#and it's not like 'oh they got caught with an ounce of weed' it's more like

[love-r-boy]

okay i fixed the antigone uquiz result! the result is different now because i hadn’t saved anything in a document (fool me once) but i think i like this one better anyway. thank you to the wonderful anon who let me know!

[welldressedandfandolobsesed]

Rafe Barry prompt: what was there first ever interaction like? First impressions of each other?

Thanks ☺️

I have already done something kinda similar. If you want to read it you can look at my rafebarry tag list. But, I'm always down to write variations.

It seemed like another lifetime when Rafe and Barry first crossed paths. It was a full-on kook party. Plenty of alcohol, hot girls, and trust fund babies were abundant. But, there was one man out of place. Rafe watched as people floated around him like he was the sun and they were planets. Rafe thought he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. His dark, wavy hair was pulled up into a half bun, the rest left to fall down his shoulders. A gold chain lay around his neck and it sparkled from the light of the fire. Rafe spotted a matching gold tooth every time he smiled. It wasn't until Jackson's voice pulled him out of his thoughts that Rafe realized he was staring.

"I see you eyeing Barry over there. Provides the best weed in town. I got to introduce you."

"Oh, I'm-I'm good."

""Nah, dude. Consider it a favor."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt."

Jackson only smiled and yanked Rafe towards the log the drug dealer was sitting on, "Hey Barry! This is my friend Rafe. He's interested in some product."

"That right?"

Rafe nodded.

"Does country club over here speak?"

"What'd you call me!"

"Oh calm down, don't get your Calvin Cline underwear in a knot. Just a joke Whicha interested in."

"Just, uh, just some weed."

"Sounds about right, blondey. How much?"

"An ounce or two."

Barry nodded, ruffling around in his duffle bag before pulling out a small baggie filled with the dark green plant.

"That'll get you by for some time. And, because you're a first-time customer, I'll give it to you for crisp Benjamin."

"Hundred dollars, for that little thing?"

"Woah, buddy. This your first time buying street drugs or something? Shit's expensive. Counting for the fact that if I get caught I'm in a fair load of trouble."

Barry was right. Rafe had been high plenty of times. But, this was his first time buying. He had shared joints with hook-ups. Taken weed as payment to enter a party. Done it on a dare. There was never a need. But, here he was and at this point, he was too deep in it to back out. So he dug through his wallet before finding the bill labeled with the number one-hundred and handing it over.

"Whatever," was all he said before returning to his friends.

It was a few hours later, and Rafe and his friends and already made it through half the baggie. The hazy feeling hitting Rafe just right to start forgetting his troubles.

"So, whatcha think?" Jackson asked.

"Of what?"

"The drugs silly," he giggled.

"Oh, yeah. Guess they're pretty good."

"Pretty? Barry deserves a little more credit than that.

The haze cleared from Rafe's mind for a second. Yes, Barry. The pretty drug dealer from the cut. Someone Rafe should rather be caught dead than seen with. But, there was something about him that drew him in. Like an invisible string pulling him closer. It was a new feeling for Rafe. After his mom left he vowed to keep everyone at a distance. His closest friends were Topper and Kelce and even then were more golf and party buddies than anything else. Even still, there was something bout the draw in Barry's voice and the way he smiled that made Rafe want to get to know him better. He took another drag off the joint and suddenly remembered Jackson had asked him a question.

"It's good enough where I'll defiantly be a returning customer."

Rafe didn't know if he was talking about the drugs or the dealer. But, it didn't matter.

[writebackatya]

Indiquack??

Yeah I think got some left, how many ounces do y-

Oh, right. The fanfic bingo thing. Sure.

Ahhh, my first DuckTales fanfic! I can’t say “No one else was writing this” because I found out after I first published it that there is a weed-related DuckTales fic on fanfiction dot net and one on AO3 written by Kimberlyeab who I think has written some great DuckTales/The Venture Bros. crossover fanfics. I haven’t read either weed stories cause I don’t want to subconsciously copy what they both have done

And honestly, this whole story came from a high conversation between me and one of my sibs who watches DuckTales. It was about the boys discovering Della smoking weed; we agreed they would be chill about it because Dewey would think she’s cool, Louie also wants to smoke weed and wouldn’t mind, and Huey would be like “Oh you must have heard about the legalization of marijuana” and then Della would be like “Weed is legal now? Cool.”But then something in my brain wanted to take that situation seriously and really think how Della would handle that being a mother now with kids. And voila, Ground Control to Della Duck! was born! Pretty soon I had a bunch of other weed related stories forming in my brain

I put a LOT of research into all of these stories. For one, I want everything to be as accurate as possible, both the characters and the weed. I remember reading a weed related story in another fandom which was funny in its own right, but I disliked that when the characters smoked weed they just became a generic stoner rather than themselves but high. Which isn’t exclusive to that story, but it was something I wanted to avoid. To me Indi-Quack! wouldn’t be as funny or as entertaining if the characters weren’t in character

And yeah, I’m stoner. I occasionally smoke weed when I write these stories. But I still do research on weed (mainly use Leafly) to make sure I’m getting the effects and names right. I think Under the Influence of Gandra Dee! was the most I researched weed for

I try to write in a way for the people who don’t smoke weed can understand what the characters are feeling while the people who do smoke weed will be like “Yeah, that’s accurate”

Besides weed stuff, I did do a lot of research for other things for Indi-Quack!. Stuck in the Middle with DEW! made me do a lot of research on the Woodstock concert; which was honestly pretty fun! I looked up the event schedule, Jimi Hendrix’s set that he played, watched a few live recordings of his performance and listened to any audio I could find (VEVO and other record a-holes make finding Woodstock videos of Jimi hard to get), as well as an interview with Jimi Hendrix on his personal experience at Woodstock. I also looked up any crazy stories that might have happened there (Matilda mentions an incident with The Who in that story. Research paid off!)

Also, there are quite a bit of reference to the 87 show throughout it if you wanna count that as research

Speaking of Stuck in the Middle with DEW!, I remember back when I was writing that I was like so afraid of how people would react to Dewey eating not one, but two edibles and then tripping hard. But it turns out, people loved it!

As for the spite, well there might be a little bit of spite in it. The Dewey story was kinda inspired by the fact that the only Timephoon! stories are angsty stuff about Louie. And the final line of that story is, “That’s cool, I got grounded!”

But I do love Louie but the poor kid might have to wait awhile till he finally smokes weed

And don’t tell anyone but slowly but surely pretty soon EVERYONE in this fandom will embrace the Della and Gandra friendship that I totally know would happen if this show had at least three more seasons! Also some shipping stuff would be nice. It’s like Fenro but both are girls and tops

As for fan art, maybe? I don’t know. Shortly after I posted Do the Write Thing! I found fanart of the Three Caballeros smoking and getting caught in Uncle Scrooge’s garage while Donald is holding a notebook marked song ideas. But honestly, it’s probably just a coincidence. That scene didn’t happen in the story and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has thought of those one-hit wonders smoking in the old man’s garage

Anyway I still can’t believe how much love and attention this fic has gotten. Honestly. I never would have guessed it would have brought me where I am in the fandom to this day. Especially since I found out a good chunk of my readers don’t smoke weed!

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Strip

Gif credit @discoelitist.

Requested by @mypridefulsoul27. Hope you like it. Thanks for the request.

Taglist: @nocturnalherb16. @jesseswartzwelder. @mypridefulsoul27.

"So what are these pills called again"? Antonio asked about this new drug on the street. It already had forty overdoses under its belt and growing.

"Pez". You replied, handing him a sample of the product that you got off a dead guy.

"Like the pez candy"?

"Yeah, it even comes with it's own pez dispenser and everything. Makes it popular with the kids". You tell him as you went to put the last two overdoses on the board. They were thirteen and sixteen that had a bright future before them.

"That's Eva's and Diegos age". Antonio sighed.

"From what we know, the dealer is a strip club owner named Marco Stewart. He has connections to strip clubs, porn studios and apparently schools as well. He has a record longer than my arm. Mostly drug charges and a few DUI's, assault with a deadly weapon and a breaking and entering". You tell Antonio and the others as they started to come in.

"A model citizen". Jay chuckled.

"Yeah, his club has been shut down for redecorating and looking for new talent. So if it's alright with Voight. I was thinking I could go apply and someone else". You looked at Voight who was noddling his in approval.

"I'll go. I can go be a bartender or something". Antonio volunteered.

"They're looking for dancers and a bouncer". You tell Antonio. He lifted a eyebrow.

"Alright set it up. You sure you're cool with this, Y/N"? Voight asked.

"Yeah. I want this guy off the streets. Parents will sleep better at night". You smiled and went to get your coat.

"A stripper? Of all undercover missions I have to miss is, Y/N being a stripper. That hurts". Adam held his chest dramatically.

"Eat your heart out". You laughed as you walked past him. Antonio snickered as he followed.

Adam playfully dropped on his desk dead. Kevin and the other laughed. You were taking this serious.

"So what's your name"? Marco Stewart asked, looking you up and down. A toothpick sticking from his mouth.

"Heaven. I'm a little piece of Heaven". You batted your eyes and flirted with him.

"More like a big piece of Heaven". Marco chuckled, his eyes went to your breast.

"Oh you're so funny". You playfully hit his arm.

"You're hired. So what about your boyfriend"? Marco watched Antonio out of the corner of his eye. Antonio was looking at the stage in the club.

"His names Johnny. Just got out of the pen. Had five years but did three for good behavior". You smiled.

"What was he in for"?

"Possession of a controlled substance". Antonio turned to talk to Marco. "That's what the asshole cop said once he planted it on me". Antonio looked between you and Marco than laughed. Marco laughed as well.

"You use to deal"? Marco asked intrigued.

"Yeah back in Brooklyn. I dealed for nine years and nothing but they catch me picking up a ounce of weed for my moms and I'm in prison before I can bat my eyes. It was bullshit". Antonio put on a thick Brooklyn accent.

"Alright. You're hired too. Both you be here Friday night, six o'clock. I got something for you two do before you go on".

"Wow, thanks. I cant wait to show you my moves. I promise it'll be amazing". You gushed, hugging Antonio and planting a kiss to his cheek. "We got the job, baby".

"Let's go home and celebrate". Antonio growled and picked you up carrying you out of the club.

Antonio put you down and headed to the car. "That was easy".

"Yeah. Now we have to figure out what he wants us to do". You say as you and Antonio drove to the station.

"Heaven? You chose Heaven as a stage name"? Adam scoffed.

"Yes, I'm a little piece of Heaven". You seductively purred.

"Yes, yes, you are". Adam smiled like a fool. Antonio rolled his eyes.

"Do you think he wants us selling drugs for him"? Antonio asked.

"Maybe. We could get a few undercovers in there as customers. Give us a better chance at catching him with the drugs". You suggested.

"We can do that. But we dont want to spook him. Since theres two new faces in the club and then add more. He'll know somethings up". Voight replied.

"Yeah. You're right. We go in tomorrow at six".

"Alright. Make sure you two are ready and prepared for this. I dont want it going bad and someone getting hurt. No dealer will go down nicely". Voight reassured.

"Yes, sir". You say. Antonio and you had a rough night sleeping. Your minds raced.  Tomorrow was a big job, a lot was depending on you two. You couldn't screw it up.

"My little piece of Heaven". Marco greeted you as you came into the club his arms open for a hug.

"Good even, sir". You purred in his ear.

"Oh, sir. I like that". Marco laughed. "Come on, I got something for you guys". He waved you and Antonio into the back room.

"So tonight is going to be big. Huge! We have Heaven here making her debut and everyones coming. Everyone. So I need you two to be selling some of our delicious product. It taste just like candy". Marco chuckled as he opened a box that had about five hundred pills inside. Enough to kill a whole school of kids.

"I've heard about this drug. It's supposed to make sex even more amazing". You wrapped your arms around Antonio's waist and started kissing his neck. Antonio went along and grabbed your face deepening the kiss to your lips.

"Fuck yes"! Marco cheered.

Antonio pulled away panting, you licked your lips. This was the first time you two let your sexual tension free on each other. It was there but you two kept it bottled up.

"I like you two. This is going to be a great partnership". Marco grinned.

Around seven, people started arriving. Each person got a pez and a pat down from Johnny the bouncer. Antonio was taking his job seriously. You were going around getting drinks for the customers until you were called to the stage.

"Baby, why dont you take this fifty and we go back to the back and play"? A creepy older guy slapped your ass as you sat his drink down on the table.

"No thanks". You smiled and went on your way. You had to breath cause if you didnt you would have taken the drink tray and popped him up side the head with it.

"Heaven, baby. It's almost time". Marco pointed to his wrist and you nodded. You went back to the dressing room and changed into a diamond bralette that didnt hide anything and a pair of black cut up booty shorts. It wasnt your taste but Marco wanted you to wear it. You splashed on some glitter and perfume before you heard your song come on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a new comer here that has blessed us with her beauty. Please give it up for a little piece of Heaven". Marco introduced you to the cheering crowd. You walked on stage and put your hand on his shoulder.

"We also have a special guest to share the stage with her, our own bouncer Johnny Boy". Marco put the spot light on Antonio which caught both you and him off guard. You didnt know his was in your performance.

Marco waved Johnny on stage, Antonio gulped and went up. Marco had a chair for Antonio to sit in as you danced.

"Show em what you got baby doll". Marco slapped your ass.

You smiled at Antonio, he looked nervous. The combination of spot light, the men sitting around watching and the part where he liked you this was a bit to much for him to stand.

The music was flowing through your veins. You swayed your hips to the music in between Antonio's legs. Your hands on his knees, your ass on his lap. Antonio licked his lips, he got the courage to put his hands on your hips and guide you along.

You smirked, rolling your hips. This was all work but you could throw in some play as well. The crowd of cheering men disappeared when you turned around and straddled Antonio's lap. Your hand wrapped around Antonio's neck as you grinded on him. He looked into your eyes as he helped you move your body.

Your eyes wondered over his face, his eyes sparked in the lights, he had a slight smirk on his face and you could see Marco deal out a baggy of Pez.

"Now". You said and Voight and the team busted in. You got off of Antonio and went after Marco, Antonio followed your lead.

Marco didnt run, he had his hands up and ready for cuffs.

"For a dealer, you went easily". You told Marco as you handed him off to Jay.

"I'm just the bottom of the food chain, baby. I'll get a slap on the wrist". Marco laughed as he was taken away.

"Great job, you two". Voight nodded and walked away.

"You look absolutely beautiful". Adam smiled like a bigger fool as he came over. You looked down and covered yourself up.

"I'm going to go change". You hurried to the back.

Antonio slapped Adam on the back of his head. "Watch it". He pointed at Adam. Adam stood there confused. 

You got dressed quickly and headed out front. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

"What"? You looked down at your outfit. You had tight red pants on with a red jacket and a black see through corset. You may have taken it from Marcos wardrobe.

"You look good, Y/L/N". Jay chuckled along with Adam and Kevin.

"Thank you". You giggled.

Antonio came by your side. "You do. You look really good. Um, you wanna get coffee"? Antonio rubbed the back of his neck.

"Are you asking me on a date"?

"A coffee date".

"Oh". You were kinda sad that that was it.

"Just for now. I'm kinda tired so coffee will hold you over until Friday night". Antonio sent you a wink.

"Yeah. I'd like that".

"Great". Antonio held out his arm for you and you wrapped yours around his. "Where did you learn to dance like that"?

You laughed. "Believe it or not there was a time I wasnt a detective. But that's for another time".

Antonio smirked as he lead you to his car and you were off on your first date.

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

I feel like it is only time I make a stoner fic🤗hope you enjoy!!

*tw*: use of marijuana, stoner thoughts(im so sorry😵‍💫), if there's any more pls lmk and I'll add them!

It was no secret amongst the school that sapnap smoked weed. He talked about, he posted on social media about ut, he even got caught once smoking it in the back parking lot.

So when my mind was desperate for a chill out moment, he was the perfect person to help. I messaged him in search of a good time.

Hey, do you think I could buy from you?

What are you looking for?

Quarter ounce

Meet me here

2848 hasbul drive

He set the date for tomorrow night at 6pm. I requested enough that I could use tomorrow as well as this weekend so when j went to the location, and saw his car I climbed in with the money.

"Hey you got the cash?" I nodded as I hand him the money in exchange for a green bag.

"Quarter ounce?" He nodded as I opened the door and returned to my vehicle. Before I could even open the door he was gone and my phone rang.

Let me know how you like it

I left the message opened and didn't bother with a reply as I got in my car and headed home.

Upon arriving I see that all the lights are off which is good because it means everyone's asleep. I soundlessly slip inside my room and pull out the bag along with my pipe. I proceed to pack it and grab my lighter.

The first hit always hits the hardest so I have to take a minute to not let my coughs get too loud.

After about 3 or 4 hits, I sit back for a minute and just stare at my lights which are colored red.

I wonder what it would feel like to be floating right now. I bet it would feel nice. I have to make sure to thank sapnap for getting me this weed.

Wow, sapnap is such a great guy, his hair is amazing, he's so fucking cute but I can't tell him that because he'd never feel the same way. I wonder what he's doing right now, I wonder if he's thinking of me.

As I continue to think about him, I just feel myself getting happier. I want to talk to him right now and be with him, I want him to be with me. He would make this experience so much better. I should call him and tell him.

I dont need to call him, I can see him right now, he's in the room with me. That's concerning how'd he get in here, oh shut up logic. Come here lover boy. And if that doesn't work.

*I was gonna wait til I was high to put genuine stoner thoughts but I have none and haven't smoked in a couple of days.*

The next day at school I'm pissed and it's known to everyone except a certain someone who can't keep his hands away from me.

"Hey, how'd you like the za?" I shoot him a side eye to which he furrows his brow.

"I bet you would know wouldn't you," I say as I shove past him.

"Why are you mad at me? I helped you out?" I scoff.

"Helped me out? Are you shitting me?" I turn my voice lower as I look around at on lookers. I grab his arm and pull him to the side of the hallway.

"You fucking laced it." His eyes go wide.

"What the fuck do you mean?" He asked bewildered.

"When I smoked it and started feeling it, all I saw was you. So what the fuck did you put in it?" He looks like he's seen a ghost or he's listening to someone speak gibberish.

"What do you mean all you saw was me?" He asks

"You, your face, your body, as if you were in the room next to me. And there was this weird feeling in my chest, my heart was pounding." He takes a breath, and then starts to... laugh.

I stare at him as if he's disappeared before my eyes.

"What the hell is so funny to you?" He chuckles a little before talking some calming breaths.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm done, I'm done" He coughs before continuing. I stare at him expectantly.

"I hate to inform you but thats not laced weed. You have a crush on me."

"Are you fucking stupid? I don't have a crush on you, you fucking laced that shit." He smirks before taking one step closer, making our bodies practically chest to chest.

"Its ok, I like you too. When you asked to buy from me I wasn't surprised but I was a little disappointed that that was all you wanted from me." I stare at him, shocked.

"No, i- I don't have- wait what? You like me?" He smiles and puts a hand on my hip.

"Yeah, I've liked you for a while and I've tried to flirt with you before." I think back to the math class I have with him.

"Wow, I'm an idiot." I look at him and he says nothing.

"You're supposed to disagree with me." He laughs.

"Sure thing, whatever you say." He smiles and we walk to class together.

[keiarchived]

Freshman Year

stoner!Atsumu x f!innocent!reader x stoner!Suna ft stoner!Osamu

warnings: Drug (weed), gangbang, oral (giving), anal, dubcon, fucking whilst high, university!au, sex tape, cockwarming, corruption kink, sleepy writing

words: 1.8k

To say you were inexperienced, naive and artless, they weren’t wrong. You’re the last person who would cheat on their essay and cause yet another headache to your lecturer. You’re the classic ‘goodie two shoes’ as Atsumu calls you, the same couldn’t be said about both Miya twins and Suna, however.

They are anything but good.

You should’ve listened to those whispers of warnings and rumours that made their way around the campus, how they’re the last people you’d want to get involved with despite their popularity among students. You either love them or hate them, there’s no in-between with valid reasons.

You don’t belong in their world, you know that. But it doesn’t stop Suna from wanting to strip the innocent of you. Maybe it's the way you smiled nervously at him or maybe the glare you gave Atsumu whenever he made those snarky comments, but one thing for sure is that he wants to show you what you’ve been missing.

“Suna...” It almost came out as a whine whilst your head fell back against his shoulder, dark iris swallowing those rings of colours whilst your lips parted delicately with a cute pout. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” He coo, arm resting snuggly and comfortably around your waist as he pulls you even closer to press a kiss on your temple. Chilling at the Miya’s with Suna and his friends has become a regular thing ever since your first proper encounter with him at the party, where your friend ditched you for another guy. Perhaps you should’ve seen through him before accepting his offer to keep your company that night, maybe then you could’ve avoided whatever this is between you and Suna. But would you’ve pushed him away if given the chance?

“Wan’ more...” You whimpered, earning a chuckle from the man as he peppered your cheeks with few more playful kisses before pulling away. “What do you want, princess? C’mon, use your words” Suna love to see it when you’re desperate like this in his arms, staring up at him with those bleary eyes, cheeks flustered and small hands trembling as you grasp at his jacket with wants. “Mmn... smoke... wan’ more of smoke...” You slurred between each hitched breath of yours, feeling a few pairs of eyes glued onto the both of you as Suna leaned closer after taking a drag of his blunt before letting the heavy white smoke slips past your plump lips like weightless velvet. Oh, if only you knew how alluring you are when taking every ounce of the fumes from him greedily. Close enough for both of your lips to slot together, but far away enough for a grin to tug at his lips before pulling away. “Still not used to taking it on your own hm?” Or maybe you just adore these tingles dancing against your skin every time Suna shotguns it to you, as if he’s feeding you his essence in the most sexual way possible.

“Ya babying her too much, Suna. Gonna end up spoiling her.” Atsumu wasn’t wrong, ever since his friend introduced you to an unfamiliar world of ecstasy, he has you wrapped around his fingers like a puppy on a leash. “Why not, jealous Tsumu?” You could barely listen to their conversation as a giggle slipped past your lips, Suna could still remember the time you took your first hit. Trying to copy him only for those bitter smoke tickles your throat, making you cough with tears swelling from your eyes. It was cute though, he praised you for being a good girl, done so well on your first try as he wiped away those tears before wrapping those legs around your waist to give you the fucking of your life and the rest was history.

It was Suna who got you addicted to... him.

“You bet, how come she’s always hanging off your arm when you guys aren’t even together?” Astumu scoffed as shifts from his seat, watching from the opposite sofa with a frown over his defined features. It is unfair really, how you’ve chosen Suna over anyone else. Atsumu would love to slips his arms around you once in a while too, playing with those pretty lips of yours whilst you get drunk of him instead.

Despite no strings attached between you and Suna, shaking your head no as soon as he mumbles softly under his breath, beckoning you to go sit with Atsumu but no — you didn’t want to. “Nnu...Wanna stay...” Instead, your grip tightens on the fabric of his jacket, snuggling further into him until your head is buried at the crook of his neck.

If only you’re sober enough to see the faint but taunting smug smile Suna have stretched across his lips as he shrugged at his friend, guiding you to sit properly on his lap instead with your back facing Atsumu. “Better luck next time.”

God knows how long you’ve been sitting like this, legs folded on either side of Suna’s lap as you rest against his broad shoulder. Pins and needles crawl up your numb legs, shifting with an uncomfortable whine. To think Suna would waste a perfect opportunity like this, you’d be wrong, especially when all if most of his companions are high off their heads to even notice what the two of you’re about to do. “Baby, want my cock?” Suna isn’t subtle about it either, bulge poking at your clothed core. The mention of his cock was enough to have your clouded mind runs wild, grinding against his clothes erection with an eager nod. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cockwarm Suna in front of other souls like this, Tsumu would shuffle towards the both of your and join in occasionally. Shotgunning you with his own blunt whilst lazily as he jerks off to your moans and tangle bodies. “What happened to the sweet innocent princess we knew?

As the time you spend with Suna and the Miya twins grew, so did your confidence. Becoming more familiar with the substance than you originally were, however. It was naive of you to think you could do this properly on your own without Suna here to keep you out of trouble because you’re a big girl who knows how to take care of herself. But instead, you have taken a pretty big hit, blame Atsumu. It was his idea to lower the amount of tobacco this time around, instead of feeling the familiar high you have with Suna; this is something way stronger.

How did you end up atop of Tsumu with his cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, you have no idea. Only remembering fragments of things he had said to you prior to this, “Suna aren’t here is he? Shame. Let me be Suna tonight for ya, baby. Ride me inside, bet I could treat ya better than ‘im, c’mon baby, don’t be shy. It’s not like he’s ya boyfrien’ or anythin’.” That’s all you could remember before a snap of Atsumu’s hips snapped you out of your thought, drawing a meal from your lips. “C’mon, baby. Don’t hide that pretty voice from me now.”

Atsumu’s little plan would’ve been a success if it wasn’t for Osamu, consider it payback. Call him selfish if you want, but seeing his twin brother knocking the breath out of your lungs sparks his jealousy. Sure he could’ve joined in easily but what’s the fun in that?

Suna has been stood by the door for a while now, watching as you desperately bounces on Atsumu’s cock and moaning his name between each of those sloppy kisses. But still, that stoic face remained unbothered, maybe a twitch here and there but nothing major, the completely opposite of what Samu thought he would do. After all, despite Suna saying he doesn’t care nor does he wants you, everyone knows how much he cares for you enough to keep you around for as long as he has. Instead, Suna approached the two of you. Yanking your head up those sweaty locks of yours whilst you could barely register the shift in his eyes, “You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you? Just wanted an excuse to fuck Tsumu.”

He wasn’t wrong, both Miya twins shares the same face and it is hared to ignore their handsome features after all.

Osamu was dumbfounded when Suna positioned himself behind you instead, not only did he not have a good go at Tsumu but at the end decide to join too before prepping your rear end the best way he can before inching in, frowning as he does. “Fuck... just as I expected. You’re so fucking, right baby”

Neither one of them paid attention to Samu before Suna caught him palming at his jeans, only then did he come closer with his cock freed with one hand whilst the other holding a phone and hit record. You should see the way your lips parts whenever you’re close or the complete fucked our expression that suits you so well, no worries though; Samu will keep a good record seeing as how well you take all three of them together with Samu’s cock lodge deeply down your throat, stuffing you full with all ends.

At least this time you are not the only one who’s slurring nonsense as you came, Tsumu was the first one to pump you full of his cum first then it was Samu and lastly Suna. Showering you in praises and kisses before the younger Miya twin decides to take up the aftercare duty upon himself since Tsumu has already blacked out and Suna doesn’t look that far off either with the remaining blunt in his hand.

Samu is the gentlest of them all, washing you carefully as though you’re a glass doll. Having you put on one of his shirts and setting you on the kitchen counter whilst he cooks, earning small nods and hums from you whenever he asks you a question. Samu’s surprise you even managed to hold yourself this well before finally crashing against his shoulder, it was a struggle to get you to eat some food and drink some water but he did anyway.

Only for Suna to snatch you away again with a wave of his hand and a pat on his lap, you practically scrambled out from Samu’s arms and into Suna’s chest. Snuggling comfortably against him with a content smile on your face.

At the end of the day, you are Suna’s precious little princess. He’s the one who shown how to roll a joint, how to smoke from a bong and be a little rebellious. The Miyas twins could hook up with you as many times as they want, but he knows you’d be running back to him as soon as it is over.

Tag list: @m-mortimer @selfishwitch @sleepyrintaro @cxnicalsweetheart

[writinginthedarkwood]

Werewolf! Kirishimia Eijiro: A New Meaning to Golden Retriever Boyfriend.

Thank you so dearly for this request, it was so much fun to write. Prompt #16 “Not this again.” For the fictober event. If you have a request, please send me an ask I would love to write it. 

No warnings, fluffy and cute.

"You've got to be kidding me, not this again." You looked down at your phone, a long paragraph typed up from your boyfriend Eijiro in the same format as last month. An excuse, an apology, canceling tonight's plans, and about two more apologies. Tonight he's claiming stomach issues, but you know the truth. You sigh and check your bank account. If he would just tell the truth you could tell him that it wouldn't be a problem for you to pay for the movie tickets tonight! He makes good money, he must really spend over his budget. He's so chivalrous and sweet, it might insult him to try and pay for things sometimes. You don't mind, if only he'd just open up.

You decide that enough is enough, you're going over there and you're going to put an end to the lying! He's going to let you pay for the date if you have to drag him out by his ears. You throw on the outfit you had planned for your date, cleaned up your hair and head down the street into the night air. Eijiro's house is just outside of city lines in the suburbs. He has a nice end lot with a large field behind it. You're so jealous of his view. You hop on the bus and ride with head phones on, listening to a playlist he made you. The bus can be a little scary at night, but nobody is on here except for you. It's kind of peaceful just listening to music and staring at the full moon. It's large and round face is staring down at you like a caring grandmother.

 Another text pops up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I disappointed you. I have to get some sleep, I love you baby." You rolled your eyes. It's just past 10pm! You're not letting him sit and sulk in the dark alone all night. You resisted the urge to throw your phone into your bag in frustration. He is such a wonderful boyfriend 99% of the time, but he always seems like he's hiding a part of himself. What is it? A bad childhood? A gambling addiction? Is he secretly apart of the mafia??? The bus halted to a stop and left you outside of his neighborhood, you stomped all the way down the sidewalk to the end of the line of houses and stared at your boyfriends place. The porch light is off, but the lights are on inside. You know where he keeps the hidden spare key and jam it into the lock. You almost kick the door down as you shout for your boyfriend.

 He was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe laces. He's putting on hiking boots this late? "Hey! You're awake!" You slam the door behind you and scold your red headed sweet heart. "Babe what are you doing here? It's almost midnight!" His voice is shaking. He nervously looks at the clock on the wall and stands up. "You have to go baby, I'm really embarrassed! My stomach is-" "Stop lying! Your stomach is fine!" You want to raise your voice and yell, but his giant puppy dog eyes are so cute. You jam a finger into his chest and scrunch up your mouth, doing your best to look irritated. "I knew I would get here and see you're not hunched over a puke bucket!" He put both hands on your shoulders and gently rubbed up and down on your arms. He's such a large man, he's practically a wall he's so solid. Yet he always has the sweetest touches, making sure to be so gentle with you. His callused finger tips brushed against your skin and gave you goosebumps.

 It took every ounce of restraint in you not to fall right into his arms. "I'm sorry honey, but you really can't stay here tonight. I need you to head back home." He said hardly above a whisper. He kissed your forehead and you shoved his chest with all of your might. He didn't budge, but understood you wanted him away from you so he stepped back. "Oh I'm sorry, is your booty call on the way over and I'm interrupting?" You felt like someone had stabbed you right in the heart. It couldn’t be true, he has never showed any signs of being disloyal. You’re just tired and confused.

 Eijiro looked panicked. "Oh god of course not! No, no its not like that I swear!"  He swallowed you in his arms pushing your cheek against his pecks and kissing all over the top of your head. "There is nobody other than you, I could never even think of betraying you, you're my soul mate." He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled in. His warmth overwhelming. "Well then what is it...?" You whined a bit, it's getting later and you want to just fall asleep in his arms. "Are you going to turn into a wolf at midnight?" You chuckled. His hand stopped running through your hair and he stiffened completely. You look up at him puzzled, he's staring down at you with a look of panic. "That's crazy why would you even say that?" He says all too seriously. You nervously laugh. "What's wrong? I was just joking. It's not like I really believe you're about to start howling at the full moon." Eijiro stared off into space, like his brain was loading and he couldn't think of what to say. "Right...?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "It might be a little bit like that." He scratched his head. 

You two sat in the quiet for a little bit. Every time he tried to elaborate he ended up getting caught up in his own words. You two sat awkwardly in his living room until its about 5 minutes til midnight. "I- I'm going to go to the bathroom." He quickly dismissed himself, running to his bedroom and shutting the door. You followed quickly after him. Is he insane? Does he really expect you to just sit out here while he hides pretending to shape shift to get out of movie night? He's obviously  having a difficult time, maybe his money troubles make him feel emasculated? You softly tap on his bedroom door and it slips open. The bathroom door is closed shut with the light peaking out under the crack. You walk past his bed and dressers and hear weird scuttling sounds the closer you get. You knock again. "Hey honey, why don't you come out so we can talk about this? It's okay if you didn't want to go out because of money..." You leaned against the door. "It doesn't make you less of a man to let me pay sometimes." He's so wonderful, you don't think there could be any other reason why he can be so flakey.

The sound of shampoo bottles and shaving cream canisters falling to the ground startle you. "Babe are you okay?" You turn the door nob. The door flings open, a large shape tackles you, knocking you to the ground. You let out a large wheeze, the wind escaping your lungs. "What the fu-" Your face was assaulted with a large flat tongue, licking all over you. Slobber flew across the room as a giant red dog panted and whimpered as it gave you kisses. "You're a dog! Oh my god you're a dog!" You pushed your monstrous boyfriend off of you and took a good look at him. He's huge, and even a little scary looking. His fur is bright crimson and his eyes are a daring shade of yellow. But he sat there, panting like a normal dog. You waved in front of his face. "Are you in there babe?" The dog playfully nipped at your finger, trying to pull your hand into his mouth. "Hey! No bites!" You retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. His fangs are giant. 

The wolf man got down low to the ground in the stance you've seen puppies do right before they-

 He takes off, zooming across the floor and into the living room at full speed. Pictures that lined the hallway crash to the ground. You rush to your feet and chase after him. "Wait!! Down boy! Down!!" You shout. He's already on the couch, gripping a throw pillow between his powerful jaws and shaking it. Cotton stuffing flies across the room, coating the floor. "No! Bad Eijiro! Bad doggy!" You try to wrestle the pillow away from him and fail. He topples over you, knocking you back down onto the floor and taking off across the room again, this time to the kitchen. You tenderly rub your arm, you landed on it weird and it's a little sore. Another crashing sound prompts you to get up onto your feet and run after him. The trash can is toppled over on its side, trash strewn across the floor. His snout was pushing around the garbage, looking for something to swallow. "Are you kidding me? What is with you?" You grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and pull him to the other side of the room away from the trash. "You sit!" Eijiro whines and sits down, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that. This is not what I thought a werewolf would be like." Eijiro's large head pushed against you, rubbing his face all over your stomach as you pet his head. "You just need to burn some of this energy off." 

You can't help but love the silly thing. He is still your boyfriend, even if he is a little different than usual right now. He followed you down the hall,  staying right by your side. He takes up most of the space, his large frame almost tipping you off balance with small bumps into your hip. You dug through a pile in his hall closet until you found an old baseball and plastic toy bat. Wow, he really needs to clean up his closet, you think to yourself. "Okay babe, let's go-" He looked up at you with all of the love in the world, hanging on your every word. You crack into a smile. "Let's go outside and play you big goof.

"The two of you trampled through the tall grass behind Eijiro's house, he seemed to use little to no effort at all. His massive paws stomping down the weeds like it's nothing. You decided you were far enough away from the neighbors and took a strong stance. You haven't hit a ball in ages, but this plastic bat is wide and should make it a little easier on you. The baseball flew high into the air, you focused and swung the bat, smacking the ball across the field. Your wolf ran, faster than any animal you had ever seen after the small object, passing it and having to loop around with a terrifying pin point turn. He grabbed the ball off of the ground so quick you barely saw the motion, and in a flash he was back at your feet. You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing!" Eijiro looked pleased, so you scratched his neck fluff.

 "Alright let's see if I can hit it a little farther." 

Again, and again, and again he chased the ball across the field and back happily dropping the ball at your feet. He only made you wrestle for it once, he could probably keep the ball away from you forever with those intense muscles, but that's not as fun for him. Seeing how pleased you looked when he brought it back was filling the beast with all the pride in the world.

Eventually your arm got tired, and he seemed to have about run out of energy too. He laid down in the field and looked up at the moon. You laid your head on his stomach, the rhythm of his breathing so comforting. You just talked to him, venting about life and how weird things are in the city now. You found yourself thinking about how a simple bus ride was starting to feel too far away from him at this point. "I know you don't really understand me right now, but I really love you. I know we've said it before, but I love you. I think you're my forever person." He was laying on his paws, looking up at the starry sky. "I know you felt like you had to hide this from me, but it doesn't scare me, or weird me out." You talk quietly and close your eyes, snuggling deeper into his fur. "If I have to come throw a ball for you once a month, I'll do it. I've got friends that deal with way worse with their boyfriends." You smirked, thinking you're pretty funny. That'll make Eijiro laugh in the morning, you'll save that for later. 

The rising sun burned your eyelids, scaring you awake. You hadn't meant to stay out here for the rest of the night, but it was so late and he was so comfortable. He's much more familiar to you now, he slept peacefully as you rested on his chest. He looks worn out, but the two of you can't stay out there forever. You gently tap his face. He popped one eye open and looked around. "Oh man!" He gasped and looked down at his hands and feet. "I'm so stupid! You could get sick staying outside all night!" He put a hand on your face and cupped your chin. "Are you alright my love?" He asked with the soft voice only you get to hear. "Yeah I'm fine. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. I'll be a little more hungry today, but it's no big deal." He looked down at the ground with a sheepish smile. "Thanks for staying with me all night." "Aw come on, it's no big deal. You're... a good boy." You teased while ruffling his hair.

 "Hey!"

My Ko-Fi -> https://ko-fi.com/writinginthedarkwoods Please send spooky requests!

[idesofrevolution]

Okay: Bad Boy Musky Transformation it is. Enjoy!

I knew, of course, that Marco sold whatever the degenerates in the neighborhood needed. Weed, Acid, Ecstasy, Shrooms, Coke... take out the hard ones and you have his menu. He always seemed to afford the good things in life with his dark money. Two weeks ago he’d bought a Ducati; a week prior it was a 60 inch TV! God knows it wasn’t from dutiful employment, but I knew damn well just what it was that afforded him these luxuries: whatever could be inhaled, snorted, or smoked. And yet, here I was, working two jobs at McDonalds & Popeyes just trying to afford my garbage studio apartment. 

He’d only ever been kind to me, I’ll admit. He’d bring by a pizza he said he couldn’t finish, or his old speakers he’d upgraded. Nice guy, if a bit dim. Always out in the courtyard, laying by the pool with his shirt off. Always surrounded by other guys who’d slip him a hundred. It’s not fair! Four years of college and what did I have to show for it? Student loans and no job prospects. Yet there he was: no trade, no job, no future really; but living like a king. So it was one day where I’ll fully admit that my jealousy overwhelmed me. 

I was short that month, for the first time mind you. Short only by a hundred dollars for rent, but I had already gotten a notice on my door. Pay tomorrow or get lost. It was this desperation that made me remember every deal that thug made, every 8-ball, every eighth, every pill... Would he really notice a hundred missing from his pile? I knew for a fact that every Wednesday night, precisely at 10, Marco would leave for the hookah club and not return until 4 or 5 at the earliest. I knew he locked his door, a few locks actually, but I also knew that the moron left his window cracked nearly every night. It just so happened that on that particular evening, he did just that. 

In that fleeting moment of curiosity, a plan built up in my head. I watched him loudly slam his door, lock his several locks, and saunter out down the stairs. I waited about five minutes before creeping out of my apartment, careful to watch for other prying eyes. I had to be quick. I made a run for it, bolting to his open window on the balcony. It slid open quite easily, and I heaved myself over the ledge and into Marco’s dark apartment. I landed on the ratty old carpet and quickly shut the window. Looking around the apartment, it was a three bedroom for sure. In the same state of disrepair as mine, but furnished with some of the most expensive, gaudy things I’ve ever seen. Brand new leather couches, a coffee table made completely of glass, a massive stereo system next to his 60 inch TV... An absolute manchild lived here.

However, I wasn’t there for the TV or the oversized sectional. I had a sneaking suspicion that he, like many of us, kept his extra money somewhere in the bedroom. Ensuring that no noise would come from my steps, I snuck quietly down the hall, covered in paintings of scantily clad men toward the bedroom. Interesting, he swung that way, huh? Opening the door, a wafting stink hit me in the face. The room was covered in dirty laundry, used condoms, half rolled  blunts, and lines of coke on nearly every surface. This is what I was expecting, and I was surely right. Holding my nose shut, I crept toward his dresser, and began to ruffle through his belongings. Damp socks, damp underwear, damp lycra, everything in there was damp and reeking. I slammed each of the drawers shut, and opened the closet. There, on the tile floor behind rows of pristine sneakers were a pair of destroyed old Vans; and inside each were rolls of hundred dollar bills. Jackpot. I knelt down and grabbed one of the rolls, momentarily unclamping my nose to remove the rubber band. The smell was unbelievable. It took me aback, just how strong it was. I’m sure each of the pairs of Huaraches, AF1′s, and the like had strong scents of their own, but from this single pair of beat up old Vans was the most salty, sweet, almost cheesy footmusk that I’d ever encountered.

For a mere second, I contemplated bringing one of the shoes to my face, letting the dirty, wet insole touch the tip of my nose. However, it was in that second that I should have just left well enough alone. The lightswitch flipped on, and looming over me was the hulking, shirtless Marco. In my right hand was his wad of cash, in the left was his grody sneaker. My face flushed, and my stomach dropped to my toes. He crossed his arms and smiled.

“If you wanted a loan you could have just asked...” Words were caught in the back of my throat. I wanted so terribly to make up some fantastic excuse as to my presence in his closet, but the frog in my throat had other ideas. The growing grin of Marco, paired with him beginning to kneel down to my level made my heart nearly stop beating. “And if you wanted a sniff I’d have given it to you.” He smirked and slowly pulled the shoe from my hand, taking a quick whiff of it’s stench. He turned quickly and laughed, waving the wafting scent away from his face before grabbing the back of my head and plunging it right into the shoe. “Okay, deep breath now.”

I tried to struggle, to fight back, but the man was nearly twice my size and pure muscle. There was no chance of me weaseling my way out of this. I had to just play along with this weird fetish that he seemed to have. I inhaled a quick breath, barely getting any stink. 

“No, no. I said deep breath.” I felt a strong hand shoot to my crotch, grabbing my junk within my jeans. The shock of this invasive gesture broke my concentration, and a gasp of breath escaped from my mouth. Into my nose, my mouth, my sinuses, my brain did the musk penetrate. I moaned loudly, the confusion of a powerful grope and a powerful scent submerged me into a strange state of consciousness. Or rather, a lack thereof. I was inhaling the footsmell like air, and I couldn’t get enough. My cock began to tent in my pants, and I felt my right hand drop the roll of cash I thought I so desperately needed. “Ahh, haha. That’s right, let it in. Let me in.” 

His voice seemed distorted, as if we were in a deep cavern, it echoed in my skull. He removed the shoe from my face, pulling me to my feet by my bulging groin. Guiding me toward his bed, I sat down on the smelly sheets, no longer in complete control of my faculties.

“Take your clothes off.” His words entered my ears like soft velvet, it felt wrong to disobey. In fact, I wanted to obey. For the first time, I wanted to listen to whatever this man told me to do. His bulging muscles, his plump lips, the way his crooked smile felt so dangerously mischievous, the way his smell took my breath away like a vacuum. For the first time, this man was everything I wanted. I ripped my clothes off and lay there on his bed wearing nothing but my bare, cold skin. Smiling, he took hold of my throbbing, upright cock in his rough hand. Ripples of goosebumps ran up and down my body as he slowly ran his calloused hand up and down my shaft. Each stroke allowed a groan or a moan to sneak out of my lips, before he leaned down atop me and planted a soft kiss onto my lips. He tasted like an ashtray and as his tongue slipped into my mouth, rolling atop my own, I could feel some of his taste transfer to me. I can’t explain it, as we kissed I could feel that taste of cigarettes and blunts seep into my tongue. I pulled his pants down, his thick, uncut cock tumbling out of his compression shorts onto my stomach. He smiled as he pulled away from the kiss. I stuck my finger under his foreskin, swiping it around, and brought it to my lips. It tasted like ripe, sweaty cock, and I began to crave it. “Oh yeah, babe you’re a keeper.”

He jumped up, and pulled me toward the edge of the bed. I got a perfect frontal view of his gorgeous cock and saggy balls, his virile and manly smell kept pouring into my nose and into the depths of my mind. He grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled my eager mouth forward, engulfing his slick, smelly cock. I suckled, my loud slurping seeming making him even hornier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fiddling with something just out of view. As he thrust down my throat, I realized just what it was that he had. His used condom, I presume from whatever sexy fuck occurred the night prior, was in his hands. I closed my eyes as I felt its rubbery walls close tightly around the tip of my cock, slickly sliding down my shaft until his cold, creamy load touched my slit. With a loud snap, I looked down and saw his thick white cum completely enveloping my cockhead. I only got a quick glance before he’d pulled out of my mouth, replacing his succulent cock with my now favorite smelly shoe. I licked the sole, letting the thick toejam season my ashy tongue as the musk thrust into my nose once more. 

I knew what was coming, and I was prepared when I felt that slippery cock slip like butter into my tight hole. He’d grabbed my cock, covered in his seed, and jerked in tandem with his thrusts into my ass. Sensory overload. His smell, his seed, his cock, his taste, the very sight of him... It was all him. He was marking me. I was his property, and I was glad to oblige. Every single hard smack against my ass cheeks, every stinking waft into my brain, every breath of his smoky breath coming out of my mouth... It was too much! He fucked like a madman, stroking my cock into his slime until I felt a strange tingling in my cockhead. It was a slick, penetrating sensation of his seed... slurping into my slit! I was nearly screaming as I felt it sink deep down my shaft, into my engorging balls. It was stewing, brewing inside my growing sack! I heard him howl as he unloaded his fresher load into me. 

I felt his cock within me shooting spurt after spurt... going from ounces to gallons very quickly. His cum spread throughout my body like water into a balloon. I could feel the silky liquid beneath my skin, creeping, inflating every part of my body. It seeped up my throat, into my mouth, behind my very eyes into my brain. The pressure grew as I felt growth, I felt strength, I felt different. My body was gelatinous beneath my skin, before slowly firming into a much larger form. An improved form. I pulled Marco’s shoe from my face, and looked at my changing body. The cum kept flowing as I saw my muscled arms, my bulging abs, a grotesquely inflated ballsack... He leaned down and kissed me again, giving me another much needed taste of his addictive taste. My brain was melting, reforming, changing... Things were fuzzy and blurred before it was my turn to blow my load. In it, was who I used to be, my failures, my strife, my worries and obligations... Flowed like a jet out of my cock into his condom. Cum flowed out of the top of the condom, before Marco ripped it from me, letting the hot juices pool between us. 

“Lookin’ good, babe.” He smiled at me, and I looked at the man I loved with a smirk. Yeah, I sure fuckin’ do look good. We laid there all night long, fucking and kissing and sniffing and tasting... By the time the sun came up, I was in his clothes, I reeked of his sweaty manly musk, I was wearing my favorite pair of red Vans, and I was readying an 8-ball for pickup later that morning (after a few lines for me and the boyfriend). I kicked back and lit a cigarette, enjoying the laid back life I’d come to love with my man.

It’s a love story. How touching. So let me know what you think. Give me some anons on your opinions! Also, toss a few quid into the tip jar and I’d be eternally grateful <3 <3

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter eight: Party 

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

TW: Swearing, underage drinking, partying, mentions of weed, hints at sexual actions, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, vomiting If I missed anything please let me know .

Word Count 1.2k

Taglsit Open! Please send an ask or dm to be added! 

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Y/n POV 

Walking in the front door of Hanamaki’s smoke instantly hit our faces. Hanamaki was seen in the living room standing on the coffee table chugging down a 26 ounce bottle of smirnoff ice well some others cheered him on. Matsukawa was smoking a joint on the couch with a girl under his arm as they watched Hanamaki. The monsters may be the most freighting group in school but Hanamaki was known for his weekly parties Saturday nights. 

Walking into the house more and arriving in what looked like a second living room, Terushima was seen on the couch making out with one girl as three more sat around them watching. Kyotani was behind them about to start a fist fight with an unexpectant second year who spilled some beer on his shirt.

We finally made it into the kitchen where Tendou was standing and mixing drinks at the counter. 

“We lost your sister.” Tsukishima spoke up finally. 

“She probably ran off with Oikawa already.” Shirabu replied.

“Hey babe! Glad you could make it.” Tendou spoke passing me a drink. 

“Gross, I didn’t come here for you.” I placed the drink he gave to me back on the counter. 

“SHIRABU YOU CAME!” Bokuto ran right up to him. Behind him was Kuroo resting in the doorway. Shirabu rolled his eyes. 

“What do you want?” He asked him unamused. 

“Come meet my friends!!” He grabbed Shirabu’s arm and started to drag him into the room he came from. 

“Tendou, do you have any shots?” I asked the man who was still standing too close for comfort. 

“4 shots coming up.” He poured the shots as the remaining group I arrived with picked up the glasses. 

“Oh I don’t drink.” Yamaguchi spoke in almost a whisper to us. 

“Come on Yams, just one.” Tsukishima said, putting it in his hand. He took it as tendou raised his glass. He raised it to us and we all took a shot. 

“Tsuki is that you?! Did you finally take up my invitation?” A girl shouted from somewhere in one of the surrounding rooms. 

“Fuck, I got to run before she sees its actually me.” He said right before he disappeared into a large crowd. Tendou looked at Yamaguchi and raised his eyebrows. Fear visible in his eyes as he spoke up. 

“I am going to go find Tsuki and make sure he's okay.” With that he scampered off. 

“Looks like it's just us babe.”  I looked at him with disgust as I picked up another shot. It seemed he poured it while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi left. I was quick to down it. 

“I’m leaving.” I left quickly into the large crowd I had seen my friends all disappear into earlier…

Oikawa Pov 

Pushing around the crowd I was searching for Mei. She texted me that she was here already. Thanks to the party setting I figured tonight was my chance. Many girls had stopped me on the way by asking for a dance and some even more. I walked back outside to find Atsumu and Iwaizumi playing beer pong. 

“Hey come join us!” Atsumu yelled. I walked over to the table as I saw Mei and called her over to join. 

The night continued on while we all hung out. It was finally just the two of us as we headed into what seemed to be an office room on the first floor. She was looking around the room from the couch. I placed my hand on Mei’s face as she blushed. We both moved in closer and as our lips were just about to touch. The door had swung open as Mei and I pulled back to see Iwaizumi standing there. 

“Dude y/n is fucking drunk as shit, you got to come and see this.” Mei stood up and rushed from the room. 

“Iwa-chan! I was so close to getting a kiss!” I said as I followed him from the room. 

Tendou’s POV 

I spent most of the night chasing down y/n. She picked up shot after shot, eventually losing her after she disappeared outside in a crowd. I took a break after finding Maki and Mattsun. I drank some more as they laughed and smoked. Kyotani eventually joined us with dried up blood all over his knuckles and shirt. We just assumed it was someone who probably dumped shit on him again. Just as Maki pulled out a new joint someone busted into the backyard shouting, 

“YO Y/N IS SO FUCKING DRUNK!” I stood up and headed into where he came from.  

There she was, in the dining room, dancing on top of the table. All around cat calls were yelled in every direction. Terushima was close by as he yelled up at her to take her shirt off. 

“HEY!” I yelled. The yelling stopped as everyone turned in my direction. “GET THE FUCK OUT UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE ON THE MONSTERS LIST.” The room cleared out really fast as Y/n looked down at me. 

“Oh Tendou, why are you destroying the fun?” She asked, her voice was slurred as she went to step off the table. She misplaced her footing as she began to fall. I reached out and caught her just in time. 

“Fuck y/n, have you ever drank this much before?” I asked. She laughed as her response. Just as we began to stand up she began to look sick. 

“I think I am going to-” She puked. All over Maki’s floor. I let out a deep sigh, 

“Alright, let’s get you home.” 

“I-i-i gotta grab meiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.” She slurred out. 

“Don’t worry, I'll get your friends to take her.” I got her into my car as I remembered I had no idea where she left. 

“So y/n, where do you live?” 

“In a house.” 

“Where is your house?” 

“On a streeeeeet.” 

“Which street y/n?” She just laughed again. I texted off to my friends who had already sent Mei home with her friends. I did the best thing I could think of... 

Y/N POV 

THE NEXT MORNING 

I jumped up from my sleep. I began to rub my eyes as I looked around the room. Where the fuck am I?? I checked my phone and it was dead. I looked down to notice my pants were on the floor. I was still in my t-shirt as I stood up and rushed to put my pants on. I crept down the stairs only to be hit with a fresh scent of pancakes. 

“Good morning babe? How are you feeling?” I looked over to the voice and saw Tendou standing in the kitchen in nothing but his boxers.

“What the fuck happened last night?” He laughed. 

“Calm down. I just brought you here cause I couldn’t find out where you live to drop you off.” 

“And why were my pants off?” 

“You said you were hot, pulled them off and then passed out.” 

“Oh.” 

“Have some breakfast before I drive you home.” He pulled out a chair at the island. “And here, you will need this for your hangover.” I didn’t notice till he said that, but wow I felt like a bag of shit. 

“Thanks.” I said as I took it from his hand. 

“FUCK!” I shouted. “My dad’s going to fucking kill me.”

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[evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn]

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 2: Wasted Effort, Wasted Breath

Read on AO3 (Chapter 1)

Word count: 1363

Tw: Sooo much pining, Food mention, Remus shenanigans (Explicit nicknames, Explicit language, Human body limits being broken, Talk of gore)

Character’s: Logan, Roman, Remus (cause I love a supportive bestie)

~~~

"-pretty sure his favorite flowers are buttercups, but I could always ask... Are you listening to me Specs?"

"Hm? Yes, yes I am." Logan blinks out of his haze from which he was not listening. Don't get him wrong, he does usually enjoy discussions with Roman, but not really when he's making plans to help him woo someone he doesn't even like.

"Oh yeah? Name his favorite kinds of chocolates." Roman challenges.

"Milk Chocolate chips." Logan already knew that before, as he is usually the one to supervise Patton's baking to make sure he doesn't burn down the mindscape. Patton is always a chatty fellow, and Logan now knows pretty much his whole life story. He's used this knowledge before, gaining him a gold star on a family game night. (He has it pinned up next to all of Thomas's other academic achievements)

"Fair enough. I set the bar too low." Roman flops down on the bed, drawing a long sigh. As soon as Roman had found out about Logan's crush, he had dragged him to his room so they could get to the 'gossip' immediately.

At this point, after three hours, Logan is almost more annoyed than embarrassed. After the initial shock of realizing his infatuation, he's had the time to think about it and come to terms with his feelings. It helped that he was in the same room as the object of his affections this whole time, as he's been noticing all of the things he used to repress. Like how he really likes Roman's smile. He likes his prince charming smile, when he's overly confident about something. He likes his bashful smiles whenever he gets shy about something.

Really, he just likes Roman.

It feels very simple when he puts it that way. He can't believe it's taken him this long to find out.

"I think we should take a break from the input of ideas for now." Logan suggests.

Roman sighs and deflates further. "Ah, fine. I shall for now give up on setting you up with your one true love."

Logan stays silent. What? Just because he's annoyed enough to want to tell Roman doesn't mean he has an ounce of courage to actually go through with it. He clearly is all for setting up Logan with Patton, why would he like him back? Logan doesn't want to risk getting his heart broken, figuratively, right after discovering that his heart has been for Roman all along. Figuratively.

"Sooo, what kind of things do you like in Patton?" Roman asks, suspiciously calm and casual.

"I- um, well-" Logan fumbles for something people would find romantically attractive in Patton. "He... He's got... Eyes? And he wears clothes. I enjoy people wearing clothes."

Roman stares at him, confused. "... That's it? Come on, you've gotta give me something better than that Dill Weed."

Well, why not go for things he likes in Roman, he supposes. As Janus would say, every lie works better when rooted in truth.

"I think he's rather dumb," Logan starts off with. "Which should be a negative, but he's just so endearingly stupid. Every time he spews some nonsense, or does anything really, I just want to kiss him. He's also really creati- Kind. Very... Uhh... Sweet. I notice the effort he puts in to make others feel special. And make me feel special. Everyone is included."

"Do you... Like his puns?" Roman asks, half smiling, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dear Newton, I hate his puns." Logan sighs solemnly. That draws a laugh from Roman, if only for a bit. "I do actually like his eyes though. The changes we experience in the mindscape are fascinating, and he's certainly been blessed, with those green, piercing eyes." He says, entranced, looking into Roman's wide, green, piercing eyes, that are looking back at him in shock.

"You mean blue?" Roman asks, oddly red in the ears and fidgeting with his hands.

Logan blinks out of his stupor. "Ah. Right. Blue. Apologies."

They both break eye contact, him looking around the very decorated room as if that would cure his embarrassment.

"You really seem to like him." Roman looks back to him, face pinched but still smiling.

"I do." Logan agrees, admiring the other. "I like him a lot."

"Well. Um." Roman stands up abruptly from the bed. "You did say you didn't want my help for tonight with the whole date ordeal. In which case, we shall resume the noble quest at a later date!"

"You don't want to talk about other things?" Logan asks, tilting his head. Is Roman okay? He looks pained.

"No, I think I'll be off. I have to go do other things. Like, water my.. Turtle." Roman ushers him out of his room. "So long, Geek Chic."

“... You don’t own a turtle-” Logan is left there, staring at the door. It's red with a star at the top center. Tasteful. Very Hollywood dressing room.

He clears his throat, and goes on his route to his own room. That shouldn't be that hard, since the only thing separating them is Patton's (He volunteered to move in between when both of them started arguing through the wall. It's strange because they live in a metaphysical space that only roughly simulates real life and therefore likely have an empty void in between the spaces of their rooms, but Logan suspects where he goes, more logical influence follows.), but fate has an interesting way of working. Or just Remus. Speaking of, there he is. Breaking through the ceiling and landing face-first with a splat in front of Logan.

Remus merely cranks his head 180 to look at Logan. "Heyyy Nerdgasm. How'd the romantic fucking go?"

"I didn't tell him."

"No? Are you scared?" He asks, in a mocking tone but looking concerned.

Logan's shoulders slump. "I don't think I'm ready enough to face rejection from him. Not to mention he seemed rather adamant about giving me tips on how to woo Patton."

"Aww, come on Logie. You can't give up now. I'm not allowed to tell you why, but you do have quite the chance of scoring that loser." Remus says, shifting in and out of existence until he's standing upright. He pats Logan's shoulder. "Now go, cause the next time you see me, you'll never hear the end of the teasing. Like, even if you rip off your ears! I'll still find a way to make fun of you." He cackles.

Logan dreads the moment they meet again. Now that both Remus, Janus and Virgil were proven right, not only will they brag amongst themselves, but they'll surely tease him.

Remus prances off, and Logan finally gets to his room. He takes off his shoes, because cleanliness is a good idea, and prepares himself for bed.

Staring up at his star-covered ceiling (Accurate to it's alignment of today, obviously), he realizes he still has a lot to process.

How did they all know and yet he had no idea? He knows he isn't the most intelligent when it comes to emotions, but come on, neither are most of them. Usually Virgil wouldn't know romantic tension if it slapped him across the chaps. Or maybe he would. He'd just be anxious and/or grossed out by it.

Logan realizes that he must have been obvious. He's sure that he's been caught glaring at Roman many times. And trying to be around him. And Janus is also a living lie detector.

He gets himself into a comfortable lying position, turning off his bedside lamp.

Will he ever tell Roman? He'll probably have to, or keep the feelings to himself for the rest of his existence, hoping they go away.

Which would be better? Sure, never confessing sounds like a tragic way for things to go, but what would be even more tragic would be to get rejected by him, and have to coexist for eternity afterwards. Would Roman avoid him? His heart clenches painfully at the possibilities.

Perhaps he's having cognitive distortions... Roman is rather considerate. If he were to let him down, he'd do it slowly and compassionately.

As Logan's conscience fades, he prays it will all turn out alright.

~~~

[diversitytrash]

Circles (Hisoka HxH)

Well hello there! hope you’re all doing okay during these hard times with this pandemic, I really hope you all feel safe and are healthy. This is a little something I was working on, the song really hitting all the right buttons to get me working enough to do a little something, hope is of your liking! I used this song as inspiration for this little something, got me in the mood enough since I got it playing on a loop for a while.

*Sidenotes*: I apologize in advance if this suck, really, please forgive me.

Warnings: Gloomy thoughts, language, abuse of substance, angst, Hisoka 

Work count: 4.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~We couldn’t turn around 

Till we were upside down

I’ll be the bad guy now

But no, I ain’t too proud~

She could not truly explain the numb feeling in her chest. The way her blood flooded quicker whenever a certain jester came to her mind, how her eyes filled with tears at the memory of her begging, of her offering the impossible only to not feel neglected by her significant other.

But she never bothered to see his true colors, the way whenever she would open her heart to him, the teasing smile that adorned his lips, the mockery shining in his eyes, the little laughs whenever she truly thought he was paying attention.

~I couldn’t be there

Even when I try~

She was idiot enough to think that maybe; just maybe, inside his hollow chest there was still a little piece of his rotten heart that could at least respect her, but lying to herself is the best magic trick she learned over the time of her life she shared with Hisoka.

It was not the fact that she blinded herself out of love; she wanted to avoid the obvious; she wanted to ignore the way his eyes will linger in other girls as they walked down the street on cute little “dates” he would take her only to make sure she would not nag his head off for being such an asshole. 

Y/n always was quick to give Hisoka a blind eye whenever he would come over to her apartment looking for shelter, with his clothes slightly awkward on contrary of how the jester always made sure to look presentable, how whenever he kissed her in his lips always lingered a stain of lipstick that it wasn’t hers . How through the collar of his shirt there were colored marks on his skin that she never left because Hisoka hated to be marked by her, claiming to not be property of anyone.

So the best she could do was make her heart and mind go numb; no longer bother to shed tears whenever the jester took from her every ounce of life and cherish, soft loving whispers falling from her lips and then fade away from her life for days, weeks, even months. How even a numb-feeling assassin will mock her, teasing her in little matters whenever Hisoka popped into their conversations.

How the troupe of thieves will look at her like she was the greatest joke they have heard so far; and some others with pure pity.

~You don’t believe it

We do this every time~

How y/n thought that the best way from getting rid of a nuisance was by bringing another one into her life, one that will make her feel her fingers loose, her eyes slightly heavy as soon the burning sensation left in her throat became so usual that it seemed she was drinking plain water.

Somehow the strong smell of liquor staining her breath and mind was not enough; so she added a new little trick to her nightly routine, her eyes now becoming puffy, and her mind so loud and wild that instead of feeling numb she felt like venturing the world while laying down at her couch.

The long black-haired assassin had had enough of seeing the most composed person in his life to crumble down over someone not worthy of her sorrow, so soon; he also became a constant in y/n’s melancholic nights, how he would hide her precious edibles and little stash until it was safe for him to throw it away, the liquor supply becoming more and more unavailable, soon enough she was back again sober enough to feel once again, now feeling the self-consciousness her new hobbies hide, but more like irritation over the black-eye assassin

“Funny how ever since you started to come here my buzz has been drying night by night Illumi” she snarled, her mood swings becoming more prominent, but Illumi kept on with his plan, it was a perfect plan in his eyes. Instead of destroying her potential and life over a self-destructive moron, Illumi decided to teach her that there were other ways for her to feel such as a broken heart

“Maybe you’re just taking more than usual and is no longer enough with the amount you are used to” 

It was a little trick here and there. Enough for her to grow scared of the little ghost she was becoming, soon it was not only Illumi the one who visited her home often, but also a certain leader, his book never leaving his hand while he pretended to be there just to enjoy her favorite reading chair, which by pure coincidence was right in front of where she always drowned her regrets in.

To the added mix became more and more people until her home felt too crowded, too much noise, too much people for her to deal with after isolating herself from the world since the early months of that year.

It was a faithful night, the radio playing softly in the background as now she was no longer in the couch where she used to throw herself over, drink and weed in each hand while looking over her ceiling. Now she was seated over Chrollo’s claimed chair, moved over the balcony at the right of her living room as she looked over the stars, the cold night making her skin invade of goosebumps as the bitter memory of the night her life went down the drain came into her mind

It was a sunny day, awfully a bright, good sunny day. Good enough to make her get up early, no need of her alarm as the curtains of her bedroom window barely caught the light of the warm blooming sun.

It was a happy day; but inside her heart, like a sixth sense, there was an ugly monster crawling, having weeks growing and growing inside her little heart whenever Hisoka came to her mind. 

But she decided to ignore the monster bubbling inside her mind, the nightmare shadow of second guessing her lover’s true intentions.

She decided to give Hisoka the benefit of a doubt and the little monster only kept growing and growing, every night that passed over the last 3 days since he announced he will be around town doing business smiling at her, in the middle of the night waking her up by the terrifying laugh it will bubble from the sharp-fanged mouth that had, the way whenever Hisoka’s name left her lips in a whimper it teased her, telling her just how worthless she was in the jester’s eyes.

So, today was a sunny bright day to go down town and do a few of her pending errands and calm the beast down, proving it that there was nothing to worry about, that Hisoka was a man of his word. And god how did she regret being so right.

~Seasons change and our love went cold~

She regretted getting so up in the morning and running a fresh shower now that she saw her lover walking with two ladies tangled by his sides as Hisoka kept a sensual pace all the way down to the motel.

She regretted using the little overall skirt that she adored with all her heart along with her favorite shirt as she waited outside the motel until late at night to find a lover covered in love bites and yet, one of the ladies by his side.

She hated that she did her makeup with so much effort, looking herself through the mirror and admiring herself, whispering to her own little ears just how beautiful she truly was; only to have Hisoka mock her in the middle of the street as the piercing dagger in the middle of her heart kept going deeper and deeper the more Hisoka spoke

~Feed the flame ‘cause we can’t let go~

“Oh kitten, how pathetic of you to truly believe I ever loved you. I don’t do love princess, I fuck who I lust for, and both of us know, it’s been a long while since I visited your little downtown”

But the most she hated, was the little steps she took joyful as she walked down the streets, treating herself to little desires as more than a coffee and a snack and looking for a gift for her lover thinking he truly loved her.

The fact of knowing the monster crawling inside her mind was right; how it laughed at her just like Hisoka and the beautiful lady by his side. The way the little monster became bigger and bigger When Hisoka spoke hurtful words in her direction

~I dare you to do something

I’m waiting on you again 

So I don’t take the blame~

“No one of importance”

“How pathetic”

“I actually did you a favor’”

How the assassin she thought that had an ounce of empathy at least at one of her tip of his needles only laughed at her 

~Run away, but we running in circles~

“Did you truly believe Hisoka would love someone like you?” 

Once again she felt like a child, the scolded child her mother hated to see after punishing her for doing something wrong, how she would scold her for having a tear-stained face like she was victim when in fact it was her fault the punishment she got. How her mother will lock her inside her room for days on with no contact to the outer world because she decided to go downstairs when she was clearly busy.

~Run away. Run away. Run away~

And so, the urgent need of changing her home upside down invaded her body, anxious enough to move maybe a little too fast, making the assassin move quick enough to get her before her face smashed against the floor. The way her body tingled with excitement as her eyes once again sparked with the same mischief like before she dipped herself into the jester’s magic tricks

~Let go

I got a feeling that it’s time to let go~

Suddenly, the thought of her bed felt wrong, the way her room was coordinated felt unsettling and just thinking about how she would throw herself into it by the time she went to bed felt wrong

“What are you doing?” The assassin questioned, confused by her sudden burst of energy as she looked over him

“It’s spring Illumi! Spring!” She cheered, excitedly walking fast over her windows and opening them wide, the assassin once again feeling terrified by just how much emotion she handled in her body in such short periods of time

“Yes, it is Spring” he answered, y/n snorting before she turned around and her hands on her hips

“It’s spring cleaning Illumi. We’re cleaning!” To say that Illumi’s was more than excited of just leaving her on her own to do her own thoughtless actions was beyond tempting, but also, he was curious about what exactly she was meaning about this spoken Spring Cleaning that got her so excited.

And soon, as Illumi saw how she pulled empty boxes from her closet and she opened her drawers; only to notice how many pieces of her lengerie were thrown into them and so as certain cards and other little gifts, Illumi felt the need enough to call for second hands and try to help him to figure out just what she planned to do

~I say so

I knew this was doomed from the get go~

When a troupe arrived to the home, along with 4 declares enemies; Illumi felt more peaceful

“What the hell Zoldyck, you said this was an emergency, not a fucking hangout-“ but as soon as Nobunaga’s snark comments came and invade her home, they left as they saw her, her hair in a high pony tail and sweat lightly dripping from her forehead, a bright smile in her face, and boxes in both of her arms as she stood from the top of her stairs

“Oh, hey guys!” y/n spoke, excited to see her friends, the boxes in her arms being let go as both of them slammed against the floor, the sudden crash of something fragile inside either one or both alarming the entire party as she dusted her hands, looking proud

“Glad you see you all, but I’m a little busy at the moment as you can see” she pointed at the boxes, the bitter smell of the cologne a certain jester used invading their nostrils, Chrollo being quick to connect the loose ends as he smiled al little bit, but the rest of the troupe still confused

“Y/n… are those… Hisoka’s things?” Shalnark asked, taking his words with much care as to not fright the little dove in front of them while her smiled grew 

~You thought that it was special, special~

“Yes!” She replied excited before turning around over her room, leaving them at the entrance hallway, but Shalnark had many questions in his mind, why was Hisoka’s cologne infesting the entire room to be specific, in a box she threw out of her arms like she was dealing with bad things like trash

“Why?” Pakunoda pushed, looking over the entrance of her bedroom as the excited young adult ripped the sheets from her mattress, throwing them over the floor before she looked back at them

“Spring cleaning! Didn’t Illumi tell you when he called? It’s spring cleaning” she answered, like trying to explain a child the obvious answer before she pulled the mattress from the wooden base, moving little by little until half of it was out of it

~But it was just the sex though, the sex though~

“So, you’re throwing things away?” Shizuku was the next to ask, confused as to why exactly he was called over before she smiled nodding her head

“Why are we throwing good things away?” Shalnark frowned, still not getting the point as she rolled her eyes

“Spring cleaning it’s the time of year where you get rid of shit you don’t longer need in your life” she answered, the words leaving her mouth smooth, too smooth for a woman with the broken heart to speak so freely

“And what’s the shit we’re getting rid off?” Phinks questioned, pushing the people from her door aside as he took his jacket off, rolling his shoulders as he pulled and twisted the sleeves of his shirt as much as he could to make it a muscle shirt

“Bad vibes shit” was all she answered, but it was enough for a few of them to know that finally; she was done with her little depressing episode over the jester once her heart loved unconditionally, the blood of a bitter year finally ending its tour in her soul and now; once again, being the quirking little spirit they once met.

Just like how boxes of gifts and clothes were thrown out, soon her entire bed followed, with the help of the male part of the troupe as the girls kept themselves busy over her living room and kitchen, looking for anything that reminded her of the jester.

But to everyone’s surprise, she was getting rid of everything

“Are you sure, 100% positive that this couch needs to leave along with the fucking plasma tv?”

“Spring cleaning Shalnark!”

And so, as the day went by, with the help of her friends, her home was now nothing but the entire emptiness of echoes and walls, no room reserves with anything, not a single chair, not a single table, not even a cup or a spoon

~And I still hear the echoes (the echoes)

I got a feeling that it’s time to let it go

Let it go~

She truly got rid of everything in her apartment, everything being left out in the street with a sign in big bold letters of FREE, TAKE WHATEVER YOU PLEASE, the way her heart hammered against her ribcages was exciting, almost teasing her to keep on, being barely noon, she still had plenty of time to keep moving forward

“She even got rid of the fucking stove. And the damn fridge” Feitan grumbled, looking over the empty kitchen

“What the hell, you threw out my fucking stove?” She snarled, her attention disappearing from the empty living room for a second as she looked over the men 

“You said you get rid of everything!”

“Except the kitchen!"

“How were we going to know!”

“And where is my reading chair Chrollo?”

So on, the next three days were eventful enough for her to be moving up and down around town, the snark comments coming from the party of males who moved all the way down to the first floor of the building to retract her precious kitchen only to notify that her fridge was long gone, as she chew over the big bad boss, threatening his future bloodline if he didn’t return her precious chair, if he ever dare to have one.

Instead of plain cold white, her living room was not a soft, kissed pastel of baby grey, the way it contrasted all her new furniture bringing lightness to her heart, her kitchen now bright white and dark wooden floors, the midnight black dinner table contrasting lovely with her pearl china and silverware cutlery.

~Maybe you don’t understand what I’m through 

It’s only me, what you got to loose?~

The smell of fresh paint invaded her senses as she moved along her home to open all the available windows, the purpose of change in her heart was big and evident enough for no one to question her decision and just how exactly she desired to view the world from now on. Just as changed came into her life in a material world, so they did in her loving. Her hair no longer at the competing length as Illumi’s. It now tickled her cheeks in soft little curls whenever she moved a little too quickly. Her wardrobe entirely changed, everything she ever owned either being thrown away or giving as hand-downs, since her clothing was all in a perfect shape and some pieces even brand new.

~Make up your mind, tell me, what are you gonna do?~

The little monster was no longer invading her nights and days, suddenly the gloomy days that invaded her morning were now the brightest, the excitement in her body enough to rub off even in the most odd of her companions, and once again, it was a sunny day.

She was wearing her favorite jean overall skirt, along with a white t-shirt underneath and her snickers making match with it.

The man she was clinging over in his ever odd green outfit

“Illumi please~ just one~” she cried, getting heavier and heavier over his arms as the little tick in his eye made presence, the little smirk in her lips going unnoticed by the assassin as he tried to push her away, only to have her grip her arms around his waist in quite and odd hug since he tried to rip her off his body

“If I say yes, will you let me go?” the male grumbled, hating the idea of so much attention on him, but even worse the feeling in his chest whenever she hugged him

“If you tell me where Chrollo hid my most precious treasure, maybe”

~It’s only me, let it go~

But for her odd luck, back in the roof of a building, the little monster that once invaded her heart, was now a monster hunting the jester she once loved. And it felt horrible just how much it crawled in his mind even in days when he had promised to not think of her.

At first, it was the memory of the night she caught him red handed in his little adventures, but Hisoka payed her no mind, knowing deep in his heart, that in no longer than three days; she would be calling him on his cellphone, at least three times the first day and after the third time he did not answer; leaving him a voicemail asking him, pleading, begging, that if he had time in his hands to spare, she would be waiting for him at her apartment.

But the calls never came, Hisoka assumed she needed a little bit more of time for her to come around, after all, this was not like the other times many fights happened. 

It was not a day where she smelled a perfume that was not hers in his clothes.

It was not the kisses stained that didn’t belong to her at his neck to jaw.

It wasn’t the false hope of maybe it being an odd coincidence.

~Seasons changed and our love went cold~

Soon the thought of her left his mind as quick as it arrived and he continued on to pursue his life as a single man, scoffing and mocking the memory of her being such an obedient pet for him; such a good little girl only for him. Turning into a sour note in his being.

As time passed, Hisoka saw less and less of her, it was almost as she became a ghost to hunt him along his days.

That’s when, after such teasing manners with the troupe he became part with started talking 

“It was an odd weekend” it was all Shalnarkl spoke about those three days when there was nowhere in the current hideout, how all of the sudden they seemed busy, everyone but him

“Ask the boss, not me” avoiding his nosy interrogation, he was fed enough with vague excuses and wanted to know the truth

And, after a year where he was waiting for her to come around, the reality of his situation hit him so harsh, never did Hisoka imagined to feel his chest contrast in such a painful way 

“Ah yes. We were busy helping y/n doing her spring cleaning, she got rid of something” that was the first time the little monster appear, hiding in the shadows of his mind, eyes bright and fangs out of its mouth, mouth drooling at the taste of Hisoka’s distress, specially at the witnessing eye he was glaring, daggers in his irises that killed Chrollo over a hundred times once he realized just where the phantom troupe leader was sitting

“And what was that something you helped my little ripe fruit that you got rid of Dauncho?” Chrollo could feel the uneasiness from Hisoka, it was palpable, like a wild caged animal trying to scent the room in order to feel safe, but much to his poor luck, Chorllo was not feeling sympathy enough in his heart and mind to share some with the clown in his troupe

“Well, you of course” and like a rabid dog, the monster bit Hisoka down deep in his insecurities, like a bucket of cold water in his overheated skin, goosebumps invading his skin as the realization of where he stood hit him at the back of his head

She got rid of everything that reminded her of him

~Feed the flame ‘cause we can’t let go~

The red eye monster no longer left Hisoka’s side, it had been nearly half a year since that realization became palpable in his life. The way his throat knotted when as soon as Chrollo finished giving his explanation he flew all the way down to her home. Only to find pieces of himself thrown like trash, he was not spoken lies to when Chorllo told him where exactly they went that long weekend, the rain heavy and hurtful over Hisoka’s shoulders as he saw the boxes of gifts he once bought his beloved, including gifts and things she bought for him. Everything away like they never meant anything, nothing to care about, to cherish, to love

Just like you did with her little heart 

The monster mocked, laughing louder and louder every time Hisoka dared to deny the reality of his situation, how he in fact took her for granted. The one person he always crawled back whenever he was feeling down; in the need of company either by distraction or in the silent bliss of just having her in his arms.

Indeed Hisoka threw her heart to the trash before stepping on it over and over again a thousand times, but never did he expect for her to get rid of him in such a way

~Run away, but we’re running in circles~

Hisoka remembers the day she finally, shut her heart closed from him.

The tears that once ran down her porcelain skin, were now invading his eyes, feeling helpless and the monster crawled in his mind, feral and pushing him over the edge of mania further from the forbidden emotions he already felt.

The helplessness in her steps as she ran away from him not made his legs feel like jelly whenever he took a step forward, fighting against the monster inside his head, screaming at it in his mind that it was wrong and she will love him once again as soon as she sees him

The vile in his throat leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he saw just how happy she was.

She needed to feel miserable, just like him, he no longer had that little feeling in his heart, the excitement of going back into her arms like once the blue moon far away from now. But he felt numb, no longer did Hisoka had the desire of moving forward and leaving in the past. 

He needed her to need him.

The knowing fact that she no longer felt miserable without him irked him, why was she so happy to get him out of her life? 

Did he really deserve such treatment? Did he ruined her love for him enough to say he was no longer worth to have in her life, such as throwing everything away he even once touch like the worst of virus invaded said articles?

The monster inside his head finally won the final battle before leaving him; feeling as empty as ever, no purpose in life other than the desire of fulfillment; the need of feeling something; anything, to crash him like a gave to once again, learn how to ignore the emptiness in his body, the dark thought of being reminded he was left alone, no one needing him, everyone hating him. But why was he feeling like this?

 Wasn’t this what he wanted all along? Stirring feeling inside people that made them feel confused, distress, sorrow; whenever they thought about him? Did is what he wanted all along, isn’t it true? He was bored with her, that was the excuse he used when he decided she was too loving for him.

After all; Hisoka loves to feel, but not much, just enough to know he caused an impact, and just like that; rip it away harsh enough to leave an ugly scar, the memory of him impregnated in their minds forever.

But it seemed like now; the ugly scar was not in her, but in his empty broken heart.

~Run away, Run away

Run away~

*Fin*

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.4 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is settling into small town life.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Four on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The rest of Stretch’s week went about the same way as the first few days. Work in the morning, movie in the afternoon, dinner with Red at night. After what Red told him, he’d been prepared to Groundhog’s Day his way through his next visit with Doris if needs be, braced for a few reminders until he made a good enough impression.

For their second meeting, he got another popcorn just for her, tucking it into the cupholder on the opposite side of her seat. She was barely formed before she was leaning down to breathe in the buttery smell of it and from that angle, he didn’t have to witness any of her less appetizing manifestations. He also brought strawberry-flavored twizzlers, bought from the store and smuggled in under his shirt since the only candy at the concession stand was raisinets and those tasted like chocolate-covered dirt, no thanks.

He wasn’t too worried about going over his entertainment budget. Red paid him yesterday and they hadn’t discussed an hourly rate, but a hundred bucks under the table wasn’t bad for a few hours work a day, especially since Red had recently taken more of an interest in feeding him. Seemed he’d taken his brother’s order to look after Stretch pretty seriously and he started leaving packets of donuts on the counter in the morning or little boxes of sugary dry cereal to munch between customers. In the evening, Red dragged him back to his apartment at night for more Wheel of Fortune and food, either deliciously left by his unseen brother or frozen dinners.

It made Stretch feel even more like a scrawny lost puppy found in a parking lot, but he couldn’t say Red’s sudden adoption was unwelcome, especially since it meant less of his dwindling funds were wasted at ‘Mama’s’ getting takeout. Not that he couldn’t access his bank account, even Backwater had an ATM at the gas station, but the second he popped that plastic into the slot, he’d be advertising where he was. Better to save that as his last measly dollar, ‘hail Mary’ pass.

After indulging in her popcorn vice, Doris sat back up to her normal prim posture and there was a certain restrained excitement in her voice as she said, “You came back.”

“’course i did,” Stretch said from around his current twizzler even as he nursed a secret delight at being remembered. “i said i would, didn’t i?” He wondered what other friends she’d made and possibly forgotten, aside from Red. Maybe she thought she’d been alone all this time when she actually had others who came to see her on the weekends?

Whatever the truth was, there wasn’t much point in asking. Not like she’d know the truth, anyway, and Stretch wasn’t planning on ghosting her. Her smile was Mona Lisa subtle and probably held as many unspoken secrets, and that was fine. Stretch wasn’t a guy to pry. They sat together through ‘The Road to Morocco’ and he didn’t even mind when Doris hummed softly through all the songs.

On the third day since their haunting introduction, she appeared before the movie started while he was playing ‘Candy Crush’ on his phone and pointedly ignoring the messages piling up. She looked fascinated, watching the flickering lights from the game. “What is that contraption, Stretch?”

Hey, points for being remembered again, but then, he’d been here every day so far. He wondered idly how it would go if he took a day or two off.

Stretch held his phone out to let her get a better look. “you ever have a telephone in your house?”

“Of course,” she said, but her eyes, both pale blue and ghostly pale at the same time, were on the android, “My parents were on the exchange. Mama used to call Central all the time so she could chat with the ladies’ in her church group.”

Stretch wasn’t quite sure what that all meant, but the movie was starting soon so there wasn’t time to ask. “well, this little gadget is a kind of a phone and a camera, plus a few other things on top.”

Probably better not to bring up the deal with the internet just yet.

Her eyes went wide and round, without an ounce of disbelief. “You can take photographs with that?”

“yeah, sure. here.” He turned it on selfie mode and tipped his head her way, waiting until he was sure to catch her good side before pushing the button. One click later and there was his grin and her translucent open-mouthed astonishment, frozen in time. He held out the phone so she could get a good look. “see? i can get it printed later, but for now, we can see how it looks.”

“That’s wonderous,” she whispered in hushed awe. “You don’t even have to wait to develop it!”

“yeah, it is pretty cool.” It was, honestly. He didn’t really think about it too often but carrying around a little supercomputer that also took pictures was actually pretty wonderous. He remembered getting his first phone when they came to the surface, a huge upgrade from the taped-up flip phone he’d scavenged from the dump. Playing with all the apps, taking tons of pictures of him and Blue. He’d forgotten that wonder when it all became commonplace and it was nice to have a reminder.

Doris reached out as if to touch, but her finger passing through the screen. Her hand fell away and she didn’t look happy anymore, more pensive, her delight fading as some other thought filtered in and force it to sink.

He wondered if the culture shock was kicking in. He asked, low, “you okay?”

“Yes, of course.” She pulled out a hankie and dabbed at her eyes. “I simply haven’t seen myself in, oh, a very long time, I think.”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of that. She probably hadn’t made too many trips to the ladies’ room in the past few decades and now he was double-glad he hadn’t accidently caught one of her bloody ‘flickers’, she didn’t need to see that. “i’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry,” she assured him, “I’m happy to have seen it.” She smiled then, pretty as a picture, “you’re a good friend.”

“trying to be.” For as long as he could, anyway. The lights started to dim and Stretch tucked his phone away. They both settled into their seats to watch ‘Casablanca’, him munching on his popcorn, her giving hers the occasional sniff, and both of them ended up sniffling as Sam played ‘As Time Goes By’, Stretch into his sleeve and Doris into her lace-edged hankie.

He didn’t know what past lover Doris was thinking about, but he hoped it was a nice memory and not one that helped her on her brutal path over to the other side. His own memories were more bitter than sweet, and he replaced both with more butter-soaked popcorn. At least that was a taste he could stand.

~~*~~

The store opened late on Sundays and closed early, only staying open long enough for anyone who needed a quick pick up or a treat for their kiddos after church. Stretch didn’t have the slightest interest in religion, not even his own, but he listened for the deep clang of the church bells gonging through the town announcing the mass exodus, and rang up all the Humans that came in dressed in their Sunday best.

At least none of them seemed to hold his lacking against him. Their smiles as they paid for the ice cream treats that their kids were already devouring were the same as they’d been all week and the only raised voice in the shop was a mother admonishing her son to ‘Be careful of that nice shirt, Billy, don’t you be getting chocolate down your front!’

By the time he hung up the closed sign at three on the dot, there hadn’t been a customer in nearly an hour anyway. Probably everyone was holing up at home for an early supper out of the scorching heat. He swept the floor, locked the door, and that was done. He wandered back to Red’s apartment in hopes of a little early supper of his own, knocking briefly before stepping inside, “red?”

“out here,” floated back to him. The door that led to the backyard was open, only the screen keeping the humming insects at bay. Stretch went out on the porch where Red was sitting in one of the rickety rocking chairs he kept back there. His leg was propped up on a scruffy cushion atop a low stool, the pantleg oddly deflated and his shoe lying beneath the rocker. Next to him was a small cooler with beers floating in a shallow pool of water and the remnants of ice cubes. Dangling from his loose fingertips was a smoldering joint, faint wisps of pale smoke trailing from his darkened eye sockets.

Stretch went out, letting the screen door bang shut behind him. There was a sofa on the back porch even more ancient than the one in the living room and it puffed up a cloud of dust when Stretch flopped down on it. “you’re letting out all the cold air,” Stretch said.

Red snorted loudly, “you ain’t paying for it.”

“that is true,” he agreed. “i don’t pay for a lot around here, ‘cause you are a generous soul. speaking of,” he waved a vague hand at the joint that was nearly falling out of Red’s fingers, “gonna share that, too?”

Red didn’t even look in his direction, only blindly handed over the roll. The first hit was skunky-sharp, the smoke burning in his ribcage in a way that plain tobacco just didn’t, and Stretch was careful only to take a small toke to start. Red was the kind of asshole who either got cheap shit to match his cheap beer or he’d get the sort of weed that would have Stretch afraid to get up from the sofa because he might fall off the world. Better to start slow and figure it out from there.

Turned out to be somewhere in the middle and left him in a perfectly mellow buzz, all his stressors suddenly distant and unimportant. Stretch lived up to his name by sprawling out as far as he could on the moldering sofa, his sneakers dangling off the arm as he and Red passed the joint back and forth.

“ain’t bad, yeah?” Red said lazily. He took another toke, breathing out words and smoke, “ain’t legal here, yet, but the sheriff is one of my poker buddies.”

Stretch twisted to look at him, “seriously?”

“nope, but his kid is the one selling, so i figure he don’t mind.”

Stretch wasn’t sure if any part of that sentence was true and couldn’t be bothered to care. Blurry reality was so much better than having it sharp and in focus. The haze dug in deep beneath the surface, settling right and making itself at home. That was probably the only reason Stretch asked, bravely thoughtless, “so, why did your brother want me to leave town?”

“ehhhhhh," Red drew the sound out like it was a word of its own, his chair creaking on the dry wood of the porch as he rocked back, "he's jus' paranoid. folks that ain't used to backwater can get into trouble here sometimes."

“yeah, i can see how a town with only one bar can be loaded with problems,” Stretch snorted, “the locals aren’t as generous with their beer as you?”

“you’d be surprised at the kinda trouble you can find in a small town.” That sounded a little more bitter than expected and Stretch glanced at Red to see what kind of lemon he was biting down on. But Red wasn’t chewing on anything; instead, he was tugging at his pant leg, clumsily rolling the denim up. Stretch started to look away, didn’t want to make his landlord and new weed dealer uncomfortable but Red only let out that rough, scoffing laugh of his. “may as well look if you’re gonna be askin’ about the real shit.”

So he did, taking in the rounded nub of bone leftover from an obviously surgical amputation, the leg missing from right below the knee joint. Red only slumped back in the chair as Stretch studied it, giving every appearance of not caring. Unless, you know, a person wasn’t a complete moron and Stretch was at least one rung up. He could see the overbrightness in Red’s eye lights, the tight grit of his teeth, his jaw working even when Stretch fell back on the sofa.

Stretch asked with carefully affected boredom, “you’re telling me i’m gonna lose a limb if i keep hanging around? ‘cause when you offered to let me stay, i didn’t know the rent might be a literal arm and leg.”

A beat of silence, then Red chuckled roughly. The ice in the cooler rattled as Red reached in and grabbed a beer, loudly popping the tab and raising the can in a mocking toast, “heh, you got inches to spare, anyway.”

“only below the belt,” Stretch said, agreeably. “so what did he mean, then, that leaving isn’t an option?”

“eh, he didn’t really mean that.”

“he said it. leaving won’t be an option, that was what he said.” Stretch was a hundred percent on that, it was the sort of thing a person remembered very clearly, no matter how stoned.

Red only shrugged, rolling his shoulders with lazy ease, "toldja, he’s paranoid, is all. small town life ain’t bad, once you get used to it. folks settle in and don't want to leave. s'nice here, people are nice.” His sharp-toothed grin widened. “'m here, ain't i?"

“can’t argue with that." Stretch reached out and managed to catch hold of the cooler with the tips of his fingers. He tugged it close enough to fish out one of the beers. "does your brother live in town?"

"i ain't telling you where he lives,” Red said decisively, “ain't risking my meal ticket for your illusions of possible booty call."

Stretch choked on a mouthful of beer, thin streams running out of the sides of his mouth as he coughed, “i wasn't…" He broke off, stoned-stupid and too aghast to come up with a decent protest past the obvious. "that's your brother!"

"yep,” Red agreed, “all that means ‘s i am immune to his charms. don't mean i can't see 'em and you was staring at his ass like you wanted to take it for a lil’ test drive. telling ya right now, that ain’t a good idea.”

Stretch slumped down further on the sofa, sulkily muttering out, “the quality of your brother’s ass notwithstanding, i promise you, i am not on the lookout for any kind of call, booty or otherwise.”

“good,” Red grunted, “while we’re having this little soul to soul, you wanna tell me exactly what you’re running away from that got you all the way out to this neck of the proverbial woods? i can guess at the basics, but the finer details elude me.”

"digging out the best vocab for me, i’m honored.” Stretch rested his half-full can on his chest, played with the tab until it broke off then toying with the bit of aluminum. “not really. i broke up with someone and it sucked. i don't want to talk about it." He slanted his boss/landlord a look, "that a problem?"

"nope," Red took another swig from his beer, wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "man's business is his own, even when he ain't a man. already toldja, stay as long as you like." His easy voice went serious, weirdly intent, "one thing, though, them woods out there, you see ‘em?"

Stretch managed to lean up on an elbow, squinting out at the trees that were far enough away that the house regrettably didn’t fall under any cooling shadows. "yeah, it's kinda peaceful, i guess. if you like that kinda thing." Stretch didn’t, not really, the only greenery he was interested in was rolled up in Red’s joint.

"peaceful. sure. that's all fine and dandy, but don't you go walking out there at night, you hear me?"

It wasn’t easy, but Stretch managed to sit up, working at his wobbly balance to give Red the full weight of his disbelief, “uh. why the fuck would i?”

“didn't say you would,” Red said, a touch defensively, “just sayin’ don’t.

“no, seriously, why would i? do i look like the token monster extra in a horror movie?” Stretch let out an exaggerated shudder, “no thanks, no, no, no. no splitting up, no checking the funny sound in the basement, none of that shit. why, what happens if you go into the woods at night? ‘cause i’m cool with the town ghosts but i’d need a better door lock and a pay raise if you guys got vampires hanging around.”

Red gave him a strange look, his sockets narrowing around his bleary eye lights, "what the…no, you honey roasted nutbar! woods are bigger’n they look, i don't wanna have to dig up a search party to find your scrawny ass if ya get lost, is all!”

"seriously, me wandering in the woods at any time of day is the last thing you need to worry about.” Stretch wondered absently if that was actually a problem around here, people hying off into the woods at midnight, yeesh, might as well wear a ‘free snack’ sign while they were at it and speed up the process.

"great, i'll add it to the bottom of the list. vampires,” Red muttered in disgust, “fuck me.” Then louder, “mind me on this one, you hear? i ain’t your daddy, but i’m taking a liking to you, kid, want ya to hang around a in the land of the livin’ a while.”

That struck Stretch as absurdly funny. He started giggling and couldn’t stop, curling up on the sofa as he cooed, “aww, c’mon, daddy, you don’t wanna roleplay? if i do go in the woods, do i get a spanking?”

He ducked from the can Red threw at him halfheartedly, beer spraying out and splattering the porch, drying almost instantly on the parched wood. Stretch rescued it before it could soak the sofa, tipping the can back and drinking down the last warm mouthful.

“shut the fuck up and hand me that roach,” Red grumbled. He did, and they sat that way for the rest of the afternoon.

The sun was going down by the time they went inside, casting a bloodred glow over the horizon that extended across the not-so-distant trees. Stretch gave them a last look as he waited for Red to strap his prosthetic back on and head inside, maybe for canned ravioli, maybe for one of his brother’s much tastier meals. The leaves were visibly rustling despite the still air, heavy branches waving and creaking. Whatever breath of cool air that ran through the woods didn’t make its way into town.

Stretch shrugged mentally and followed Red as he limped his way through the back door. Air conditioning was better than breeze any day of the week, including Sunday.

~~*~~

tbc

[lady-divine-writes]

Ineffable Holiday 2020 - “Anathema’s Solid Right Arm” (Rated PG)

Summary: Anathema takes it upon herself to bring together two customers she knows have a crush on one another ... drastically, if necessary. (1694 words)

Notes: I had started writing this for @ineffablehusbandsweek prompt coffeeshop au, but I never got it done. So I have written it for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 Day 2 prompt 'hot cocoa/cider'. Human au. Mainly fluff.

Read on AO3.

“So, Mr. Crowley,” Anathema says, eagerly setting her cocoa and her apple cider muffin on the iron bistro table out front of her shop, right by the door where she can keep track of customers going in and out, “is he here yet?”

“Who?” her reluctant companion, who’d been there first, nursing his mug of coffee while he eyed the people walking by, asks.

“Don’t play dumb with me!”

“Pfft. Who says I’m playin’?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. The man in the cream-colored coat who comes here every day at 2 o’clock for a cup of Earl Grey and a blueberry scone. The one you’ve been mooning over for weeks and weeks but refuse to say two words to.”

Crowley spots a gentleman who fits that exact bill weeding through the crowd. But by the time he reaches the coffee shop, it’s obviously not him, and Crowley groans. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“This is my shop, and you're a customer here, so I think that gives me exclusive bothering rights.”

“I liked you better when all you did was read books behind the counter and ignore the rest of us.”

“Lucky for you, you’re much more interesting than a book.”

“Lucky me,” Crowley grumbles in a put-upon voice.

Crowley isn’t exactly a friend of hers, but he is one of her best customers. He shows up every afternoon without fail at precisely 1:30 and orders the same thing each time - black coffee and the muffin of the day (which he never eats). Anathema had thought he chose her spot over other, more commercial coffee enterprises because of her homey atmosphere and signature, in-house roasted Arabica blends. Many of her customers (an older set among the locals) do. 

Turns out, he stopped by every day because of another daily customer of hers - a pleasant, older man with fluffy white-blond hair, and a positively glowing smile, the kind that can be described as lighting up a room. Anathema has watched the two of them religiously. To this day, Crowley has never once spoken to the man, and the man (Aziraphale is the name he gives when he orders) has made no move to speak to him either. And as it’s already nearing 2:15 with no sign of him, it seems today won’t be the day Crowley gets his chance. 

Which explains his sour mood.

Anathema watches Crowley pull apart his muffin with one hand while he searches the stream of pedestrians, not paying an ounce of attention to the fact that he’s decimating it, crumbs falling through the scrollwork on the tabletop and attracting birds from all around. 

Anathema feels for the man. She really does. She’s watched the evolution of him from the first day he walked into her shop: cocky, condescending, constantly criticizing everything from the smell of the place to the decor. But he’s softened considerably since Aziraphale, almost become a whole different person. 

There are some things about him that have not budged. He still dresses like a wealthy undertaker, sporting a pair of dark sunglasses whether it’s dreary out or fine. Both style choices make him the yin to Aziraphale’s yang seeing as Aziraphale only dresses in tones of lightest cream and pale, sky blue.

Anathem has become invested in whether or not these two end up together. There's no better time than the present. 

Christmas time.

Which Anathema considers the most romantic season of the year

(Stuff Valentine's!)

If Crowley isn’t brave enough to make the first move, and Aziraphale (whom she thought she caught more than once peeking surreptitiously Crowley’s way) won’t, then she needs to make this happen. 

Starting today, if possible.

But what if he found a different coffee shop to go to? 

What if he had been waiting for Crowley to say something and mistook his silence for disinterest?

How tragic would it be for these two to end up star-crossed!

Nope! Not on her watch!

She straightens up and peeks around at the customers enjoying their beverages on this blustery day, then beyond the dining patio to the holiday shoppers hopping from store to store. It’s easy to mistake many an older gentleman for the object of Crowley’s affections, but easier to spot him out the moment he arrives, threading through passersby like a salmon traveling upstream, offering everyone he meets a smile, a nod, and an, “Excuse me! I’m very sorry! I must get through!” 

“Look!" Anathema cheers. "Mr. Crowley! There he is!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Crowley says, but she sees the slightest twitch of a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he waits for Aziraphale to blow by him into the shop for his daily fare.

Except, he doesn’t. 

It doesn’t look like he’s stopping at all, hurrying through the crowd to continue down the street.

Crowley's twitchy smile withers. Anathema’s jaw drops as she stares at Aziraphale’s back while he walks on. In her peripheral, she sees Crowley’s head bow, his lips tightening into the thinnest of lines as he sinks slowly into his mug of freezing cold cider.

And that's that.

She has to do something! If she doesn’t, Crowley is going to be miserable for the remainder of the afternoon. Grumpy and alone, he'll stay out here well into supper and, in turn, will make her miserable.

She can’t have that.

But she doesn't know how to fix things. She can’t chase after the man. He has a considerable head start. Plus, with the crowd between them, she’s not sure she'll reach him before he gets away. 

She doesn’t know what on Earth possesses her. 

She grabs up the picked apart remains of Crowley’s muffin and, without another thought, hurls it with all her might. She thought she aimed low enough to tag Aziraphale’s shoulder, or brush his arm, but obviously not when she hits the poor man square on the cheek.

Anathema throws her hands over her mouth and gasps.

Crowley launches swiftly to his feet.

Aziraphale stops walking.

“What on Earth!?” Aziraphale mutters, pivoting quickly on his heel and looking over at them in surprise. But he doesn’t see Anathema at all. The second the muffin hits its mark, she says, "Good luck!" and bolts inside the shop, leaving her red-faced companion staring, mouth agape, at the man glaring back with a cheek covered in mascarpone cheese filling.

Aziraphale must recognize the culprit is Crowley because his demeanor changes. He smiles bashfully, feeling his pockets for a handkerchief, but his eyes never leave Crowley's face.

Silently, and from her hiding place just inside, Anathema cheers.

She knew it! She just knew it! 

After a few awkward seconds of searching, Aziraphale still can't seem to find it, and Crowley, realizing that this is the chance he's been waiting for, hurries to the rescue. 

On the brief saunter over, he debates the best opening line for this situation. Hello is first on the list. Hi sounds a bit too casual. Yo pops up to make a short appearance but is brutally beaten to death. What ends up coming out of Crowley's mouth, not even a contender, is, “Here,” as he thrusts a black handkerchief Aziraphale's way.

“Oh!" Aziraphale accepts it gratefully. "Thank you so much, my dear."

"Crowley," Crowley corrects, biting his tongue hard after because what did he have against this man calling him my dear? Not a single, Goddammed thing!

"Aziraphale," Aziraphale offers. "Uh … was that your muffin?”

“No! I mean, ngk … yes, it was. But someone tossed it … I suppose?” Crowley looks over at Anathema, who has the gall to spy on them through her front window, smiling like anything and making, what he can only describe as, encouraging hand motions.

“What kind was it?”

“The muffin of the day - apple cider, filled with …”

“Mascarpone cheese, yes," Aziraphale finishes with a frown. "Was it tasty, at least?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. Didn’t get a nibble of it.”

“Pity.” Aziraphale side-eyes Crowley as he watches him wipe the remaining cheese off his cheek. “Thank you for this,” he says, gesturing with the handkerchief. “I’ll get it cleaned for you.”

“Keep it. This way you have an extra, just in case. You never know when some rogue baker might throw a muffin at you again. Or a doughnut.”

“True. A jam-filled would ruin this coat. It’s one of my favorites, too.”

“Is it?" Crowley steps back, gives the garment a casual once over as if he doesn't have the thing memorized - every line from shoulder to hem, the position of the pockets, the lay of the lapels. "It suits you.”

“Thank you," Aziraphale says, self-consciously tugging at the seams, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. 

The two men fall silent. Anathema, palms pressed against the glass, starts dramatically mouthing, "Do something! One of you! Do something!"

Neither of them sees her, but Aziraphale says, "Now I’m curious.”

“About what?”

“I’ve never had one of the specialty muffins. Creature of habit, I’m afraid. Always order the same thing.”

“I think she has one left if you’d like to give it a go.”

Aziraphale bites his lower lip, his cheeks turning a fetching shade of rose. “Do you think … would you mind splitting it with me? Then we can both satisfy our curiosities.”

That last part sounds like an invitation to more than sharing a muffin, and Crowley, admittedly dense to those sorts of flirtations, is determined not to let it pass him by.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

Anathema beams when she sees Aziraphale and Crowley heading her way, flashing them a double thumbs-up that only Crowley catches. Crowley rolls his eyes. Aziraphale looks in time to see the top of her head drop below the sill, another unfortunate chair upturning behind her. “Is that the young lady who runs the shop?” he asks, pointing at Anathema's bun bobbing away from the window towards the counter.

“I believe it is,” Crowley says dismissively.

“Is she quite all right?”

“No.” Crowley sets the chairs right at the small table and offers one to Aziraphale. “Not in the slightest.”

[spice-chan]

Runaway Omega - Chapter 4

You and Sho sat down with steaming tea, about to drink it in more ways then one.

“So...” it was you that broke the silence.

“If you want to stay, you have to know who the father of my child is, since he might come looking for them if he finds out” you explained. Plus, it’d be super weird to have your roomie’s pup suddenly showing dragon scales.

“I’m telling you this because I trust you, and I expect you to tell no one Sho” I warned, watching him nod his head and keep rabid attention on me.

“So it’s the current dragon prince Bakugo” I confessed, watching his eyes widen, the only indicator of his surprise as he still maintained his poker face.

“After being together for years, he suddenly said that I was beneath him, that I was a distraction to him.” I said, my voice broken at the memory of how my heart broke. At the look on your face, Sho’s jaw tightened.

“You might still not believe this, but I came from the dragon kingdom, I used to be the castle healer.”

Shoto wasn’t aware that the soon to be dragon king was such an asshole. Their kingdom’s aren’t particularly close, so there wasn’t much interaction between them, but Shoto already hated him.

Beneath him ? (Y/n) is a thousand times better then he must be.

“I couldn’t stand to stay there, he was set to be coronated in a few months, and he probably wanted to take the weeds out before he was king, it’s probably why he never marked me or mentioned it; he never intended to.” Your voice hitched. You avoided thinking about this for so long, retelling the tale suddenly opened up a dam of emotion. The betrayal, insecurity, hopelessness you felt after he said those words, when you laid in bed for a few days waiting for him to apologize. The self pity after you saw how sad you are, waiting for a man that rejected you.

He lifted his head, then opened his arms and enveloped you in them.

Surrounded by his strong Alpha scent, potent, yet so virile and comforting, made the dam finally break.

Your shoulders shook as a sob wrecked through you. Crying for wasted years, tears pouring out in memory of the man who consumed your childhood and early adulthood, your first love. The person who you thought, is the one.

He never reciprocated your affections as readily as you gave them to him, but you thought that’s fine, that’s Katsuki, at least he’s trying. He’ll get there one day.

But now here’s Sho, willingly giving all you’ve ever wanted from Bakugo all those years.

Your Omega lifted her head in interest, her head for once not completely filled with thoughts about the pup.

Suddenly, surrounded by his virile Alpha scent and his warm arms, your face flushed crimson, heart picked up speed as you reciprocated his hug.

Then your shoulders shook while a sob wrecked through you. Your emotions flooded and fogged your mind, while a lump settled in your throat, rendering you mute.

You cried and cried, until all your energy was sapped out of you.

When you woke up, you were still in Sho’s arms, still in the sofa. He was awake and silently staring at you.

“Oh, your awake. You passed out for a while there” Sho said nonchalantly.

You gaped at him. Had he not moved from this spot at all?

“You should’ve woken me up” you chided him.

“I didn’t want to” he said.

“Besides, there’s somethings I have to say too”

Oh, right.

He’s probably going to tell you he’s going to leave-

“My name is actually Shoto Todoroki” he declared.

An awkward silence befall you, Sho’s confession hanging in the air.

“Fuck, you’re who ?” Your question cut the silence like a dagger. The Todorokis... he doesn’t mean that he’s actually....

“Shoto Todoroki, third prince of the ice kingdom” he once again repeated, with nonchalance that doesn’t go hand in hand to what he’s just confessed.

“Sho, are you serious ?” You asked him with disbelief painting over your features.

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sho holds both of his hands out, palms facing upwards, and suddenly, ice sprouted from his right, and a small flame lit up in his palm.

You might not have believed him otherwise.

You gasped and covered your mouth. The infamous third prince, the only dual wielder of both his parents powers. He is heard of across lands, famous for his raw power and potential.

The Sho that you shared a bed with, the one who carried groceries with you, Sho who couldn’t peel potatoes to save his life... he’s a prince ?

You were suddenly impressed with his humility. He had not shown an ounce of arrogance while with you, even though he came up from such a prestigious background. Certainly contrasts with a certain ash blond who didn’t see how a simple healer such as you would he worth his highness’s time.

God, how did he even end up here ?

“But then, why would you want to stay with me ? “ came out the simple question plaguing your mind. He has such a promising future, yet he chose to stay here and limit himself to this simple and mundane life with you.

He turned his head and stared at the wall with a faraway expression, scrutiny still evident in his eyes, as if searching for the answer himself. His dual coloured irises glinted.

He turned his body to you, and took both of your hands in his and softly squeezed them, looking at them to admire how delicately they fit in his. His thumb softly stroked your soft hands, making your Omega squeal in happiness, and heart squeal at the act of affection, at the fondness residing in his eyes.

“I pondered the answer for a while now...-“ he started, sharp eyes suddenly meeting your own ”-but it must be because of a certain cute Omega who showed me the definition of home”.

“I too, have left home, after years of abuse and neglect, Enji decided to seek redemption, and I was just... so overwhelmed. I didn’t want to stay in that place anymore, to be used for this inherited power for his selfish gains. I can’t trust that he’s truly repentant.” The temperature of the room dropped with his confession. He dropped his head and his hair fell to cover his face, as if shielding him from the world and its grievances.

Your hand reached out and swept the hair away, seeing a beautiful grey arise look up from the floor then to you.

The world somehow intertwined our fates. Two runaways, one a prince and another a healer from a completely different kingdom. One would never expect the two of us to be together, but here we are, sitting in a small living room, locked in an embrace, a curtain covering you guys from the prying eyes of the world and its occupants.

He comforted you, now it was your turn. Although he wasn’t shedding any tears, his downhearted expression spoke in higher volumes then any sob ever could. You and your Omega whimpered at his sadness.

“Sho, do you enjoy living with me ? “ you asked softly.

You fully tuned to face you, and nodded his head earnestly.

“Yes, more then I’ve ever enjoyed anything.”

You smiled at his answer, his eyes soaked in your smile, then his own lips tugged to form one 0f his own. He caressed your cheek, his smile still intact.

“Then Sho, you don’t need to be sad, we have each other. But of course, if you ever decide to venture away, I won’t stop you, I want your happiness just as much as I crave a happiness of my own.” Your smile turned a bit sad at the end, involuntarily. The thought of the stoic yet adorable Alpha leaving you behind made your Omega whine and your heart stutter in displeasure.

You were startled when Sho growled, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I’d never leave you and the pup alone” he chided.

“But Sho, you don’t really owe me anything.”

“I know, but yet I still can never find it in me to leave you, I don’t know why...” he mused, trailing off at the end in confusion.

Maybe you miscalculate how attached he is to you and the pup. The fact that he was there during your pregnancy before you even formed a bump would also make his Alpha slightly protective of you. You decided not to fret it anymore.

“Ok Sho, I’m going to take a shower. Need to unwind from all this drama.”

He nodded and smiled at you. The sight still foreign and as heart fluttering as the first time you saw it. His smile was like a warm fire on a snowy day, soothing to the soul.

...........

You squeezed your shampoo bottle, finding barely anything to lather your hair with. You sighed deciding to make do with what little you have, but your eyes caught sight of Sho’s bottle.

You grabbed his bottle and finished your shower using it, the slightly more masculine and musky scent not deterring you in the slightest.

You finished your shower and wore a fluffy sleeping dress. You smelt so much like Sho, it was soothing. Your pup seemed to be soothed by it too, you can feel it somehow.

You felt so relaxed that your eyelids begun to grow heavy.

Suddenly, you felt a kick.

Sleep was knocked out of the window.

“SHO !”

The heard rapid footsteps pounding the floor until the doorknob was opened and Sho barged in, eyes drinking every corner of the room for threat.

His eyes landed on the corner where your nest lay with your excited body on top. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He glared at you, making your stomach drop.

“Sho the pup kicked.”

The glare was wiped straight away.

“Really ?!”

“Yeah, it was right there” you said while pointing to the side of your bump where you felt the kick. You were 7 months in, so it was kinda expected. Time passes so fast.

Sho rushed over and put his hand where you pointed, and jumped when he felt a kick.

Shoto was overcome was so much happiness, he let out a purr. Shoto was confused by his own immeasurable contentment, the pup wasn’t really his, it was yours, so why did he already feel like that pup was a part of him ?

You returned the purr with one of your own, your happiness leaking into your eyes. Your little pup is kicking.

Suddenly, Sho got close and sniffed.

“You smell like me” he surmised. He seemed somewhat pleased, if you’re reading his stoic expression right. He got closer and rubbed his neck against your scent gland.

“Now you really do”

You blushed at his bold actions.

“Sho, umm, while you are here, can you scent some things for me ?” You said while holding a fluffy plushy to him. You felt shy asking something so intimate, but you wanted to have his scent in your nest for a while now. It made you feel safe.

He grabbed it from you and rubbed it against his scent gland, soaking it in his scent. He seemed like he was in a daze, walking on clouds. Sho did feel that way.

There you were, wearing a sleeping dress with a cute sleepy look laying somewhere underneath the excitement. With a bump that would make any Alpha or Beta leap in happiness, sitting there on your nest asking him to scent things.

You can’t really blame Sho for what he’s tempted to do. You were there, looking as ripe as an apple, begging to be plucked from the tree.

Sho inched closer to you, then pushed you back on your nest. Your supine form was towered over by Shoto’s while he inched closer and closer to you. You could feel his breath intermingling with yours.

Then he pushed forward, capturing your lips with his own, holding you captive against his charm. Your nose was overwhelmed with his scent, your ears filled with the sounds made by the harmony of your lips. At this moment, there was no other man in the world then Shoto. His lips were so soft, so passionate.

His hands buried in your hair, and your own found themselves in a similar predicament. You wondered why you didn’t do this before.

Then you remembered why and tensed up.

You pushed Sho away, breathing heavily, your lips a redder shade of rouge then normal, but to Shoto’s eyes, it seemed more like rubies glistening. Beginning the dragon to hoard it.

And Shoto did plan on making you his treasure.

Although, Sho reacted purely on instincts, he didn’t think this far.

“(Y/n) tell me, what does it mean when my heart beats faster around you, when I turn hot whenever you show me affection, when the world seems brighter when I see you smile.” Shoto said, taking your hand and placing it against his pounding heart. It might’ve sounded like it came straight out of a theatre, but it’s how Shoto felt. He didn’t find any other way to communicate the reason for his kissing you other then describing his unadulterated feelings. He felt suspicious of you, but was so enamored when he discovered the purity of your soul, untainted with the greed that seemed to consume everyone around him. When he saw the little habits you exhibited, when he became addicted to your smile, your happiness being his. Shoto couldn’t blame it on spice and weather anymore, eventually.

“Well...based on your symptoms, I diagnose you with love Sho” you boldly replied, and to your amusement, the male solemnly nodded, as if he was diagnosed with a fatal illness.

“I see” he replied. Your heart however palpitated in surprise when he suddenly gave you a peck.

“Will the reason for my ailment take responsibility?”

That made you pause. 7 months ago, you were with an Alpha that you knew for most of your life and thought you’d be mated to someday. But now, it seems as if you are narrating a tale from long, long ago. But truly it was 7 months. And somehow, narrating the tale makes it sound so unattached to you, something that you would be stupid to let hold you back.

“I guess I have no choice” you smiled at him, then pulled him in for another kiss.

[evangelene]

Despite What You Are (5)

Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?

Based on this request:

“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”

Thoughts from the bedside

 Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

It was bright. Sunny, borderline too sunny—the first time you were seeing the outside world since your departure from the world due to a smoky shitpile of a vampire injury. There probably should’ve been more fear associated with the act, but it was real hard to be fearful when Namjoon stood by your side.

Perhaps that moment should have been your first clue to your inevitable fate. But you were dumb, always and forever.

Without thinking, you sunk down to the grass, feeling the heat of the earth seep into your bones. Even when you were at the hunter’s association, the only version of the outside you ever got to see was one covered in barbed, electric wire and asphalt that desperately needed to be replaced.

Nothing really ever lived there; even the weeds were nonexistent--as if even the Earth knew that place smothered everything that tried to survive.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on the side of your face as you closed your eyes to the healing power of nature Yeah sure, it was just some fucking grass—but for someone who hadn’t seen nor felt grass in several years, it was heaven. There was even a pathetic little tree within eyesight that looked like the tree of life to an environmentally starved human such as yourself.

“What was it like in the human compound—not the Hunters’, but the one you came from?”

“Mmm.” You didn’t open your eyes because, well, you didn’t want to yet. “It was home. I grew up there; I had parents, friends and a life that actually felt like a life. I went to school and graduated; I had plans to get married and have a steady job. I remember that it was a place that felt safe and felt like it would bring me happiness... It was a place where I could dream. I haven’t dreamt in so long—it was better not to then to be crushed by what couldn’t be.”

Namjoon was silent for a moment, contemplative. “I wonder what my dream was before you. I can’t seem to remember if I even had one.”

“Namjoon!” It was perhaps the most horrifying noise to have ever graced your throat—somewhere between a growl and a shriek that ripped your vocal chords and left dryness at the back of your tongue. However, with the wire wrapping around your waist--threatening to cut off circulation to your desperate, dragging feet--you couldn’t find it in you to care about the pain of your scream. Rather, you let out another.

“Namjoon!”

There were tears coming to your eyes before you could stop them, adrenaline injecting itself into your veins out of frustration. Garlic. It smelled like too much garlic and the metallic tang of blood. If you were in a better state of mind, you would have chuckled about the fact that you finally, finally got rid of the smell of garlic burned into your nostrils from years of soaking weaponry. Before you could scream again, a gloved hand enclosed around your mouth—that motherfucking radio buzzing with static before a voice you desperately didn’t want to hear reverberated through the streets.

Don’t let her escape.

Despite the fact that the blood running through your system turned to ice, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Namjoon, sandwiched between Taehyung and Yoongi as they looped their arms through his. His screams somehow made it past the rushing in your ears and the silence of your body loosing the majority of its senses.

You hated that you could still hear the sizzle of garlic hitting his skin, the god awful smell permeating your nostrils.

I’ve got a read on your location—I’ll send backup. Make sure she’s alive.

Suddenly, as if you hadn’t been thinking about it every waking second—as if you haven’t been planning on putting your life in the hands of some shoddy medicine to remove it—you remembered the implant the Hunter’s Association had placed within you.

Hey, at least now you knew it was a GPS, right?

Yeah that did absolutely shit nothing to comfort you and before you knew it there was a god awful noise that sounded more feline than humanoid ripping through your chest.

Like a tiny, miniscule insect caught in a widow’s web, you shook and struggled. Every limb flailed fingers and joints digging into every available surface area of the woman holding you hostage. Your hands came up to rip the stupid lens off her face—the fucking bullshit piece of technology that Hunters wore regardless of the time of day. You nearly managed to reach her eye before she jerked her head away, your legs trying to kick out the back of her knee in her distraction. In a final act of desperation, your teeth sunk into the leather of her glove, trying to break flesh.

The wire around your waist cinched tighter around you, digging into your skin as you let out a god-awful shriek. “Fuck off!” But it was muffled through leather and hunter’s fingers.

She’s being unreasonable. Sedate her.

Another hunter approached you, ready to help assist the woman holding you like a wild animal needing to be removed from someone’s home.

“Oh fuck no!” You spat, hoisting your legs up to press square against his chest, shoving with all of your weight to keep him at bay. You couldn’t go down yet. Not yet. Namjoon was hurt. Namjoon needed you and these people would have to do everything in their power to stop you from going to him if they had any hope of keeping you.

Not that you were strong. God you wished you were strong now more than ever.

One of the woman’s hands freed themselves to search through the pack buckled around her hips.

Your mind raced, trying to travel back to hunter’s training, trying to remember what sedatives they had—how quickly they took effect. Would you have time to escape before you went down? Would you make it back to them?

Would you make it back to Namjoon before it was too late?

Too late. Too late for who?

Your eyes scanned the battle wildly, hunters invading the corners of your visions like the black spots you see when you’re about to pass out. Through their backs, you could see Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin fighting them off in an attempt to get to you. Occasionally, one of them would look up at you and you could see their desperation increase in the power of a hit thrown to a human.

Y/N. I’m well aware that you can hear me.

Your laser focus slid back to the walkie at the female’s hip.

Your whole body froze at the sound of your name, one of your feet propped on the face of the hunter in front of you while your arms shook from the effort of holding back the huntress’ hand armed with a needle--far too close to your skin for comfort.  

I want to personally congratulate you. When you come home, you can expect to see a medal waiting for you in your honor. You brought us directly to Kim Namjoon. You brought down the largest and most powerful clan on the entire continent—you should be proud. Despite your previous disobedience, I will have you know that your slate will be cleaned with this gift to us.

A year ago, the news would have been good to hear for yourself. One less clan? One less powerful ass vampire to threaten your life? Great. Excellent.

But, since the only remaining strand of fear currently inhabiting your body was for Namjoon and his safety, you realized that you were no longer that girl from a year ago. You were no longer afraid of the world outside your walls, you were no longer afraid of all vampires and you sure as hell had no fear for the people that you once were forced to consider comrades.

God, if you could spit in the General’s Assistant’s face, you would have hocked the biggest motherfucking loogie your body could offer.

“And what makes you think I want your useless medal?” You hissed, returning from the depths of your repressed memories to the present moment. With renewed vigor, you clamped your legs around the male hunter’s head. Every ounce of strength you owned went to your core and abs, lip curling as you began the process of crushing the motherfucker’s head. His hands reached up to claw at your thighs, his mouth gasping for breath as the woman’s efforts to save her fellow hunter distracted her from the bigger picture: you. Still using your strength to kill, you discovered the ability to multi-task long enough to snap the needle out of her weakened hand.

One threat down. For now.

Not to say she couldn’t grab another. Not to say you weren’t one more hunter away from being dragged back to the base camp.

Are you choosing their side?

You looked up to meet Hoseok’s gaze, as he was the closest and the most active in trying to get to you. He was the one within earshot; he was the one that was most likely going to bring you back to Namjoon or get hurt trying.  And god did you love him for it.

(Vampires don’t make any sense)

“Yeah, well, humans don’t make much of it either.”

“You’re smart enough to answer that on your own.” You chuckled darkly, adjusting your grip on the man enough to be able to get a better grasp on his skull—the prior position obviously wasn’t working because…well… he was still breathing. The huntress behind you jerked you to the side in an attempt to remove you from the man you were smothering between your legs. However, it was the worst life-saving attempt you’d seen yet, considering you hadn’t let up on your vice grip and you had no intentions to do so.

All it did was snap his neck.

“But yes.” You murmured to his body as his hands slumped off your thighs and the huntress screamed out in rage directly in your ear. “I choose his side.” You slammed your skull back into her face, wincing at the throbbing of your eardrum.

The statement was all it took for Hoseok to take that final burst towards you, any concern for the bullets fired from the guns all around you lost in that moment. Your concern for his safety, however, only increased until you finally saw why he was no longer worried about the garlic soaked threats: Jimin was using the remainder of his strength to aid Hoseok (Small, almost invisible shields no bigger than a dinner plate—ten at max, so, considering Jimin’s weakened state, it was probably like five. The younger had told you about his ability one night when you were far too curious and far too drunk off some wine Jungkook raided for you).

If you had been in a less concerned state of mind, you probably would have noticed that his lips were moving in an attempt to convey a very important message to you. One that you blatantly ignored because one: it was loud as hell currently, and two: you were dumb.

Hoseok growled in frustration at you as you furrowed your brow on him, thrashing in the huntress’ grip whilst you tried (and failed) to read his lips. You would have absolutely bombed any whisper challenge.

It wasn’t until he was practically in front of you that you could finally make out what he was trying to say, and surprise! It wasn’t “Do apes eat chocolate?”

“Y/N! Cover your ears!”

“I think that Hoseok has the worst ability.” Jiwoo said during one of her bouts of oversharing. You two were similar in that aspect. Suddenly, when presented with a genuine friend willing to listen to your endless rambling, you both found silence impossible and filled it to the brim with ADD thoughts. “I mean, not the worst as in, like, useless—but worst as in fatal.” She made a face at the ceiling. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Jiwoo.” You, too, chuckled to the ever listening ceiling. “You did, but continue anyways. I really want to know now.”

“Well…like…how do I put this…” She paused. “Okay, well he can alter his vocal chords in a way that can bust the brains of whoever he chooses. It’s like a sonic scream—however it’s all dependent on the tone. He’s perfected the right note to kill humans within his radius. Vampires are another story; he’s been working on that one. Apparently vampiric brains vary too much to make it easy for him.”

In a heated scramble as the woman screamed “STAND DOWN” in your already aching ear, you wrestled your hands free—nearly slapping yourself in the process of trying to keep your brain in your head. You thought that having the precious organ leaking out your ears would not be an attractive or life-sustaining look.

The sound burst through your fingers anyways, shimmying through your ear drums until your head was shaking with the force of Hoseok’s screams. The people around you froze and twisted like they’d been shot, bodies contorting at impossible angles as if they were exploding from the inside out.

In the chaos, Hoseok was able to get close enough to you to slap his hands over yours as added cushion to the hell of his voice. Despite both layers of skin and bone, you still felt blood dribble down from your nose and onto your upper lip. You screwed your eyes shut and clenched your jaw against the dampened noise; god, you did not want to imagine what it would sound like with bare ears.

The huntress behind you finally slumped, the wire around your waist loosening to a puddle at your feet, now that the person holding it was no longer living.

When Hoseok’s hands finally lifted off of yours—it couldn’t have been longer than five seconds, even if it felt like an eternity to your dum hooman brain—your ears were still ringing.

But you were alive.

Which, honestly, was more than you could say for the fallen hunters strewn around you like dead flies.

You didn’t want to look behind you, but curiosity got the better of you and you wound up making eye contact with the woman who had been holding you hostage. Granted, her eyes were darkened and seeing nothing—but that didn’t stop the frozen look of pain on her face as blood leaked from every possible orifice. If you weren’t so preoccupied in your thoughts, you probably would have thrown up. Instead, you just spit the gathered blood in your mouth at the ground, frowning at the radio on her hip.

“If you can hear me, fuck you.” You mumbled, if only because your tongue felt heavy and the world was swaying around you.  You doubted that he could; the words were for your own sanity, for your own control of your life. For Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Namjoon needed you.

You took one swirling look at Hoseok, nodding your thanks because you couldn’t remember how to use your vocal chords. Your first attempt at bolting back towards the compound was thwarted by the fact that your legs were now noodles and the ground was pitched at a drunken angle. Gracefully, you wound up slamming into the busted concrete in a pile of limbs. But, like the stubborn mule you were, determination had you back on your feet and plowing forward before you could even process the fact that you had actually fallen on top of a dead body.

There was a fierce ringing in your ears and every breath you took sounded too loud for the sudden silence of the universe but that one singular thought outweighed every earthly issue.

He chuckled softly. “You are a very interesting human, Y/N.”

Somewhere in the distance, in a faraway parallel universe where your body was but your mind wasn’t, you could feel the pain, exhaustion and agony of moving as fast as you were forcing yourself to. However, it was easily washed out by the pounding of your heart in your chest and the buzz of worry in your brain.

He still had the same smile though.

Bursting through the gates of the compound like a garlic soaked madwoman, you scanned the crowd of equally panicked vampires, failing to note the ones trying to direct you in favor of focusing on the most devastating sound you’d ever heard:

Namjoon’s agonized screams of pain.

Rushing out onto the warehouse floor, you noted that they had haphazardly tossed him onto a table, several vampires holding down his limbs in an attempt to stop him from writhing to the floor. A very unsure and emotionally unstable Taehyung was wiping at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood despite his thrashing.

Everything that had been burning hot in your body instantly hit its freezing point, suddenly making you unable to feel your extremities.

Mechanically, as if you knew you couldn’t touch him with your own bloodied, garlic-tainted hands, you ripped off large chunks of your shirt to wrap around them. You stepped towards him slowly, giving yourself enough time to prepare yourself for what you had to do.

However, you, yourself were at a lack of what that might be.

You couldn’t tear your eyes from him—everyone else disappeared around you as if he was the only remaining being on this planet besides yourself. He was sweating with a fever, his skin paling before your eyes.

Vampires don’t get sick.

“Namjoon.” You whispered, completely ignoring the concern of Taehyung by your shoulder. Gingerly, you placed your clothed palms against his chest to get better leverage for you to take a closer look at his wound. Luckily, it appeared that the bullet had just grazed his neck--which would have been fine for him were it a normal bullet. However, since it was garlic laced, the location was perhaps the worst spot in his body to receive such a wound.

Since it was in a place that was directly flowing garlic laden blood to a system that couldn’t handle the substance.

“Namjoon.” You whispered again.

He only let out a huff of breath and a pained grown, his eyes unable to focus on anything in front of him.

Get rid of it, you have to get rid of it. You have to take out the garlic. You have to---

Your hand reached up to cup his face, forcing his gaze to flicker to you.

“Namjoon, look at me please. If you can hear me, please look at me.” Your brow furrowed in determination. “Don’t close your eyes. I need you to stay awake. I need you to look at me. If you—if you close your eyes and I lose you then what was the fucking point of all of this?” You hissed because you wanted to shout but you couldn’t make yourself any louder than you already were.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you watched cool droplets pepper his skin.

Shakily, he freed one hand from the vampires holding him, slowly reaching up to brush away your tears intermingled with blood; his blood or yours, you didn’t know.

You could feel it then, whatever “it” was. You could feel him. You could feel his pain, his fear, his worry. You could feel what he was thinking without being able to process it into words. And, in that moment, you knew you would risk it all for him.

Because….because….

Because I love you.

“Trust me.” You murmured, leaning into his touch before shifting to get a better grasp on him.

Water wouldn’t work, and with a lack of medical knowledge or equipment, there wasn’t a better way to get rid of the poison in his system.

So you did what only a human could do. You leaned down, feeling the heat of his fever radiate a scorching energy across your skin as you got closer to the wound. Swallowing one last free breath, you steeled your nerves and latched your lips around the wound.

You took an experimental bite, gathering as much blood as you could in your mouth before leaning up to spit the garlic laden liquid into the hem of your destroyed shirt. The second time you went in, he jolted against you—his body letting out an awful groan that quickly became a borderline scream. It took every bit of muscle you didn’t have to hold him down and repeat the process.

In that moment, you felt like an honest to god vampire—the ones from the history books; the ones that turned out to be incomparable to the real ones. The ones prior to the War of 2048. The ones that drank blood and lived in the darkness and didn’t understand humans as a source for anything but food.

The ones that wouldn’t be able to grasp your free hand as tightly as the one beneath you.

You continued until you couldn’t taste garlic anymore, until his skin slowly returned to its normal, honeyed color. You continued until the vampires around him could release him because he was no longer shaking uncontrollably. You continued until his sweat broke and the heat of his skin no longer scalded yours, until you couldn’t take the continued taste of his blood—until it became more metallic than sweet.

In a final gasp of breath, you spit the remainder into your soaked shirt, lifting your head to wipe at the smear of blood on your chin.

His eyes bore into your face with a clarity that relieved the majority of your worries.

He still couldn’t move properly, and he still wasn’t fully himself because, naturally, it would take a while for him to gather back his full strength. But what mattered was that he was here now. He was alive and there wasn’t enough garlic remaining in his system to threaten his life.

Taehyung handed you a fresh rag, allowing you to press it against Namjoon’s wound as he coughed. His words were weak, but you were hyper focused on him and could have heard them even if he didn’t make a sound. “This…” He coughed again. “This wasn’t what you wanted.”

Your eyes felt like they were being held open with toothpicks, your body succumbing to exhaustion now that the adrenaline was quickly leaving you behind. Despite it all, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his worry. “No. This wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I…” He licked his lips. “I’m not what you wanted.”

You brushed his damp hair off of his forehead, continuing to hold pressure to his neck. You couldn’t help the gentle smile you gave him. He was cute.

This vulnerable version of him was cute.

“No.” You murmured. “No you weren’t.”

You could see the smile in his eyes, if only because his face had trouble making any expression other than tired pain. “But you stayed.”

You could have left. You could have let them take you back to the humans.

But you didn’t.

He didn’t have to say it for you to hear it, for you to read it in the features of his face.

You nodded, feeling your heart go rogue against your sternum. “I did.” You chuckled. “I did.”

~.~

You rested your head against the wall of the bathroom, brow furrowed on the ceiling. Every ounce of your energy was zapped into oblivion, leaving you a heaping mess on the floor of the restroom you’d been banished to.

In the wake of their clan leader being injured, you’d been removed from his side to go clean up—however, with the six currently occupied, the other vampires deemed you dangerous (what with your garlic hands) and, unbeknownst to the people who gave a shit about you, you were forced to take care of yourself. That, however, was hard to do when you were a walking injury who found out she could no longer move.

Not like you could blame the vampires though, as far as they were concerned, you were a walking weapon. And, well, they didn’t really understand the human body’s limits—the only people who did were otherwise occupied.

Of course, that didn’t change the slight sting of loneliness in your bones. Honestly, you were spoiled being around people who cared about you for more than the title of your chess piece.

It made you want to continue to be cared about.

Well, it was your fault that you made yourself a garlic bomb during a vampiric battle.

Battle? Were you really part of a battle? Did you seriously live through a battle?

Who the fuck were you now? Some freaking heroine in a dystopian novel?

With a scoff that determined you were no longer going to mope and feel sorry for yourself, you weaseled your way up into a sitting position—albeit with too much effort and a heaving amount of pain that had you wincing and biting your cheek to stop from crying out.

“Okay, Y/N. Next step.” You murmured to yourself, grabbing the edge of your destroyed shirt. “You can do this.” You managed to get the fabric to your shoulders before you forehead broke out into a sheen of sweat and you gasped out a pathetic noise of pain at your aching and bruised muscles. “Okay, girl, maybe you can’t do this.”

It was at that moment, with you pathetically bearing your ruined bra to the universe inside the bathroom walls that the door burst open with absolutely no hint of delicacy.

You honestly couldn’t find it in you to give a shit as you tilted your head up to meet the intruder’s gaze.

Jiwoo’s angered stare met yours, the rage transforming into worry within one millisecond as she caught sight of you pathetically slouched on the tile. You didn’t get a chance to speak or unpack any of her emotions before she was letting out a snarl.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Who?”  You would have been scared if she didn’t look like she was going to cry. If your arms weren’t dead weight in your lap and if you legs could work you would have hugged her.

“Everyone. The people that did this to you, the vampires that thought you could fix yourself on your own, you for getting into this mess--everyone.” You hadn’t realized she had been holding the door open until she fully stepped inside and let it slam behind her with an earthquake thud.

You only nodded stupidly, your gaze cast down to your hands and the bloody, smelly mess that they had become. “I have garlic on me.”

She crouched down, grabbing the non garlic soaked bit of your shirt to remove it entirely before tossing it into a corner.  You didn’t miss the way her lip curled at it in disgust. “So?” Her voice was soft in comparison to the steel of her features as she crouched down in front of you. “I can’t believe they left you all alone in here. How are you supposed to care for yourself in this state?”

The longer she squatted before you, the longer she assessed the damage done to your body, the deeper the crease between her brows got. It would have been a shame if she gave herself wrinkles, she was pretty.

“What about Yoongi? The others? They need more attention than me—“

“Y/N.” She cut you off grabbing both of your hands despite the grit of her teeth as the garlic sizzled into her skin. If only because you were afraid she would hurt herself further, you let her lift you to your feet so she could help you wash the blood and pasta sauce from your hands.  It was definitely her doing the lifting too; you were more ragdoll than human at the moment. “I won’t let you be alone. Not right now.”

You stared at your feet, letting her take care of you—refusing to meet your own stare in the cracked and dirty mirror above the sink. Who wanted to look at themselves when they knew they were the reason for everything that just happened?  She reached over to the first aid kit that had been tossed in the room with you earlier, frowning at the pathetic array of medical equipment garnered for you. “There’s not even anything to scrub you with.” It seemed her disdain for the vampires that left you in here by yourself was only growing by the second, her anger a ticking time bomb. You felt she didn’t know what else to be—you felt like she felt as helpless as you did.

“Ji, its fine, really—“ But, when you lifted your head you could see her taking her shirt off behind you, dunking the fabric into the sink before you could even form any words. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m taking care of you.” She said simply, grabbing your arm to begin cleaning the stale blood from your skin. “Because you can’t and he can’t and no one else will.”

“I can do it.” You murmured weakly, but if it weren’t for her grasp on you, you would probably have collapsed to the floor; even she could see that. Your eyes followed the path she cleaned, wincing at the pain that came with the archeology of healing. Underneath layers of dirt and blood you both discovered the cuts and bruises—the threatening fractures that had you making pathetic noises in the back of your throat. You discovered the pain that settled into your bones and made you immobile; even you didn’t know just how bad your injuries were. You hadn’t really had the chance to figure it out in the wake of Namjoon.

But the masochistic part of you said that it wasn’t enough pain—you should have more. You should be dead—you should—

“Why?” Jiwoo whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why would you put yourself in danger like this? Namjoon—he could have handled it himself.”

You knew that. A deep-set part of you knew that. As her shirt turned washcloth soothed the heated ache in your back with cold water, you knew that everything you did was in vain. Even sitting there, safe and sound in an abandoned bathroom, you could still hear Namjoon’s screams. You could still hear the buzz of the walkie talkie’s feedback.

You could still smell garlic.

“He could have.” You murmured.

All your fault, Y/N. This is all your fault. If you weren’t so stupid he would have been alive and well and completely fine.

So would that Hunter you were partnered with.              

Jiwoo’s gaze softened on you, her forehead resting against your temple. “If it was Yoongi, I know I would have done that same. But you and I—we are different species, you have to know that. You matter too much, Y/N. What would we do without you?”

You felt tears building in your eyes, that pathetic, fragile spine of yours folding easily to your fear, your blame and your guilt. You were nothing if you weren’t weak-willed, a human afraid of everything.

Especially herself.

“I wanted to keep him safe.” You whispered. “I’m nothing special, just a dumb human. But he’s done all of this for me and I—I-I—“

Jiwoo’s arms were around you before you could think properly, the pain in your bones a punishment you bared with all the grace of gritted teeth and a yelp of pain that you swallowed in your chest. Her hugs were a force to be reckoned with, because they were usually the contact you got when you needed it most.

“You are incredibly special.” Her anger tried to punch through your thick skull like a lobotomy needle, quick, sharp and to the point. “You aren’t special just because Namjoon is your mate, not just because you’re a small, fractional possibility in a sea of normality. You aren’t special because your fear tastes like what I imagine your human sugar tastes like to you. You are special because you are Y/N. There is only one you; no one can replace you.”

“Everyone is replaceable.”

She shook her head. “No. Not everyone is. Not everyone can make Hoseok laugh so loud that he breaks the glass to the oven. Not everyone can make Taehyung distract enough to get lost during missions because he was looking for a game—if only because he now has someone who wants to play with him. Not everyone can make Seokjin smile like we’ve never seen in years. Not everyone can make Jungkook control himself around a human as much as you can; if only because he wants to be your friend so bad that he forces himself to do the impossible. There hasn’t been a single person—vampire or human—to understand me the way you have. Not everyone can stand up to a room full of vampires when it is obvious that they shake at the mere sight of them. Not everyone can dare to shoot a gun at death and still be standing of their own accord. Not everyone can stand in the middle of two species and find peace with what they had always considered their enemy. And for sure, there isn’t another person on this planet that could make Namjoon fight as hard as he is for you. Y/N, there is absolutely no one else like you. If you were not here, we would all suffer.”

At some point, during her speech that could have moved mountains, her thumbs had come up to brush away tears you hadn’t realized had been falling. It was a lot to say you were worth it when this mess was caused by you.

It’s all your fault he’s hurt.

“But I couldn’t save him.” You whispered.

Her hug was unrelenting, her care momentarily forgotten in the wake of your emotional trauma. “You did.”

“But it was my fault that it happened in the first place.”

“It was the Hunter’s Association’s gun, not yours.”

“But—but I am a Hunter.”

She pulled back to asses you, her eyes flitting across your face as if she was trying to figure out if this was truly a person she knew. “Are you?” Her brow furrowed on you. “Have you ever killed a vampire, Y/N? Hell—“ She scoffed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“My--my actions caused people to die.”

The trees became made of blood, the petals falling bits of bone that dislodged from the branches. In the shadows you could see clawed hands reaching for you, pitch black eyes boring into yours as it grabbed your wrists and—

Jiwoo lifted your hands to your line of sight. Her hands weren’t clawed; her nails were blunt and normal around your wrists—gentle, even. Her eyes were clear and kind and didn’t whisper death threats in your ear. “These, Y/N. Have these hands ever taken life?”

You stared at her; the force of your nightmare dissipating around you launched you into a state of shock. It was a ghost that had haunted you, a shadow that never removed itself from you—something you could never get rid of.

But in the bathroom, there were no trees and there was no blood but your own.

You still had your guts in your stomach and you heart in your chest.

You shook your head.

She smiled, blinding in the close proximity. “Then you are not a Hunter, you are Y/N, a very special human. My most special human friend, someone I could not live without.”

The tears that fell could have been from the pain and exhaustion, from the relief of thinking you lost Namjoon, from the realization that your life was inextricably changed forever. But, for the first time in forever, you wanted to believe that they came from happiness.

It was funny how a vampire could be more human than humanity itself.

~.~

It was strange, to say the least. An odd feeling to have the roles reversed; like you were in a parallel universe where you were stronger than Kim Namjoon, the clan leader of the century. It didn’t feel right for you to be sitting curled up in the chair while he lay injured and breathing heavily on the bed.  How long ago was it that you woke up to those golden eyes? How long ago was it that you were in that bed while he was in that chair?

How long was it that you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t?

It had taken Jiwoo a tremendous amount of effort to get you upstairs and to the room—despite protests from both her and Taehyung who insisted that you get your own rest in a more comfortable place such as their own plush beds. However, you told them you wanted the chair; you told them that you wanted to see him—that you needed to be there. With pity in their eyes, they obliged if only because, by now, they knew you could be unreasonably stubborn when you wanted to.

It was a painful fold, no matter how you situated yourself in the furniture, you couldn’t get comfortable. Everything felt swollen and injured, threatening to tear your skin at the seams and spill all your metaphorical stuffing to the floor. But you wanted to be there.

It should have been boring, honestly. Sitting there aching and in pain and just staring at him as he slept should have been the epitome of torture. But it wasn’t.  There was something that stilled the panic inside of you just by watching him rest. Despite the way your fingers fiddled at your chest, you felt comfort in watching the rise and fall of his breaths. It didn’t help your nails from scratching at your skin as if you could reach through your own skin and rip out the device to blame for all of this. If you could have, you would have gone back in time and forced him back sooner. You wouldn’t have laid there on the asphalt like a tired heap of a human, you would have remembered about Jisung’s teleporter.

Maybe then this wouldn’t have been your fault.

But no what ifs and no time controlling could transfer this blame. Even the soft words from Jiwoo couldn’t erase the guilt settling in your gut. Nothing could stop the cacophony of sound from reverberating in your skull, bouncing through your brain until all you could hear was the endless repetition of “My fault. It’s my fault.”

Even when you screwed your eyes shut in the hopes that the loss of one sense would erase them all, it couldn’t stop the unbidden image of Namjoon falling as he screamed in pain. Nothing could uninstall that frame of mind you had when you thought that you were going to lose him forever. You were afraid like you hadn’t ever been.

You’d never had a need to be afraid for another person, because you’d never had any people you loved more than yourself.

You didn’t want to be in this world if Namjoon wasn’t; you didn’t want to imagine a life without him in it.

In that moment, your body went lax, a chuckle escaping you as the tears burst past the gaps in your eyelashes. You had to give up to move on. You had to give up because there wasn’t any way you could lie to yourself any longer.

You loved Kim Namjoon. More than you’ve ever loved anyone, more than you think you’d ever love anyone else.

He wouldn’t understand the sentiment, he wouldn’t reciprocate in the way you wanted him to, but it was better to have what you could than nothing at all, right? He cared for you, and that was enough—that had to be enough.

With a heavy sigh, you peeled open your eyes, tilting your head back to the spot where you knew Namjoon would be.

However, you didn’t expect to meet the intensity of his golden gaze in that exact moment. You didn’t expect him to be awake, one eyebrow raised at you as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of an injured man coherent.

“What is so funny?” He murmured, his tone shifting the moment he caught the quick sight flash of a tear kamikaze-ing down your cheek. “Why are your eyes wet?”

You let out a bark of laughter, unable to help the sudden onslaught of fresh tears running wild. “It’s called crying, stupid.”

“But why?”

You loved him. You loved him so much.

Your eyes met his once more and you shook your head, your lips twisting into a sad version of a smile. “I don’t even know anymore.”

Letting your extremely unhelpful answer slide for the moment, his eyes flit across your features to linger heavily on the bruising evident from the blown out collar of your shirt—his piercing stare especially zeroed in on the blood seeping through the fresh bandages on your hands.

You could sense his hatred and anger without him ever uttering the words; you could taste it in the air as it soured on the back of your tongue.  All he had to do was look at you for you to know what he was thinking.

Was it the same for him?

You rested your chin in the palm of your hand in an attempt to hide some of the damage from his probing stare. “I’m fine, honestly. You…” you took in a sharp breath. “You almost weren’t.”

He sunk his head back into the pillow underneath him, however his gaze never wavered from you. “Humans are more fragile than I will ever be—you were also almost not fine.”

“Perhaps. But at least I didn’t have artery exposure to a substance I’m deathly allergic to.” You murmured, raising one eyebrow back at him.

He pursed his lips at you, an ever present crease gathering between his brows. “Touché.”

There was a brief moment where it was just the two of you, meeting each other’s stare. Naturally, you had to be the one to look away first, finding solace in the way your hand curled around the fabric of your jeans. It was easier than trying to decipher what that glimmer in his gaze meant.  

However, this time he was the one to break the silence first. “I’m sorry that I did not tell you what we were going out to do.”

You shrugged. “I want to say its fine, that I am overly emotional about a lot of things for no reason. But it’s not.”

He nodded. “It is not my intention to exclude you from these happenstances; however I value your life over your temporary satisfaction.”

“Will this be a long-term issue?”

“I hope to clear this mess as quickly as possible, as Jisung has decided to make himself far more annoying than initially planned.”

You bit your lip, your fingers kneading into the sore flesh of your thigh through the fabric. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? All of this. You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me.”

“Y/N, while it is true I may not have been a clan leader if it weren’t for your existence, I would still find myself in a similar predicament. We want to protect our mates.”

“You were born to be a clan leader.”

His eyes sparked with something you couldn’t yet name and you didn’t dwell on it for fear of your thoughts leaking into his. “I appreciate the compliment. I would appreciate it even more if you quit blaming yourself for the results of Jisung’s confrontation. This is not your fault—my injury is not your fault.”

“The tracking device is in me, it is my fault.”

He let out a long-winded sigh. “Is that what this is about? Something that the humans did to you? Do you now blame yourself for their faults as well? What they do to me, what they have done to you, is also not your fault.”

“But—“

“Y/N.” He slowly extended one hand out towards your chair, his fingers long and inviting—they looked like they might be real nice to lace through yours. “Come here.”

You didn’t move despite the fact that there was a tantalizing offer on the table, instead, you swallowed and forced yourself to face him with all of your mouse bravery. “I thought I was going to lose you from this. I thought that this was it, that I wasn’t going to see you alive anymore because of this stupid device. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if…if…if…”

“If I died?” That damn eyebrow of his was at it again, incredulously raised just to mock you.

You gulped despite the fact that your mouth was dry. “Yes.”

His eyes were warm, warm in the same way that protected you years ago, warm in the way that engulfed you while attacking Jisung, warm in the way that only Kim Namjoon could be. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon; death is improbable because I have you.”

You felt your face heat up like a kettle on the stove, slowly seeping up your neck until the tips of your ears were burning. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you embarrassed, but his words hit too suddenly for you to recover quickly.

“Besides, we now have matching scars.” He gestured to his bandaged and immobile shoulder before going back to offering you that extended hand.

Like the shittiest matching couple’s outfits.

“I would equate it more to couple’s tattoos—I saw those in one of those mating movies.”

You shook your head, too tired to correct his entire being in the moment. “That’s a curse, not a sign of affection—don’t you know those always end horribly?”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, will you just take my hand?”

“You need to sleep.” You whispered, despite the fact that your fingers were already reaching out to brush across his.

It took little to no effort for him to snap his hand around yours, ripping you from the sheltered safety of the chair and into his side as if that was the place you belonged. However, you could see a sheen of sweat break out across his skin from the effort exerted to move you like a ragdoll.

“You’re going to hurt yourself further! You’re still healing!” You snapped, though it had no bite with the heat emanating from your tomato cheeks at the close proximity to his face. You were absolutely, 100% sure that he could feel the way your heart jack-hammered against your sternum.

“Well you weren’t making it easy, so I had to do something.” He mumbled like a kicked puppy, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders to keep you pinned to him. “Besides, you’re warm in the way I like. You are a natural healing agent.”

“Stop saying embarrassing stuff!”

“But I like the way it makes your face turn different shades of burnt.”

“You’re lucky I don’t want to hit you because you’re injured!”

But he only laughed, the sound vibrating through your bones. “I am, aren’t I?”

You buried your face into his good shoulder so he could no longer get the satisfaction of flustering you with his being. “Stop watching romance movies—you’re getting cheesy.”

“What’s cheese?”

You groaned, reaching up to cover his eyes with your hand. “Just go to sleep already, would you?”

~.~

“You’re going to have to feed if you’re going to have any hope of getting off of that bed.” Yoongi’s glare was unrelenting; his arms crossed and frown permanently creased into his features. However, it appeared that Namjoon was otherwise distracted, his attention solely focused on you and Seokjin as he assessed your injuries. “Yah! Are you even listening?”

“No.” Both you and Namjoon spoke at the same time, much to your scowl and his shit-eating grin.

“He’s too busy focused on the person who’s been able to walk around and move just fucking fine this past week while he’s still bed-ridden and glued to a mattress.” You grumbled under your breath, wincing as Seokjin slipped a needle under your skin.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked instead of answering either you or Yoongi’s retorts.

“I’m giving her something to help with the swelling.” Seokjin murmured. “However, perhaps you should take the advice of your colleague and your mate and focus on yourself in the meantime.” He hit a particularly sore spot, whispering apologies as you pressed your lips into a line to unsuccessfully disguise the grunt of pain.

“I want to know what it is. I want to know how to help her—I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”

Dead puppies dead puppies. Daisies. Dogs. You missed dogs. It’d been a long time since you’d seen a dog.

You focused your ADHD thoughts on literally anything but the fact that you were relying on Seokjin for far more than making you better—you were relying on him for a secret that, if Namjoon were to catch, the two of you would be screwed. Well, maybe not you, but boy would you be pissed if you couldn’t get this fucking thing out of you. And you kinda sorta liked Seokjin enough that you really didn’t want to see him without a head.

“That is a concern for later, Joon. You can’t learn when you’re getting a fever from lack of food.”

It was almost cute how Namjoon pouted at the rejection. It was kind of cute how he wanted to be the one to be by your side always if it wasn’t for the fact that you were a strong independent woman who---

Who were you kidding, it was hella cute. You felt like a romance novel heroine living up the dream with her hot vampiric mate.

Well, if it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t the least bit the heroine that anyone would write about.

“Besides, she’ll be fine. She’s surprisingly durable for a human.”

Namjoon scoffed. “You hadn’t seen her the first time.”

“I can imagine based on the state of the second time.”

“Hey.” You waved your hands in the air like an idiot, smacking Seokjin extra if only because you couldn’t do the same to Namjoon. “I’m still here guys.”

Seokjin only chuckled. “For now. Make another mistake and you might not be. You have to be more careful.”

“Yeah yeah.” You groaned, even though everyone in the room could fully tell that you had absolutely no intention of doing just that as long as Namjoon’s life was on the line. Well, Seokjin especially—what with the time for your plan coming quicker than either of you were properly prepared for.

“So are you going to feed or what?” Yoongi snapped, causing you to hide a burst of laughter behind your hand.

Namjoon glared at the elder. “If you carry me. I am not about to expose her to that.”

So you become a toddler when you are bed-ridden and can’t move.

“I heard that.” He snapped.

“You were meant to.” You chuckled, sticking out your tongue until Seokjin tested your reflexes by slapping his hand against your knee, causing you to let out a quick yelp that had everyone in the room laughing.

~.~

He was basking in the afterglow of his meal, and despite the fact that he probably just killed a human, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. He looked the healthiest he’d been in days; it was amazing what the required nutrients could do to a being.

“Shouldn’t you be scared?” He murmured as you wiped a rag down his face to clean up the blood splattered there. It wasn’t his, that much you knew.

“Probably.” You murmured, tilting his head to the side to gain access to his neck. Somehow he even managed to get it along his collar bones. There was a big part of you that knew you should have thought about the person behind the blood, the person whose fear made this vampire so healthy—the person who’s life had to end for his to continue. But, with no body and your worry otherwise focused on Namjoon’s healing, you felt more like a mother cleaning up a toddler who just shoved their face in chocolate cake. “But there are sacrifices for everything, aren’t there?”

“There are. But am I worth those human lives?”

You wanted to tell him yes, to say that he was far more important than any of those lives—but that was selfish of you and that was your heart talking over your mind. So instead, you remained silent and let the quiet in the air force you to choose your words carefully.

“Did you…did you kill them?”

“I did today.” He murmured, refusing to meet your gaze. “Does that upset you?”

You dried his face with the clean cloth, shrugging. “Not as much as it should. From what I understand, you’re a picky eater.” And it was the honest truth; you were surprisingly okay for it for someone who literally puked the last time she even thought about a dead body.

He snorted, his eyes glued somewhere towards the wall. “I don’t usually.” He whispered, almost as if he was afraid of your answer. “I don’t usually kill them—humans at least. Hunters are different, but the ones that are brought in from the enclaves I don’t like to destroy.”

“You have to keep them around as a food source. Right?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I just feel…they were left behind by their own people. They were sacrificed for their own kind—it’s not right to me to take what little they have left from them.”

“You pity them?”

“I suppose I do.”

You sat back on your heels, staring at the side of his face if only because he wouldn’t meet you head on. It was one of the rare occasions where it appeared that the most fearsome clan leader in all of the continent seemed afraid himself.

It was quiet, if only because you knew he had more to say—more to get off his chest. So you waited until he turned to face you, to ask you the question burning at the back of his throat.

“Do you hate me for it?”

“For killing?”

He nodded and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “I have never seen you like this before. What made you show this side of yourself to me?”

“You make me question my entire existence Y/N. I don’t know humans; I don’t understand how they think. I prefer your smile to your face when it lets loose water—“

“When I cry.” You murmured stupidly.

“When you cry, yes. I dread your fear more for your sake than my own.  When I picked you up off the street so long ago and brought you back here, I thought I could handle it if you despised me. But now, I don’t think that I could.”

It took your breath away, how honest he was. He was always honest, albeit grumpy and sometimes irritating. But he could say these things to your face; he never hid his feelings from you—his thoughts and his worries. That was more than you could have said for yourself. How did you come to deserve someone like him when you were so….flawed?

“I don’t hate you for being what you are. I’m not afraid of you for killing.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, trying to find the right words in the hodgepodge whirlwind running through your mind. “I mean, I don’t want to see you feed. I don’t want to watch you kill because I have the spine of a coward and I would probably be afraid in that moment. But of you? Never. Not anymore. Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon you are my…. My….”

“Mate?” He whispered, his eyes searching your face as if it had the answers to questions he had yet to ask.

You shook your head. “Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon, I am yours.”

You couldn’t say he was yours, you didn’t own him. He was the leader of a clan; he was the property of many peoples. He couldn’t give you all of himself like you could give to him. He couldn’t give you the love you wanted, but you could give him yours. It was the truth, a double edged sword that both healed and hurt you at the same time. But that was what it was like to love someone like Kim Namjoon.

And if that was the most you could have then you would run with it until the end of the world.

He cocked his head at you, still trying to decipher the meaning behind your stance. “You told me you were not property.”

You let your shoulders slump, a horrible groan ripping from your throat as you fought back the redness of your ears with every fiber of your being. “For the love of God, you are the densest fucking vampire ever.”

“I don’t understand.”

You snorted. “I know, but that’s okay for now. For now, you have to get better so you can get that pea brain of yours working properly.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, enjoying the way that your laughter enticed his own.

~.~

“Namjoon?” You murmured to the quiet of the room, carefully watching the even rise and falls of his chest. “You awake?”

It was a whisper, but you knew, if he were conscious, he would hear it. Recovery had been hard on him; it was a slow process that took time and effort. But, you felt that he was just now beginning to get to a place where you could be positive that he would be fine. You needed him to be fine before you did this. You needed him to be fine but immobile—because then he couldn’t stop you. This was prime timing for what you were about to do, for the crazy decision your idiot ass was about to make. You knew if you didn’t gun for it now, you would never get a chance like this again.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly, ever so slowly, shifted towards the edge of bed.

Carefully, watching his every waking breath and move, you peeled yourself from the bed without so much as a squeak from the loudest mattress springs on planet earth.

Padding to the door like a kid trying not to wake their mom after curfew, you gave him one last parting glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be back.” You nodded to him as if he could actually hear you--as if that could still the rapid thumping of your heart in your chest. You swore you could feel the beat in your throat.

It was a lie that you wanted to believe. You didn’t know if you’d be back, you didn’t know what was going to happen in the span of a few hours. Maybe you wouldn’t be, but you had to have hope if you wanted your feet to move out into that hallway.

With the door closed gingerly behind you, you took a moment to stare at the wood. It was imperative that you gained your resolve once more before continuing onward.

This was for him; this was to prevent incidents like this. You didn’t want to be to blame if they humans came again, you didn’t want to be the cause of his death. You were absolutely positive that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all a second time.

Seokjin was already standing outside the door, quietly waiting for you to meet his gaze. You could feel the heat of him by your side. Patient but ready.

You were thankful for him now more than ever.

Without a word, you nodded to him and the two of you set off outside.

~.~

You busied yourself by playing with the scalpel on the table next to you instead of focusing on the bright ring lights, on the metal table under your ass and the button up shirt you wore for easier access to your chest. You tried to not think about the fact that soon your organs would be exposed to the air in the shed--hat soon you would be either dead or better for it. But, well, that pretending was becoming increasingly harder to do.

“You did a real good job cleaning this place up, Jin.”

“I can taste your fear, Y/N. There’s no point in hiding it now.” He murmured, his back turned to you as he thoroughly scrubbed at his hands. “But thank you. I had to make sure it would be a proper place to do this.”

“You even fixed the floorboards—I didn’t figure you one for carpentry.”

He chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I suppose.” You could see yourself in the polished metal, how haggard your face was, how your expressions belittled your resolve. “If I really start to get afraid, you won’t kill me, right?” It was a horrible squeak that made you hate your rabbit tendencies all the more.

“I won’t. I have far more restraint at a mere human’s fear.” He chuckled. “Yours included.”

“That’s the first time that ‘mere human’ feels like a comforting phrase coming from a vampire.”

He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have to do this now, Y/N. We don’t have to do this at all. There are other options—other—“

“No.” You shook your head, setting the scalpel down as Seokjin grabbed a pair of latex gloves he had set by the sink. “We’ve come too far and done too much. We’re doing this.”

“Are you sure?”

“100%” You smiled, though it felt more grimace than smile. It seemed to work for Seokjin, if only because you bet he knew by know that you were stubborn and scared and jumped into things head-on without thinking. If you decided that this was what you were going to do, then he had no power to stop you.

He started towards you, towards the little table he’d procured for his medical supplies. His fingers ghosted over the anesthetic he chose—an oral one, since the last thing he needed was further fear attracting others to you. Needles were a hard pass in a compound full of vampires who could taste fear in the air.

He lifted the prepared cup, handing it over to you.

You, for your part, were surprisingly calm as you started down at the liquid—translucent red, like a punch or a fruity drink. It most definitely was not, but one could pretend.

“Don’t make this be the last time I see your face, okay?” Your voice was weak despite the smile in your statement. “And Namjoon…if he—“

“You’re coming back, Y/N.” Seokjin murmured. “I won’t let you die on this table.”

“I know.” You smiled, heaving out the deepest of sighs from your chest. “I think I just wanted to hear you say it.” You swallowed your own spit, raising your little plastic cup to the air. “Cheers.”

And then it was sliding down your throat, calm and cool and oh-so-fucking terrible tasting. It was like they tried to flavor it with cherry to make it easier but artificial cherry tasted like shit. You remembered when you were seven and your mom bought a bag of cherries from the grocery store to try. You remembered her laugh at your face as you realized the medicine you grew up on was a huge lie to the reality of the sweet fruit.

You didn’t know why you were remembering her now.

You wondered if she still thought of you. If you died, would she ever know?

“It’ll take a few minutes to sink in.” Seokjin murmured, his hands gently pushing you back onto the table. “So relax.”

“Okay.” You whispered more to yourself than to him, shaking off the bitter taste in the back of your throat. “Okay.”

It was silent for a moment. That one quick moment of peace. It was refreshing; it was the calm before a shitstorm large enough to tear you in two.

In the span of a few seconds, the table you were on was suddenly knocked over, sending you careening to the floor in a pile of limbs and confusion. In your out-of-body experience, you could hear Seokjin shouting something that you couldn’t make out. You had to squint to even see him past the sudden, blaring reality that you were on the ground.

Apparently, his shouting was directing you to “for the love of god move!” considering he was landing a punch on a freshly teleported Freckles.

It was horrible and gut-wrenching to know that the reason your head was fuzzy was the due to the anesthetic you could still feel coating your throat and that you had about five minutes before you would be gone to the world.

In the chaos and the crushing realization that you would be of zero help, you found that you couldn’t even make a noise.

“J-Jin!” Your voice was soft to your own disoriented ears as you struggled to your feet. “Jin!” It, unfortunately, wasn’t getting any louder with your increased effort.

“Get out of here, Y/N!”

You frowned, brow furrowed as you took one step, then two lurching ones towards the door—you had to get help. You had to do something for Seokjin, somehow—you had to get someone better than the ticking time bomb that was you.

However, your efforts were thwarted almost instantly by the arm that looped around your waist, yanking you back into the enemy vampire’s chest.

“Oh no you don’t.” Theulgiestvampireever hissed.

You thrashed as much as you could, but your body felt five times heavier than it should have and your attempts amounted to absolutely nothing.

With a forceful kick, Freckles knocked Seokjin backwards and to the ground, blood dripping down both of their foreheads. Seokjin looked up at you through the leaking injury running past his eye, his hand enclosing around your ankle in one last, desperate effort to save you.

“Y/N!”

You couldn’t see Freckles’ evil grin, or the look on his face or the way his leg lifted to deliver a final crushing blow. But you did hear his chuckle next to your ear; you did hear the snap of bone as his heel crashed down onto Seokjin’s hand. You didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s head snapped back dangerously when met by the force of Freckle’s knee.

You screamed even though no sound came out.

I’m sorry Namjoon. You thought before reality shifted around you, breaking you into that nauseating place between worlds. The moment, thankfully, only lasted a few long seconds before you were launched into a heap outside of the fencing of Namjoon’s compound.

You gasped for breath, trying to help yourself to your feet to no avail. Your body was now too heavy for you to move it of your own accord and, when you tilted your head to the night sky, you realized that you couldn’t even feel the asphalt digging into the skin of your palms.

The world blurred around you, despite every effort to keep it in focus.

“Now who’s pathetic?” You hated the sound of his voice, hated that it haunted your nightmares and made you fear for Namjoon’s life. He bent down to your form to pick you up as if you were empty, as if you were nothing more than a slightly weighted bag to sling over his shoulder.

“You ready to meet a god, Y/N?” Jisung chuckled.

You grasped for anything to keep you tethered to your surroundings, fists weakly hitting his back. But, it was useless. It was all so useless. Before you could stop it, you were tumbling into unconsciousness.

~.~

When you finally came to, you had a pounding headache and found that were suddenly unable to move at all.

Well, for one, it was hard to move when your body was still stiff from however long you were out cold. Secondly, it really didn’t help that your arms were twisted behind you and bound by zip ties so tight you felt them cutting off circulation. Your legs didn’t fare any better, considering they were each bound to the front legs of the hard, metal chair you found yourself on.

With a groan to the ceiling, you tilted your head to scan your surroundings and get a better grasp of the reality of the situation you were in. If it weren’t for the fact that your brain wasn’t fully awake, you probably would have split in half from the force of your fear.

The room you were in was dilapidated and fading, however, you came to the conclusion that it was once used for education. Desks were piled in a corner, a broken chalkboard littering the floor to your left with bits of crushed chalk and dust. However, the second you fully awoke, you found that you couldn’t get a good look at much else because your attention was immediately drawn to the table set up next to you. Sitting atop of it was a laptop screen, plugged in via extension cord and a surprisingly quiet generator. Jisung sat smugly next to the laptop, lips twisted in a grin that would put nightmare shadows to shame.

But you were too glued to the sight of Namjoon’s face in the video feed provided by the laptop to care about much else.

He was sitting upright in his bedroom. He must be at the vanity. You thought, stupidly.

He, for obvious reasons, was not as happy to see your face as you were to see his.

“Ah! See that Joonie? Looks like she’s coming to.” Jisung chuckled, hopping off of the desk to take slow, predatory strides towards you. You briefly wondered just how long he had been sitting there, watching you and babbling nonsense to Namjoon.

You were still too groggy to feel too much fear at the action. Rather, you met Namjoon’s gaze through the screen and grimaced.

“Shit.” Was the first, creative, intelligent, and breathtaking thing to come out of your mouth.

“Shit indeed.” Jisung laughed, like a fucking clown from a horror movie you once watched with your best friend back behind the walls of the human world. Before you could react, Jisung’s hand was in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat to the coolness of the room.

“Let go of her.” Namjoon growled; the sound was low and scary even to your half-conscious brain. You could see the muscles in his arm flex, his lip curled in a snarl. It would have been attractive were you not in a predicament that had you wanting to shit your pants.

Jisung inhaled, and, even from your awkward angle, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a fresh feed. “Her fear is so fucking good.”

You quickly gathered that this was all just a pissing contest, a power move to bring Namjoon down.  All you would ever be was a pawn, a toy to lure him out. Granted, you, on your own weren’t worth much, but it still sickened you to know that it was about all you would be good for. Vampire or human, it didn’t matter. They just wanted you to kill him—and by gods if you were just going to let it happen.

“Let’s play that game we talked about while she was sleeping, okay Joonie?” The nickname sounded absolutely disgusting coming from Jisung’s mouth. If you could, you would have slapped him yourself (and probably instantly regretted it, but you were always more of a do now think later kind of girl).

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What game?” You whispered, your breath hitching as Jisung let go of you far too violently for your own taste, travelling somewhere just behind you. You hated how his eyes glowed from your fear once more, your body shivering at the sudden awareness of the temperature of the room around you.  “Namjoon—what game?” You looked to him for guidance, but his eyes were cold and rimmed with dark circles. How long was he sitting there, watching you sleep through a screen? “Why are you making him watch this?” You whispered.

Jisung, however, did not have the care for his volume as you did for yours. “Because, dear Y/N, there is no point in torture if it doesn’t rile him up. Pictures would have sufficed but, I am a reaction man. I gotta see his face as it happens, live.” By the time he was finished, the last word were hissed into the shell of your ear. Brought with the enemy vampire, was a blade so big it could have covered your whole face. Jisung twisted it, his gaze never leaving Namjoon’s.

[imreallystressed]

nothing is okay /j (pt. 3)

word count: ~2,200 pairings: it’s literally just platonic (obviously) creativitwins, some angst some comfort warnings: angst angst angst, with the comfort being a slightly-more-cathartic-than-usual-bandaid. roman and remus both have what amount to identity crises. buildings falling apart? mention of puking. general creepy language (both in the remus way and like horror-esque). swearing! notes: oh boy. i’d say i’m sorry but i know exactly what i’m doing. my favorite part is literally just “whimsy-twinsy”, which should surprise no one!! also apologies for procrastinating this for so long!!! first! - prev! - next! AO3 LINK

Roman was fairly sure he was going to pass out. He probably could’ve communicated this to Remus, who was definitely talking to him, but he couldn’t actually hear anything over the blood pounding in his head. 

He suddenly wished fervently that he hadn’t closed the door behind him. Or agreed to this. Or gotten out of bed at all.

“Roman, for fuck’s sake, are you even conscious?” Remus shouted, loudly enough to snap Roman out of his trance.

“Uh- yeah, yeah! What’s up?” Roman said. Remus raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “I didn’t believe that one either.”

“What the fuck did you do? Honestly, if this was on purpose, I’m impressed, but judging by the fact that you just went catatonic as a dead rat I’m going to have to assume this was a mistake.”

“Can we just go?” Roman snapped, yanking his hand from Remus and forcing himself to face the landscape before him. His beautiful rolling hills, filled with secrets from his subconscious and little reminders of Thomas’ life were gone, replaced with a forest that ached of too many thunderstorms and loneliness. The trees were hunched over the path like they were ready to reach out and grab whichever unlucky traveler dared head through the woods.

Roman steadied himself, which basically meant firmly shoving his racing heart to the back of his mind and starting down the path. Remus followed, uncharacteristically silent.

The further they got in the suffocating atmosphere, the more off-balance Roman felt. The forest really did feel like it was pulling at them, vines unfurling in his face and weeds curling around his boots. Every ounce of the environment screamed unstable, it felt like some kind of apocalypse had once flattened it.

Roman wished Remus would just say something, anything, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood, walking a few steps behind Roman and keeping his head down, glowering through his bangs.

He was fully aware his breathing was far too erratic for a stroll in the woods, and immediately felt a pang of guilt as he wondered if it was affecting Thomas. That train of thought lead him directly to Virgil, and then he had the fleeting thought that maybe it was Virgil’s panic affecting him.

He looked up and saw some kind of eyeless creature watching them through the branches, and there went that thought.

Roman danced through old daydreams in his head, trying to settle on something to think of other than the possibly perilous danger he was in, but after fifteen minutes of failing every idea he thought of, he gave up.

This was conveniently when they came to a crossroads and he was forced to pause. Remus stood beside him, the maybe-six-inches between them like a gaping chasm.

“Do you remember the way?” Roman asked quietly.

“I haven’t been since... yeah,” Remus trailed off, peering around the corner. “You’d know better.”

“You think I’ve been since then?”

Remus looked up at him with a hint of shock in his eyes, and Roman’s heart ached. “You haven’t?”

“What, you think I enjoy literally and empathetically lo-jacking my friends every day?” Roman asked. He’d intended for it to come out jokingly, but the tremble in his voice dashed that dream instantly. Remus gave him an incredulous look.

“You could know everyone’s deepest secrets.”

“I don’t want to know everyone’s deepest secrets!” Roman said, equal parts upset and offended that Remus would think he’d spy on them like that.

Remus turned away, looking down the path to their right, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, then I guess we just have to try each one, right?”

“What if the path doesn’t even lead to the fountain?” Roman blurted, before he could stop himself. “What if this is all some wild goose chase?”

“Geese are pretty fun!”

Roman smacked Remus gently on the shoulder. “I mean it.”

“I know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“You of all people should know that that doesn’t work,” Roman said, trying for levity and falling somewhere between ‘miserable’ and ‘actually offensive’.

Remus frowned at him. “You sound like Logan.”

Roman blinked. “Oh my god, I do. What’s happening to me? Is this the mom instinct?”

Remus began cackling, and Roman started giggling a little deliriously.

“And stop with the what ifs. That’s Virgil’s thing. The fact that you’re even saying that means we’re almost certainly on the right path. Now c’mon, we’re racing. Last one there has to suck a horse dick!”

“No-”

Roman did actually beat Remus there, who seemed far too comfortable with his fate, and both turned to look at the scene before them.

Roman’s heart dropped a little further.

“That’s - well. At least that’s it, right?” Remus said, his voice pointedly cheery. Roman nodded woodenly, staring at the entrance. He could already feel his hands start to shake.

“That’s it.”

“You did a good job sealing it.”

“I guess.”

“Real fucking helpful now,” Remus said, and Roman snorted. Careless of the wild plants, many covered in menacing thorns, Remus stalked forward to the entrance and heaved one of the rocks to the side, creating an opening big enough for them to get through.

Remus didn’t hesitate a second to dive through, and his awed “woah” echoed back to Roman.

He picked his way across the plant life, and crawled through the hole, significantly less elegantly than he meant to, and stood beside his twin.

The inside of the spring was covered in plant life, and the air hung humid enough to make breathing just a touch more difficult than it needed to be. Remus was looking around like he was thrilled, but Roman felt a clawing sense of dread pooling in his chest.

Some kind of lizard scuttled across a nearby rock, and he shuddered.

“Okay, creepy water time?” Roman said, interrupting their reverie. Remus grinned brightly in his direction and turned to the pool in the center of the cave.

“Be my guest!”

“This is my side of the Imagination.”

“Okay, die then.”

Roman took a step forward, and instantly regretted it.

If he had had an orchestra playing a score for his life, now would have been the time for the violin sting.

The entire cave rumbled to life, vibrating around them. Pebbles began to cascade off the walls and ceiling, throwing clouds of dust as they rained a twisted hail upon the brothers.

Cracks started to web across the ceiling, larger plates of rock collapsing onto the ground, crushing plants and moss and ripping vines as they fell.

“Uh, Rem, I didn’t think you meant that literally-”

“See the thing is that I didn’t, I’m not doing this, which is surprising because I’m me - move!”

Remus dove, slamming Roman to the ground as a massive boulder careened into the spot where he was standing.

And just like that, the earthquake stopped.

Remus shoved himself off of Roman, but Roman caught his shoulder.

“You saved me?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Uh, yeah. The only person- er, rock- who gets to knock out my brother is me.”

Roman fairly beamed in his direction, and Remus shook his head.

“Less sentiment, more sentient! Water!” he griped, gesturing wildly in the direction of the pool.

“Right,” Roman said, and Remus found himself missing the bright smile.

Roman walked heavily over to the water, resigned, and plunged his right hand into the just-a-little-too-blue water, squinting against it and trying to brace for whatever he was about to see.

Turns out that was just water, because nothing happened.

Remus sat beside him, glancing between him and the water expectantly.

“Uh, no offense, but that doesn’t look like Virgil.”

“It’s not working.”

“I can tell. Are you doing something different, or...?”

“I never really knew what I was doing. Oh my god, this was just a waste of time. I was worried about not finding it but we found it and it’s not even going to work because I’m just a fucking failure-”

“Roman,” Remus tried, a little taken aback.

“It doesn’t even matter if I could make it work, even if I can’t, because no matter where he is he won’t even listen to me because no one ever does, and they’re right, they shouldn’t, because everything I say is useless or wrong or-”

“Roman!” Remus yelled, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and yanking his hand out of the water. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I told you! I fucking told you everything, the one correct thing I’m ever going to say-”

“You’re wrong,” Remus interrupted, shaking Roman just a little bit. Roman froze, his glassy eyes staring back at Remus. “You’re wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Roman, you’re wrong,” Remus said, practically clinging at this point. “You’re the good twin. You’re not useless, you’re not wrong. I mean it, Ro.”

Roman blinked at him. “What do you mean by good twin?”

Remus jerked away suddenly, clasping his hands in his lap. “I mean- well- all that stuff you said. It’s - that stuff doesn’t apply to you. Because you’re the good twin.”

“You’re saying it applies to you.”

Remus stared into the water.

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

“It’s not a big deal. I get it, hell, I’m proud of it. I’m evil.”

“But you’re not,” Roman insisted, trying to make Remus look at him.

“But I am, Roman! That’s my whole thing! People shouldn’t listen to me because it’s my job to not be listened to!” Remus retorted.

“That doesn’t mean you’re evil!”

“Well that doesn’t work, does it? Two twins, good creativity, bad creativity. White and black. Good and evil, Roman.”

“But-”

“We split for a goddamn reason. Now would you just make the fucking water work?”

Remus finally turned, and wished he hadn’t. Roman was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest. His voice hadn’t shown it, but there were tears streaming down his face.

“Roman-”

“Fine.”

Roman plunged both hands into the water, and in the ripples Remus could almost see it, so close to their goal - but there was nothing there. It was just water.

Roman pulled his hands from the spring, set his head on the rim, and sobbed.

“We’ll- it’s fine. We’ll find Virgil the old fashioned way.”

“If he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t,” Roman said miserably, and Remus took a moment to be extremely offended that he was right.

Remus sighed. “Look at us. Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs.”

Roman’s head shot up, and he whirled to face Remus.

“Say that again,” he said, and his voice bordered on manic but he was starting to smile, so Remus repeated himself.

“Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs?”

“That’s it, oh my god, Rem, you’re a genius, why don’t I listen to you more often-”

“Slow down, whimsy-twinsy! What’s this genius idea I apparently came up with?”

“It’s just like Janus said-”

“Wait, what?”

“-we’re nuanced now, but we weren’t back then. So the spring is powered by quote-unquote ‘good’ creativity, but since we’re not black and white anymore, we need both of us to power it.”

“You lost me at nuanced.”

“Rem. Come on!” Roman begged, holding out his hand.

“You’re nuanced, I’m not, it’s not gonna work.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and can’t we at least try?”

Remus was about three seconds from either standing up and running or straight up puking at the obvious emotional display happening, but Roman looked genuinely pleading and well, Remus wasn’t going to examine his motivations any further than that.

“Fine,” he said, taking Roman’s hand and pretending he didn’t blanch at the answering smile he got.

Roman tugged their hands into the spring.

“Okay, now do I imagine plum fairies and sweet little birds?”

“No, dumbass, you think of Virgil.”

“Oh. Right.”

Remus wrinkled his nose and tried his best to think of positive memories of Virgil, which worked up until a certain age, but Remus had a very good memory, so it wasn’t a problem staying before then.

Achingly slowly, colour began to spread from their hands, and the pool reflected an image of Virgil, pacing back and forth somewhere Remus didn’t recognize.

“Uh, where is that?” Remus asked, glancing at Roman.

“I... don’t know.”

“Can we like, pan around?”

“I don’t know if it works like that,” Roman said, but it apparently wasn’t necessary, because Virgil chose that moment to walk in the opposite direction.

Their view shifted, and Remus felt his heart sink.

“He’s in the otherscape.”

“What?”

“The dark side, basically. Like your mindscape but... y’know. Ours. Er, mine.”

“Huh?” Roman said, puzzled. “Why would Virgil go there?”

“I’m more interested in the how. You light sides can’t rise up into it, and the door disappeared after Virgil left.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain more on the way back. We’ve gotta get the others, because I am not breaking into my own house without everyone there.”

“You’d break into your own house any day. You just like breaking into places.”

“Yeah, well. Usually I do it for more fun reasons.”

Roman sighed, squeezing Remus’ hand, and they both took off running.

Behind them, the pool began to drain.

( taglist [which i have now apparently?? tysm :7!!]: @glitchybina )