suit lifting up towards the landing dock. “Enjoy the moment.”

“Get in here and I will.” Pepper finished, pressing one last button, and closing the line.

[Y/n] became aware of the situation almost immediately, and the smile that had been occupying her features not a moment before, was suddenly wiped from existence as she battled in her mind on what to do next.

She stepped a bit further away from Pepper, trying to train her eyes to anything but the screen, or Tony, who was rapidly approaching.

Pepper glanced over her shoulder, noticing the young girl’s nervous gaze. She offered her a smile. “Hey. He’s not that scary, I promise.” She said, turning her attention to the screen once more.

As much as she wanted to believe her, [Y/n] thought otherwise. Thoughts of doubt and embarrassment began to flood her mind, and the only thought she could cling to, was the fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe, Pepper was right.

Oh man. This is not nearly as fun as I thought it would be.

————

tag list:

@amillionworlds @cranberryceleste @ximaginx @purplekitten30 @inhumanwithpowers @lazyloversblog @xcharlottemikaelsonx @tired-butterfly @xoxmariaxox @mysticalcollectionheartme @xreaderandshits @lizlil @kai-writes-fan-fiction @bxby-riah @vicmc624 @marvel--unsolved @domainofincandescence @crankynfancy

[acefaun]

Red Flags~ Department of Punishments

Synopsis: What do you think might happen if you spent the night with your god... only for them to wake up in the morning and find you gone with only a pool of blood in your place? Ladies, I think we all know what I'm talking about... 💀

✨Masterlist✨

✨Department of Wishes version✨

Female goldfish.... for obvious reasons Warning: blood... also for obvious reasons. 

A/N: Gods who want to get rid of your ovaries without knowing what they're for. 💀

There are 12 different banners and tumblr only lets me post 10 pics at a time so I separated the Department of Punishments and Wishes. I think it might work out better this way…

–Word Count: 2,527–

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You spent the night with your boyfriend only to wake up with cramps. You knew exactly what that meant and you knew exactly the kind of bloody hell you were in. 

But what were you supposed to do? Just wake him up and say "Hey, hun, I'm bleeding in your bed." Nope. Not having that kind of chat. Luckily he seemed like he was in a pretty comfortable slumber so it would be easy for you to slip out of bed, clean yourself up and then return to... what? There was no way you could clean his sheets without him noticing. Then how would he react to you trying to take out a bloodstain? 

You grumbled, quietly, escaping to the bathroom with your disgusted self. You'd cross that road when you'd get there. First, you had to take a bath or something to get rid of this dirty feeling of having bled all over. 

♎️Zyglavis loved when you stayed over with him, which is why it upset him to find you gone. The only reason he woke up was because his shadow was panicking. This sense of urgency made him get out of bed and dress immediately. There was no time to waste—but wait. He paused. He pulled the sheets back a bit further, his eyes narrowing. You were in danger. How did this happen in the safety of his own room? 

Following the sensation of his panicked shadow, he ran straight into the bathroom where he had automatically shifted into his god form in pure distress. “(NAME)!” Your squeak of fright drew his attention to you. You didn't seem to be in danger. You were both frozen in the room, his eyes desperately scanning you while you just ogled his rare god form. But a sudden cramp made you reach for your abdomen with a wince. Without a second to waste, Zyglavis was by your side. “Where does it hurt?” He knelt before you, his fingers gently tracing over where your hand was. “Is this where you're bleeding?” 

Your face grew uncomfortably warm at how close his head was to your abdomen. “Y- Yeah? I'm… I'm okay,” you tried to excuse yourself. “Why are you… dressed like that?” 

“My shadow told me you were in danger and I found blood. What happened?” Uh oh. He was in minister mode and his hands were searching you for dark energy again. 

“Could you wait and listen before groping me for dark magic?” Don't they ever have to deal with volatile women on their periods on the Punishments lists? Zyglavis was old—or maybe he thought you were above the average woman and didn't have to deal with trivial things like periods. Either way, he needed to sit and calm down. First, Zyglavis really needed to get his shadow under control, it wasn’t helping his anxiety in the least bit. 

He only slightly felt comforted by your explanations, though, he felt like he should have known this was the case. His goal first and foremost was to get you the best chocolate he could find. If it helped, he was getting an overwhelming amount for you (maybe for himself too).

♏️It was too early in the morning for this bullshit. Scorpio had no patience for it. First of all, how dare you abandon him in bed? His favorite thing to wake up to was you snuggling into him, or vice versa, he loved to nuzzle his nose into you and take in your scent. The only thing he was waking up to now was a horribly familiar smell that haunted him. 

He didn’t have time to shake off sleep before he was alert and out of bed. His eyes darted around the room, landing on the pool of blood where you had been sleeping. His hands clenched into fists so they wouldn’t shake. All he could think about was how that was too much blood for you to be okay. There was no way a human could lose that much blood. Unless… was it a prank from Ichthys? He was always doing stupid shit, but this crossed the line. 

*** 

As soon as you were out of the bath and dressed in clean clothes, you were going to head straight back to Scorpio’s room to wake him up and deal with the already spilled blood. The only thing that stopped you was hearing the voice of your beloved coming from the living room. “You stupid fish! I’m going to kill you!” 

You rushed to the living room, ironically arriving just in time to hear Ichthys pleading innocent and divert Scorpio’s attention to you. “Scorpio… what happened?” 

Almost immediately, Scorpio had forgotten about Ichthys, attending to you. But the minute his hand touched your arm, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re in pain. Where does it hurt? What happened?” You were speechless as he lifted you into his arms, carrying you straight back into his room so he could lay you on his clean bed. “You lost too much blood. Just lay down.” 

He seemed outwardly angry, but he was really attentive. As long as you listened to him and did as he instructed, he listened to every word you had to say without complaint. So as soon as he was well educated on your predicament, he was taking care of you and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was going to give you all the rabbit apples he could manage to make. But no, that did not mean he was soft. 

♊️Dui was expecting to open his eyes and see your adorable face in front of him like usual when you spent the night. But this time was different. You were gone, and that wasn't usual. But it was worse. Shadow Dui immediately came out and observed the scene with a scowl. 

Someone had hurt his, and Dui's beloved while they were sleeping. It pissed Shadow off that Dui could be so dense as to think even his bed was safe from someone out to harm his goldfish. But just before he could go recruit help, you were walking out of the bathroom. 

You looked fine until Shadow scared you shitless. "YOU STUPID GOLDFISH!" His sudden yelling startled you into dropping your bloody clothes. 

"I'm sorry!" But no apology could fix this. 

"Where the hell were you?! Why didn't you tell me you were freaking stabbed to death?! If you're gonna hide something from me at least cover up the blood, you dummy! Come here and tell me who the hell hurt you! I'll kill them!" 

Ah. You left the wrong guy alone next to a horrifying amount of your blood with no explanation. You had to explain it, but you knew you were going to be in for it before this was over with. “I- I wasn’t stabbed to death. Can you calm down first?” You didn’t want to tell a god with a craving for death that you went through this every month. 

It took some coaxing, but finally, Shadow Dui had relented and Dui returned. It was his turn to fret over you. You only asked for simple things like a chocolate candy, some water, and a warm blanket for your stomach before you finally revealed what was going on. Dui was attentive, his eyes wide as he hung on to every word. “And this happens every month? And it hurts you? And you can’t just get rid of it?” 

“Dui… that’s where babies come from.” 

He lost it at that, and Shadow Dui returned with a new vengeance. “Why does something that should be a blessing sound so much more like a curse?! Well I’m not gonna sit here and let you suffer! I’m gonna get rid of your pain and stop your bleeding!” After a week of trying so hard, he was easily excited to see that his methods of stroking your aching stomach made all the bleeding stop and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Rather, if he was going to give you a massage every time you had your period, you weren’t complaining. 

♓️At first Ichthys thought it was just some kind of prank. He woke up to find you missing and a bunch of blood in your place? Typical horror movie scene. He's not too phased. Only... why does it smell like real blood? And why won't it come out? And why won't you come out? You were supposed to jump out and scare him with a fake stab wound or something! But you weren't showing up, and he was panicking that you were dying alone somewhere! 

"I'M GONNA FIND YOU, (NAME)! I WON'T LET YOU DIE!" He was shouting as he raced through the mansion. He had to find some trace of you. He fell silent as Huedhaut revealed you were in the bathroom, but Ichthys wasn't stopping even then. He needed to heal you! He burst through the doors, finding you sorting your bloodied clothes, obviously just having gotten out of the bath. "Let me heal you!" 

You didn't know what this guy was on at first, but then you remembered the bloody mess you left his bed. "Oh, yeah... I’m sorry. We need to talk." You've scarred this kid for life. He'll never be able to handle blood the same again. 

Well, you can only hope this accident doesn’t inspire him to prank the gods in the future. If there was anything Ichthys learned, it was making sure he didn’t prank you at all during this long week. He learned too quickly how volatile your emotions were and how to appease you by making the other gods miserable instead. He decided that women were very scary when it came to periods.

♍️You'd expect Partheno to understand a thing or two about the natural cycles of a woman. But when you disappeared that morning, he was very confused to find you missing. 

You rarely left him without saying anything, but there was no way you were goldfish-napped under his nose, right? But the sight of blood threw him off and for a brief moment he thought he might have been really wrong. 

He tried to come up with any excuse as to what could have happened, but he was in panic-mode. His goldfish was hurt, and he didn't know where you were. “(NAME)!” Even for shouting so loud, there was no response, and he shot out of bed. If you were in trouble, he needed to help you in the best and only way he could. 

*** 

You were relaxing in a warm bath tending to your cramps when a pink shield surrounded you like a bubble. You blinked a few times before you scanned the god-made shield. The thought of where it came from made you purse your lips together. 

Getting out of the comforting water, you attempted to dry yourself and get some clothes… except the bubble refused to allow anything to enter. The water that once surrounded you was also avoiding you. 

As much as the thought of Partheno panicking amused you, you were now bleeding freely and had nothing to stop it. “PARTHENO!” Kneeling with your legs pressed together, you impatiently waited for your boyfriend to burst through the doors of the bathroom. 

When he finally found you on the floor, his heart stuttered. “Love!” However, he forgot to remove the bubble, only reeling back for a brief moment before the pink shield popped around you. “I'm here! I'm going to make it better.”

Irritated with the blood that pooled beneath you, you smacked his hands away. You had accidentally gotten blood all over his bed, but this was his fault. “Don't touch me; clean that up. I need another bath…” 

You were very snappy with him as he did everything you said while you were bathing. However, the questions never stopped coming as to if you were feeling okay and what happened. The answers he received surprised him but he was glad to know how to fix things. As long as he understood that trapping you in a bubble when on your period was a deadly decision for him to make. 

♈️This man was respectable enough to let you handle your own business. When Krioff felt you leave the bed, he stayed put, knowing that you would come back eventually since you didn’t outwardly say you were leaving or anything; and none of your movements clued him into thinking something was wrong. 

You proved him right when you finally returned. Relaxed where he was, he waited with his eyes closed to feel you snuggle up to him like you usually do when you wake up and find that you’re too far from him. 

Only, you never came to him. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened for your movement. You kept shuffling with the blankets and the sheet under him kept getting tugged on as if you were pulling on it for him to get off. “(Name)...” He called your name, only to earn a startled squeak in reply as you stopped what you were doing. Immediately, he sat up to look at you. His eyes narrowed on how you were kneeling on the bed, a wet towel in your hands as you frantically tried to scrub a patch of red from off of his sheets. “Is that…” 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly tried to apologize for the mess, the tears readily welling up in your eyes. “I tried to clean it but I just can’t. It won’t come out. I didn’t mean to.” 

His eyes darted around, but there were no answers as to what was going on. His eyes then settled on you. “Are you bleeding?” 

“Um… yeah. I didn’t know it was today. I wouldn’t have stayed in your bed. This is-” He stopped you by putting his fingers over your lips. 

Bless this dense man’s poor heart. “You knew you were going to bleed? You’re injured? Why didn’t you say anything before?” Even after explaining a period to him, he was still convinced someone injured you with how often you curled up in pain. The only thing that seemed to help was when he would put his warm hand over your abdomen and hold you close. Krioff was like your personal heating pad; not only that, but he came with lots of servings of ice cream! Talk about the perfect god to have around.

[deepdarkdelights]

Lady of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Victorian Era, Time Travel, Misogyny, Jack The Ripper Murders, Forced Relationships, Forced Stripping and Dressing, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of dead bodies, Depictions of a corpse, Depictions of Wounds, Use of Drugs, Illicit Behaviors 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

A/N: Yay! It’s my first fic up after my two week break! So, this is pertaining to the Jack The Ripper Murders. For storytelling purposes, the timeline of events has been altered as well as details of the crimes. This story may not be for everyone so please read the warnings and take them into consideration before reading. Your mental health and wellbeing should always be your number one priority. That being said, I hope you enjoy! 💜💜💜

You could see your blurry reflection in the glass of the watch face you held in your hands. 

You wiped away your tears with the heel of your palm violently as you sniffled tiredly. It had been a long day. 

You were coming to terms with the fact that you were the last living member of your family, everyone else had died and moved on. Your mother had been young when she had you, but she was also young when she left you. Mere moments after you had been given life and were brought into the world, she had departed shortly after. 

All you had ever known was the warm, comforting embrace of your grandfather. He had been more like your father your entire life and now he had left too. And all you had to remember him by was his old, Victorian house, some grainy photographs, and his pocket watch. 

Today had been the day you learned of his last will and testament, and he had left you everything he had ever owned, especially that pocket watch. He had carried it everywhere with him for as long as you could remember, the long, silver chain neatly clipped to his vest at all times. He would often remove the watch from his pocket, swiping his thumb over the sealed lid fondly before flicking it open and tracking the time. He had never once been late to anything, something he bragged about often. 

If you closed your eyes, you could visualize a scene that was not unfamiliar to you. You would be seated on the floor in a pile of pillows by the fireplace, the flames crackling and emanating a comforting warmth. The scent of black cherry tobacco wafting under your nose as your grandfather settled a thick book on his knees, pausing his reading aloud to puff at his tobacco pipe. You would giggle happily, wrapping your quilt tighter around your body as you watched him attempt to blow smoke rings. He would then slip his hand into his pocket and remove the watch, the chain clinking about as he flipped the watch open. 

“It’s almost half past nine, don’t you have school tomorrow?” He would ask you, raising one eyebrow in questioning. 

You, at ten years old, were familiar with what this meant, and you absolutely refused to head up those creaky stairs to bed when the two of you were in the middle of embarking on an adventure. 

“Please, just one more chapter!” You would beg, eyes wide and watery with a pout settled on your lips. 

“Alright,” He would concede after a long pause of faux thinking, “We do have time, don’t we?”

But that's where your grandfather was wrong. You didn’t have nearly enough time. You were twenty two when time came and took a hold of your grandfather and left you in the dust. That was the thing about time, it moved quickly and was unforgiving. Twenty two years was not enough, you were far too young when you said your last goodbyes. 

Fuck, and now you were crying again. 

You laughed humorlessly to yourself, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and wiping your tears away again. Crying would do you no good, he would want you to be happy. Death did not mean the end of a life, it meant the celebration of one, was something he had once told you. 

It was time to start celebrating then. 

You uncorked a bottle of wine, throwing the cork into the sink and having a staring match with a wine glass before you sighed and grabbed the bottle by its neck and left the room. You lit the fireplace before sitting down in your grandfather’s chair, throwing a leg up on his ottoman and taking a swig from the bottle. That made you feel a little better. 

You tilted your head back before turning your face into the fabric, the scent of black cherry tobacco still clung to the chair. Your eyes burned again with unshed tears as you nestled your head closer to it, breathing the scent in deeply before taking a longer swig of wine from the bottle. You were sure you looked pathetic. 

You groaned in irritation, the last thing you had wanted to do was throw yourself a pity party yet here you were, drowning your problems in wine like a young mom who is questioning why she didn’t use protection. 

You sat up, grabbing the neck of the bottle and setting it on the side table before standing up on weak knees. It was too weird being in that room without him. You weren’t ready to move on so quickly. So, you killed the fire and shuffled up the creaky stairs and headed to your bedroom down the hall. 

Once the door clicked shut behind you, you flung your clothes off into the corner of the room and grabbed an old, large, band shirt you tended to use as pajamas. After you slipped the raggedy fabric over your head you slid beneath your sheets, fisting the comforter in your hand and pulling it up to your nose. 

You could see the silver of the watch glinting under the moonlight on your night stand. Without much thought you reached across your bed and grabbed it, pulling it under the blanket with you. You  twirled the delicate chain around your fingers as you pressed the latched watch to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as sleep tugged at your mind. But, despite that, your head was still filled with the memories of him that you tried to shake away.

You missed him, and you wanted to go back and see him again. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of warm food wafting throughout the house. In your delirium you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, you were sure it was just your grandfather whipping something up. 

And then you were jolting awake. There were two things you knew: one, your grandfather was a terrible cook who considered spam as breakfast, and two: he was dead. 

You shot up in bed, your sheets pooling around your waist as you cocked your head towards the door, listening in silence. You could faintly hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and the clacking of heels along the wood floor of the hallway. 

Someone was in the house. 

You snatched your phone from your bedside table and slipped free from the warmth of your bed. The pocket watch swung into your thigh, the chain still wrapped around your fingers from the night before. You kept your phone on the ready, prepared to dial the emergency line in seconds. 

When you opened the door you stuck your head out into the hallway, swinging it from right to left. You couldn’t see anybody, but the scent of food had gotten stronger. 

You allowed your door to swing shut behind you, the knob clicking with an air of finality. The floorboards were cold beneath your bare feet as you made your way down the stairs, dodging each squeaky board from years of practice. You knew this house like the back of your hand. 

Once you had descended the stairs you found yourself in the first floor hallway, the kitchen door to your right. Your eyes fluttered shut and you took in a deep breath before tensing your body with determination and flinging the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. 

A cry of shock echoed through the kitchen, the clash of pot and pans forcing a scream from your throat in response. Standing in front of you was what appeared to be a maid, her wispy brown hair tied into a bun at the base of her neck beneath a hat matching the long black dress and crisp white apron she donned. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of the nineteenth century. 

The two of you stared at each other in shock for a moment after your scream had died down and fizzled out. Her hand laid limply on her chest over her heart as her shoulders heaved with surprised breaths. 

Her gaze flickered up and down your form, her cheeks quickly reddening at your state of undress. 

“I cannot believe this!” She suddenly cried, throwing down the spatula she held in her other hand. “I’ve told the young master numerous times to stop consorting with heathens like yourself!”

“Heathen?” You echoed in confusion. “Hold on, what the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

“In your home? The audacity! You lay with the young master once and you believe yourself to be the lady of the estate? I will not have a harlot like you traipsing around!” She yelled back. 

“Lady, what the fuck are you on? You’re the one who broke into my house! Get out!” You screamed. 

“Emmett, Emmett come quickly! The young master let in another stray!” She called.

In a matter of seconds a man entered the room dressed in a three piece suit and gloves, he looked much like a butler. 

“Again? This is the third one this month, Mary.” He sighed in disgust, eyeing your form. “The indecency of this one, running around naked.”

You were speechless, all you could do was dumbly look down at your bare legs. The shirt you wore was fairly big, it covered everything important. Still, you grabbed at the hem and harshly pulled it down further, your mouth agape at his words. 

“Come now...miss. It’ll do you little good to linger here, we wouldn’t want to get the authorities mixed up in this, they aren’t fond of your kind as you know I’m sure.” 

You couldn’t think of anything to say until he approached you, gripping your arm roughly and tugging you out of the kitchen. 

“Get your fucking hands of off me, fucker!” You yelled, struggling to free yourself from his grasp. 

He tutted to himself as he ripped the front door open, “Such colorful language and such poor manners. Well, I suppose that is to be expected from women of your status.”

“Stop!” You cried, digging your heels into the floor. “You can’t throw me out of my own house! If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops, I swear!”

The butler merely shook his head, tired and annoyed with your antics. “Have a pleasant day, and for your own sake, find yourself a husband and stay off of the streets.”

And with that, he threw you out onto the front porch and slammed the heavy, mahogany door shut, the lock clicking into place. You spent the following moments banging your fists against the door and demanding to be let back in, once you realized how futile that was you unlocked your phone and dialed the emergency line. 

But you weren’t met with anything, no ringing, no voicemail, nothing. Your face scrunched up in confusion, your phone didn’t have a signal...how was that even possible?

And that was when you realized, for certain, that something was very wrong. When you finally looked up from your phone, you were surrounded by trees. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise, knocking into the front door behind you. All of the houses that once lined your street were gone. For miles around you all you could see was a dense forest and dirt and gravel roads. Your sweet, elderly neighbors house was gone, the ice cream shop that you could once see from your house was gone, the sidewalks and the fire hydrants were missing. It was as if they had never been there in the first place. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself, your stomach turning and your heartbeat thundering violently in your chest.

Everything was gone, how was that possible? Where did everyone go? Where did all of the buildings go? There was no way that they could all have been decimated and replaced with trees that towered higher than your house in one night. What in the absolute fuck was happening?

You crouched down to your knees, weaving your fingers through your messy hair as panicked sobs wracked your body. You had no explanation for what was happening, you had no idea what the hell was going on. Your phone wasn’t working, you were kicked out of your own home, and everyone was missing. 

You sat there for a moment, crying to yourself in a complete and utter panic before you realized that you needed to at least try and find someone who could help you. You allowed yourself a few more moments to squeeze out some more tears, heave your last sobs, and dry your wet face. You had done a lot of crying the past few days, enough tears to last you a lifetime. It was time to get to work now and figure out what was going on. 

So, you stepped foot onto the manicured lawn before you and made your way to the dilapidated road ahead of you. The dirt and gravel dug into the bare skin of your feet causing you to wince and jump in pain. It was better and easier to walk alongside the road rather than on it. 

The more you walked, and the further you walked, it became apparent that it was not only your street that had suffered changes overnight, but your entire town. What had once been a shopping district you frequented often in your teens was now a sea of never-ending trees. You hadn’t seen this much greenery since you went hiking years ago. 

The home that you remembered was much different from the sights you were seeing now. Your house had been the only Victorian on the street, the others newer builds that had popped up over the decades. It looked like any other street you had ever seen, an amalgamation of history in a couple blocks. But now, it appeared to be a clean slate, devoid of noise, devoid of life, and devoid of structure. 

In an eerie way, you felt like you were at the beginning of time, back before humanity had cultivated the earth and turned vibrant greenery into concrete jungles. It was as beautiful and it was lonely, if you hadn’t had that run in with the maid and the butler earlier, you could have assumed you were the only person on earth. How startling and stifling that would have been, to be just a house plopped in the middle of nowhere, with not a person in sight. 

It was not unlike how you felt now, alone walking alongside an empty road surrounded by trees. You could feel the miles passing as dirt clung to the soles of your feet, the skin burning in protest as you continued walking aimlessly in search of any signs of another person or house in the area. 

The thick layer of dark clouds hanging in the sky was not doing anything for your mood. You were certain you would be doomed to spend the day or possibly even the night in the trees trying to take cover from the onslaught of rain that was sure to come. 

And, just as you had predicted, all it took was one roll of thunder through the sky before the clouds let loose a torrent of rain. Your only saving grace was that the rainfall was not ice cold, but lukewarm. Your other concern was that where there was thunder, there would be lightning. At least you weren’t the tallest thing in the area though, a tree was more likely to be struck than you were. But that would be the cherry on top of your shitty day wouldn’t it, to be struck by lighting as well? 

But, just as your hopes were about as low and hell, you spotted something in the distance. The structure was familiar, you were certain you had seen those peaked roofs and stone walls many times before. Yesterday you had been driving on the highway when you passed the country club, and now you were certain that’s where you were. Where you stood now and once been home to a highway, and mere miles away was the country club you had passed everyday on your way to work. 

If you were lucky, the staff would take pity on you and maybe you could shower and get some food in you before you called the authorities to deal with those intruders of yours. 

By the time you finally made it up to the country club, you were completely soaked to the bone. The only pieces of clothing you had on, being your underwear and your oversized t-shirt, were drenched with water. You looked like a drowned rat if you were being honest with yourself. 

But, even in your panicked and miserable state, you took notice of a few things. The signs that once held directions and the name of the club were gone, nothing there that even hinted at their prior existence. The parking lot was long gone as well, not to mention the caged in tennis courts and the golf grounds. It was all missing. The only thing that stood as familiar to you was the large, Victorian manor itself, and the grand water fountain in the center of the roundabout. This roundabout was made of gravel though, instead of the cement you remembered it being. And, to your disdain, the tiny pieces of gravel had returned to puncture the delicate skin of our feet once more. 

You were tired, you were cranky, and you were wet. All you wanted to do at this point was run inside and collapse on the polished floor.  

You sped over the gravel as fast as you could before running up the stone steps, sliding under the cover of the roof that was fixed over the front door. You raised your hand up and curled your numb fingers around the door knocker. And, with difficulty, you swung the door knocker against the rich wood of the front door frantically. If there was a doorbell you would have been annoyingly ringing it nonstop, so you had to settle for banging the door knocker violently instead. 

While you were mid swing the door was ripped open violently, your soaked form almost being tugged inside as you were still attached to the knocker. A man stood in front of you, he too was dressed in a three piece suit, gloves adorning his hands and polished oxfords sitting under the hem of his pant legs. His suit was much finer than the butler’s from before, but the expression on his face was just as, if not even more, stern than the butler that came before him. 

“Please,” You huffed out, using your best pleading gaze. “I need help.”

“I think you are mistaken, miss. I do not believe you have any business with the master of this estate.” He responded coolly, a harsh edge to his tone. 

“Wait please!” You cried as he backed away and attempted to shut the door. You gripped the door frame, wedging your arm in place to keep it from closing. “I just need to use your phone.”

“I’m sorry miss, but -”

“Claude? Who’s at the door?” Another voice echoed from inside. 

“Please, can I come in for just a second?!” You called inside as you heard the click of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Master, I think it would be best if you let me take care of this.” 

“It’s alright, Claude, step aside.” The voice responded. The butler, Claude, edged away from the door in uncertainty before disappearing inside the depths of the club. 

Seconds later, a new man replaced him, opening the door much wider than the butler had. Your heart dropped into your stomach in astonishment and embarrassment. He was probably the most attractive man you had ever had the privilege of seeing and for a moment you were convinced you had fallen into an alternate universe because all of the men you had seen on a daily basis were nothing in comparison to him. 

He was rather tall with tan skin, dark hair, and a set of dangerous dimples. It took everything in you to restrain yourself from delicately poking one of those smooth craters in his cheeks that was calling out to you. 

With a sudden jolt you realized he had been staring at you just as intently as you had been staring at him. His lips had parted and his eyes had darkened. You could feel his gaze traveling over the dips of your collarbones and the exposed flesh of your legs and arms before settling on the thin fabric that stretched over your chest. 

Heat instantly flooded beneath the skin of your face, your arms crossing over your chest. In your moment of hysteria you had forgotten your lack of bra and the rain. You were sure this man had seen more than you had wanted to show him. 

His tongue swiped over his lower lip at your action, his dark, half lidded eyes flicking up to meet your own in a rather sensual stare. 

“Are you a lady of the night?” He asked, his voice deeper than before. 

Ah, that was a term that you had become rather accustomed to today. Well it’s synonyms at least: heathen, harlot, and now lady of the night. 

“No!” You cried in frustration, you had no issues with sex workers, what you did have an issue with was that because of your state of dress everyone had come to assume you were looking for some!

“Please, I just need help.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping from the stress you had endured all day. 

The look in his eyes had all but disappeared after your omission of the truth. You were not a lady of the night, you were just scared, confused, and in need of help. 

“Come inside.” He said, opening the door wider. 

You looked up at him in surprise, shocked to see a gentle smile gracing his lips. Before he could regret offering you shelter, you hastily entered the front room, your arms still wrapped securely around you as you felt the warmth of the building rush through you. 

Yet again, though, you noticed things were different. The front desk was gone, the signs pointing to the bathrooms and the changing rooms were missing, and there weren’t any people other than yourself and the man that stood before you.

“Where is everyone?” You asked him, turning to face the man as he closed the door behind the two of you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked you, equally as confused as you were. 

“This is a country club...where are all of the guests?” 

“Country club?” He laughed, his dimples becoming more prominent as his eyes filled with mirth. “This is my home, there isn’t a country club for miles.”

“What?” You whispered to yourself, the water from your shirt sliding off of you and tapping against the wood of the floor rhythmically. 

“They’re still fairly new after all, not many around here I’m afraid. You must be lost then?” He mused. 

“What do you mean they’re new? They’ve been around for years, this is one. I’ve been here numerous times!” You explained, exasperated. 

“Are you feeling well, miss?” He asked, stepping closer to you without letting his gaze wander as it had before. 

No, you weren’t feeling well at all, you were incredibly fucking confused. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, none at all. Country clubs weren’t new, they had been around for over a century now. 

And that was when it all began to make sense. All of the pieces suddenly had fallen into place. All the houses on your street were gone, the shopping center, the highway, the signs and the parking lot were missing from the country club. Your phone was unable to get a signal in the hours that had passed. You had encountered four strangers that spoke in a manner you had not heard often and dressed like they were from a different era. 

“What - what year is it?” You asked, your body trembling now from anxiety and from your wet shirt. 

“1891, of course.” He responded, his face appearing even more confused than it had before. He was looking at you in concern as well, he wasn’t sure why you would be asking him such an obvious and ridiculous question. 

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say as you began to stumble backwards, your legs going weak underneath you as you slumped to the ground. Your vision was focusing and un-focusing, your head feeling light as you could faintly hear his panicked voice in front of you. It was beginning to sound further and further away though as your bare thighs met the cold, wood floor beneath you. 

You were having a stressful day.

~~~~~~~

When you woke it was to a cold compress against your forehead and the feeling of a plush mattress beneath you. For a moment you thought that you were at home again, that the past few hours had all been some fever dream and your grandfather was taking care of you in your state. 

But the feeling of the thin, silver chain still wrapped around your fingers assured you otherwise. That had not been a dream in the slightest. 

You jerked forward, the cold cloth flying onto your lap as your hands scrambled across the top of the duvet reflexively searching for your phone. 

“It’s alright, relax, you’ll only worsen your condition!” A voice seethed as hands settled on your shoulders and coaxed you back against the pillows behind you. 

It was him again, the man with the dimples. 

“You have a fever, it won’t do you any good to move around too much.” He lectured you, his hand waving around as he scolded you. 

You quickly caught sight of something wrapped up in his ringed fingers, it was your phone. 

“Give that back!” You yelled, snatching your phone back from his hands and holding it tight against your chest. You were glad that your phone was password protected, not that he would ever know what to do with it even if he managed to unlock it by accident. 

“What is it exactly?” He asked you as he relented, taking a seat in a chair that had been moved to your bedside. 

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.” You replied, shooting him a look that he reciprocated with shock and astoundment. He probably had never been spoken to like that before, a man with what you could only assume held power, status, and wealth. There was a part of you while still shocked at your predicament enjoyed the idea of fucking with some rich people. 

“As a guest in my home I think I have every right to know.” He shot back with a quirk of his brow, jerking his chin up. 

The audacity. So, as petty as it was, you refused to dignify his statement with a response. 

“Fine, if you won’t tell me then I’ll have to assume you don’t know what it is either and you stole it just like you did that watch. It’s to be expected of someone of your...nature.” He insinuated, his gaze flicking over your form from head to toe.

“My nature?” You replied, your skin going hot with untapped irritation. 

“Well, a prostitute of course.” He answered with such certainty it made you want to scream. 

“For fuck’s sake how many times do I have to say I’m not!” You yelled, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Well of course you are, with that way you looked coming up here you were practically naked, how could you not be a pros-”

“First of all,” you interrupted, “The proper term is sex worker and you have no right judging women who have no other choice and even if they did choose it you still have no right to demean them for taking up a profession that employs a service and receives payment for it like any other job!” 

“Secondly, the manner in which I am dressed does not mean you get to make baseless assumptions about me or my job without knowing why I look this way in the first place.”

He sat there for a moment, stunned. A long pause of silence passed between the two of you before a smile split across his face, those dimples returning in full force. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Did I ask?” You retorted, annoyed, and overall confused from his sudden change in demeanor. A voice echoed in the back of your mind that maybe he had a thing for women putting him in his place but you quickly shoved that down in embarrassment. 

“Well it’s only proper, you’re already in my bed anyways I figured you should know my name.” He replied with a boyish smirk.

You choked in confusion and shock before softly muttering your name in response. You did owe him that much, he had taken you in and taken care of you. That was the only thing you would give him though, his prior attitude still stung. 

“I’d like to inform you that despite your progressive thoughts not everyone will see eye to eye with you, miss. You’re lucky you found your way here, there’s a murderer stalking these streets.”

“A murderer?” You echoed, your blood chilling in your veins. 

“You don’t know of Jack the Ripper? That’s what the public titled him at least.” He explained. 

Holy shit, the timing was perfect. Namjoon had told you the year was 1891, whatever had caused your slip through time sent you right back into the tailend of the Jack the Ripper murders. You had been lucky that he hadn’t stumbled across you, because despite your beliefs that your attire didn’t mean anything, everyone you had met had mistaken you for a sex worker. It would be expected that the infamous ripper himself would have thought the same and your name would have joined the list of victims. 

That was too close of a call for you. 

“Has he killed recently?” You asked out of morbid curiosity, you were hoping, selfishly, that you had arrived after his last victim. 

“He’s been rather active, I should know, I’m the one investigating him.” He said, a look of irritation falling over his features as he crossed his leg over the other, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re an officer, then?” You asked. 

He responded with an annoyed snort, rolling his eyes. “Thankfully no, I’m more of a private investigator. I’ve been employed by some officials high in the government to do the work the police have been ruining as of late. How embarrassing, three years and they still haven’t managed to pin the murderer.”

Ah, so you had struck a nerve. He didn’t like the police, noted. 

“Tell me more.” You probed, your genuine curiosity winning over your unease. 

Namjoon appeared to gather himself, his gaze that had once been far off returning to you. “Detail such grizzly deaths to a lady? I’m afraid not.”

“Where I come from we don’t take sexism lightly, Namjoon. And, not to mention, I’m a journalist. Trust me, I can handle it.” What you said was true, as a journalist you were receiving a once in a lifetime opportunity, you were given the chance to witness the investigation of the world’s most well known cold case.  

“You’re a strange woman, unlike any other I’ve ever met before.” He said softly, an amused light in his eyes.

“You’d be surprised just how much we are capable of.” You shot back. 

“Fair enough,” He smiled, enthralled with the back and forth the two of you had engaged in. “I’ll tell you more in my study, I’ll send for a maid to help you dress.” He said before standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. 

“I’m interested to hear your thoughts.” He called over his shoulder before the door clicked shut. 

As soon as he left, you felt like you could breathe freely, a deep exhale of air passing between your lips.

So, you had slipped through time. Your thumb rested between your lips as you nervously chewed at your nail. You were coming to terms with the fact that somehow, some way, you had retreated into the year 1891. The next issue that you needed to resolve was how you were going to get back to your own timeline. You didn't belong here, that was for sure. Just from your previous conversation with Namjoon you knew that you were drastically different from anyone of this era. At this point, you were sure that was bound to get you in some sort of trouble. It was probably best to lay low around people other than Namjoon who had already been exposed to your modern ideals.

As you sat, stewing in your thoughts, a series of gentle knocks echoed from the door to the bedroom. You peeled the sheets away from your body and stilled for a moment. Somebody had changed your clothes. Where you had once worn your faded tour shirt you were now dressed in a long, flowing, silk nightgown that just brushed the tops of your toes. It was rather pretty and ridiculously comfortable but that didn't lessen your anxiety from having a new state of dress from what you had passed out in.

Another set of knocks, less gentle ones this time, spurred you to move faster. As soon as your bare feet met the plush carpet beneath you, you rushed to the door. Upon opening it, a maid stood there. She held a few items in her arms, her face obscured by the dense pile of fabric she cradled. Without saying a word you moved aside and held the door open for her. You could faintly hear her mumble out a weak thank you, muffled by what she held.

She shuffled over to the bed and dropped everything on top of the mattress with a heave that swung her small body with it.

"Alright, Miss. Are you ready?" She asked, turning to face you with a pleasant smile.

"Ready for what exactly?" You replied.

"Well, to dress you of course."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, that was something you had conveniently forgotten, people of higher status like your host did not dress themselves in this period.

"Oh, that's alright, I can manage on my own."

"Are you certain?" She asked, an apprehensive look crossing her features as she stopped laying out the clothing items, her hands halting over a corset.

Fuck.

"On second thought I would love the help." Yeah, there was no fucking way you were learning to lace that thing on your own.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a struggle it would have been to dress yourself had you not appreciated the help the maid had given you. In Victorian fashion, layers were undeniable and you couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of how hot these women had to get in the warmer months. 

You had also assumed the corset would have been troublesome, given how you always heard about its bad rep via movies and literature. In reality, it was quite comfortable. It wasn’t overbearingly tight and you could breathe perfectly fine without a single hint of dizziness. You couldn’t help but ask the maid about this in astonishment. 

She giggled as she smoothed your dress, “Tightlacing you mean? Why, is there someone you’re trying to impress?”

Your face burned with heat at her insinuation, “No, no, I was just curious.”

“It is quite fashionable, but not very practical, no?” She said with a hint of a smile as she stepped back from you. “Well, if that’s all you’ll be needing of me the master is waiting for you in his study, would you like me to escort you? It’s not very far.”

“Oh no, I’m sure I’ve distracted you enough, if you could just point the way that’d be very much appreciated.” 

“Of course!” She chirped, guiding you into the hallway of the manor. “Just head straight down that way, it’s the door at the very end of the hall!”

“Thank you for all of your help.” You smiled gratefully before your turn and began your walk through the hallway. 

The manor was gorgeous with pane glass windows that stretched from the length of the floor to just below the ceiling that were framed with thick, velvet curtains. The floor beneath your shoes was parquet and a deep mahogany that shone proudly in the daylight that filtered into the hallway. You had not seen all of the manor but you knew, just from this glimpse, that the rest of it radiated wealth and power just like its master. 

The clicking of your shoes against the polished hardwood echoed down the length of the corridor as you approached the doors to the study. You had never been to this floor of the manor in your timeline, it had been long since roped off and only elite members were allowed access. Now, it appeared you could roam freely to your heart's content. 

Your knuckles brushed against the door, three knocks in quick succession sounding out into the quiet hallways and study. 

“Come in.” Namjoon called, his voice steady yet distracted. 

You pulled the heavy doors open and slipped into the study. Upon entering you noticed a number of things, for one the study resembled that of a library. The space was vast with bookshelves towering over you as well as everything else in the room. 

Namjoon was seated behind a desk, his fingers resting at his temples while he flipped through a set of papers placed on the surface of the table. While the rest of the manor had appeared clean, almost sterile really, this space had gone untouched by the staff. Various books laid open or bookmarked on the floors, couches, and his desk. 

Upon further inspection you noticed textbooks and medical journals strewn about, anatomy pages glaring back at you. 

“Are you a doctor, Namjoon?” You asked, lifting one of the textbooks up to get a closer look at what he had been reading. 

“A doctor?” He laughed, “I consider myself to be more of a scholar, really-”

Whatever else he had meant to say ceased, the words failing to part his lips. He was looking at you again, not unlike the way he had looked at you when you had appeared on his doorstep scantily clad and drowning in a torrent of rain. 

He made you uncomfortable. 

“Look at you, looking like a lady. You could have fooled me if I did not know any better.” He said, the corner of his lips tugging up into a sarcastic grin. 

“Such a gentleman.” You huffed with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “If you’re not a doctor then what is the point in reading things like this?”

“To catch a killer, you must think like a killer.” He hummed, tapping the tip of his forefinger against the side of his head. 

“You’ll never catch him.” You said, the words escaping you before you could even think about the repercussions they would have. 

“And why would you think that?” He asked, his eyes narrowing with a challenging look to them, the irises were dark and sent a cold chill down the length of your spine. 

“Call it intuition.” You replied, thinking quickly on your feet. “If countless others who are far more qualified and knowledgeable have failed to find him, it’s improbable one individual will bring him down.” 

You had unknowingly just challenged his intellect, if this were a dance you would have quite literally just stepped on your partner's toes. 

Namjoon stood quickly, his chair shooting back as he rounded the desk and approached you. You stumbled backwards in surprise but did not manage to dodge him as he matched your pace. His hands had settled on your waist, spinning you around to pull you back into his chest. 

His voice was soft and mellow beside your ear as he spoke, “Each victim was a prostitute, all found in the east end of town. Already there is a location and a motive, no?” 

“Now, here is what I find interesting.” He hummed, swiftly gripping your chin and pushing your head back onto his shoulder. His fingers ever so lightly brushed down the column of your throat before drawing a line across it from left to right. 

“Immediately he slits their throat, and right after? Disembowelment.” He said, his other hand that was settled on your waist migrated to your lower abdomen, his fingers caressing another line over the clothed flesh. 

“Most people, those ‘investigators’ for example, would say he hates women. But on the contrary, I think he is quite fascinated. With every murder he takes something that is uniquely theirs, would you happen to know what that is?” 

“Their womb.” You managed to say. You were trembling and you were certain that he could feel it. He was scaring you, the reality of your situation was suddenly becoming rather apparent. 

That could have been you. 

“Exactly, and to do something like that you would need some medical background, especially considering the speed and technique with which he does it.” He confirmed, his hands resting on your waist once more, this time turning you to face him. 

“So, if I were a ripper who was fascinated by women, where would I be?”

“Well...everywhere?” You replied, stepping out of his hold.

“Yes and no. We have a pattern and a motive, someone who is targeting prostitutes in the East End. My money would be on a hub for illicit activities, and with my sources I have a clue as to where he will strike next.”

That piqued your interest. “And where would that be?”

“If I know anything, it’s that the rich don’t like to follow rules and love a good party. Every now and then viscounts, dukes, and aristocrats alike will gather and dabble in illicit activities together. These parties change location every now and again, but most commonly we see them in the East End. Chances are, we can find a doctor with devious intentions at the hub of them. So, do I seem qualified to you?”

“This was your way of proving your capability to me?” You huffed, shaking your head. 

“Yes, and it appeared to work.” He smiled, leaning back against his desk with his arms spread behind him on  its surface. 

“Well, luckily for you, I’m interested.” You responded, jutting your chin out as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Interested?” He echoed.

“If you want to catch a killer, what better way is there to do so than draw him out?”

“You’re offering yourself as bait? Are you neurotic?!” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side as he popped off of his desk. “Do you really think I would allow that in good conscience?” 

“I don’t need your permission to do anything, Namjoon. What I am offering is an agreement of mutual satisfaction. You get a way to bait the killer and I get the story of a lifetime.”

You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

“So, do we have a deal? You asked, extending your hand out to him. 

The silence that hung between the two of you was unsettling. His dark eyes lingered on your hand for a moment before flicking up to your face and back down. His lips were pursed in thought and you could tell he was debating with himself heavily. There was a soft ringing in your ears as the quiet stretched on. 

A sudden smile spread over his face, one that you thought almost appeared devious. He laughed to himself and then shook his head before breaching the space between you and gripping your much smaller hand in his own. He gave your hand a firm shake before tugging you forwards and pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand with a grin. 

“We have a deal.” He confirmed. 

“What a fucking flirt.” You grumbled to yourself beneath your breath, anxiously sliding your hand over the fabric of your skirt. “So, when will this party take place?”

“One week from now.” He said, raising his hand to hold up one finger. 

That was much longer than you had wanted to spend in the Victorian era. Far much longer. 

“And what will we do in the meantime?” 

“Well investigate, of course.”

~~~~~~~

Days had passed in Namjoon’s company, and for all of the investigating the three of you (Namjoon, Claude, and yourself) had done, no results were accomplished. But, on the other hand no murders had been committed in the East End. 

You were halfway through the week until the party, and despite your efforts there was absolutely nothing. You were becoming as frustrated as the inhabitants of the East End as well as your fellow investigators. Among all of your “resources,” you were caught at a dead end just as the police were. 

You had heard of Jack the Ripper in your youth, you were once an avid true crime fan. But, for the life of you, you could not remember who the next victim was and where their corpses would be found. And for all you knew, protecting that individual would only cause someone else to lose their life. Time was tricky and fickle, and if it was set in stone, it did not matter who would die so long as someone was drafted into the void. 

You assumed. 

Your host had been...strange, to put it simply. You had thought to yourself that that was just in his nature, he was easily distracted, unfocused, yet insanely intelligent. But his mannerisms were unusual. He seemed completely unfazed by the case he had been assigned to, the only moments in which he showed a visceral response were when he dealt with you, or the police force. He hated them intensely, you could only assume because of how ineptly they were handling the case itself. 

And, most frequently, you found yourself going head to head with him. And boy, did he enjoy the challenge. And, if you were bold enough to admit it, you would say he derived pleasure from the arguments the two of you would get into. He would constantly fix you with that confident smirk, the one that told you he believed he was always one step ahead of you. And fuck, did it piss you off. And he was very much aware of that. He loved a good challenge and you were far different from any of the women he knew of. 

He often wondered how far he could push you before you snapped. 

And if his cocky behavior wasn’t enough to piss you off, it was how much of a blatant flirt he was. There was nothing more frustrating than someone arguing with you while flirting with you at the same time. And your constant refusal and rebuttal to his advances only seemed to fuel the fire. 

The cover of night time became your one refuge, that was when you had an excuse to stay away from him. You could have the whole night to yourself and be free of him until the morning. 

Usually. 

Normally, you slept through the night. But for some reason your body woke you. It was either late at night or extremely early in the morning. No sunlight entered the room, it was still incredibly dark. 

At first, everything appeared to be perfectly normal. That was of course until you noticed a figure seated in the chair by your window mere feet away. You immediately jumped and began to scramble backwards out of the bed, the sheets twisting around your legs and slowing you down. 

It was the call of your name that made you freeze. 

Namjoon was sitting in your room at an ungodly hour...watching you. 

“Namjoon?” You hissed, pulling the sheets back up to your chin. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He answered, pressing his palms onto the armrests and pushing himself up to stand. 

“I really wish you would have.” You grunted, pulling the blanket around you even tighter. “Do you know how creepy you -”

“Two more women are dead.”

Silence. 

“What happened?” You whispered, your fingers going limp. 

“One woman was murdered late last night and the other an hour ago. It was a double event.” His tone was flat, completely absent of affect. 

The three of you could only hold him off for so long, and it looks like he lashed out as soon as he was given the chance. Two women within the span of a few hours were killed, and you couldn’t help but feel like that was your fault. 

No matter what you do, someone will die. 

“What do we do now?” You asked, sullenly looking to him from your point on the bed. 

“We have to go meet with the authorities.” He answered, distaste evident in his voice when he uttered the word ‘authorities.’ 

“Come, we don’t have much time.” He urged you, snapping the sheets back to the foot of the bed while pulling you up to your feet. 

You stumbled as he tugged you forward, your head spinning from the sudden motion. You were struggling to see, your eyes still heavy with sleep despite the dreadful news you had heard. The feeling of his hands at the back of your nightdress certainly shocked you awake. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snapped, smacking his hands away from you. 

He appeared frustrated, his eyes dark and his face set in irritation at your refusal. “I just told you, we don’t have much time. All of the maids are still asleep, it’s far too early to call one of them for help and you certainly don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“I can manage on my own, I don’t need your ‘help’.” You argued, stepping away from him in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. “You don’t know the first thing about women’s clothes anyways.”

His jaw tensed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before releasing an annoyed sigh. “Trust me I have undone a few corsets in my time, it’s not as difficult as you make it out to be.” 

“And just as I said, I can dress myself I am not a fucking child.” 

Before you could move his arm shot forward and his hand wrapped around your forearm tightly. Despite your struggling he yanked you towards him, his other hand gripping your elbow. 

“As stupid and insufferable as you like to think I am, I know you are not from here.” He said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. “You don’t speak, act, or even walk like you are from here. The more you hide from me the harder this is going to be. You need help, now you can either be a brat and I have to force you to do as I say, or you can play along and we can get this done and get to work. It’s up to you.”

He had just told you he knew you were a time traveler without explicitly saying it. At least that was the way you took it. But the way in which he spoke to you did not seem to insinuate that he meant that you were a foreigner. Many of your interactions with him would have led him to believe you were from a different time and, not to mention, you had done a terrible job of hiding your phone from him the first day you arrived. You had done a poor job of concealing that from someone as smart as him. 

“And what if I don’t want you to see me?” You tried one last time. 

“It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t already seen.”

So, he was the one who had changed you the first day you had arrived in 1891. There were many red flags waving in the back of your head, and like an idiotic bull you had failed to recognize a single one of them. Some journalist you were, you had missed all of the finite details. 

“Turn around.” He finally said, his voice firm. 

And, with no other choice, you did. It was incredibly awkward on your end. Despite the attractiveness of your host, you had no desire for him to strip and dress you. Unfortunately for you, he did not care. You understood the urgency to leave and your little spat had already delayed your departure. But you were a person who valued your dignity and autonomy, you weren’t built to live in a society such as this one. 

You tried your best not to focus on the feeling of his touch, but it was incredibly hard to ignore. Instead of touching you as little as possible, it felt like he took every chance to caress, graze, and linger on every inch of bared skin. 

For a moment, all movement stilled. You were only halfway dressed, your corset exposing everything upwards of your chest leaving your collarbones, arms, shoulders, and neck on display. You shuddered at the sudden feeling of fingers smoothing over the column of your throat, not unlike the incident in Namjoon’s study. 

He was absolutely quiet as he pressed his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, softly breathing in and out as his fingers continued to stroke the skin of your throat from left to right in a gentle, slow, sawing motion. Your heart was pumping frantically in your chest in what could only be described as fear. Your back was ramrod straight, a harsh line in comparison to the relaxed form behind you. 

Why were you so afraid of him? It was like every nerve and muscle in your form was begging you to leap away and run for your life. But he wasn’t dangerous, right?

You jolted at the feeling of lips just brushing against your shoulder as he pulled away from you and finished helping you dress, far quicker than he had been before. His demeanor was suddenly resigned, professional, and cold. It was like he had suddenly mustered a sense of self control in mere seconds. 

Who exactly was Kim Namjoon?

Said man was retreating in the direction of your bedroom door, his hand grasping the doorknob as he called over his shoulder, “Meet me out front, and please be quick about it.”

That was when a thought suddenly intruded your mind. 

“Namjoon? How did you get into my room? The door was locked.”

He stiffened for a moment, his hand tightening around the doorknob causing the muscle to strain and his knuckles to whiten. He said nothing, his head jerked to the side for a moment like he was gesturing in disbelief. 

He raised his head and stared at you, and then without saying anything, he left. 

~~~~~~~

You stared at the face of your pocket watch, the delicate chain wrapped around your gloved fingers. The hands of the watch were still, the familiar ticking of the watch was silent. It was like time had completely stopped. And in a way, maybe it had. 

The carriage halted to a stop spurring you to snap the watch cover closed and pin it back into place. 

Your companion quickly exited and stood outside, reaching his hand out to you to help guide you from the compartment. Despite the sudden animosity between the two of you, you placed your hand in his own and allowed him to help you down. The layered skirts of your dress swirled around your ankles, they were heavy and made it hard to climb in and out of transportation. Begrudgingly, you managed to say your thanks between gritted teeth. 

“Try to behave.” He whispered beside your ear offering his arm to you. 

You hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead the way. If you had it your way you would be fifteen feet in front of him carving your own path through the East End. But, your lack of knowledge of Victorian etiquette had already managed to get you in trouble and the last thing that you needed was more trouble. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, quickening your pace to match his long strides. 

“The previous crime scene has already been cleaned up by the task force, but the one from this morning is still intact. I have been instructed to go over their findings as well as conduct my own investigation.” He explained. 

“Alright, what can I do?” 

“What you can do is stay right here.” He instructed, bringing the two of you to a stop at the mouth of a narrow alleyway. It was already blocked off, warning the public to steer clear of the area. 

“You have to be kidding? You really expect me to wait here for you while you go and investigate? I don’t take kindly to being told to just sit and look pretty, Namjoon.” You glared. 

Namjoon titled his head back and let out a sound of annoyance, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically with an exasperated sigh. “For once, will you please listen to me? This is an active investigation and I am asking you, a civilian, to stay put. I swear, I will tell you everything you need to know for your story, alright?” 

Another bitter silence passed between the two of you. He knew you were incredibly dissatisfied with what he had said. But he was just as stubborn as you were, that being the reason the two of you butted heads so often. 

He shook his head, jaw tensed with anger as he stepped away from you heading in the direction of the alley way. 

“Stay put!” He called over his shoulder, waving his hand at you as he disappeared, his form melting into the darkness of the alley that had yet to see the glow of the early morning sunrise. 

Now that, that pissed you off. You were not some dog that would obey his every command, the more he told you not to do something the more it made you want to do it. 

You waited for a few moments, for his sake and for the very fact that it would piss him off that you refused to listen. You were an impatient woman, and you would be damned if you listened to a single thing he said. 

The air was crisp and cool with the lack of sunlight, your breath fogging the space in front of you as you slunk down the dark alleyway. You could hear Namjoon’s voice echoing down the brick tunnel, he sounded enraged. There were several other voices attempting to speak over him, but they were evidently failing. 

And then there was the smell, it was horrid. The cramped space was packed full of the scent, it was indescribable. The only prominent smell that was familiar was the tangy, coppery odor of blood thick in the morning air. 

But what you hadn’t been expecting was that the body was still there, slumped against the ground haphazardly like it was nothing more than trash. An officer was still there, knelt down next to her body. He was prodding her flesh with a grimace, holding a handkerchief over his nose to block out the scent. 

“Christ, she’s still warm!” He called out, jumping up to head back to the investigators while giving you a full view of the carnage laid out before you. “He could still be close by!”

Multiple sensations bombarded you at once. A scream was caught in your throat as your stomach began to churn from the sight before you. You raised a gloved hand to cover your nose and mouth as you leaned against the wall, your knees feeling weak. 

It was bad, worse than you could have possibly imagined. 

There was blood, more blood than you had ever seen in your entire life. And whatever it was that was laying before you just barely looked human. But the parts that did look familiar was what made it so unsettling, so wrong, so horrifying. 

Namjoon was calling your name. 

You were still in shock when he grabbed you, his hand cupping the back of your neck and forcing your face into his chest blocking the grotesque view you once had. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders, cradling you closer to him. 

“Her...her face.” You stuttered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Are you that inept at your jobs that you couldn’t keep a civilian from entering a fucking crime scene?!” He yelled over your head, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. 

“I told you to stay put.” He mumbled, his lips pressed to the crown of your head while his thumb stroked the side of your face as you shook in his hold. This was the gentlest he had ever been with you. 

You had never seen anything like that before. Whatever words he had spoken were falling on deaf ears, a sharp ring was echoing throughout your head, numb tears streaking your face and ruining his jacket. 

You could feel his hands slide to the curve of your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him and only him. 

“From now on, you listen to me, okay?” He said, his eyes darting over your face to make sure you were retaining what he was saying. 

You weren’t sure what was more concerning to you. The fact that he was suddenly so gentle with you, or the fact that he paid no mind to the corpse mere feet away from the two of you. 

There was something wrong with Kim Namjoon. 

~~~~~~~

Whatever investigation Namjoon had managed to conduct during your moments of shellshock provided nothing new. The choice of murder was the same, albeit the brutality was by far the worst of all the victims before. 

Her body had been warm indicating the perpetrator could still have been close by, but despite that knowledge the search parties could not find the culprit that had been described. There was no man covered in blood hiding in the shadows of the East End, he had disappeared like he had never been there in the first place. 

A few days after the murder had taken place, Namjoon had informed you the killer had made contact. His face was grim as he described what had transpired. A letter and a parcel had arrived addressed to the taskforce, inside was what appeared to be a human kidney and a letter signed with a flourish, “Jack The Ripper.”

He was playing with them. 

Your dreams were plagued with the memories of the sights you had seen that day in the early morning light of the alleyway. And instead of forcing you into submission, it made you angry. The initial sight had rendered you imobile, weak, and defenseless. You had never seen a human look like that. But with each dream you dreamt as the week melted away, you festered in guilt and rage. 

Your fellow Victorian journalists had called him a monster, but you knew better. He was not a monster, he was a coward preying on women in the veil of darkness. Cowards harmed the weak and the defenseless, he was a caricature of a monster. 

And you wanted nothing more than to rip the Halloween mask off of that faux monster. 

This thought is what lent you strength as you and Namjoon reentered the East End, prepared to once and for all unmask the killer that had escaped the two of you. 

You were dressed expensively, and rather salaciously, to blend in with the aristocrats around you. Namjoon and Claude appeared comfortable in the environment and it made you wonder if this had not been their first time attending an illicit party. Namjoon had explained to you before that he was often hired by government officials to do the jobs the police often failed to do, so it would not be unexpected if he had been there more than once. 

You were bombarded by various sights that had you sticking close to your companions. When Namjoon said “illicit” parties, he meant it. The amount of illegal activities taking place was astounding. No matter where you looked, something was going on. Various partygoers were drinking unmarked liquids, inhaling unidentified substances, or swapping large amounts of money for some unknown service (although you had an inkling as to what they may be). 

At one point in the night you had tried to locate a bathroom only for Namjoon to pull you away from the door you had attempted to open. 

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” He said with an all knowing, tight lipped grin. 

“Really, and why not?” You asked, your hand resting on your cinched waist. 

“I didn’t picture you as one for...group activities.” 

“Group activities...there’s an orgy in there?!” You whisper yelled, frantically wiping your hand on your skirts with wide eyes. 

Namjoon wheezed out a laugh, guiding you away from the room and back towards the center of the pseudo ballroom. “What can I say, this is a sinner’s paradise.” 

“Sinner’s paradise, more like Chlamydia’s Palace.” You huffed, your cheeks hot. 

Namjoon laughed again only to be stopped by the presence of his butler, Claude. His hand concealed his mouth as he whispered something to Namjoon. Whatever it was he said seemed to please Namjoon while also provoking an indescribable look to wash over his handsome features.

As soon as Claude stepped back, Namjoon spoke. “I need you to stay right here, okay? Don’t talk to anyone, don’t drink anything, just keep to yourself until I return.” 

Your eyebrows pinched together in irritation and confusion, “But, Namjoon -”

“Remember what happened the last time you refused to listen to me?” He snapped, raising his eyebrows in emphasis. 

You pressed your lips together, turning your head to the side. Yes, you did remember what had happened the last time you ignored his instructions. 

Namjoon sighed, propping his finger under your chin and turning your head to look at him. “Please, trust me on this one thing.”

You thought to yourself for a moment, the last time you didn’t listen it hadn’t exactly gone well for you. This was just one thing he was asking of you after all of the things he had done for you, he was asking for just one moment of cooperation. 

You lowered his hand from your chin and took a breath. “Okay, I trust you.” 

A look of pure elation erupted on his face. He gave you a wide grin, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. 

“I’ll be back.” He said before retreating into the crowd with Claude following close behind. 

And then you were alone, but not alone for nearly long enough. 

Your hands fiddled with the pocket watch your grandfather had gifted you as you walked, your head down and your gaze focused on the glass face of the watch. It was almost like everything had gone wrong after he had died and left it in your possession. 

Far too distracted from your internal thoughts and the presence of the watch, you missed the incoming form barreling towards you. Within seconds you were knocked to the floor, the layers of your skirts luckily breaking your fall. 

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry, my bad! In a rush, I’m quite late I’m afraid.” The voice rushed out, a slight wheeze accompanying it as he appeared breathless. 

You felt two hands grasp your own and carefully help you into an upright position. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You said, irritation clear in your tone. 

“No really! Forgive me, it’s my mistake.” He said.

You adjusted your dress, making sure all of the important bits were in place before finally looking up to see who exactly this man was. 

You were not expecting it to be him. Not at all. 

“Grandpa?” You asked softly, taken aback. 

It was him, he looked years younger than when you had last seen him, but it was him. You had gone through countless scrapbooks as a child and the face that was staring back at you was the younger version of the man that had raised you. 

“What?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shook. 

Your gaze zeroed in on the chain of the watch clipped to his pocket. And, without saying a word, you pulled your own watch free and showed it to him. 

All mirth completely left his body, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. His lips parted in shock and distress as his eyes traced over his own initials carved into your watch. His hand patted his own chest frantically as he pulled the watch free and held it beside your own. 

They were identical, down to every nick and scratch in the silver finish. 

“How did you get here?” He asked, his voice low and serious in a way you had never heard before. “Did they send you?” 

“Did who send me? Nobody sent me. I just woke up here, other people were living in my house and everything was gone.” You explained as he pulled you to a corner of the ballroom. 

“This isn’t right,” He mumbled, flipping open his own watch. “You’re a time anomaly, there can’t be two of us here at the same time.”

“Two of us?” You echoed. 

“Time travelers, dear, it runs in the family I’m afraid. What was I thinking about giving that to you without explaining?” He said, his words flying so quickly to the point that you were struggling to keep up. 

“Then let’s leave, show me how to get out of here! There has to be a way!”

“You can’t just leave, you’re here for a purpose, you didn’t just come here by accident.” He said as a blue glow began to steadily thrum and pulse from his watch. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? What, what’s happening?”

“I have to go, I’m being called back. Whatever you do, you cannot change anything, do you understand? Who are you staying with, what have you done?” 

“I haven’t changed anything that I know of. I’ve been staying with Kim Namjoon.”

His eyes widened as the watch began to pulse even stronger than before. “Kim Namjoon! Listen to me, you need to go, you need to get as far away as possible he -”

But before he could finish what he was saying he disappeared. It was like he had blipped out of existence, like he had never been there at all. 

You spun around in a circle, trying to see if he was truly gone. All of the party goers did not appear to be phased, it was like they hadn’t seen a single thing that occurred. How was that possible? Fuck that, how was any of this possible?

All you knew was that you were going to follow his advice and get the fuck out of there and out of the East End. 

You forced yourself through the thick crowds of people, pushing, checking, and elbowing away anyone that got in your way. You winced as one particular shove sent a whole glass of wine pouring down the cleavage and dress of one inebriated woman. It didn’t really matter though, you were sure she could afford another one with the way she had been slamming back drinks all night. 

You threw open various doors in an attempt to find a way out, each time you were met with an increasingly more disgusting or disturbing sight. You didn’t even know some of those positions were possible for fuck’s sake. 

Finally, when you threw open a door you were met with the smell of crisp, fresh air. A way out. 

It was a slim alleyway of the East End, just barely illuminated by the crescent moon that hung in the pitch black darkness of the sky. A sudden sense of paranoia washed over you, the last time you were in an alleyway it had ended poorly. But you knew you didn’t have time to think about that. 

Oh, if only you did. 

The minute your heeled feet met the ground you were greeted with that all too familiar scent. There was blood nearby and lots of it. You could hear shuffling a few yards away, and you knew that you fucked up. 

Your throat felt tight as you attempted to swallow, you were certain you could taste the blood on your tongue from how strong the smell was. And, when you finally turned to face whatever was in that alley, you were horrified. 

A few yards away you spotted three figures, two on the ground and one leaning against the wall. And beneath the three of them, a crimson river steadily flowed through the cobblestone. 

You took a step back, your heels scuffing the stone spurring only two of the figures to look up at you. A scream bubbled in your chest at what you saw. Claude was hunched over the figure of a woman, blood splattered over his face and down the leather apron he wore over his clothes. You could see bloodied tools in his grip as he settled back on his hunches, pausing his motions mid incision.

And then there was Namjoon, the once blank look he wore on his face suddenly lighting up with intrigue at the sight of you. 

“Claude? Why don’t you take the lady home.” He spoke, gesturing to the corpse. 

Claude looked between you and Namjoon for a moment, appearing conflicted. But he did not hesitate any longer as he scooped up the woman’s corpse and retreated down in the dark depths of the alley. 

Namjoon was quick as he approached you, you barely made it a few feet away before he grabbed you by your forearms and pinned you up against the wall, hushing you as panicked cries parted your painted lips. 

“I’m sorry, darling. But, I did tell you to stay put didn’t I?”

“Why?” You managed to say as you trembled in his hold, ugly sobs wracking your entire form. 

“Women only want me for one thing I’m afraid. My money. I thought that maybe I could help those women who had nothing, that they could give me love in return if they didn’t know who I was. But they were just the same, motivated by money. I would give them my love and beg them to stop selling themselves but they just wouldn’t listen to me. Every single one of them failed my little test. They were greedy, and selfish. They didn’t deserve to be women. So, I hurt them just like they hurt me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, you could only focus on the rising feeling of panic in your chest. 

“I knew someone would eventually catch on to what was happening. But how ironic was it that they assigned me to the case out of all people? Those fucking investigators are so inept they never saw it coming. And Claude, well his loyalty was extremely helpful. If you don’t want to be caught, don’t commit the crime yourself.” He whispered. 

“All I wanted was to give them my love, but each and every single one of them broke my heart. All of them except for you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek that made you violently flinch. 

“You were such a little spitfire, and when you showed up to my door I thought I was going to have to kill you on sight. But you proved me wrong, you’re the only one deserving of my love.”

A blue light suddenly lit up the space between you, the glow of the watch casting sinister shadows over the ripper's face. 

Immediately he reached for the watch at the same time as you, and without much effort he wrenched the watch free from your hands and shoved you down to the ground. Your head met the stone first and on impact black spots blurred your vision.

The watch pulsed vibrantly in his hands, humming like a heartbeat. A wicked laugh shook his shoulders as he flipped the face open. 

“So this is how you did it?” He asked, swinging the watch by it’s chain recklessly. 

“Namjoon, don't’!” You cried, struggling to stand. 

But it was too late. A feral scream ripped its way out of your throat as you watched him slam the watch into the ground and violently dig the heel of his shoe into it. The glass shattered, the metal bent, and the blue glow stuttered, weakly thrumming before fizzling out and plunging the alley into darkness. 

The ripper stalked down the alley and stood over you, a viscous smile pulling at his cheeks as he slowly tilted his head to the side. 

“Don’t look so surprised my love, there is only one way I’d ever let you leave me.”