#dunno why I placed each au away from each other

[solunest]

.....is anyone there? Everyone...asleep? Forgetful?

Good.

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: AU where the Reader is Isagi's older sibling and she came to watch him play during the U-20 game. She is the same age as Sae, btw. Let me know if u want a pt2

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"I am almost there! Yeah... the game already started?!" (Y/n) stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath as she talked with her mom on the phone.

"Yes, Yo-chan seems to be handling himself very well on the field. But why are you late? I thought you said your exam will only last an hour." The worried Iyo asked from the other side as (Y/n) started running down the street again.

"It was only an hour long. But I completely forgot Yoichi's jersey in my dorm room, and I promised I would wear it." (Y/n) said, smiling down at the blue jersey she was wearing at the moment.

"Ohh... you really can be forgetful at times." Iyo laughed as loud cheers erupted from her side.

"Did something happen?!" (Y/n) asked.

"Did Yoichi score?!"

"Well, someone from his team just scored." Iyo said, causing (Y/n) to sigh in relief.

"Good! I didn't miss his score then... I will be there in a bit! Don't worry!" (Y/n) said and ended the call, sprinting down the street towards the stadium.

'I won't miss is! I swear, Yoichi! I won't miss your score!' She thought to herself.

Once at the stadium, (Y/n) gave the staff her ticket to check it, then ran towards the direction she was instructed to, making sure to avoid the people in the hallway.

'Agh! Where are mom and dad?!' (Y/n) thought as she finally entered the fully packed stadium, but couldn't find her parents anywhere. She looked around nervously, and texted her mom to let her know she had arrived, then looked down at the filed, gripping tightly on the railing as she saw the results on the display.

'3-3?! This can't be for real?! And there isn't much time left either... Yoichi...' She looked down nervously at her younger brother, gripping on the jersey as she noted his exhausted expression. Upon further inspection, the whole Blue Lock team looked pretty distraught and defeated. And while the U-20 team was in a similar condition, they seemed to be in a better head space.

'Yoichi... the World Cup win is your dream, you can't let it go like that... You said you want to become like your idol Noa... And I won't let you miss the opportunity.' She glared at the Blue Lock team, who was arguing among each other and Isagi was just standing to the side. Taking a deep breath, she was greatful for a moment that the place she was at, was located closer to the field.

"ISAGI YOICHI, GET YOUR HEAD INTO THE GAME!!!" (Y/n) yelled, causing a couple, tat was standing next to her, to jump in fright.

The said boy's eyes widened as he heard his sister's voice, and turned to look in her direction.

'Big sis...' Yoichi thought as the rest of his team jumped in surprise.

"The hell?!" Barou and Karasu yelled in shock.

"I SWEAR, IF YOU LET THIS OPPORTUNITY SLIP AWAY! I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!" (Y/n) yelled, her face turning red as Yoichi stared at her in shock for a moment, then his expression softened into a smile.

"Who is that?" Yukimiya wondered, finally spotting the girl.

"Dunno... but she is quite a cutey." Bachira commented.

"Is that a girlfriend of yours, Isagi?" Reo raised an eyebrow as Nagi just sat on the grass, eyeing the girl too.

"GET TOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER AND PLAY! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SO NERVOUS ABOUT?! THE TELEVISION CREW?! THOSE OLD HAGS FROM THE JFU?! THE U-20 TEAM?! DON'T PISS ME OFF, AND PLAY!!" (Y/n) finished her yelling as a few tears escaped her eyes, and she stared at her brother with a soft glare. Yoichi was quiet for a moment, then grinned at his sister and sent her a thumbs up, then looked back at his stunned team.

"Well, let's finish this. You heard her, I can't let this opportunity slip away."

The rest of the team stared at Isagi in disbelief, he even received questioning looks from Niko, Chigiri, Otoya, Ego, and Anri from the benches.

"Who... who is she?" Hiori spoke up first.

"Oh that... that's my older sister. She is pretty passionate when it comes to me playing. Even more than I am." Isagi chuckled, smiling fondly as he said the last part. This caused him to get various reactions from the team. Bachira and Hiori were pretty much dumbfounded, Aryu and Reo were sending odd looks towards the girl and then towards Yoichi. Barou tried to act disinterested, Rin glared at the ace, a little jealous when he heard that part.

'Why isn't my brother like that anymore?'

Nagi stared lazily at Isagi, also confused over the whole revelation.

'With how Isagi acts, I really thought je was the older sibling.' The albino wondered. Meanwhile Yukimiya and Karasu went towards Yoichi, both putting their arms on each of his shoulders.

"Yoichi, my friend, my man." Karasu started.

"What?" The boy asked, surprised that he addressed him with his 1st name.

"So your sis... does she have anyone in her life?" The crow-boy asked.

"No... why?" Yoichi asked, eyeing Karasu suspiciously.

"Would she want a handsome, intelligent football player then-"

"Or a charismatic, talented model-"

"As her boyfriend?" The duo finished, causing Yoichi to frown at them.

"Stay away from my sister, you two." Yoichi warned.

"Shut up, let's finish this stupid game." Rin warned them, turning to glare at his brother who was dealing with Shidou's shenanigans.

After she finally calmed down a little, (Y/n) felt her face turn a dark shade of red as she realized what she did.

'This is so embarrassing!! Now everyone internationally saw me act like a fool!' She groaned, covering up her face. For a moment she stayed quiet, feeling eyes on her from the audience.

'But...' She slowly removed her hands, and smiled fondly at her brother's back as the game was resuming from the short break.

'Yoichi is worth it... he has so much potential here. I will remind him, even if I am going to embarrass myself.' (Y/n) thought, wiping a few tears away, for a short moment remembering the times she would sit with a younger Yoichi and watch football with him.

'Become the Noel Noa you always wanted to be.'

"Excuse me." A softer voice interrupted her as she turned to look at the direction it came from, only to find a red haired woman and green haired man lookin at her. They both looked like they were around her mom and dad's age.

"Yes, ma'am?" (Y/n) smiled politely as the woman spoke up nervously.

"This might be a little intrusive, but are you related to one of the players too?"

"Oh... yes, the number 11 and ace of Blue Lock, Isagi Yoichi is my younger brother." (Y/n) smiled proudly as she pointed at her brother.

"That's sweet, how you support him like that. My husband and I are her efor our sons, too."

"Sons?" She wondered, only to receive an answer from the man this time.

"Yeah, the number 10 in Blue Lock, Itoshi Rin and the number 10 in the U-20, Itoshi Sae are our sons." The man smiled warmly as (Y/n) slowly nodded her head.

'Oh to be a fly on the wall in that household once the match ends.' She thought to herself, picking up some small talk while sending constant glances at her brother.

"YOICHI!!!!!! THAT'S MY BROTHER!! THAT'S THE SAME LITTLE BOY I PICKED UP FROM TRAINING!!" (Y/n) cried out in happiness as she pointed at the boy when he scored the winning goal.

'You did it!' She quickly dashed away from the couple and towards the barricades to get to Yoichi, who was getting praises from his teammates and some U-20 members.

"Yoichi!!" (Y/n) yelled as the boy turned away from Oliver and looked at his sister. Yoichi grinned and left his team.

"See! Never doubt me!" Yoichi grinned, pulling his sister into a hug.

"I never doubted you, idiot! I am so glad you scored that goal! It was magnificent!" She sobbed, hugging her brother tightly. As the two siblings were hugging and talking, the rest of Blue Lock's team approached slowly.

"Why were you so late tho? And why were you with mom and dad?" Yoichi asked in worry as he pulled his sister onto the field.

"I was late because I forgot the jersey in my dorm room, and I seemed to have gotten a seat far away from where our parents are." (Y/n) chuckled nervously as Yoichi looked at the jersey, only now noticing it had his number.

"Ah? You went all the way for me?" Yoichi asked, happiness bubbling up inside of him.

"Of course! Remember when we were younger? I promised to wear your jersey for every match." She smiled.

"Ah! You still remember that-"

"Uhh, Isagi~ don't you want to introduce us?" The two Isagi siblings jumped up at Otoya's voice, and (Y/n) looked over at the team in surprise while Yoichi sent them warning glares.

"Big sis, my team. Team, this is my big sis." Yoichi said dryly as (Y/n) smiled at the team nervously, remembering some of the faces from her previous yelling.

"Hello, it's nice to meet Yo-chan's team." She spoked up, the team never once blinking or looking away.

"Sorry for the yelling earlier-"

"No need to apologize!" Karasu spoke up and walked up to her, followed by Otoya and Yukimiya.

"Being yelled at by a pretty lady is a privilege in my books." Yukimiya smiled down at her, causing (Y/n) to internally swoon a little.

'He is so good looking!'

"Feel free to yell at me all you want, too." Otoya added in, grabbing one of her hands.

"Hey! Watch it!" Yoichi yelled, but got pulled away by Bachira and Hiori.

"Up close, your older sister is pretty cute, Isagi." Bachira whispered to his friend.

"Bachira, what the hell man?"

"He is right tho." Hiori defended the bumblebee.

"Is your sis into games?" The blue-haired boy asked.

"Is she into younger guys?" Niko asked Yoichi, sending the girl some nervous looks.

"Niko, she is 18." Yoichi argued.

"Just 3 years."

"Absolutely not." Yoichi glared, trying to get out of Bachira's hold.

"You all are being so weird." Chigiri sighed, walking over to the small group. Yoichi sighed in relief as he heard the redhead's voice.

"Thank you for thinking rationally, Chigiri-"

"We all know I am the only one who has any chance with Isagi's sister. We are both cute." Chigiri finished and flipped his hair.

"Nevermind." Yoichi grumbled and watched as his sister complimented Gagamaru's goalkeeper skills, while Aryu pulled a nervous Tokimitsu to talk to her. Barou was standing next to her, adding in some random sentences.

Yoichi tried to get out of Bachira's hold again, but it was proven futile as the other four, plus Nagi now, started asking him about his sister. Meanwhile Reo took his chance and just went over to talk to her, curious if the older Isagi will be left in awe when she hears his last name.

Meanwhile, Rin was staring at the two Isagi siblings, and then looked back at his brother, jealousy slowly bubbling up inside of him again.

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slow burn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... it's getting real! x

(no y/n)

wc: 3.9k

You raise your leg up the side of her body, and she takes her right arm and hoists that leg up farther, then the other one following with ease. Now your back is against the wall and pulling her in closer with your thighs around her torso. The filthy smacking noises coming from your mouths drove Abby insane and she didn’t care how sloppy she was. The dribbles on your chin and occasionally playfully biting your bottom lip were all her way of communicating how long she waited for this. She pulls away, placing you back on the ground, with a thread of salvia bridging between you, and staring at you drunk off the taste of your mouth. It didn’t shock you how greedy Abby became just now, in fact, it turned you on even more. “You’re so needy.” You twit. 

“Sorry, was that too much.” She steps back wiping her chin. 

“No Abby, it wasn’t. I know how desperate you are.” You wrap your hands around her waist and plant a gentle kiss on her neck. 

“Oh, so it was too much.” She blushed. 

“No,” you peck. “I like this side of you.” 

Abby closed her eyes as your hot mouth pressed against her feverish skin. She gulped her moans towards the back of her throat and pushed out grunts instead with her hands grasping onto the ridges of your top. Your tongue dips down to brush her collarbones, and while you begin to suckle her sweet skin she prays that you won’t stop. 

You trail your hands to her stomach, running your index finger between her skin and the band of her pants. She held her breath as you began to unbutton her slacks, your lips not breaking contact while undoing her zipper. You knew you were as eager as her, but wanted her to beg. Your hand cups her cunt that was glued to her soaked panties and she whimpers as she slams both her hands on the wall behind you. 

“Please.” She whispers. 

Her clit was pressed against the edge of your fingers, engorged and prodding through the fabric. She began to grind attempting to reach for more of your touch. Your lips find each other again but this time you’re taking the lead and unhurried, making her feel every inch of your desire. 

Abby could easily throw you over her shoulder and take you to bed but she doesn’t because her mind is tipsy with disbelief and gratification. “Abby?” 

“Y—yes?” 

You lace your fingers in hers and walk into the bedroom that is flowery with her scent. You didn’t have to imagine anymore, she was right here and waiting for you. She flicks her desk lamp and sits on the bottom of her bed, she watches you close the door, anxiously bouncing her leg. You hadn’t been in her room before, only peered inside but you now noticed the mirror on her closet doors. She rested on her palms and spread her legs open, beckoning you. You straddle her lap and push her hair over her shoulders just before wrapping your hands around her neck and kissing her again. 

“Should I turn the lights off?” She interrupted. 

“Why?”

She glanced at the mirror behind you then back into your eyes. “I dunno.” 

“Just focus on me.” You guide her hands to your ass. 

She bucked her hips upwards, pressing against your cunt. Her mouth found itself leeched onto your neck, sucking the spot under your earlobe without consideration of the aftermath. Abby wasn’t naive, she knew what she was doing, and she wanted Ellie to see her work tomorrow. She trailed down to the peak of your cleavage and tilted you for a better angle. You throw your head back and wince at her teeth pressing into your skin. 

In one swift motion, you were now underneath her with your legs still around her body. She has as a haughty grin on her face as to say, I know… I’m great. She lifts up your top to expose your paper-thin, lace bra. Abby scuffs at how sexy you look right now, your nipples poking through the material, the bite marks on your neck turning, and your body against hers. 

Her palm rests on your right breast and carefully massages it — her palm brushing against your nipple, making it pert. Her eyes were gulping in every detail of your body and the way it reacts to her touch. 

“Wanna taste them?” You invite. 

Abby nods and helps you remove your top and bra making your breast spill out, and the relief felt good but she didn’t hesitate to start sucking. She roughly buried her nose into the fat of your tit and lapped your nipple into her mouth. You pushed her hair back to watch her jaws concave around the bud. Abby’s groans were hoarse and loud exciting you more, but her eyes were shut tight. 

“Look at me.” 

Your demand made her tremble and she complied because she would do anything you said. Her eyes were glazed over with lust as they locked with yours. She felt her stomach flutter from your gaze, but it didn’t stop her from doing her job. Her left hand comes up to your mouth, thumb brushing your lips, waiting for entry, and you comply. She toys your mouth open then sticks her index and middle finger inside your mouth. You latch onto her wide fingers and allow your spit to lather them. After, she brings it to your other nipple and flicks it in rhythm with her tongue. It feels so good and you can’t help but arch your back, begging for more. 

“Abby.” You moan and her pussy tightens. 

Your hands are busy reaching for any part of her so you slide your hand back into her unbuttoned pants and motivate her to take them off. She pulls away from your bruised breasts to stand up quickly and remove them. Before she could take her panties off you drag her back onto the mattress. You sit on your knees between her legs and spreads them to see how her pussy swallowed her underwear. Abby’s breath hitched as the cold air mixed with her wetness. 

“You’re so pretty.” You say. 

“Shut up.” She reddened. 

“You are and I bet this pussy is just as pretty.” 

You loop your fingers onto her underwear and pull them off without hurry as she squirms underneath you. You peel them away from her slick to be met with her lips pasted together. You began to leave bites on the inner parts of her thigh. They were solid and bulging with veins that accentuated the definition on them. Her muscles flexed with every dig of your teeth accompanied by a pleasured sigh once your mouth would soothe it after. Your kisses became feather-light as you traveled to the crease of her pelvis. You place your lips and tongue on the crevice and start making out with it as if it were her pussy. 

“Ah, please.” She cried. 

So you obliged by blowing hot air onto the tip of her clit and she twitches at the sensation.

“Fuck.” Her hand comes and shoves your face into her cunt. 

Her legs widen and force her clit between your lips and you wrap them around it eagerly. You pull her clit into your mouth and watch her body contort while her hands were tied into your hair. Her moans seemed to vibrate the walls and you couldn’t believe such soprano sounds were leaving her mouth. You lap up her arousal and show her the remnants around your face. You press your lips together and spit on her pussy which elicits an obscene howl from Abby, body convulsing and head thrown back. 

“Go to the edge of the bed and lay on your stomach.” 

Abby looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, ass in the air, ready to be fucked. You plant a hard slap on her ass that makes her skin fervid and her body jolt forward in shock. Her pussy is twitching, leaking with your saliva and so swollen in this position. 

“Want me to fuck you?” You tap the sticky surface. 

“I—I do.” 

“Then beg me.” 

Abby was reluctant at first but when you slapped her cunt again she knew she needed to so she could feel some relief. “Fuck me please, I need to feel you inside of me.” 

A harder slap and your name was sloppy on her lips. 

“Ah, please I need to come, let me come baby.” 

Abby knew that would send you over the edge and it worked. You rub your fingers between her lips and watch them bloom open to reveal her pink aching hole. Slipping in one finger was enough to make her clench around it and mewl. 

“More, I need more please.” 

A second finger enters her and arches deeper into the mattress watching your tits jiggle as you sink deeper inside of her. She gripped so hard it made it difficult to move your fingers, so you pet the spongey part of her cunt. “You feel so good, Abby.” 

“Yea?” She panted.

“Look at you,” you smile in the mirror. “Taking my fingers so well.” 

She couldn’t even reply because the clapping of your hand against her ass was making her numb. You stack your ring finger onto the other two and gently enter it inside her. 

“Gaahhh, fuck!” 

“Cum for me Abby, be good and make me happy.” 

Abby was so close that she started fucking your fingers. 

“That’s right, good job.” 

Shockwaves attack her body, forcing her over the edge of the bed, sighing in painful pleasure. Once she comes over the edge, you remove your fingers with a pop and she hangs there with a temporary gape in her pussy. She sits up weakly and finds you slurping her cum from your hand and wrist.

“Guess it’s my turn now.” She smirks and lays you on your back.

part two. -ˋˏજ⁀➴

The sun filtered through the clouds. Abby’s hot body was emanating beside you, blonde ringlets on her face, and enveloped in the sheer top sheet. You pick up your phone and see it’s not even 7 yet and sigh at your internal clock. Abby’s head is heavy on the pillow beside you and you roll over to meet her face, surprised she isn’t awake yet, you brush her hair away and kiss her forehead. 

You slip into her arms with your body covered with hers and she pulls you in closer. You feel your belly jump as she rests her hand on your hip. You go back to your phone to turn DND off to see if you received any messages from your family, but there were none, only ones from Ellie. You turn down your brightness and open your texts to see a photo of her from last night. She was lying in bed, topless and her hand down the front of her red and blue checkered boxers. 

So ready to see you. 

Abby pressed into you and you clicked your phone off to be met with her sleepy kisses. 

“Rise and shine, Dummy.” Her voice was deep with rasp.

“Hi,” you roll over. “Good morning.” 

She plants a kiss on your lips as another notification rolls off your phone’s speaker. Abby shifts away as you retrieve your phone and makes it obvious she doesn’t want to invade your privacy. But she knew it was Ellie. 

Hey, was the picture too much?

no, you’re perfect. 

I couldn’t help but moan your name last night when I took it. It’s a live photo… 

didn’t know you needed me that much Els. 

I do.

:) 

I’m here at the store with Dina grabbing some stuff, idk what you and Abby like. 

Abby’s hand was just beneath your belly button, slipping closer to your pussy that was still damp from the night before. Another message. 

What about this?

It was a photo of a bottle of white wine but you couldn’t muster up a reply while Abby made circles on your clit. She needed your attention back on her. 

Or if you don't like that one, how about that.

Abby’s head was now under the covers, her tongue swiping up and down your lips. The ringtone for a call startled you, Ellie’s name appeared. How long had you waited to reply to her text? You let it ring, but it goes again. 

You have to pick up. 

“Ellie.” You say, making Abby’s ears perk up. 

“Good morning. Your voice sounds so hot.” She whisper. 

“A—ah. Yea what’s up sorry.” 

Abby takes both her hands to spread you open and expose your eager clit. 

“Just at the store and wanted to know what you and Abby liked to drink. I hope it’s nothing sophisticated,” she laughed. 

The tip of her tongue was becoming one with your pussy now. 

“Well, we like— well I knnnow she likes, fu—“ 

“You okay?” 

“Yea just accidentally … bit my tongue.” You sigh as Abby finally stops. 

“Ouch, what were you saying?” 

“Hi Ellie!” Abby says, peaking her head from under the blanket. 

You push her head down and groan. 

“Was that Abby? Tell her I said what’s up. You two are up early today.” 

Her voice quivered a little after making the observation. 

“Nursing students never stop, even on break. Uh Ellie, honestly it doesn’t matter just thinking of us was enough.” 

There's an us, Abby thought. 

“Okay, you know I just wanted to hear your voice. We really haven’t hung out.” 

“Well we are tonight so don’t think too hard about it.” 

“You always know the right things to say. I’ll leave you two to study.” Her voice softened, and suddenly you hardened with guilt. 

After saying goodbye you look at Abby who is resting between your legs with a smirk on her face, drawing circles on your skin. 

“You can be such an asshole, do you know that?” You spit. 

Abby didn’t like hearing you say that word but she knew she deserved it.

She lifts herself up, chest naked and nipples hard. “What’d I do?” 

“Are you gonna play nice with Ellie or be like this the whole time?” 

“I was playing nice, I literally said hello to her, what do you want from me?” 

You blinked your eyes vigorously and held your head. She had opened her legs slightly, exposing her pinkness to you. She did say hello. 

“It’s just, I don’t know.” 

Her hand comes between her thighs and she starts stroking her clit without breaking eye contact. “Did I do something wrong? Was I being bad or something?” 

“No. Well, a little.” 

She arched her back and fully spread her legs, she was already dripping. As you stood up to leave she moaned your name and you froze. 

“Abby come on let’s shower.” 

“Do you know how many nights I came to the thought of you?” 

You cover your chest and tighten your thighs together. 

“Most nights I would try and be so loud so you could hear me. Did you ever hear me?” She asked.

“No. I didn’t, now come on.” 

“I came over and over. This one time I even soaked my sheets imagining…” 

She closes her legs and turns around to face you. 

“Tell me.” 

She leans in and whispers. “That my toy was your strap.” 

It leaves you wrecked as she bumps into you to go turn on the shower in the bathroom. 

What should’ve been a thirty-minute shower turned into an hour-long angry make-out session. Abby handed you a towel as your wet feet slapped against her bathroom tile. You wipe the steam off the mirror to see your body spotted in bruises. 

“Abigail,” you gasp in disbelief. 

“What?” She says behind you drying her wet hair between the towel.

“Look at me!" You say, gesturing to your chest and neck.

There were heavy circles around your cleavage area, one large mark under your ear, and a few more on your bottom half. She comes around in front of you and admires her work. 

“I think you look great.” She smiled stupidly. 

You roll your eyes and walk into her bedroom trailing water. 

“Are you mad at me?” She asked. 

You pick up the bits of your clothes that found their way onto the floor. 

“Abby I’m not mad. It’s just you know I’m also seeing someone else and it can get complicated.” 

“It’s already complicated and so what I like you too, she’ll just have to deal with it.” 

You slip on your top and pants with nothing underneath. Abby shuffled through her closet and her throat tightened. She knew you wouldn’t pick her the way that she’d pick you. 

“Abby. Abby,” you turn her around. “I like you okay? That’s all you need to worry about.” 

You kiss her and she accepts it even though she’s upset with you. It didn’t matter, you could do and say anything and she’d still like you too. 

“I’ll see you later, come over whenever you like okay?” 

Her cheek brushed your hand and she rested there like that. She walks you to the door and gives you a kiss on the cheek before you go. 

“What if I don't want to be apart from you right now?” She says. 

— 

Abby insisted that you two shouldn’t show up to Ellie’s empty-handed, so you stood in the middle of a really busy grocery store. 

“I mean she was picking out wine earlier.” You explain.

“Okay, well let’s go get some meat and cheese then.” She suggested.

Abby walked with such determination through the store, slipping and sliding between people with last-minute lists. Abby began interrogating the clerk in the charcuterie section when a familiar voice called her name. 

“Abby,” Nora said. “Oh shit, look who is it.” 

Nora turns to you and gives you a slight side hug and then crosses her arms. Abby looks at her and awkwardly waves in her direction. “I would’ve thought you’d been back in Seattle for the holiday.” 

“Not this year. How have you been?” She asked. 

“Good, better if I would’ve gotten a text back.” Nora scuffs her shoes on the linoleum playfully. 

“Sorry, you know how nursing is. We barely get a chance to breathe.” 

“No I get it, I’m not mad. Could never get upset at that pretty face.” 

You sigh just a little louder than you should’ve and Nora cuts her eyes over to you.

“Well, I see you guys are busy so… Anderson, keep me in the loop.” She smirks. 

Once she’s out of earshot you say, “Yuck.”

“That was weird wasn’t it?” Abby agrees. 

“Just a little.” 

Abby paid for the items and then you were on your way to Ellie’s house. When you had a moment away from Abby while getting ready, you played the live photo she sent. Now that’s all you could think about, how she moaned your name in between the sweet noises of her pussy. It was painfully delicious to see and hear. Abby parked the car on the street and carried the bags behind you, the door was open and music was blaring from a speaker in the living room. Ellie was over at the dining table arranging fall garland in between pinecones, looking extremely out of place. You walk over to her and place a hand on her shoulder, she looks at you and forgets about everything that isn’t your lips. Abby watched Ellie take you into her arms and dip you slightly to get her tongue to fall better into your mouth. 

“I missed you so much.” Ellie groaned in your ear. 

“Abby and I brought a little appetizer.” 

“Oh Abby, hey.” They shook hands awkwardly. 

“Good to see you again, Ellie.” Abby said dryly.

“Yea.” 

“If you had a wooden chopping board or even plates could—“ 

“Don’t even worry about it,” she said taking the bags away from her. “Just get comfortable, I got cider and Prosecco, I’ll bring it out.” 

Ellie was smiling more than usual, maybe to hide her irritation with Abby walking into her house and acting so stuck up, but so far, it was actually going fine. You sit on the couch, careful not to sit on any of Dina’s stuffed animals and Abby sits in the armchair just beside you, she thought it best to keep her distance. 

Ellie brings out three glasses of cider and Prosecco and cuddles up to you on the couch. 

“I’m supposed to be helping Jesse and Dina cook but I needed a break. She had me doing the stupid decorations because I guess I’m not a good chef or whatever.” Ellie laughs. 

Abby notices how she intentionally presses her legs to yours and drums her fingers on your kneecap. She wondered if you felt the same tingles with Ellie that you did with her. She downs her drink in one gulp and requests more.

“Oh, I’ll be back.” Ellie says. 

You shoot a glance over to Abby. 

“What I’m thirsty?” She shrugs. 

Dinner went well even though Abby spoke over Ellie most of the time and tried to flex her knowledge. Abby felt herself slipping farther and farther away from you with each drink she took. She started to realize that she shouldn't have come to fulfill your pity invite. Dina suggested we all go out to a local bar before we parted ways for the long weekend, and she reluctantly tagged along. 

Outside you saw Abby walk slowly towards Ellie's car, almost as if she could see the outcome of the events about to transpire. “Abby, come on!” Ellie yelled.

You were perched between Ellie and Abby, tucked under a hightop bar, sipping a cocktail trying to ignore the feeling of both of their hands on you. Abby was rubbing your thigh while digging her nails into your skin, reminding you of the way she did last night when she— 

“Is your drink good?” Ellie questions. 

“It is, you wanna try it?" 

You hadn’t really spoken to Abby since you got to the bar and she was fuming and on the verge of being drunk. Ellie wraps her lips around the straw and peers up at you just before she lays her mouth on yours. Her tongue tastes like bitter cranberry. She pulls away and smirks, “I like that.” 

She turns to talk to Jesse and it gives you an opportunity to check in on Abby.

“Oh hey,” she says. “That was cute.” 

“Is there a reason your hand is almost inside of me right now?” You ask in a whisper. You draped your scarf over your lap like a blanket, concealing Abby's curious hands.

“A bad habit, I can stop if you want, but we both know you don’t want me to.” Her hand was now fully cupping your pussy that was throbbing behind your jeans. 

You flutter your eyes and rock your hips back and forth on her palm. Ellie turns to you and kisses your cheek, taking you out of the world of Abby. “You look beautiful tonight, I just feel like we haven’t talked much.” 

Abby moves her hand back to her glass. “Yeah, we’ve been drowning.” She interjects.

“You and Abby spend a lot of time studying huh?”

The way she said studying implied that we weren’t.

“No one else in our class really cares as much as we do so, yeah we do study a lot.” 

Your tone came off to be so defensive so you tried to smile your way through it. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admits. “I like you, just in case that wasn’t clear.” 

Abby took another sip to hide her twisted-up face.

You gulp and nod softly, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.” 

You left your scarf to fall to the ground and pushed through the bathroom door. Your mind was clouded with both thoughts of Ellie and Abby, and how you were responsible for your choices.

A heavy knock at the door frightened you into a yelp. The handle turned and Abby appeared with a peachy face and low, welted eyes. She stalks over to you and kisses you, her lips tasting like a few too many shots of rum. You kiss her back, slightly regretting it. Her hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it with a painful power.

“Abby, can we not right now.” You sigh.

She steps away with disbelief ablaze on her face, eyes clouding. “What? Scared your girlfriend is gonna find out?” 

“Abby." Your voice became weak with emotion.

Abby brushes under her eyes, to avoid a spill.

"Hm?" She grunts, raising her brow as to say, Answer me.

"She's not my girlfriend and neither are you."

She leans against the door, nodding her head, absorbing your words, wishing she realized earlier what a mistake this all was. Not just tonight, but everything — you and her.

You walk towards the door where her body is blocking your freedom. "Tonight, when you fuck her, try not to think about me too much." She spat, slipping out the door, and slamming it in your face.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon disassembles his sand castle back into the original pattern without looking, Tim experiences multiple internal crisises, and someone passes by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Tim, in self-defense, grabs a couple of the little crostini things on said tray and offers one to Kon, who looks pleased about it. 

“I dunno, does this count as a party?” Kon asks, glancing around with a little grin before popping his hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. Tim does the same, then remembers this means that now he knows what Kon’s mouth tastes like again. Dammit. 

Kon’s mouth currently tastes like ricotta and roasted grape, which isn’t even necessarily a taste that especially appeals to Tim, aside from the part where it’s how Kon’s mouth currently tastes. Why do people even roast grapes? Why is that even a thing? 

Why does Kon look so attractive in slightly smudged eyeliner he put on for him and clothes he bought him? Like–Kon always looks attractive, it’s an incredibly unfortunate curse on the world, reflexively checking out his ass in spandex literally did get Tim thrown off a roof once, but this attractive? This is several new layers of “attractive” and Kon is wearing all of them like a second skin. A very tight and fitted and well-tailored second skin, to be specific. One with cutouts and short-shorts involved. 

This metaphor may be getting away from him. 

“Technically I think so, though maybe not the usual kind,” Tim says. “I mean, it’s sort of a party, it’s just mostly an event. Maybe they want donations or something, I don’t know. Museums usually do.” 

He assumes that’s what the ticket money went to, or at least a fair chunk of it. They were pretty expensive tickets, considering, but since it’s an adults-only special event that isn't obviously themed in either a rogue-baiting or rogue-planned way he hadn't really questioned it. Getting overcharged by a probably-underfunded art museum isn't exactly enough to trot out his inner Bat or inner future supervillain for. 

Well, as long as nobody on staff annoys or insults Kon, anyway. Because in that case he will be financially destroying this place. Like, obviously. It's a little early to be planning his supervillain calling cards, but “you know what you did” is an increasingly tempting option. 

Anyway, that's just a contingency plan. Totally unnecessary as long as Kon has a good time. 

“What’s over there?” Kon asks, peering towards another station. Tim wonders why he’s asking, since he assumes he can feel it, though in retrospect “feeling” whatever it is doesn’t necessarily explain the purpose or point of whatever it is. 

“No idea,” Tim says. “Why, does it feel interesting?” 

“Um.” Kon . . . hesitates, then glances back to him, looking oddly–embarrassed, almost? Weird, Tim thinks, repressing a frown. “It’s, uh . . . kinda, I guess. I dunno. Wanna check it out?” 

“Sure,” Tim says, peering towards it. It looks like a series of boxes with holes in them all stacked on top of each other, though he can’t see what’s actually inside them–there’s curtains or something built into them. He’s not really sure what the whole setup’s supposed to be, honestly, but if Kon’s interested . . . 

They head over, and it turns out the whole setup is basically the same theory as those haunted houses where they make you stick your hand in a box full of peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti and tell you they’re eyeballs and brains, although Tim is hoping peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti won’t actually be involved. 

“So there’s literally zero surprises here for you, I’m guessing,” Tim says wryly. Kon looks sheepish. 

“We can go do something else,” he says. 

“I mean, I’ll be surprised,” Tim points out. “So up to you if you’re interested or not.” 

“Okay, point, I guess,” Kon says, laughing a little and rubbing his arm self-consciously. “I dunno.” 

“Tell me which one to try?” Tim suggests, smiling at him. Kon laughs again, ducking his head to hide a grin. That continues to not be as effective as he probably wants it to be, given their height difference, but Tim has no intention of pointing that out. He doesn’t want to make Kon more self-conscious, and also it’s fucking adorable. 

Bastard. 

“You sure about that?” Kon says, his grin turning sly as he glances back towards him. “You don’t know what’s in there, babe.” 

“I’m willing to live a little dangerously,” Tim replies with an easy shrug. Kon laughs again. 

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teases.

Tim quickly regrets letting Kon pick which boxes he should stick his hands in via trying said boxes, but also Kon just looks so fucking cute laughing at the different faces he makes for every one, so it’s hard to actually get annoyed about it. Also, Kon admittedly did warn him. 

Although he might’ve rather put up with the peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti, honestly.

Seriously. Those are some textures, ugh.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday and Thursday

I made a graphic for them I do these so often. 😆

This one will be a bit different from other WIP Wednesday. I’m going to give a brief overview of each one of my WIPs. (There are a lot, not all of them are on Tumblr, I’ll mention which ones are.)

I was tagged by @secretelephanttattoo @trulybetty @fhatbhabie ❤️ and @rhoorl I think. I feel like I mostly got it right. 😂

“This is the Neighborhood Din” My modern Din Djarin AU with a human Grogu (affectionately called Little G). Three chapters are up so far and four is almost done. I’m having a lot of fun writing it (outside of chapter two - Domestic Violence warning on that one.) I’m introducing different Star Wars characters each chapter and their interconnected relationships while keeping with my silly brand of humor. Know that Johnnie Mae is the MVP.

“Weddings 101 with Dieter” A series near and dear to me as with this series I really doubled down on writing Dieter Bravo overall as well as my delusional belief that I am somehow a comedy writer. Maya and Dieter are a hot mess, I love Daisy, Dieter’s trusty goat and that this series is the crazy ridiculous rom-com I wanna see. ❤️ Also I made Oscar Isaac have imaginary beef with Dieter and am having way too much fun writing it. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine loves this series and I love her for loving it. 🥰

“The Lake Between Us” My sleepy, dreamy series with Ezra. He has an airboat, he has a house across of the OFC’s on a lake. He cooks gumbo in a tank top. This series was inspired by Ezra cooking (I dunno why) and turned into an eight part series on two people growing closer. There’s two interludes (I’m scrapping the third one - thanks to @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for beta reading filth. This is the one time it doesn’t fit lol)

“Only Pieces of You Mr. Morales” My angsty sensual (also has a lot of sex because it’s Frankie) short series I created on a whim last week. I finally was able to write for Frankie this year outside of prompts. 👀 I describe different parts of Frankie’s body each Friday. I put out (pfft) two drabbles on Fridays. It’s a friends to friends to benefits to them figuring it all out. Maybe because I put Frankie through the wringer to much is why when I put Frankie drabbles in @i-own-loki ‘s box, she thinks I’m harming the man. 😭 I love Frankie I swear!

“Our Journey Across the Star Ocean” My fluffy Din series where you and Din (especially) are super awkward, very sweet and idiots. Three tropes I love. I have two parts and I’m working on a third. I’m not sure how long this one will be. On the shorter side for sure. Fluff for @grogusmum and @604to647

“Come away with me Angel” This is my Benny series I finally tossed out into the world. There’s only one part but I am working on part two. Friends to lovers and one house I guess as far as tropes go. I see to have a thing with cooking because so far in chapter two Benny is cooking shirtless. @rhoorl and @musings-of-a-rose we’ll need to discuss this.

“Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” This is @maggiemayhemnj ‘s brain child. She told me I made up a genre of post apocalyptic fluff so we’re going to have more. The stuff refers to darker topics because it is an apocalypse, but 80% fluff. I’ll have emoji indicators.

Unposted Planned Series:

“A Safe Place for Us” is what happens when I think on an obsessive baby daddy Dieter I wrote for a spring prompt because what else goes with a brick house am I right?! No? Well, it’s what we’re getting. Eventually. After Weddings 101. They’re not connected, different OFC and I have all sorts of silly titles.

“Therapy for the Well Adjusted” If there’s someone who is going to be put through the wringer, it’s Marcus Pike. He has an incident at work where he needs to take some time off. Because he’s Pike, he seeks out a therapist. After a miss or two, he vibes with Dr. Mint. The OFC has a longer road to therapy met with therapists whose vibes are way off and also no one needs to touch your Cakatoo. Ever. Not a euphemism an actual bird. Eventually, the OFC finds Dr. Julip. Both doctors share a practice. Nerdie style hijinks ensue. Inspired by a Marcus mini-series I made in my Spring Prompts and my own experiences with therapy.

“So Fairy not Jedi?” Din and Grogu meet a fairy warrior. Possibly might be a soulmate AU too? Din’s having all the AUs Working title just vibes. Expect it to be weird, wild and hopefully wonderful.

“It’s not all bad right cariño?” Javier Peña, the elusive, owner of aviators and the amplifier behind them. I had thoughts about him being in an AU in Loredo post Narcos as a sheriff and his interactions with a lawyer from the DA’s office Thalia. Since I haven’t given Javier much other than major angst, pickles, guava and a lot of fingers (the former DEA agent knows what I mean), I can give him a little bit of silly and something sweet. Also just vibes, but I have bullet points. Dancing and yellow jasmine.

“Ezra as a sex worker” Bullet points. Sometimes you just have him hold you, sometimes he talks the entire time but it’s fine because he sounds like sipping warm bourbon while sitting on an over stuffed chair with your feet propped up and it’s massaging all your limbs. Ezra does wonder why you don’t actually come here for sex but he’s getting paid for his time so he can keep that to himself. Until he’s in one of his rambles and asks. A cascade of events occur and he’s living in your house later. Still cooking because I always want Ezra to cook. Pfft.

Feel free to send me an ask or drop a comment about any of these. I think about them all way too much. 🤣🤣

As I was asked by @for-a-longlongtime earlier this week when talking her ear off about something, “How many words do you even write per week?!” 🙃🙃 I have no idea. It’s a lot. Maybe 2-3k but given what I post per week that feels low. It’s a compulsion at this point.

We’re at the end, thanks for reading this far! 💜💜💜

NPT: @undercoverpena-fics @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @schnarfer @wannab-urs @connectioneverywhere @inept-the-magnificent @covetyou @gemmahale @goodwithcheese @lady-bess @morallyinept @trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @alltheotps @slippinninque @magpiepills @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @laurfilijames @yorksgirl @julesonrecord @djarinmuse @paulmescal-s @tinytinymenace @pedroshotwifey

[lostheretics]

PLOT TWIST (4)

▸ chapter 4; the art of learning and overthinking

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner's luck, but will that be enough for the things you'll be facing soon?

✵ notes : 8k-ish. wow. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox (here). also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT.

☒ warnings: smut... like a wholeass breeding kink i laid it all there, once more. marriage talk, maybe a swear word(s) here and there, do remind me if i missed anything

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

"what's happening?"

"i think they're fighting."

"over what?"

"dunno."

"guys, why are you standing like that?"

"like what?"

"like clearly, fucking eavesdropping. who—"

"—ssshh! they're at it again. can you hear what he said to her?"

"not a single word."

seven men stood in front of hongjoong's office with their ears flat against the door, hoping they could get a hint of anything that happened inside. however nothing was heard, no clear words exchanged between you and hongjoong got out of the door, courtesy of his soundproof room. that was besides from hongjoong's screams alongside your own. your two voices went against each other, each time getting louder and louder.

hongjoong was livid upon your actions before.

yet you stood your ground still. 

"—we just had this opportunity, y/n, and the one time, the one fucking time i trusted you to stand under the light, you fucking threw everything that we worked hard for away just like that!" he screamed, clearly driven by anger upon your actions back at the lee mansion. to the lee juyeon.

"i threw no one and nothing! i did what i was supposed to do, i was trying to save ateez!" you screamed back defending yourself.

to your words he almost laughed maniacally. ”save ateez? by putting us in jeopardy?”

closing your eyes, you sighed. the atmosphere was tense between you and hongjoong, and it was not something that you imagined would happen in the first months of officially being a part of ateez. as a part of ateez, of course it was your goal to make ateez better and powerful. yet hongjoong couldn’t seem to see it from your point of view.

exasperatedly, you sighed. ”have some trust in me. am i not a part of ateez?"

"precisely.” 

he pressed, before continuing. “because you're a part of ateez, y/n, that's precisely why you should be more careful! anything that's gonna happen to you, gonna happen to us and it's all on you. you risk not only your life or mine, but our brothers. your husband. our allies. everyone that worked under and with us, can't you see it?"

"did i not secure our place in the gala? on my first night introduced to the underworld?"

hongjoong was immediately silenced. on that note, you were right. you secured ateez’ place in the gala.

on a special note, that is.

“hongjoong?”

turning to juyeon, hongjoong stuttered his words out, “mr. lee, please forgive y/n’s boldness, she only worked in the shadow before a-and never ha-“

“make sure you all come to my gala. the whole week, i expect you all to be there. i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.” juyeon cut his words. looking back, hongjoong caught juyeon’s eyes wandering to the corner where he just had his conversations with you, but to no avail when he didn’t caught you in his line of sight.

juyeon drew a small smile which surprised hongjoong, before looking back to him, “she’s intriguing. i should have more time to know her, and i insist it.” he then straightened his hand out for hongjoong to take,

“i should hope to see ateez more in the future.”

“what did you two talk about?”

it was a question, but you know hongjoong would demand an answer from you.

a shadow brought into the light, and not even in one night, was able to reach a place even hongjoong has never reached before. a higher league. anyone in their right mind would question it the way hongjoong did. 

“what did he say to you?” you countered.

“don’t answer a question with another, and i asked first.” 

with the staring contest the both of you were having and hongjoong’s stubborness, you know you wouldn’t win against your captain. 

you sighed, “i just said something about admiring his father’s work, that he was a winner, then he just said i fascinate him and made sure i came to the gala. that’s all, i promise.” you explained.

“joong, i don’t know what else to say but i just wish you could see that i’m on your side. i want ateez to win, the way you want it. nothing else.”

silence took over as hongjoong’s thoughts done the same to his head. 

"okay." he sighed after a few moments. "but i'm warning you, y/n. no more bold moves that i don't know of. behave." he pressed. he moved towards his table and sat down. 

"you're dismissed."

and so you left the room.

it takes time. 

it takes time, was the sentence you say to yourself repeatedly on daily basis. ever since you got tangled with ateez, married to one of its member. ever since you knew hongjoong and worked your hardest for his trust. that it would take time for hongjoong to fully trust you. 

your intentions haven't faded still. 

midnight strikes. the kitchen was cold and empty. sitting on the island, the bourbon in your hand had melted the ice as you hold it, just staring at it blankly. you chugged it in one go and filled your cup once again. a sigh slipped through your lips unconsciously. 

were you too much? 

the events that happened the last weeks played in your mind, as you go through it one by one, moment by moment, correcting yourself in your mind. 

the first time hongjoong unofficially accepted you into ateez. 

babel. 

lee juyeon and the conversation you had. 

it most definitely was the unexpected outcome, how you crossed the boundary, how, weirdly enough, he was intrigued by you instead of angered by your statements. how you secured ateez's place in the gala all because of he insisted you'd be there. based on that thoughts alone, you couldn't help but wonder what will happen at the gala soon. 

and that man in the garden, with his piercing brown eyes. 

strikingly handsome man. 

it was quite an embarrassing scene, yet all through it he only showed his concerns. even after he picked you up and moved you to a quiet hall. even after you just said a quick thank you and hurriedly ran away from him, not wanting to cause another scene any further. 

you didn't get to know his name. 

not that you needed it, it was just for formality. he saved you, after all. 

raising your cup, you sipped your bourbon again. you were just reaching the bottle to pour another, when wooyoung's voice halted you. "how many have you had?" 

turning your head, you saw him standing near the arch with a disapproving look on his face. 

"five... this would've been the sixth," you answered truthfully, chuckling to ease the air. 

"you know i hate it when you drink. i don't want you to bring back that awful drinking habit of yours." he scowled. "i don't want you to get sick, baby. you know that, right?"

by bad habit, he might be referring to your habit of drinking those poisons like water. you'd drink when you're happy. when you're sad. when you got problems. for lunch, for dinner. any time you could drink you'd drink, and it had became a part of your life so much that you didn't think much of it. though you always stay sober instead of drunk. 

and wooyoung hated it so much he cut off all access to alcohol after the first few months of becoming your boyfriend. it was a weird feeling, the withdrawal you had. yet you weren't being fussy about it, only coming back to alcohol on certain occasion like parties, dinner, and now, just casually thinking of life on a slightly deeper level. 

you smiled, "you're worried. i understand." you put down your cup on the sink, and put away the bottle back on its rack. you sat back on the chair as wooyoung walked towards you. he positioned himself between your thighs. your hands instinctively circled his neck, as he caressed your thighs softly. a peck landed on your chin. 

"a penny for your thoughts?"

the dreading question left his lips. the one question which has no definite answer, at least for the night. too much thing going around in your head with little to no way to explain it. you shook your head, only answering to him with that smile from before. 

"was it hongjoong hyung? what did you guys talk about? he seemed mad." he urged still. 

"you asked as if it was bad and you were ready to land a punch on him."

"that's because i might."

chuckling, you circled your hands tightly around him, assuring him. "i'm okay. we're okay. he's just concerned and he voiced it all so well. as he's supposed to do, as our captain." you assured him, adding a peck on his cheek to secure your statement. "don't worry, woo. it was just about the gala."

"you sure?"

"yeah."

"then there's no reason for you to stay up late anymore..." he pulled on your waist, "come to bed then? i hate sleeping without you." he whined. 

he offered you his hand, which you took happily. hand in hand the both of you walked towards your room, ending the night. safely tucked underneath the warm blanket, protected by the arms of none other than your lovely husband.

there were papers scattered around the wooden table, the computer screen was on but untouched, and a half cup of coffee that turned cold by then. 

messy table, messy head they say. 

yet it was far from how juyeon looked standing by his windowsill. his shirt were still unchanged from last morning, but still fits him well with no crinkles. his tie was loose, with his sleeves rolled up. the clock on his table was the only reminder the day had changed and the sun will soon be up, yet there he was still. 

lacking sleep and deep in his thoughts. 

a knock arrived on his office door yet he didn't bother to look up, only doing so when his butler called his name. 

"sir juyeon," he called. 

breaking his train of thoughts, juyeon looked to the elderly man standing near his desk. "ah, park jipsa*." 

"sir, the sun is almost up and you haven't had any sleep. you're not doing any of your job either. you're risking your health, sir." the elderly butler reminded him, which juyeon only replied with a chuckle. 

"you sound like you actually care about me." he mused with a chuckle, not forgetting to give him a side look. 

"that's because it's my job, sir. to make sure the lee family line goes on. it's always been a park's job to make sure of it, since years ago and for years to come," he countered back, face straight yet his eyes still hold a hard look in them. 

"not to mention it was your father's dying wish for me to keep you safe." 

ah, the lee minhyuk. dearest father. melancholy hit him, juyeon gazed to the purplish orange sky sitting outside his window. the sun was starting to show itself, welcoming itself to the morning. 

"never thought i'd be here without him." juyeon murmured to himself. 

"he loved you so much he designed everything through and through, just for you to be here," 

that old man had served the lee family since the time of juyeon's grandfather's reign. he had served lee jiyoung until her downfall, served lee minhyuk until his death, and finally lee juyeon himself. for those years, nothing about the man ever changed. 

his tongue still sharp as ever,

and his loyalty remained strong as ever. 

nothing but truth came out of his mouth. lee minhyuk was one of the fiercest man to ever live; despite his ways of usurping and his infamous act in backstabbing his own family. the world might remember him as a hero, as a villain, but to juyeon he was simply a loving father. loving enough to fulfill juyeon's need as a child even after his mother's death. 

to put everything in, he simply missed his father.

juyeon blinked a tear away, sighing before he brought back himself to reality. "you got the thing i asked for?"

"yes sir." park jipsa took out a folder and moved forward, handing it to juyeon. juyeon took it from him, opening the folder himself and screened through its pages. 

"jung y/n was an orphan. her lineage is unknown at all, our investigator asked around the orphanage and said she was just dropped there and have been there since she was a baby. the orphanage had a funding program which enabled people to fund for the children there, if they wish to help but not to adopt. that funding helped jung y/n to go to school and after that, she got a scholarship to pursue further education abroad,” the butler explained, before adding, "not much is found about her life there. after that she just went back here and took small jobs. she met ateez and jung wooyoung, courtesy of the dirty job her boss had with ateez. the rest are history, they got married and here they were."

juyeon hummed. "nothing else?"

"nothing else. nothing related to you nor the mafia world,” he answered. "may i ask who she is to you, sir? for you to look about her this way."

"that's what i'm trying to find out too, park jipsa." he grinned, closing the folder. "i just found her, and she's... enticing. i can't quite put it in words yet. like i've known her before. but alas, we haven't. but i’ll make sure we do.”

"ah, and that thing i requested?" juyeon asked once again.

his butler nodded, "it's almost ready and will be sent first thing after it's done."

juyeon let out a satisfied hum. standing up, he stretched a bit before retreating from his office. 

"i'll be resting the whole day. don't bother cleaning up my desk. i'll be available for work tomorrow." he announced as he walked out. 

the butler nodded and bowed. 

"as you wish, sir."

the lee family gala week only started a few days after chuseok. with a few days off, ateez decided that they'd visit a family for the holiday. that family happened to be wooyoung's only remaining relative; his father who lived around the rural area of the town.

it's not like the rest of the members didn't have a family. however, wooyoung's father was the only elderly figure that aligned with ateez, as in being in underworld. he was a part of a small gang who understood a little of the underworld, only stopping when he had wooyoung. some said he sort of trained wooyoung to get into the underworld. the rest of ateez's relative aren't much involved; hence the bond was better with wooyoung's father. 

jung ilwoo, but he was more famous as just mr. jung. 

the air in the countryside sure was different from the one in the city. along the fresh air  the smell of barbecued beef filled your nose. the members were preparing for dinner behind you, going back and forth. 

"food's almost ready!" seonghwa shouted, and people quickly gathered around, finishing their tasks faster. 

"guys, where's wooyoung?" you asked when you couldn't found him within the crowd. 

"try the kitchen. he was in charge of making songpyeon." one of them quipped. 

answering a quick okay, you walked into the house. you called upon your husband by his name, which he loudly answered back, telling you of his whereabouts. 

there you found him, sitting in the kitchen comfortably, skillfully molding the colorful songpyeons by hand. 

"woo, come on, dinner's almost ready," 

"hold on," he didn't even spare you a glance, "i'm trying to make the songpyeons as pretty as possible." he remarked while proudly showing you one of the songpyeons he made. 

you tsked him. "they're gonna end up ruined in our stomach anyways."

your nonchalantness had him scowling. "it's holidays, we deserve something pretty. and they say if you can make pretty songpyeons, you'll make pretty babies." he insisted. 

"you seemed to be interested in babies a lot these days." you noted, with a lighthearted chuckle. 

but it didn't set a reaction you expected out of wooyoung. rather than giving you another witty remarks or anything light to the moment like he always did, he stopped a while, stunned, before lowering his head, consumed by deep thoughts in his head. that chuckle and smile on your face was quickly wiped out as you reach for him. 

"woo?" you called, nudging him by his shoulders lightly with your fingers. 

he raised his hand, grazing your fingers before taking it in his own palm. he took a moment of silence while holding your hand, tracing every marks in there. 

"i've been thinking about making a family of our own. it's been a while," he blurted out. 

"i know. san told me," your other hand went up to his cheek, caressing him softly. "why haven't you told me this face to face?" you asked him. 

"i dropped hints. like a lot." he jokingly said. "but i guess anyone would take it as a joke as usual—"

"you're not a joke, never."

"—point is i was just afraid, i guess." he finished nervously. 

"of what?"

"that maybe you don't want kids. that maybe we'd be bad parents, or worse, if i wasn't good enough to become a dad, considering my... line of work. and many more reason." he explained, eyes still looking down at his own feet. 

there's only one jung wooyoung. 

however the times you've spent with each other had made you both realize that there are many things you don't know about each other. like how hard it was for wooyoung to voice out his thoughts, preferring acts than words. as a capo he was more used to receiving commands, listening, doing things and getting them done, despite being able to have thoughts of his own and proving it more than once. having lived with it longer than he was with you, it became something that stays with him. he might be mouthy and loud when he was clingy or showing his affections to you and others, but not when it comes to himself.

i’m okay, it’s nothing much. those were the words that most likely would came out of his mouth. all those times when he came home bruised all over his body, or even bleeding. when he could barely move without wincing in every step he took, clearly in pain. when he came out of hongjoong’s office with his head down, always the same answer.

it took you hours, even days to extract it out of him. and you’d never forget to appreciate him when he finally came clean about his problems. 

“woo, look at me.” you spoke softly, pulling up his chin softly to stare into his eyes. “i’m your wife, you’re my husband. remember? we made a vow.” which he nodded. 

“i understand that you might need time to speak up, but i don’t want us to keep anything from each other. especially things regarding our marriage, our family.” you explained. 

“and about that,” you quipped, “i’m not opposed to it. but i want us to be more ready instead of just being reckless.”

upon your words, a hopeful smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned crescent along with it. “really?” he asked, making sure which you answer with a nod. “does that mean we can start trying and preparing?”

you feigned a gasp, “i thought you’ve been trying since forever?” 

you both laughed to it. the moment was soon broken by a shout from outside, loudly calling for dinner. "c'mon, let's not make others wait."

hollers welcomed you when you and wooyoung walked out of the house, joining the rest on the veranda for dinner. 

“i hope you didn’t taint the kitchen. your dad cooks and eat there, y’know.” yeosang teased, eliciting laughs from others. 

“how about i taint your ears, shithead?” wooyoung taunted back menacingly, “i’ll gladly move next to your room, if that’s what you want.” he ended. the smile quickly wiped out of yeosang’s face as it turned pale with the imagination of restless nights caused by your nightly acts next to his room. and with wooyoung's stamina? it'd be miracle to have a 3 hours quiet time. 

after all, that's why you both got your own quarters, far from others' in the mansion. 

“i’d rather have my ears stabbed then.” he deadpanned.  

dinner started, along with chatters shared between the boys and wooyoung's father. though the old man preferred to answer shortly, being a quiet person he was. 

you didn't talk much with him, with how he answered so shortly. yet you still care for him, constantly reminding wooyoung to come home once in a while or bringing things for his father. 

"woo, aren't we gonna make offerings with the songpyeon and everything?" you quipped. dinner was done, you and wooyoung were in charge of washing dishes. 

wooyoung raised his eyebrows and returned a loud, "huh? what offerings?" 

"to your ancestors? it's a part of the holiday too, right?" you asked. 

after thinking for a while, he let out a loud 'ah'. "my dad stopped doing that when i was like... ten? i don't know." he answered nonchalantly. "besides, my dad said my grandpa and grandma passed a long time ago, when he was younger. he kinda decided it's way past the time."

"not even to your mom?"

the question left him stunned for a while. 

"right... she's dead. i don't know a thing about her though."

"i'm sorry, love." you offered an sympathetic smile. "was she bad, did she neglect you or something?"

he shrugged, "i don't know. dad never really talked about her, he was kinda dismissive about it. just said that she died not long after i was born."

he inhaled, then exhaled, seemingly deep in thoughts before speaking again. "but i don't think she's bad at all." he stated. "one time when i came home from school, i think i was around eleven or twelve... he set up an offering table. there were no photos, no name or anything. i asked him who it was for, and he said it was for my mom. he said it was an... important time and she would want to be remembered. so we prayed for her. and i asked one more time about her to my dad."

"what did he say?"

"he just said he believed that my mom would've loved me. it's just that fate didn't really allow us to be together. sounds cliche as fuck and i don't really get it even now. but i decide  to believe that she did love me. it's easier that way too. i never asked much after that."

"so you never know anything about her? at all?" you queried, invested in his back story. 

stopping his movement in wiping the plates, he leaned back and furrowed his brows, deeply thinking. then he answered, 

"dad said my eyes were like hers, and she gave me my name. he also said she was brave and i took after her, just in a reckless way." 

that conversation ended with laughs escaping from both of your mouths. and so did the night. 

midnight passed, and you were sure everyone was fast asleep when you moved to the living room. 

the songpyeons you had spared before were placed neatly on a plate, along with some other offerings like fruits. there were a bowl of rice and a soup. lighting the candles, you sat down in front of the table. 

you've decided to pay a little respect for wooyoung's mother, if he and his father decided not to. 

you thanked mrs. jung for bringing wooyoung to where he is now; as your loved one, while wondering what would she be like if she were still here. what would she see from you, and many things. you prayed that wherever she is now she'll do well, promising you'll do your best to be wooyoung's wife. 

he might be a pain in the ass sometimes but thank you, he's the sweetness everyone needed in this bitter life.

you were just sitting comfortably in the silence when you heard someone clearing their throat just behind you. turning your back, your eyes found mr. jung standing there, just staring at you blankly. 

"abeoji*..." you stuttered like a deer caught in the headlight, quickly standing up. awkwardness filled in, you knew you weren't wrong for doing it, but it feels unfair to do it yourself when wooyoung and his father didn't even do so. despite being in laws with mr. jung, you still feel like a stranger in the household. 

he raised his hand calmly, dismissing the awkwardness. then he smiled at you. he took a closer look to the offering table you made for mrs. jung. 

he then just stared at it longingly. 

not a single word slipped out of your lips when he observed you and your midnight activity. he just sighed again, retreating. 

"you really are something else." he chuckled with his deep voice. 

"i'm sorry if this offended you." you apologized, but he just shook his head. 

"you're doing something nice, how am i offended?" he said, "i trust she'll be at ease... now that you're here."

he then proceeded to speak more. "always a surprise, something else she was. i wish she could've seen wooyoung and how he grew up, what kind of man he will grown into."

"i'm sure she would've been so proud oof wooyoung and you. for raising him to the man he is today. i believe she'd do anything for you if she could." you said soothingly. 

"hmm, it shows." he quipped. “for everything to fall this way, i can see why she chose…“ he stopped himself, staring at you for a while, before moving his eyes to the offering table once more. 

“this.” 

you raised your eyebrows upon the cryptic message, confusion written all over your face. upon seeing your contorted face, instead of further explaining things, the man chose to retreat, offering you a small smile.

“good night, y/n.”

it was a weird encounter with mr. jung. 

however, you remembered wooyoung and hongjoong's words, about how cryptic and confusing the elderly man can be. and you were never in one thought anyway with mr. jung, so you decided to drop the thoughts of that night. 

but surprise, surprise, oh the thoughts you were going to have today. 

"...say what?" you dumbly ask once again. 

your butler sighed, once again offering the fancy box in his hand. "it came just this morning, madam. a gift from lee juyeon for the gala, addressed to mrs. jung y/n." he explained. 

the whole people sat around the table were silent as they watched the scene unfold before them. wooyoung rose to action first, snatching the box from the butler and putting it on the table.

upon opening the box, he was met with a neatly folded fabric of what seemed to be a dress, a set of jewelry, a pair of masks, an invitation and a piece of paper. he took both the invitation and paper, observing the contents. he found the gala theme to be a masquerade party, the lee family invited ateez to be a part of the gala for a week. he then moved his eyes to the other piece of paper, reading it carefully. 

he decided to read it out loud. "dearest mrs. jung, i hope you accept this token of good friendship between us, ateez and lee family. come to the gala and— what the fuck? —and allow me to have a dance with you— what the," he seethed, "what is this royal bastard doing?! sending you these and- and a dance?! hyung didn't you tell him she was married?" he asked, voice going an octave higher. 

"well he did use 'mrs. jung', so he should've known." yeosang quipped, back to eating his breakfast. 

"hongjoong?" you asked him unsurely. he took the paper from wooyoung's hand, reading the content quickly before putting it down. 

"we need this connection." he sighed, but proceed to look up to you, "how about you? are you okay with this? i know this is important and we kinda don't have a choice, but i wanna know how you feel about this. don't do it if you're not comfortable." he made sure, eyes glimmering with hesitation. you just nod, though hesitating, you sure want to give the best. 

"we have no choice." you murmured agreeing with him. 

"uh, excuse me? i'm her husband? shouldn't i be the one saying that?" wooyoung cut in the conversation, still salty and filled with jealousy. 

"ooh, the green monster is showing." one of the boys said, inducing laughter. 

hongjoong just chuckled. "hey, no one is in fault in here. i told him she was married, y/n explained to him that you are, no doubt, her husband." he explained. 

"you do you, woo. watch on your wife, but remember," he pressed on his last word, "business is business. keep it professional. and i see there's a pair of matching masquerade mask in there. i think it speaks a lot." 

standing up, hongjoong clasped his hands together, gathering his voice before announcing, "tonights is the start of the gala week. prepare yourselves, show up all clean, be ready, and be at your best behavior. i expect the best out of all of us. we're leaving at five this evening."

he raised his cup of morning tea, proposing a toast.

"to our glory."

the whole day, wooyoung has been pouting, seething, if not drowning in jealousy over the morning shenanigans. it was bound to happen anyway, with how possessive he could be. not that you're complaining, that side of him could lead to many passionate things to your marriage life. 

passionate arguments, and even more passionate endings, fiery make ups. 

you constantly teased him, drawing even more crinkle on his face leading to you laughing. he was still upset, but it went moderate when you found that juyeon not only included a pair of matching mask, but also a matching tie to your dress for wooyoung's attire, in which wooyoung complained with a ‘tie and a dress? that’s hardly fair.’

in the end, you both had to use the gift well. 

"fuck, that royal bastard has a good taste, too." he murmured, on today's evening while waiting for you on the living room. 

he was trying his best to still look upset, keyword trying. the only thing that made him angry in the first place was the fact some other guy gave you something personal; but can he truly stay mad when you look this good? 

it was a long black dress, his favorite color. a sleeveless dress with a halter style top and a choker neckline. the piece being backless and having an absolutely low cut on the front part did not help at all, only accentuating the curves of your breasts. the only cute thing the dress provided was the frilly tulle skirt. the pair of earrings and bracelet only made you shine brighter, giving you that elegant look. 

and it didn't help you the way wooyoung look with his all black suit and a tie matching to your black dress. his usually messy hair was now tied up. the rolex he got sat nicely on his wrist, giving him that professional look. as if he wasn't ravishing enough to begin with in his usual baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, he had to rub his handsomeness to your face this way. 

"you look absolutely ravishing, wife," he couldn't help but blurt out, eyes still watching you like a hawk watching on its prey. he landed a smooth kiss on the back of your hand. 

"and so are you, husband." you smirked. you boldly reach out, pulling on his neck to land a playful kiss on his lips which he happily returned. 

"please, for the love of god, get a room." 

at this point, none of the boys' complaints got into any of your brains. hand in hand, and still stars trucked, you both got into the designed rolls royce. you thought the sunset looked nice that day, but all wooyoung see was you, all the way to the lee family mansion.

the lee family mansion, to say it was nicely decorated wouldn't do any justice. 

everything was decorated in a golden brown hue, the lights were set in a yellow tone. just from the lobby you could faintly hear a classical music played by orchestra, and you could see some art pieces here and there, the ones that were guarded and, maybe, were lent from museum. 

talking about old money. 

there are some guests chatting just around the corner of the great hall, while the rest busy themselves waltzing around in the middle of the room with their respective partners. 

"tiger in. is everybody in the room?"

hongjoong's voice came through each of your ear pieces. you and wooyoung look at each other before nodding, confirming that you hear the same thing. pressing a button, you each confirmed of your presence. 

"yeon in."

"uno in."

"mars in."

"lion in."

"howl in."

"bear in."

"fox in."

lastly, you spoke, "ocean in."

"remember. behave. dance or talk around, make new allies, and observe. dismissed." hongjoong's voice once again blasted, before a light beep came through, ending the conversation. 

from the corner of your eyes you could faintly see the members starting to scatter around the room, some in pairs, some alone. your arm was still intertwined with wooyoung, as he lead you further into the great hall. 

"i think we have some time for us." wooyoung remarked, stopping in near the dancing crowd. stepping in front of you, he offered his hand. "what do you say? shall we dance?" 

smirking, you accepted his hand. "lead the way, husband."

he hold your hand in his, while his other hand rested on your waist. you put your other hand on his shoulder. he lead you both to the middle of the dancing crowd, feet tapping to the music as he swayed you in his arms. 

wooyoung was undoubtedly a good dancer. he lead you in such a way you were easily swayed and moved, as if your muscles became his to move around. he spin you around, eliciting chuckles from the both of you when your tulle twirled with your movement. once again his hand landed on your waist, pulling you close to his body. 

"you're so beautiful." he whispered. 

"and you're so handsome. how many times more are we going to have this conversation?" you ask amusedly. 

"until i forget how beautiful you are." 

he lowered his eyes, taking your whole attire. the dress, the black with gold stripes mask similar to his adorning your eyes, the soft velvet gloves encasing your hands— you looked stunning. you looked so stunning he couldn't help his hand to go higher, resting it on your bare back, giving it a gentle squeeze. his breath went heavier as he felt your smooth skin under his palm. 

you hissed upon his touch, hot against your skin. "woo—" you warned. 

"i need you," he exhaled, "god, i need you so desperately. you're so beautiful it's driving me insane." he spoke breathily. 

"baby, we're at work." you reminded him of the reality, but it didn't seem to bother him at all as he moved his lips near your ears, his breath ghosted around as he lightly nip your earlobe. 

"it'll be quick, i promise. i'll make it good." his grip on your back went tighter, "please," he begged. 

he moved his head back, staring at your eyes and lips for a second. lust were clear in his eyes, from behind his mask. he dived for your lips, kissing you lightly, though you know he's holding himself back so much as you were both in a middle of a crowd, while at work. the kiss might be light and seemly innocent, but not with the way he bit your lower lip when he pulled back, alluring you with his lustful gaze. 

he pleaded once again. 

in which you could no longer keep your stance, nor your needs, nor your sanity. a whispered yes escaped your lips, and he was fast in pulling you away from the crowd, away from the great hall, practically running to the farthest and quietest bathroom. patience be damned, as thin as ice when he backed you up against each hallway, kissing and groping each other as if there's no tomorrow. 

thank the lees for having such a big bathroom. 

wooyoung basically pushed you inside the room, making your waist hit the cabinet as he locked the room. 

oh, the primal look in his eyes. 

he took of his mask, threw it somewhere across the room. you did the same. he stepped forward, claiming your lips with his once again, this time with no restraint as no one was around. you could hear your breaths racing, the messy smacking of your lips against his, raising heat to your face and your insides. 

"baby," you pulled, trying hard to hold him, "baby we gotta be quick," you reminded him. 

he just nodded. "turn around for me." and you obeyed him, turning around to face the huge mirror in front of you. "watch us baby. don't take your eyes off the mirror." he commanded. 

and you did.

you watched as he stared at you through the mirror, his hands busy in picking up your tulle skirt revealing your black panties. you picked your skirt from his hand, bunching some of the fabric in your hands, putting it aside. 

he slid his hand through your (already soaked) panties, and you involuntarily closed. "eyes open, baby girl." he gripped your jaw. he quickly pulled his zipper, lowering both his underwear and pants just enough to let his dick out. you couldn't see it, the anticipation of it filling you, until you could feel him putting your panties aside, teasing your other lips with his tip before he pushed his dick inside your walls, up to the brim and stilling, catching his breath. 

"stop fluttering around me," he whined feeling your walls massaging his cock nicely. "fuck, so tight."

you were already a moaning mess by the time he slowly moved. 

"faster, woo," you begged already letting the greed take over. his faint smirk was visible through the mirror. 

the snapping movement he created was so good you almost lost balance, but he caught you just in time as he brought his body closer to you, trapping you between the cabinet and himself. he put his hand near your stomach on the cabinet to save you from further unwanted pain, as he laid his head against yours, lips right beside your ears. 

"my good girl, so dirty, so in love with me she'd let me take her in someone else's bathroom, at work," he groaned into your ears. "your moans are so pretty, baby. here i thought the dress was the only pretty thing on you." 

praising or degrading, at this point you have no idea. not with how delicious his cock glided around your velvet walls. not with how his lips playfully glided across the column of neck, giving feathery kisses. 

"y-you're fucking me so good, woo," you moaned out. 

"yeah? always giving the best for my girl, no?" he asked you, and you nod obediently. 

"look at how beautiful you are now, y/n." he gripped your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes open, "other men might give you this dress, and this dress looked so damn good on you, yes,"

so this is what it was about. partly. 

"but only i can make you moan so pretty like this. make your pretty pussy flutter, make your face contort in pleasure prettily when i give you those mind blowing orgasm," he taunted, "only my dick can please you, filling you up with my cum the way you like it."

a loud moan slipped through you agape mouth, amusing wooyoung. "you always loved my cum, don't you? filling you up to the brim. fuck, could get you all round and pregnant. would you like that?" 

"yes, yes, yes!"

"yes what, baby?"

"give me your babies, fill me up, i'll be pregnant for you, fuck!" you cried out, feeling the hot wave on your lower parts, "fuck baby, i'm—" your brain short circuited stopping your words, completely replacing it with louder moans. 

"you're gonna walk around and dance around with my cum inside you. i don't want a bit of it spilled out. want you to remember that you're carrying me inside of you while you talk and move around with other men." he seethed. he slipped his hand under your skirt, easily found your clit and pressed it with his thumb, making fast figure eights on it. 

you desperately turned your face, hand going behind you to pull him by the cheek closer to your face, wanting to kiss him so bad. he captured your lips in a messy kiss, creating strings of saliva as both tongue danced around. he fastened his movement when he felt your pussy fluttering around him and your moans getting messier, which only mean you're close. 

you came with a loud moan, your essence wetting his dick and some dripping down your thighs. wooyoung chased his high, groaning loudly when he stilled, making sure he put his cum deep inside you.

"clench baby. keep it inside." he inquired as he pulled out slowly. he quickly put your panties back, getting some tissue from the cabinet to wipe the rest of your essence on your legs as well from his overly wet dick, before putting it back to its place. 

he zipped himself up before helping you to stand properly, straightening your skirt to put it back to its proper state, then smiled as if you both didn't just sin in someone else's bathroom. you were still dazed and catching your breath. turning around, you circled your hands around his neck, pulling him for a sweet soft kiss for a cherry on top. 

a ringtone blasted from wooyoung's phone, breaking the kiss. 

"shit, it's hongjoong hyung." he cussed, but still pressing the green button, "hello?"

"where the fuck are you? and where's y/n? why aren't you both answering to your receivers?" hongjoong's voice blasted from the speaker so loud wooyoung flinched and had to put his phone away from his ears, trying not to be deaf in such a young age. 

"hyung, chill, we were just stepping out for... a fresh air." he made up while holding back his own laugh. hongjoong might be absolutely mad over this shenanigans, but it's so worth it.

"get back here asap. juyeon's asking for y/n. and i've sent everyone out to look for yo—"

and just then, the door bursted open, revealing jongho and his face, contorting in disgust when he finally realize the scene happening in front of him. 

"in the middle of work? really?" wooyoung could only throw a sheepish smile. he sighed, before answering to his earpiece, "found the two lovebirds. in a damn bathroom so far in the east wing doing god knows what." he almost gagged. 

jongho stepped backwards, "let's go. y/n's wanted."

"never knew bathroom air could be so fresh."  someone quipped through the receiver. 

the crowd in the great hall once again welcomed you. you caught hongjoong and juyeon in the line of your sight, and you knew it was your cue to go. sharing one more quick kiss with wooyoung, you departed for the two men, leaving wooyoung and jongho behind.

you threw juyeon a sweet smile, "evening mr. lee. what a great party you have here."

"and attended by a great person, too. i see you're putting my token of goodwill to good use." he remarked, taking your hand and landing a kiss there. "and i hope this a way to say yes to a dance with me?" 

"it's a yes, sir."

juyeon smiled back, excusing you and himself to hongjoong before leading you to the dance floor. his movement was slightly stiffer than wooyoung's but he proved to still able to lead a dance. never having to stood this close to another man made you feel nervous, obvious to your awkward touch on his shoulder. 

juyeon watched your awkward body language with an amused grin on his face, "lighten up, mrs. jung.  i can promise you it's not my intention to create any problem between our relationship. especially so early like this."

"so you're planning to do it in the future, then?" you teased, in which he replied with a curt smile. 

"i hope not. i'd like to make friends more than foes." 

you followed his lead in the dance, lightening up yourself before juyeon as you both chatted. lee juyeon is as smooth as he is light with his lips, in contrast to his usual hard look and rumored harsh personality. despite you being the one who had to approach him and initiate alliance, he talked more and eased the air around, sometimes even joking around.

after a while, you finally decided to push the topic you've been dreading for the past week. "so what do you think, mr. lee? of my proposal, alliance between us?" you asked, anxiety churning in the pit of your stomach. 

juyeon went quiet upon your sudden intrusion, and you thought maybe you were too fast on confronting the issue. his eyes wandered around the room, trying to escape your gaze, you presumed. however he tightened his grip on you, bringing you closer to him. 

"i actually have considered it, and i think it's a nice proposal, but," he stopped for a while, "i must make sure that this will work, the lees and ateez. so i can't just accept you working under my family just like that," he continued. 

your heart almost dropped, and maybe so did your face behind the mask. 

"however, i have a way to do that." he spoke again, and you quickly raised your head, awaiting his next response. 

"look to your left. your nine o'clock." he commanded. you slightly turned to your left, eyeing the part of the room he mentioned. he then stated, "see the man in black and white suit, a black diamond pin on his necktie and plain black mask?" 

you nodded, confirming that you saw the same man. 

"his name is kim younghoon, from seoul kim family. ever heard of them?"

"yes. another mafia royal family. almost like your family, i think."

"not as mighty as mine, but yes." he asserted.

"what about them?" you questioned. 

juyeon took a deep breath, readying himself as he explained. "the lees and the kims have been an ally for many generations. but unfortunately, after the thing... between my dad and lee jiyoung, it sort of created a gap between us." he added, "most of their families were supporters of my aunt." you nodded. 

"their fields are similar to ateez's biggest industry at the moment. meds, drugs, et cetera. you'd found common ground with them and ateez will grow more. here's where you came in handy." he remarked, "i want you to act as a third party between our families. fix things between us. i'll introduce you to kim younghoon, pass you up for a dance. you'll work with them, and if your work is good, your bond with them will automatically be stronger, however, they won't be able to ignore the fact that i was the one that brought you to them."

"a good work to the kims means a good work for me and my family. a good work with the kims and lees means you have connections to two of the most powerful mafia families. a win-win, a perfect domino effect, don't you think?" he proposed. 

you furrowed your brows. 

truthfully, juyeon was right. it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. the lees are ruler of the south, and the kims held most part of seoul, not to mention the amount of their members that entered the politics and industries.

you’ve heard yeosang mentioning the kims more than twice. how they owned many hospitals, many other companies as well, but putting their drug company as their main family business. the kims are born from a line of doctors, professors of medicinal world, as well as businessmen dan businesswomen. some of them are even took part in the government’s ministry of health office, to maintain free passage for their own business. they don’t take much part in the dirty work within the mafia world, but they were still influential enough within it.

“taking a sweet time, aren’t we?” 

“i’ll take the offer.” you quickly blurted out.

juyeon stared at your face, your eyes, trying to find any faults, any sign of hesitation, as this was considerably a hard job for a rookie no matter how easy it sounded. yet all he was met was a pair piercing eyes staring right back at him. “i won’t pull back. just like what i said before.” 

the music stopped, just after you said your last word. you both bowed at each other, ending the first dance session perfectly. taking his offered hands to you, he led you away from the dance floor right to your awaiting guest. you walked just slightly behind him, letting juyeon take all the lead.

juyeon tapped on the said man’s shoulder when you stepped behind him.

juyeon let out a curt smile when kim younghoon turned around to face him. “kim younghoon,” he greeted shortly.

“juyeon.” younghoon replied just as short with a smile on his face. “nice party.” 

juyeon hummed, “never a boring party with the lees.”

the cold and thick atmosphere between the two were unmistakable, clear to anyone’s eyes who dared to observe. juyeon and his piercing gaze, kim younghoon as his calm demeanor, yet straight eyes and body language, keeping his dominant persona in check. 

when juyeon realized the meaningless chit-chat would lead nowhere, he pulled you forward placing you right beside him. “this is mrs. jung y/n of ateez. i told you about her just before the gala, remember?”

upon the introduction, you quickly bowed at kim younghoon out of courtesy. you wouldn’t dare to stare yet, but you could see him offering you a warm smile and a bow just from the corner of your eyes.

“i do remember.” 

“well, in my opinion you should offer her a dance. she’s a great dancer, from my short yet unforgettable experience,” juyeon had said, pulling you even further for you to stand before kim younghoon. “she follows exceptionally well.” he implied.

“then i should find out by myself.”

he offered juyeon one last bow out of courtesy, which juyeon replied back with one. juyeon stepped back, before turning around and completely disappear from both of your presence to give you a space of your own.

a counting tap was heard, indicating the start of the next dance session. younghoon offered his hand to you, “may i?”

you took his hand in you just when the music started, and he quickly led the dance, bringing you to the middle of the dancefloor between the crowd. 

it started off awkwardly, as you racked your brain, thinking hardly of what to say, of how to start a conversation at all. lifting your gaze, you were met with younghoon’s pair of soft brown eyes, already staring at you.

oh. oh. you felt something tugging in your stomach as your brain remembered and tried to recall the deja vu you just had. those brown eyes. the garden, the sound of your breath hitching.

“you…” your words were stuck, as you were stunned.

the man in the garden, your helper, your savior, was none other than kim younghoon.

younghoon smiled, you could see his eyes curved into a crescent from behind his mask making his brown eyes shine even brighter.

“miss,” he greeted softly. “i finally know your name now, y/n.”

what kind of coincidence was this?

also i almost lost my whole document (fic bits, drafts, etc) bc i stupidly brought my phone to the pool and now it's dead.

* jipsa; butler

* abeoji; father (sorta formal)

ok i think i might start aiming to write >5k for each chapter so WE. CAN. GET. IT. DONE.

also i feel like i'm gonna focus more on younghoon, juyeon, y/n and hongjoong in the next chapter bc i need to start building the plot up.

I HOPE U ENJOY

[ineffable-nebula]

Angel of Small death

Human AU

Crowley and Aziraphale have moved to the digital era and created a life on video streaming platform Youtube. They have thousands of fans who look up to them both. Aziraphale makes book review videos and Crowley mainly about Aziraphale when he isn't talking about the ineffability of death.

But suddenly his thoughts surrounding death become a little too real for everyone.

AO3 Link

22k Words

warnings: Major character death, terminal illness, cancer, talks about needles and blood being took, general hospital talk

It started with the bruises.

He'd seen them scattered over Crowley’s skin like smudges of paint; like little lavender blooms in a field. Greyish-lilac in colour, and faintly speckled. Oddly pretty, even. They were dotted here and there, in odd places that shouldn’t often get knocked – his palms, his thighs, his stomach. His shins were littered with blotches like he'd been playing football, yet Crowley was hardly a sporty person. Upon noticing them, Aziraphale had pointed them out as they slouched on the sofa watching Planet Earth. Crowley had glanced down at the mark and wrinkled his nose, dismissing it as clumsiness or some other mishap. Aziraphale hadn’t thought much more of it after that.

A few days later, in the early evening, a loud curse came from the bathroom and Aziraphale started, calling out. A few thuds sounded, and then Crowley walked into the room with bloody hands and a bloodier nose.

‘It just came out of nowhere,’ he’d said.

They'd found tissues and cleaned up the mess, Crowley lying on his back squeezing the bridge of his nose. A small drop of red had fallen onto Aziraphale’s bookshop carpet; he didn't mind that much. No amount of bleach was going to get it out.

Later, he placed a table over the mark.

The nosebleeds became a recurrence, to the point where Crowley constantly carried tissues and Aziraphale nagged him to visit the doctor. Crowley was stubborn and lazy and put up a mean fight, though, and Aziraphale eventually gave up.

Then, for a week, there was no blood and nothing extraordinary happening, and Aziraphale almost forgot about the incidents until Crowley was straddling him on the sofa with his hands on Aziraphale’s skin and their bare chests pressed together.

Pulling away from the breathless kiss, Aziraphale frowned as his hands trailed Crowley’s sides. Each rib was a small bump under his fingers.

‘Have you lost weight?’

Crowley shrugged, breathing hard and pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s neck. ‘Dunno. Maybe. Why?’

‘I can feel your ribs. You're thinner.’

‘Good,’ Crowley joked, grabbing Aziraphale’s chin and pulling it back up to kiss him. Aziraphale sighed and relented, moving his hands to Crowley’s hips. He was quickly distracted as Crowley ground down into him and he gasped, revelling in the feeling of Crowley’s fingers tugging at his hair. Sliding his hands under Crowley’s waistband, he gripped his ass, rocking them back and forth. Crowley’s hands were everywhere and the friction between them felt a thousand degrees hot; whatever he had been worried about was quickly forgotten.

They slept in Aziraphale’s bed that night, and Aziraphale lay awake longer than he should have, tracing his finger down the ridges of Crowley’s spine as he lay on his front next to him. He knew it was probably just his own hypochondria making him worry, but Crowley was definitely thinner. He was all angles now, and his hips seemed to have lost some of their curves. Crowley wasn't meant to be bony – Crowley was soft and had thighs that gave when you gripped them. His legs had felt skinnier and locked around Aziraphale’s waist that evening.

Aziraphale shuffled closer to him and fell asleep with his hand on the curve of Crowley’s back and a frown creasing his brow.

-

Crowley was tired.

That was the main theme of the next few weeks.

Even the fans had caught on thanks to Crowley’s insistence on tweeting every thought that came into his head, and they’d even gotten the hashtag ‘#whyiscrowleytired’ trending. Aziraphale scrolled through it once, just curious to see what the hell it was all about. Many posts suggested he was tiring himself out fucking Aziraphale every hour of the day – Aziraphale had known they'd come up with that eventually. He wondered how many of them were actually being serious.

One comment caught his eye and he read it, chewing on his lip.

maybe this is going to be like all the fics and it'll turn out he has brain cancer or something lmao #whyisdantired

It was satire and he knew it, but it still bothered him for some reason.

He gave himself a shake, closing the web browser and shutting his laptop. Even if they were half right,he reminded himself, it's me who always dies in the fics.

-

The fever came, and brought with it aching joints and a white face and sweat on Crowley’s forehead.

Aziraphale fussed over him, making soup that Crowley turned his nose up at and sitting with Crowley’s head in his lap for hours while they watched Game of Thrones. The tickle of Crowley’s breath against his leg was fast and frequent. A patch of damp warmth suddenly appeared and he looked down, grimacing as he saw the small trickle of blood from Crowley’s nose staining his jeans.

‘You will have to go to the doctor’s at some point, you know,’ he commented a few minutes later as he stood outside the bathroom while Crowley cleaned up his face.

‘It's just a virus,’ came a muffled reply.

‘Then you need medicine.’

‘I'm fine.’

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and folded his arms, staring at his feet. He was getting Crowley to a doctor if it meant dragging him kicking and screaming.

Just to be safe.

That's what he told himself.

-

Crowley went to the doctor eventually, but insisted Aziraphale stay home.

Halfway through his lunch, Aziraphale’s phone buzzed and he picked it up, a text from Crowley popping up on the screen.

coming home now

He sighed in relief, and typed out his own message.

-Everything okay?

The reply came through almost instantly.

-idk they want blood tests

His brow furrowed.

-Why??

-dunno something about white blood cells

Crowley came home and climbed straight into his bed, pulling Aziraphale in with him and pressing his face into Aziraphale’s back. Aziraphale had laid there, staring at the clock that told him it was only two in the afternoon. Still, he laced his hand with Crowley’s as it wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist and waited for Crowley to fall asleep. He'd be free to get up once he had dropped off.

Crowley’s breathing was quick and Aziraphale could feel his burning skin through his shirt. The bed heated up quickly, and Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably, trying to wriggle his way out without disturbing Crowley. The arm around his waist tightened and Crowley let out a quiet groan and Aziraphale stilled, waiting for the rhythm of Crowley’s breaths to slow again. They did – barely – and he managed to slide carefully away and out of the bed.

It was cooler and more comfortable on the sofa, but a small twinge of guilt twisted in his stomach as the harsh, hacking sound of coughing came from Crowley’s room.

-

He'd been resisting the temptation to Google Crowley’s symptoms for almost a month, and he could feel he was close to giving in.

In truth, he knew all the results would be the worst case scenario, and Crowley was likely just coming down with a particularly nasty case of flu that had messed with his nose. There was nothing abnormal about his symptoms – it was classic virus behaviour, save for the weight loss and perhaps the bruises. It was truly nothing to worry about. Even so, with a guilty conscience, he unlocked his phone and keyed in the search.

His eyes flicked down the page and he quickly closed the tab, putting his phone face down on the table, disturbed, because every single result had said the same thing.

-

Aziraphale came with Crowley for the blood test.

They sat together – as usual – in the waiting room, sitting as close as was possible without seeming suspicious. The guard was up.

A young doctor with a clipboard called Crowley’s name and they both stood, Aziraphale shooting Crowley a reassuring smile as they followed the doctor through a short corridor.

In the room, the doctor – who Aziraphale learned was called Dr. Yim – put a tight strap around Crowley’s arm and sterilised the area on the inside of his elbow.

‘What's it going to feel like?’ Crowley asked. He couldn't really remember the last time this had happened when he had that operation – the morphine had seen to that.

‘Just a sharp scratch.’ Yim replied.

Crowley’s eyes widened and he grimaced at the sight of the needle, turning to Aziraphale, determinedly looking away from his arm.

‘Distract me,’ he muttered.

Aziraphale nodded, trying not to watch what was happening. ‘Are you going to make any new videos soon?’

‘Maybe. I've not really been feeling up to it lately, but I've got some ideas –,’ he suddenly stopped, mouth tightening as the needle entered his arm. Aziraphale watched in morbid fascination, unable to tear his eyes away, as the small tube attached to the needle filled slowly with Crowley’s blood.

‘Not so bad,’ Crowley muttered. He had turned sheet white, and Aziraphale was inclined to think he was reassuring himself rather than talking to Aziraphale.

It was over relatively quickly and they were on their way, Crowley absently rubbing his thumb back and forth over the plaster on his arm.

‘Leave it alone,’ Aziraphale said gently, nudging his fingers away.

Crowley smiled sideways at him, dropping his hand to his side and bumping their knuckles together. Aziraphale’s little finger caught Crowley’s, just for a second.

They fell asleep on the sofa that night, Aziraphale’s legs in Crowley’s lap and their hands loosely laced together.

-

Four days later, Aziraphale came home from Tesco to find Crowley sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands.

‘What's wrong?’ he asked, dumping the plastic bag on the floor by the stairs and taking his coat off.

Crowley didn't reply.

‘Crowley?’

A pause. Crowley rubbed a hand over his face. ‘They want me to go to the hospital. There was something wrong with the blood test.’

Aziraphale frowned. ‘You mean they did it wrong, or –’

‘No. My blood. There's something wrong with my blood.’ He looked up, his expression anguished. ‘They want to do a bone marrow biopsy. I know what that's for, Aziraphale.’

Aziraphale felt a cold finger drag itself down his spine. ‘What?’

Silence. Crowley stood up, covering his face.

‘What, Crowley?’

Crowley turned to Aziraphale. His eyes were a little red.

-

‘Leukaemia.’

A long silence.

The word hung heavy in the air.

Aziraphale felt Crowley stiffen beside him; sensing it both physically and not so. The tension flowed off him in tangible waves, and Aziraphale could see it in the slight way his fingers began to drum on the arm of the chair and how he stopped bouncing his leg.

‘Acute myeloid leukaemia, to be precise. Cancer of the white blood cells. Not metastasised.’ The doctor looked up from her desk to Crowley, her face grim. ‘I’m incredibly sorry, Mr. Howell.’

Crowley put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. There was a pause. When he spoke, his voice was emotionless.

‘Stage?’

‘...Due to its nature, leukaemia isn't staged like other cancers. You'd be classed as something like early to mid stage. However, while your cancer has not spread to other parts of your body yet, there is a high risk that it will do so if we do not begin treatment promptly.’

Crowley didn't take his face from his hands. Aziraphale stared at him intently, half-listening to the doctor. Everything felt muted – like being underwater.

‘So it’s treatable?’ Crowley asked, raising his head.

‘Yes, immediately.’

‘Am I going to die?’

Aziraphale closed his eyes, clenching his jaw.

The doctor hesitated. ‘It is… unlikely, but it's hard to say at this point.’

Crowley let out a long, shuddering breath, sinking back into his hands. ‘Oh my God.’

‘AML is typically associated with a poor prognosis, but you are young and otherwise healthy. We’ve caught it fairly early on. We’re going to do everything we can to get you through this. You’ll have every kind of support you need.’ The doctor turned to Aziraphale, seemingly uncertain. ‘Are you…?’ She motioned between them.

‘We’re together,’ Aziraphale said without hesitating. It felt strange to say – it was not something they spoke about much. They just were.

‘I understand. Any support you require in terms of mental health, coping with psychological stress, etcetera – that will also be available to you,’ she addressed Aziraphale.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

Crowley had removed his head from his hands and was sitting up, hands locked tight together in his lap. ‘So. Treatment,’ he said. ‘What’s going to happen?’

The doctor looked down, unearthing some papers from her desk. ‘Well, since your condition is an aggressive one, we’ll likely be starting treatment in a few days' time or as soon as we can get you a space in the chemotherapy ward.’

‘Chemotherapy,’ Crowley repeated, his hand automatically going to his hair. It was pushed back out of his face today. ‘So I'll lose my hair.’

‘It’s a common side effect.’

‘Is it guaranteed to work?’

‘Unfortunately not. But there is a very good chance that it will, considering that we’ve caught it before it has spread.’

‘Right.’

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s leg lean against his and he nudged it back. I'm right here.

‘Will he have to stay in hospital?’ Aziraphale queried.

‘Most likely, yes. Only during the treatment though – when he’s on breaks, he can go home. Since his immune system will be compromised by both the condition and the treatment, it’s important that he's in a sterile environment. Any small infection could be dangerous.’

‘How long?’

‘Anywhere between a few weeks and a few months.’

Aziraphale felt his stomach drop. ‘Months?’

‘If he doesn't respond well to treatment, then yes.’

Aziraphale rubbed a hand over his temples. ‘Okay. Alright.’ He looked over at Crowley, eyes flitting to the shadows under his eyes and the tight, thin line of his mouth. ‘When will we be back?’

‘I’ll arrange for you to come in on Friday. If anything changes, we’ll let you know.’

‘How is the treatment going to work?’ Crowley asked.

The doctor considered. ‘The best course of action is most likely chemotherapy, as I said. After a while, we’ll check his progress and see if further action is required. Radiation, hormones and surgery may be options, but that's quite a way off yet.’ She smiled a little. "We'll do our best to get you better before you have to even consider any of that.’

‘Thank you,’ Crowley said quietly.

They stood and the doctor walked over to the door to open it for them. Just as they were leaving, she touched Crowley’s arm.

‘I’m not going to pretend the next few months are going to be easy, but it’s going to be okay. The doctors will do everything in our power to make it okay.’

Crowley forced a smile. ‘Thanks.’

She returned the smile and let them out, shutting the door behind them.

Walking through the corridor was surreal. Aziraphale felt as though he'd been dropped to the bottom of the ocean – all of a sudden, there was this enormous weight crushing down on him from all angles and the air had been punched right out of his lungs. The only thing he was really aware of was Crowley’s presence beside him; this constant thing that had always just been there. His head hurt at the idea of it being absent and he violently pushed the thought away, willing himself not to think like that.

They spoke very little on the taxi ride home. Aziraphale threw small worried glances at Crowley, watching him sit motionless, staring into space. His face betrayed nothing.

When they got home, Crowley shut the door behind him and walked straight into Aziraphale’s open arms. Aziraphale squeezed him tight, burying his face in Crowley’s shoulder, his hand rubbing small circles on Crowley’s back as they rocked gently from side to side. Crowley’s arms were vices – he held on for dear life, lips against Aziraphale’s shoulder, eyes closed. They stayed there for several minutes, not talking, but sharing the weight of the situation.

‘I love you,’ Aziraphale said quietly. ‘I know we don't say it very often, but I do. A lot. And I’m with you. I’m staying right here. That's not changing.’

He heard Crowley’s breath catch. ‘I know. And I love you.’

As they slept in Crowley’s bed that night, Crowley lay facing away from Aziraphale, his arms wrapped around himself. Aziraphale lay on his back, an arm over his face, mind buzzing.

Suddenly, at some point around midnight, Crowley turned to him and tapped on his shoulder.

‘I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking.’

Aziraphale rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Yeah, neither.’

‘Distract me.’

He opened his eyes, starting over at Crowley. ‘What?’

‘Distract me. Please,’ he said quietly, his tone growing more urgent as he slid his hands up Aziraphale’s shirt, tracing patterns on his chest. ‘Let's fuck. Come on. We’re not going to be able to for a while, and I want to think about anything but today.’

He hesitated. ‘I don't want to hurt you.’

Suddenly, Crowley was over him, in his face, staring straight at Aziraphale with eyes like hellfire. ‘If you start treating me like I’m made of glass, Aziraphale, I swear to God I will break both your legs.’

A breathy laugh came from him. ‘Alright, sorry.’

Afterwards, they lay curled around each other, close enough that Aziraphale could feel the quick beating of Crowley’s heart against his back as their breaths gradually slowed.

‘Thank you,’ Crowley murmured, shuffling closer so his head was buried in the back of Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale smiled a little as he felt a light kiss against his skin.

‘That's okay.’

‘I’m going to get through this,’ Crowley mumbled. ‘We’re going to be fine.’

Aziraphale nodded, because that was the only plausible outcome.

Everything would be fine.

-

On Thursday evening, they sat on Crowley’s bed with a suitcase, packing comfortable clothes into it.

It was a little surreal. The floor, usually scattered with discarded garments, was bare.

Suddenly, as Crowley was folding a hoodie, his head snapped up and he swore. ‘Shit. We’re going to have to tell them.’

Aziraphale frowned, confused. ‘Tell who?’

‘The fans, Aziraphale. I'm hardly going to be able to make videos.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Shit. I didn't want to have to. They’ll freak out.’

‘They care about you,’ Aziraphale reminded him.

‘Yes, but they’ll lose their minds over this. I'll be The Sick Guy. Everything will become about my situation.’ He grimaced, shaking his head. ‘I don't want that.’

Aziraphale thought for a moment. ‘You’re probably right, but you can't really avoid it now. They'll notice, one way or the other. It's that or completely drop off the Internet for several months.’ He shot Crowley a look, smiling. ‘And we both know that's not going to happen.’

‘No chance in hell,’ Crowley said, lying back on the bed. ‘Fuck it. I'll film it now. One take.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, why not. Can you get my light and my camera? They're just over –’

‘I know where they are.’

They quickly set up, Crowley clearing a space on the bed while Aziraphale dealt with the tripod and camera.

‘You ready?’ Aziraphale said, standing behind the camera.

Crowley nodded, taking a breath in. ‘Yeah. I'm ready. Go.’

Aziraphale turned the camera on.

‘Hello, Internet. So, this is a bit of a spontaneous video, and not one I ever really thought I’d have to make, but I need to talk about something important.

‘A lot of you probably know that I've not been feeling 100% these past few weeks. Well, I went to the doctors, and they did some tests, which came back… abnormal.’

Aziraphale watched him pause briefly, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

‘I got referred to the hospital. On Monday, I went there to get the results, and was told that I have leukaemia.’

His voice was steely, and Aziraphale felt himself crack a little.

‘It's… all been very intense. Everything feels like it’s happening fast forward. I'm going back into the hospital again on Friday – tomorrow – and I'll be staying there for a while, so unfortunately there aren't going to be many videos during that time. I'm really sorry.’ He smiled a little sadly. ‘I’m not going away, though. I'll be on Twitter lots – I expect I'll have a lot of free time to spend there – and Tumblr, so I'll keep you updated on things.

‘I know many of you probably have a lot of questions right now, but let me assure you of some things – I’m still me, I’m okay, and I'm not going to die. This is the way things are now, and the way things are is shit, but I’m going to get through it. It’s… not going to be easy, but we’ll manage. A lot of things are going to change, but I’m determined that it’ll be okay in the end. I’ll make it okay.’

He paused, then gestured for Aziraphale to come on camera. ‘Aziraphale’s here too. He’s going to help me.’

Aziraphale learned quickly into the shot, smiling and giving a small wave. ‘Hey, guys.’

‘Anyway, this was just a quick update so you guys know what’s up. Everything’s going to be fine. People beat cancer all the time – hell, I bet some of you have.’ He smiled, reaching for the camera. ‘Bye for now.’

He turned the camera off.

Aziraphale watched Crowley deflate.

‘Fucking hell,’ he murmured, lying back. ‘That was exhausting.’

‘Did it feel good?’ Aziraphale asked. ‘To say it, I mean.’

Crowley considered. ‘I guess so. Yeah, it did.’

They transferred the footage to Crowley’s laptop and put it into YouTube. Crowley’s finger stilled, the cursor hovering over the upload button.

‘The minute I clicked this,’ he murmured, ‘it's real. Everyone will know.’

Aziraphale looked over at him. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said quietly.

Crowley shook his head. ‘I do. And I want to. Let's just get it over with.’

He clicked the button, then sat back and let out a long breath.

‘There it goes.’

Aziraphale rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder, and they watched the chaos unfold.

-

I can't believe this I hope he's alright #GetWellSoonCrowley

im crying there's too many what ifs please let him be okay #GetWellSoonCrowley

guys please remember he probably wants space, let's support him but not make a huge deal of it, he's still the same #GetWellSoonCrowley

nononononononono this can't be happening #GetWellSoonCrowley

he's going to pull through I just know it #GetWellSoonCrowley

we’re with you no matter what #GetWellSoonCrowley

-

The hospital was a maze, and smelled of an unsavoury combination of sickness and sanitizer.

They walked through the Oncology unit, Aziraphale carrying Crowley’s small suitcase. A receptionist had put a paper band around Crowley’s wrist, with his name and age on it. He twisted it round and round on his arm, fiddling absently. He was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie – distinctly different to what Aziraphale was used to him wearing outside. He hadn’t even bothered with his hair. It marked the first change, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Crowley also had a mask. Thin white material over his mouth and nose, like the kind Aziraphale had seen doctors wear. The receptionist had explained that it was to protect the patients with weak immune systems. Patients like Crowley.

They sat in a small waiting area for a few minutes, waiting for someone called Dr. Hunt. The only other people there were a young girl and her mother, both in masks; the daughter’s one was dotted with stickers. The little girl, asleep against her mother’s arm, had patchy hair and a tube winding from a small bag, up behind her ear and into one side of her nose. Aziraphale did his best not to stare.

The mother made eye contact with him and her eyes crinkled with a slight smile. Aziraphale noted how exhausted she looked – dark bags under her eyes, pale cheeks, hard lines across her face like they'd been carved into clay with a needle.

‘Is this your first time here?’ she asked.

Aziraphale looked up ‘Yeah. It feels… a bit crazy.’

She laughed. ‘I know how you feel. I was you with my daughter last year, except I can see you’re probably not his dad.’

Crowley smiled. ‘Definitely not.’

‘I’m Lillian, by the way. This is Andrea,’ she gestured to her sleeping daughter.

‘I’m Crowley. This is Aziraphale,’ Crowley spoke up. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘If you don't mind me asking, which one of you is…?’ she trailed off, hesitating.

Crowley raised his hand slightly. ‘Me. Leukaemia.’

She nodded. ‘I thought so, but I didn't want to say in case I offended you.’

Crowley laughed. ‘It's fine, I know I look like shi—’

Aziraphale elbowed him, nodding sharply to the little girl.

‘— terrible.’

Lillian chuckled, then looked down at her daughter. ‘Andrea has Hodgkin’s. She's close to finishing chemo, now. Just one more month, and we should be in remission.’ Her hand stroked the little girl’s feathery hair.

‘That's great,’ Aziraphale said.

At that moment, a tall woman with a severe face and a scarf wrapped into a neat knot around her hair walked in.

‘Mr. Crowley?’

Crowley stood with Aziraphale.

The doctor nodded at them and gave a smile. ‘Hello. I am Dr. Hunt; I'll be overseeing your treatment here, Mr. Crowley. Do you prefer Anthony or Crowley?’

‘Crowley, please.’

‘Perfect. Please follow me – we’ve got your bed ready just down the ward.’

They went to follow her out of the room. Lillian spoke quietly to Aziraphale as he passed.

‘You’re in good hands – she's brilliant. A little intimidating at first, but brilliant.’

Aziraphale smiled genuinely at her. ‘Thanks.’

They followed Hunt down through the ward, past several people in chairs or beds, hooked up to IVs. Some cubicles were closed off with thin blue paper curtains. The people were mostly elderly, with the exceptions of a girl as young as Andrea and a teenage boy with a beanie pulled over his bare scalp. Aziraphale’s eye caught a wizened old man, thin as a rail, sitting in a wheelchair with an elderly woman next to him. Her hand covered his, their fingers overlapping.

Aziraphale looked away, focusing on Crowley walking just ahead of him. He was hyper-aware of the eyes on their backs.

At Crowley’s spot, a middle-aged nurse sat him down and pulled the curtains shut around his bed, explaining what was going to happen as she prepared a catheter with a needle on the end. Aziraphale suppressed a smile at the disgusted look Crowley was giving the needle.

‘Hi, Crowley. I’m Mary, I'll be helping out during your treatment along with Adam here.’ She gestured to the male nurse in the corner of the cubicle. ‘You’ll be receiving a chemotherapy drug called cytarabine – we call it ara-C – through a central line in your chest. It’ll –’

‘Wait – through my chest?’ Crowley said apprehensively. ‘Won't that… hurt?’

Mary laughed. ‘Just a little bit, when it goes in. It's only going into a vein – not into your heart, or anything. Don't worry.’

Crowley nodded. He didn't look convinced.

‘I’m going to have to ask you to take your shirt off, now. You can have it back on afterwards.’ She looked over uncertainty at Aziraphale, then back to Crowley. ‘Is he okay to stay, or…?’

‘No, he's fine,’ Crowley said, sending Aziraphale an apologetic smile.

Crowley pulled his shirt over his head and Aziraphale winced at the sight of the blotchy bruises. They had turned greyish in colour, and dotted his stomach, which had lost a good deal of its softness. His ribs showed a little on the side.

Aziraphale watched as the nurse cleaned a patch on the left side of Crowley’s chest, tapping it a few times until a blue vein showed through his pale skin. Crowley’s mouth tightened as she picked up the needle and he turned towards Aziraphale, head down, eyes squeezed shut.

‘I absolutely hate needles. It doesn't even hurt that much, it's just –’ the catheter went in and he sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying wide open, ‘– shit, I take that back, it hurts like a bitch –’

‘Crowley, there are kids here,’ Aziraphale murmured, trying to laugh. The nurses were laughing as they taped over the entry point of the catheter, hooking the wires hanging off it up to the drip next to the bed.

‘It's been a while since we’ve had a mouthy one,’ the nurse called Adam commented. ‘The old guy down there, Charlie – he would turn the air black with it when he first came in. He's not quite as perky anymore, but oh boy did he put up a good fight the other day when I tried to change his central line. He hates it.’

Aziraphale smiled a little as Adam spoke about the old man with affection. If all the nurses were like this, Crowley’s stay might not be too unbearable for him. Even so, it troubled him a little to think of Crowley being here long enough to make friends with the staff; he just wanted him at home.

A thought suddenly occurred to him and he looked up. ‘Am I allowed to stay here with him?’ he asked Mary.

She shook her head sympathetically, fiddling with a dial on Crowley’s IV. ‘Sorry, love. There's not enough space, and we’ve got to be really cautious around sanitation. A minor infection could be fatal to some of the people here. You can visit, though.’

Aziraphale nodded, exchanging a look with Crowley. Sorry.

The flat would feel strange tonight.

‘Okay. We’ve got the drip going; it’ll be on for about two hours.’ Adam said. ‘Your treatment program is going to consist of ten days of receiving the drug, then five days rest, then another cycle. Do you have any questions? About side effects, or anything?’

Crowley hesitated, then nodded. ‘What’s going to happen? How am I going to feel?’

Mary leaned on the bed, facing Crowley in his chair. ‘Most patients experience some fatigue; you're going to be really tired for quite a while. Nausea is also common, and some get mouth sores. You might feel dizzy, too.’ Her mouth twisted sympathetically. ‘Your hair will probably start to fall out around day fifteen.’

Crowley looked down, hand automatically going to his hair. A curl fell in his face and he brushed it away, fingertips lingering slightly on it.

The nurses left shortly after, keeping the curtains closed; Crowley preferred it that way. He sat in silence, pulling his hoodie back over his head. The wires hung out the hem, curling across his lap. He looked down at them, his nose wrinkling slightly.

‘There's a cold spot in my chest. I can feel my vein,’ he murmured.

‘That's so weird.’

‘Mhm.’

A brief pause.

‘Aziraphale?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I just remembered. We aren't going to be able to… do anything for a while. We won't even be able to sleep together.’

Aziraphale chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Is that really what's on your mind?’

‘What’s supposed to be on my mind?’ Crowley shot back.

‘I don't know. Probably not your libido, though.’

‘Better that than my imminent death,’ he muttered.

Aziraphale’s head jerked up and he stared at Crowley. ‘Don't talk like that.’

Crowley shrugged. ‘Kidding.’

Aziraphale looked down again, brushing phantom lint off his jeans. ‘You’re not going to die.’

‘Hope not.’

‘You aren't.’

‘I know.’

‘I won't let you,’ Aziraphale said, one corner of his mouth quivering a little. ‘You’re not allowed to.’

Crowley laughed. ‘Alright.’

-

Aziraphale left at nine in the evening – the latest he could push staying to.

Walking through the Underground alone felt odd. Usually, when he was somewhere without Crowley, he'd know that he was going back home to him. This was different – it felt strange – like he was abandoning him somehow.

He thought of him lying in the hospital bed, curtains pulled shut, nose buried in one of the books he'd brought with him, or maybe scrolling through something on his phone. Perhaps he was asleep already.

When he got home, his phone buzzed with a text from Crowley.

it’s so boring here

He chuckled.

-They should hire a clown to come in and entertain or something

fuck no I’d shit myself

He smiled to himself, sending a row of clown emojis. Crowley sent back a middle finger.

-You should sleep

He sent the message, staring at the screen, watching the three dots appear as Crowley typed. It was absurd, but the texting made him miss him more.

I'm not tired

-You will be if you don't sleep!!

it's like 10pm

-You’re sick

He regretted sending that immediately.

No. You don't pull that shit on me. Not you too

-Sorry. Bad choice of words

whatever it's all cool

Fuck. He was annoyed.

-I’m sorry Crowley

I said it's fine

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

-Hope you sleep well

-See you tomorrow x

Waiting for the reply seemed to take forever, and when it came, he could almost hear the resignation in Crowley’s tone.

see you tomorrow

-

Nine days passed where Crowley insisted he felt mostly fine.

Then, on a Sunday, it started.

By the time Aziraphale arrived at the hospital, Crowley was pale and shivery and lay curled in his bed, arms wrapped around his middle. Adam was standing over him, trying to ask him something.

Aziraphale hurried over. ‘Is he okay? What’s wrong?’

Adam sighed. ‘Chemo side effects are starting; he's been ill all night. It had to happen eventually. There's not much we can do, except give him painkillers and anti-emetics.’ He looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale as he left. ‘I've seen this a thousand times before. It's going to be rough.’

Aziraphale nodded, walking around the bed and sitting down beside Crowley. He hesitated uncertainty, before reaching out to touch Crowley’s shoulder.

‘Hey. You okay?’

Crowley groaned and rolled onto his back, teeth clenched with nausea. He opened his eyes a little; they were dull with exhaustion.

‘Have you slept?’ Aziraphale asked gently.

Crowley shook his head slightly, then suddenly sat bolt upright. ‘Gonna throw up.’

Aziraphale swore, calling for a nurse, looking around desperately for something to catch it in. He wasn't fast enough; Crowley doubled forward over the edge of the bed, clutching his stomach. A strained noise clawed its way up his throat and he heaved, vomiting onto the floor. Aziraphale stepped quickly out of the way, sitting down on the bed, rubbing Crowley’s back, speaking softly to him as he coughed and shook and spluttered. The rancid smell reached him and he grimaced, trying determinedly not to breathe through his nose.

Adam came hurrying back in with Dr. Hunt tailing him, a bucket in his hands. He handed it to Crowley and spoke quickly into the radio in his hand, asking for a cleaner. Crowley sank backwards onto the pillows, eyes closed, his arm wrapped loosely around the bucket. His face was a sickly shade of greyish green.

A cleaner came and swept up the mess, disinfecting the floor until Aziraphale coughed a little at the toxic odour. He sat beside Crowley, head in one of his hands, holding Crowley’s hand with the other.

Crowley opened his eyes a little, looking around the room. They flicked over Aziraphale and Adam and Dr. Hunt before settling on the ceiling, staring straight ahead.

‘I thought I'd feel better after that,’ he mumbled. ‘But I don't.’

Aziraphale looked down at his lap, not sure of what to say.

‘This is how it’s going to be now, isn't it?’ Crowley murmured. ‘It's only going to get worse. That's just how it is.’

For a moment no one said anything, then Dr. Hunt spoke up. ‘You finish your first cycle of chemo tomorrow, Crowley. You’ll be able to go home for a bit.’

Crowley muttered something, throwing an arm over his face.

‘Sorry?’

‘I said that's not going to change the fact that I feel like shit!’ he snapped hoarsely. ‘I've been up all night wanting to puke and thinking about everything. This is how it is, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I go through a few months of feeling like death or I actually die.’ He laughed humorlessly. ‘Go figure.’

‘You aren't going to die,’ Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked over at him and opened his mouth as though he was going to speak, then seemed to decide against it. He directed his gaze back at the ceiling.

‘I know.’

-

The minute they got home, Crowley collapsed on the couch and pulled a pillow over his face.

‘Jesus Christ, it’s good to be home.’

Aziraphale smiled, dumping Crowley’s bag at the door. ‘It's been weird having you gone. It happens sometimes, when you go away, but I never quite get used to it.’

‘Good. I'd be pissed if you didn't miss me.’

‘Well, I do, so shut up,’ Aziraphale rallied.

‘Don't be mean to the dying guy.’

‘You’re not dying.’ Aziraphale shook his head. ‘Drama queen.’

‘Fuck off.’

Crowley looked out from under his arm, staring in distaste at his bag. ‘They gave me enough pills to sink a boat. The next few days are going to be lit.’

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, laughing.

‘We should have a party. Invite everyone. We’ll play drum and bass music and trip out on co-coda-whatever-the-fuck-it's-called.’

Aziraphale fished the box out of the front pocket of the bag, reading the text on the back. His eyebrows raised. ‘It says it's ‘highly addictive’.’

Crowley grinned. ‘Even better.’

They slept in Crowley’s bed that night, cuddling lazily for an hour or so before Crowley suddenly turned sheet white, threw up in the sink and passed out.

Aziraphale sighed, feeling Crowley’s arm tighten around his waist as he slept, the quick, steady thudding of his heart beating against Aziraphale’s back. Aziraphale became hyper-aware of it, counting each beat, unconsciously syncing his breath with it. It was strong and regular and he couldn't quite fathom how it could be pumping death around his body, slowly killing him from the inside out.

He covered Crowley’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers and closing his eyes, trying to focus on the distinctly alive feeling of Crowley’s breath against his shoulder.

-

On their last day before Crowley went back into hospital, they spent the entire day on the sofa, re-watching Planet Earth II.

Crowley lay with his head on a pillow in Aziraphale’s lap, a blanket pulled over his body, only half awake. A bucket sat on the floor beside him; it had become his almost constant companion.

Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s red hair, playing with it absently, very invested in the story of a plague of locusts travelling across a country.

Aziraphale frowned – something was tickling his arm. He looked down.

Froze.

His hands were full of strands of Crowley’s hair.

He let out a shaky breath, carefully plucking a dark curl off his arm. There wasn't a huge amount, but it was enough to scare him, and he could see a small patch of scalp on Crowley’s head.

‘Oh, no,’ he murmured, not sure whether to move his hands. ‘Crowley, your hair.’

Crowley shifted sleepily, then suddenly stiffened. His hand flew to his head and he threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged gently. Several chunks came away in his hand. He stilled, staring at them.

‘Oh.’

Aziraphale bit his lip.

‘That’s… new.’

They dumped the strands in the bin. Crowley had his hands shoved determinedly in his pockets, resisting the temptation to run his hands through his hair.

‘If I brush it or wash it it's just going to fall out,’ he said emotionlessly.

Aziraphale didn't reply.

Crowley cracked his knuckles, staring at the pieces of his own hair amongst the juice cartons and wrappers and tissues. ‘I’m not ready.’ He pa

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Ruby: Hey, Dr. Polendina I have a question.

Pietro: Ask Away! I'm always happy to Answer.

Ruby: Why did you make Penny a faunus Especially in a place like Atlas?

Pietro: Well, letting her fly made her more capable in fights! We could've had it be an outer Rig, something easily removable, but I enjoyed the extra challenge!

Pietro: And ... I was inspired by someone I cared about an awful lot. He was the first to begin developing Aura Transfer technology, though his specialty was in developing new types of dust.

Pietro: Part of that was going to natural deposits and testing the viability of opening new mines, or seeing if there were any naturally occurring combinations.

Pietro: ... Celestine Faring. We loved each other a lot. We had plans on adopting kids one day, but after his death I was declared unfit to take care of children ...

Ruby: So you built Penny? What did he look like?

Pietro: Here. A photo. Don't Drop it.

The Photo was of a pale adult man, Large insectoid wings coming off of his back, Ginger hair standing out against his Blue eyes and clothing style as is traditional to atlas.

Pietro: You can see where I got her traits from him. His hair, wings, and being a bit on the thin side.

Ruby: She got your freckles, and liking of green?

Pietro: Exactly.

Ruby: ... If you don't mind me asking ... What happened to him?

Pietro: ... *He glances to the ground*

Maria: ... Ruby ... There is an important lesson I've been scared of teaching you, if I even could.

Maria: No matter how skilled you are, no matter what mastery of your eyes you have, You can still make mistakes. You can be overconfident.

Maria: You make promises to people, and when you make too many...

Maria: ... Some fall through the cracks. You get cocky and miss the important things.

Ruby: ...

Pietro: ... Maria -

Maria: Ruby, I need you to promise me you never, ever get caught up in your own head, in the belief you can do no wrong. If you do Someone isn't going to make it home. That someone might be you.

Ruby: I know.

She brushed her hand across the emblem she inherited from Summer.

Ruby: I know.

God, the (Sh)Arc Au might just become the "More Characters are Faunus" AU

I dunno If I'm going to make Firefly Penny Canon, but it's very tempting.

(Also someone figure out the Meaning behind Celestine Faring PLEASE!)

[sboochi]

I have a few questions about your Big Four Au!

One - What are the guardians doing while Jack is missing, and especially Baby Tooth and Jamie? Is Baby Tooth there accompanying him or is he all alone? Is Pitch making any moves now that he knows Jack is gone and the guardians are all distracted?

Two - How does Queen For a Day play out? Since Jack is the embodiment of winter, him versus Zhan Tiri’s blizzard, maybe instead of the invention, he’s the one to overpower the storm and control it to defeat it? And if so, does that cause him to pass out like when he overused his blue lightning powers on Pitch and that’s what distracts the Big Four from checking in on Varian?

Three - How does Jack get home at the end? Does the combining of the moonstone and Sundrop shooting up into space being him back, like does that huge magic force being him back to his timeline like he’s a shooting star flying along with the celestial powers? And what’s the fate for his friends back in Corona? Do they stay in touch? Do people remember Jack? Is there a chance for them to always be connected or does he lose them forever and they forget about him, or like when the Sundrop flower was picked, is there a monument in honor of him after he vanishes?

Oooo so many questions ty!!

While Jack is gone, the Guardians are probably scrambling to find him, Jamie included. I've always headcanoned that after his defeat, Pitch is much weaker and can't attack them for a good while. Baby Tooth doesn't follow Jack, this is gonna be a solo journey!

Jack arrives in Corona after he follows a trail of black rocks that lead him to a magic portal. I figure something similar might happen in the end: his job there is done and the Moon allows him to go back home.

This is a place and time where magic is more present, that's why people can see him. Dunno if this contradicts canon RotG lore *shrugs*

So when he leaves, people will remember him. The story would leave it vague if Jack and the others will ever see each other again, but if magic portals can just appear, nothing says it can't happen again right??

The Corona people would absolutely make a statue to celebrate The Four, because I'm cheesy like that lol

Queen for a Day headcanons under the cut because I have A Lot to say!

Varian gets his father Quirin to agree to go express their concerns about the black rocks to the royal family

However, when Quirin lies to the king and starts to leave, Rapunzel and friends notice how distressed Varian looks. He tells them that the rocks are becoming a serious problem at the village. They tell him not to worry and Rapunzel promises him that they'll solve the problem together. Eventually. These rocks are hard to figure out guys.

The king and queen leave to go celebrate their anniversary on the mountain retreat

The scene where Rapunzel tries her best to give advice to the Coronians (??) plays like in the show, but here she makes the "oh god I hope I'll be a good ruler like my parents when I actually become queen" to her friends (Eugene still gets his own scene with her at the end like in the show so don't worry)

She asks Merida for advice - "since you're also a princess right?" - but she just shrugs and says she never listens to her mother's ruling lessons and can't help with this. They all look at Hiccup bc they know he's a future chief too, but he says something vague and changes subject (foreshadowing for when it's revealed he's running away from responsibilities)

The blizzard begins, but after the initial fun, it's clear that this is no ordinary storm. Jack tries to make it stop but he fails (he doesn't faint bc he got more powerful after becoming a Guardian)

Varian starts making a potion to destroy the rocks

Rapunzel's parents get stuck on the way to the mountains. When the gang finds out, Rapunzel wants to go find them but the castle staff begs her to stay. Eugene, Lance, the thugs - and Merida! - go instead

Quirin gets trapped in the crystal and Varians runs to Corona to get help

Xavier tells the gang about the legendary machine once used to stop a similar storm. They compromise and start evacuating people from the island to mainland, supervised by Jack, while Rapunzel and Cass get ready to start searching for the machine

Varian arrives and asks for help. With Merida and Jack away, Rapunzel has to decide between searching a possible solution to the storm or going to the village and lose precious time. Hiccup reassures her and agrees to follow Varian, but Varian won't forget this (oof)

You know what happens next: the girls find the machine, the storm stops, the others rescue the king and queen, yadda yadda

Hiccup and Varian fail to free Quirin and Varian swears that he'll get revenge on Rapunzel for abandoning him (Hiccup just. looks around awkwardly. because this is a villain arc in the making right?? uh i probably should leave yikes)

Comfort scene I was talking about before with Rapunzel and Eugene (the cupcake one)

[princedetectives]

you know, ive never actually talked about my detective princes au much here. the main idea is pretty simple: naoto moves to tokyo around the 2nd or 3rd palace of P5R to do his own investigation. i think he'd pretty quickly catch on to something fishy happening with the thieves, right? since he has experience in supernatural world shenanigans, after the inaba murders.

i could talk about it for so long but to keep this post from being practically a fanfiction, i'll keep the point on this — through the investigation he mainly works with akechi, and after everything is over, i always love to think they move back to inaba together. like his own rehabilitation, mirroring akira's.

honestly, it's mostly because... i don't know, akechi instantly coming back to the thieves after p5 just seems strange to me? i think it's very out of character for both him and them. i definitely think he'd talk to some of them after some time, but they would need a lot of distance. some recovery for both groups is more than needed. (but to be fair, i imagine them believing akechi is dead through this time, so i don't know how much it'd actually help LMAO)

but i digress. i admit it'd take a lot for this to work too. problem 1: naoto would definitely know everything akechi's done at this point — why in the world would he forgive a mass murderer and bring him back to his hometown? problem 2: on akechi's side, why would HE agree to this? if royal proved anything, it's that if akechi lives at all, he believes he should repent for his crimes, and running away is hardly repenting. (huge emphasis on the if he lives at all.)

i have thought about this! solution 1: maybe i'm crazy, but i do think naoto would see the gray area in akechi. he isn't like the inaba murderer, who was childishly bitter with the world around him for little reason. i'm not saying he wouldn't be mad at akechi at all, he absolutely would, but i think he would kind of get it. it's a detective prince thing: i think they just have that ability to see through each other in a lot of ways. a kind of "they understand each other more than anyone else could". that's my favorite thing about them, i think. because they really are kinda similar. their circumstances changed them, for better or for worse. especially with the kind of bonding i imagine they did over the span of his stay in tokyo, i imagine naoto would be hesitant to throw that away so easily. (in this scenario, naoto would have moved to tokyo on his own after staying in inaba with friends for a few years. he still isn't the greatest at making new friends, so of course he'd like someone who already stands on common ground with him, another detective prince. and it would just grow from there.)

but akechi is a murderer. what if he did something horrible in inaba? this is probably a silly concern knowing akechi like we do, but i imagine it'd be a real one for naoto, or at least the investigation team. solution 1.5: i think he'd be able to trust him. akechi committed his crimes working for shido, and with him gone, he'd have no motive to do anything. that's important, especially for a detective. he also did everything through the metaverse (which would be gone) and was repulsed at seeing the effects in the real world (remember the scene where he almost pukes at the sight of okumura? now that i think about it, that's actually a kinda funny comparison to the inaba murderer who i havent been naming because p4 spoilers are unnecessary but you probably know them. anyway,)

moreover, the fact that naoto is placed in the p5 storyline here... it means this would be the second time he's seen the world almost end. can you imagine what that would do to someone. i think he'd value lives a little more, i dunno.

solution 2: honestly, i can't think of many reasons akechi would accept, other than simply the strength of that bond winning out. which is lovely and all, yeah i definitely think he would appreciate naoto after it's all said and done, eventually, but ive thought of one more option and it's cooler to me: a duel. he's really competitive (they both are). a battle with such high stakes would surely interest him. you know how he wanted so badly to see akira go all out? this would give that to him, not for akira, but for someone he respects deeply, a huge role model for him. the idea of that is DELICIOUS. they would duel, akechi would lose and hold up his end of the deal. (by the way, i imagine this taking place while the phantom thieves are fighting yaldabaouth)

but, above all, after all of that, just... the idea of akechi finally getting to rest is really nice. away from much of the spotlight in such a small town, with someone who understands him and wants him around, i think it'd be really healing for him. we all know he needs it. it'd be a transitional period for sure — a time of peace before he returns to fulfill his promise to akira.

[yanyyogurt]

Brainrotting how to write the Voldemort Wins AU for Dramione month, when this plot bunny came in.

What if Draco and Hermione were cellmates? And they learn about each other in prison, and they plot their escape!

The question now is - how does this happen LOL. Lord of Plot Bunnies possess me please.

Snippet --

She was struggling real hard from the man’s grip on her shoulders. There were so many of them now that Hermione didn’t know the name of the wizard that had caught her. The Dark Lord’s supporters were like mice that bided their time until Voldemort was restored, and despite their numbers, they knew most of those who were on the side of the good, Harry’s side. They’ve rounded up everyone involved actively in the war, as far as Hermione knew, and now, anyone who wasn’t pureblood was fair game for them as well. “Oy, gotcha this lil lady running away when I caught her by Diagon Alley,” the nameless wizard spoke, his voice low and raspy as he talked to the idle guard positioned by the entrance of the cell. She was blindfolded and held by a stunning spell as they Apparated to the prison, which seemed like a regular-looking one, the one you’d see on Muggle television. Not that Hermione’s ever been to any wizard prisons, but she knew the place, while ordinary, was surely bewitched to prevent escape. It wasn’t no Azkaban though. Not yet, Hermione thought. It would only be a matter of time before she would join Ron, Ginny, Neville, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the rest of the Order in Azkaban where they were kept. Those active participants in the war, especially someone like her, would definitely be kept in such maximum security. But for now, she was Abigail Una, a random Muggleborn, graduate of Hogwarts under House Hufflepuff and worked in Diagon Alley as a shopkeeper selling second-hand books and parchment. She knew someone was following her when she was about to escape Diagon Alley. The Dark Lord and his minions had marked the place and made Disapparating out of the town impossible, still she was there trying to scavenge what remained of the shops for some last resources she could muster before going into hiding, maybe planning a rescue and resistance if she were to find any more like her who would have escaped. Her deft reflexes were able to warn her to take a swig of the Polyjuice Potion she had brewed and always kept when out and about, hidden by her sock. She was glad that the wizard who caught her was stupid enough to only get her small bag and not check her with a spell that would reveal what she had in her person. So that was the only thing Hermione was able to bring into prison, aside from the clothes on her back. And that was already a great deal, as there’s been a manhunt out for her. “What’s her name?” The guard conjured up a list to check. He didn’t seem too old, Hermione thought. He looked a bit like Stan Shunpike in age and hair, but when he drawled and yawned, she saw the traces of gunk and yellow in his teeth, indicating he might be older than he looked. “Dunno, she won’t speak.” The guard waved his wand as the list vanished and said, “Don’t matter, this ain’t her. That girl that was with Potter’s still at large.” “Then what do we do with this?” The other man roughly yanked her by the sleeve of her blouse. “Stick her in that cell there, that last one, everything else’s full,” the guard pointed to the farthest one. There were only three cells in this block, and she shuddered to think why it was so quiet when it was supposedly full. She ain’t on the list, and she ain’t one of ours, so just dump her there. We’ll know what to do with her later on.” And so that’s where Hermione found herself in a random Muggle-like prison, deemed unimportant but criminal enough to be held captive. Which begged the question as to why Draco Malfoy was sitting across from her in the cell, when in Voldemort’s world, he would be neither.

[lxkeeeee]

Intoxicated Yet Sober Thoughts [Xiao x GN! Reader]

↬ play “Wish You Were Sober” by Conan Gray

↬ mentions of alcohol/liquor usage. Also mentions depression. Modern AU and Short Drabble

"Archons, Why am I here? Just to suffer?" Xiao mutters, his face scrunched in disgust as the smell of alcohol hits his nose. The music loud and blasting, colorful lights blinding to the eye. His amber eyes scanning the room filled with people.

He would do anything to be back on his dorm right now.

"You're no fun Xiao~! I had to drag your ass here!" Venti yelled, voice barely heard by Xiao due to the loud music. Xiao rolled his eyes, as he crossed his arms.

"You've been in your room for god knows how long, I can smell the depression from miles away." Venti pouted as he jokingly slaps Xiao's back, the latter just grunting in annoyance.

"Why did you brought me here Venti?" Xiao asked as he raised an eyebrow at the other male, the latter just giving him a small "ehe~"

"I thought that you need a break from I dunno? Moping around? Take your mind off them for awhile? Drink alcohol and have fun~!"

Xiao's heart ached, Venti mentioning them stirred something in him.

Xiao knows he fucked up. Big time.

Xiao let in a deep sighed, "Fine, I'll stay for a few minutes, I still have some papers to finish." He says and Venti cheered.

"Got It~! Also, the other's are here too~" Venti cooed and Xiao raised an eyebrow before hearing familiar voices.

"Venti! Xiao! Over here!"

Both male's turned to where the voice came and saw their gang—Hu Tao, Beidou, Kazuha, Aether, Yanfei, Childe, and Yelan.

Xiao sighed, maybe a few drinks won't hurt right?

The gang was laughing, having a great time. Despite barely hearing each other due to the loud music playing.

"—Then I punched her in the face! I don't tolerate hurting women but she was an absolute bitch" Childe said and the other's gasped.

"Slay kingggg" Hu Tao cheered and the other's laughed.

"She sounded horrible, I say she deserved it." Kazuha nodded as he took a sip of the cup of alcohol in his hand.

Aether was looking around and Venti noticed the blond looking around nervously, "What are you looking for Aether?" Venti asked as he chugged down a bottle of wine, god no one knows where he got it.

"Do you guys know where Xiao went?" Aether asked.

Venti hummed in a thinking manner, "He went back to the table to get more drinks." He answered, relaxing his body into the couch, relaxing and stretching his muscles.

"When did he leave?" The blond asked, obviously concerned for his extremely wasted friend.

"About... Ten minutes ago" Venti said, starting to feel a little tipsy, his eyes widened with realization.

"Oh shit." All of them muttered, they were listening to the two's convo.

An extremely wasted and also heartbroken man is missing.

That can't be good.

Xiao was absolutely wasted.

He doesn't know where he is but he swears the hallway looks oddly familiar.

His mind can barely grasp his surroundings, thoughts are hazy from the liquor.

His body stumbled in each step, he can already feel a headache forming.

Damn you Venti, I blame you for this. He thought in annoyance.

His skin felt hot, his eyes can barely focus.

The hallways felts so long and unending, he swore he's been walking the same place for more than 30 minutes.

It's actually only 10 minutes walking the hallway, the hallway of the dorms.

Specifically, [y/n]'s floor.

Xiao doesn't know that though, he pressed the wrong button in the elevator.

His steps making small clicking sounds against the marble tiled flooring.

His steps halted when he saw a familiar number on the door.

Room 707

Xiao's breath hitched, he can feel himself starting to sober up.

He should walk away, pretend that he didn't come in this floor.

He wanted to, but knowing that his ex is behind the door.

Maybe it's the alcohol talking, yeah it's the alcohol.

Xiao wanted to see them again, be in their arms again.

Ask for forgiveness for what he did.

Before he knew it, his hand came contact with the wooden door. Three knocks. The door opens.

"Xiao?" The person called out, "Archons, you reek of alcohol."

--- | next chapter

[nazuna-tunnel-vision]

I saw your tags and I wanna say RitsuMao (I think that's the ship?) is the perfect ship for hanahaki in the way which you described.

Also, interestingly enough, I have written a hanahaki fic from the person who is on the receiving end of the crush, in a frustrated "why can't I return the feeling???" And not wanting to lose the friendship way.

So anyway I think that's a great angle to pursue and it's very big brain of you.

YESS thank you for the validation, this AU has been eating at my brains for a year but i'm just not very good at writing actual stories rather than just analysis so. it stayed in my brain.

yeah it is ritsumao and oh boy ritsumao with the flower actually removed would be a riot. they're childhood friends and so much of their identities are rooted in the relationship, so losing the relationship would destabilise the both of them so much.

to Make Things Worse ☺️✌️ in my AU, i made the surgery remove memories related to the person altogether rather than just feelings (although tbh it's also bc i never quite understood how you can "remove feelings" without fundamentally making the memory stop making sense. aren't memories a key way in which people make sense of the world and remember things?)

and this makes the story veer into exploring how one's memories and relationships with others kind of. makes you who you are. which a lot of hanahaki stories don't really explore.

that means ritsu just Forgets about mao and loses years worth of accumulated memories and self-narratives about how he became who he was. how did he manage rei's broken promise, who did he cling to? apart from chasing after rei, who made him want to 'enter the sunlight'? post-surgery ritsu would be a very different and a very confused person.

and considering how so much of their relationship was Just The Two Of Them (thanks ritsu), mao would have no one who shares so many of his memories. they'll probably find random trinkets all over their houses that either only mao or neither of them remembers the significance of. some matching keychains they got from an event. a pen with one of those plastic jewels that's the colour of mao's eyes, which ritsu used to like a lot but now just throws it away bc it's out of ink. maybe some random thing of mao's that ritsu stole when he was 6 because of some convoluted reasoning and jealousy, and which he never returned. and when they rediscover it mao is like "wtf i've been trying to find it for YEARS, why do you have this," and ritsu can only reply with "i dunno."

mao also can no longer use ritsu for the. to give himself self-esteem in his role as someone ritsu needs, or whatever codependent shit they have going on. he'll just have that pretty important aspect of the maintenance of his identity and self-image ripped from him because the flower is arophobic.

i just think ritsumao with the hanahaki surgery would just be rly tragic bc rtmo are the kind of friends who would want more than anything and who would do everything they can to ensure the other stays in their lives. or rather, they've been with each other for so long that they also don't actually need to bend over backwards to maintain their relationship. even when something does happen, i think they generally understand each other and value the other enough to resolve things sooner rather than later.

i think the both of them would choose not to have the hanahaki development in the first place if it meant that they could continue as they have always been. ritsu would never want to guilt trip mao with hanahaki (!! era at least, and not to make mao actually feel like shit for longer than a few hours at most). and mao would want to give ritsu what he wants as is usual but be unable to. so they're both absolutely miserable! falls face flat on ground.

anyway i can't believe i rambled this much but. after writing all that out i read that fic you wrote and. slams fist on wall and cries, you get it!!!!!! i don't know a thing about these two but oughhhhh. !!!!!!

(for anyone else who has somehow read to this point and who also has brainworms for Best Friend with Hanahaki, read it here before i spoil it below with my quoting)

the way Hak's first reaction is to do everything he can to solve things and his fear of losing 12 years of friendship. 12 years of memories. Their entire lives together. That was the price of getting it removed. while Soowon goes “But what if you find someone you have feelings for?” Soowon asked, “it’s not really fair for you to be bound to me this way.” and “Love” was too heavy a word to impose upon his friend

ohhhh my god. oh my god. It frustrated Hak, every time Soowon coughed up another flower and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t make it stop. Why couldn’t he make it stop?

it's the mutual love and care for the other!!!! screaming.

and the way Soowon just slowly fades away and Hak's heart breaks watching it happen. The way Hak finally says "I love you" and the way Soowon says "I know" and yet it doesn't do a thing because the flower is stupid and only cares about romantic love.

euggg this dynamic of hanahaki is really so interesting and real. i'm so glad you brought up your fic bc i have been trying for so long to find a hanahaki story like this. i get that the hanahaki haver's POV of keeping the illness and their feelings is dramatic and heartwrenching and all, but at the end of the day it's more or less just a more dramatised version of their already existing pining. the perspective of the one being loved, and of two friends trying and failing to save their relationship, is so unexplored in comparison. like these stories would require some very healthy, open communication, and yet somehow that is still not enough and that otherwise perfect relationship gets destroyed

[shamera]

NaNo day 16

so previously i said fdb video game isekai since i was having a block with the time loop story but still need words

i lied. fbd modern hunter awakening au instead. in honour of solo levelling coming out next month. i have. an idea. dunno how far it will go, but i got pretty excited to write this today, so that's a win for me.

Man'er cameo, i'm so sorry to her. tw for blood and injuries, i guess. nothing fatal yet.

Fang Duobing still had his head in his hands when the loud thwack of files dropped right next to him, vibrating the office table. 

“No,” he whined, already knowing exactly who it was that would do such a thing to him when he very obviously didn’t want to be bothered. If the ‘do not disturb’ sign he’d written and taped to the door hadn’t been the largest indication, him being the president’s son with the corner office that he didn’t even want would have been a deterrent for people to talk to him in the first place. 

“I heard you tried joining Baichuan Court again,” his aunt’s annoying voice cut in. She sounded smug, and also right next to him, which was where she leaned when she was mocking him. “Don’t you already know you’re not going to make it in?”

“You shut up,” Fang Duobing mumbled out, slouching so that his arms started sliding down on the table as well, until his elbows were pushing the files away and he was nearly face down to scream incoherently into the wood grain. His words were the epitome of rudeness, but his aunt was only a few years older than him anyway, which meant she was the one who literally taught him every rude thing he knew. “They’ll have to accept me one day. I have all the qualifications; this is discrimination.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Tianji Hall, kiddo. What’s not to love here? You’ve got a good job, it pays well, it’s safe—”

It was nepotism, and the entire building knew it. Worse, Fang Duobing didn’t even want to be there in the first place, had tried running away several times the moment he hit legal age to do so, yet had always been dragged back home on the basis that he couldn’t make it out in the real world. Because everyone else took one look at his name, his face, his ID, and immediately backtracked. 

Anyone else might look at the office provided to him and his bespoke suits and claim otherwise, but his family was ruining his life. He wasn’t made to work in an office! Fang Duobing trained half his life to fight, to defend, to help people and clear dungeons!

He just wanted to be a proper Hunter, and didn’t that make sense? Both his mom and aunt were Awakened as well, yet they worked in logistics and defence and wanted to keep him behind-the-scenes as well out of the dungeons where Hunters died on the daily. 

It had been ten years since the laws that drastically changed how Hunters were allowed into dungeons, and Fang Duobing was still seething about them. Ten years ago, the two largest Hunter sects, Sigu Sect and Jinyuan Alliance, were decimated in a dungeon on the eastern sea, the two having turned against each other after the death of the dungeon boss and then caught in the collapse of the dungeon in one of the biggest disasters of the past decade. An entire neighbourhood had to be evacuated, and the fires burned for over a week before it could be put out. 

It was, his mother would insist, one of the reasons why Tianji Hall was needed, because Hunters could not run rampant as they had anymore since the dungeons first began appearing in the world. 

Since then, the government had also placed laws preventing individual or teams of Hunters from entering dungeons alone ‘for their own safety’, and enforced rules on how only sects could sanction dungeon raids. Which meant unless Fang Duobing registered with one of the remaining Hunter sects, no matter how hard he trained, he would be banned from dungeons. 

His aunt reached in to yank at his ear, causing Fang Duobing to sit up again, yelling as she continued to pull even as his hands reached up to shove her away. 

“Fang Xiaobao,” she said sternly, voice pitched with youth and her tendency to forgive him just about anything despite the amount of times she had been called into drag him home, “I understand you’re upset, but you’ll have to live with it! Why are you looking down on our Tianji Hall? Our work is just as important as the other sects!”

“We don’t raid!” Fang Duobing complained, still trying to pry her fingers from his ear. “We don’t even go into dungeons! Why even guard the gates? Even civilian children know better than to get near one, so at best we’re a logistics sect that deals with what people bring out from the dungeons— ow, ow! Okay, just let go already! Stop twisting!”

Thankfully, she did let go, although she sniffed disdainfully as he glared, cradling his red ear. 

“It’s insulting for the heir of Tianji Hall to think we’re not doing anything.” She told him, leaning forward in a threat gesture until Fang Duobing leaned back from his aunt, appropriately scared. “Do you think Hunters can work without us? Without our gear and weapons, without our regulations and support teams? Their casualty rate would be much higher!”

“Then you can be heir,” he murmured, and winced when she moved to grab at him again, “Sorry, sorry! But I mean it!”

“Stop trying to go after the sects,” she advised him, standing straight from where she had been leaning against his desk, brushing off her skirt and straightening her blazer before pulling the wispy strands of her bangs around her face artistically. “I’m going to be busy this afternoon— where’s your lunch?”

“Stop stealing my lunch,” he complained, and then stared suspiciously. “You’re dressed up today. Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Physician Li is stopping by to help us deliver the latest reports to— oh, stop making the face. Just because he reported you twice—”

“Tattled,” Fang Duobing insisted, pushing himself from his chair in indignation. Twice, Fang Duobing tried to run away from his family, and twice he met Li Lianhua who eventually told his aunt where he was. Twice. Even a dog would learn better, and he was definitely better than a dog. “You’re not taking my lunch to give to him!”

“And why not? I’m not a fool, Xiaobao! He would have gotten it anyway—”

Fang Duobing flushed, and began shoving his aunt out of his office. “He’s not— I wouldn’t— go wash your face, your makeup makes you look old!”

Amidst her shrieking over how she was barely any older than him, he finally managed to close the door in her face and breathe a sigh of relief for the soundproofing installed in his office. 

What a terrible morning. To think he personally made another trip down to the Baichuan Court tryouts with a (somewhat questionable) fake identity and a mask, and was almost accepted until they realised who he really was— it went to show that he had all the qualifications! He had the skills! They were banning him just because they were scared of his mother!

His only reprieve today might be Li Lianhua’s timely arrival, so that Fang Duobing could bully the man into eating a healthy lunch because everyone knew that Physician Li was chronically ill but also a terrible cook. Completely trash at cooking, with a tendency to not only skip meals but supplement them with candy like a child. 

(Well, Fang Duobing knew that, having trailed Li Lianhua for weeks at a time the two times he attempted to hide from his family, and having to choke down the ‘creative’ recipes the man would come up with.)

Yes, it was just revenge, after all! 

He was going to write another letter of complaint to Baichuan Court and then heat up his lunch, and Fang Duobing was going to make sure that the rest of his day would go better than his morning. 

— 

The shaking started subtly, like a truck driving too close to the building if it weren’t for the fact they were more than ten floors above ground level. Fang Duobing hadn’t even felt it at first, too busy on his phone until his assistant Li’er knocked on his door and stuck her head in, frowning when he scrambled to put his phone away and look like he was definitely busying himself doing something else. 

“Sir?” She asked tentatively, arms clutched around several case folders. “Should we sound an earthquake warning, sir?”

It was only then he noticed that the glass of water on his desk had the slightest of ripples within. Earthquake? It was unusual for this region to get earthquakes, and the rumbling was likely from construction nearby, but there hadn’t been any construction scheduled nearby. 

Fang Duobing thought for a moment and then figured, why not? It would be a good excuse to take the rest of the day off and also give the rest of the people some extra time to rest— “Yes, that’s a good idea, better safe than sorry—”

As if on queue, the slight rumbling increased dramatically that moment, starting to shake books from his shelves, and Fang Duobing gripped at his desk in shock before staring up at Li’er who screamed and dropped all her files. The scent of ions in the air like a sudden thunderstorm hit him, and despite never having been in close proximity to a dungeon, he knew the rulebook. 

“Incoming gate!” He yelled out, hearing people screaming outside his office as the rumbling grew to be violent shaking, and then it felt as if the hold of gravity lessened on them, and items went tumbling every which direction in a surge of purple light, the feeling like static shock on the skin. 

For several seconds, the world faded away and there was nothing at all, his vision brightening and then darkening, the air cold and then still and then like it didn’t exist at all, frozen in time. There was a terrifying moment where he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, but that passed quickly until he registered the ringing in his ears to be the sounds of people screaming and crying around him. 

And then— cold. 

Fang Duobing shivered as his palms hit the stone floor, grit and bits of sharp sand pressed against his skin as he blinked himself to awareness again. The ground was uneven, and he could still hear people around him, although the screaming stopped. Most were groaning in pain, some whimpering from fear, and the thunderstorm smell in the air was slowly fading into something like rainwater and algae. He fumbled a moment in the pitch black, and then reached into his pocket for the pocket he just shoved in, pressing a button to light up the screen. 

The bright picture of a happy yellow furred dog sitting on a kitchen chair with both front paws held up by someone out of frame stared up at him, and Fang Duobing fumbled to thumb toward the flashlight app so he could better see his surroundings. 

The light revealed a large cavern, too big to actually see with his phone light, and several other figures slumped across the cave floor a ways from him, some shapes obscured by various furniture that had been transported along with them. 

Two others were also now fumbling for their phone light, and he could identify Wangfu and Li’er in the chaos. 

“Is everyone okay?” He called out, and got some groans of confirmation in return. Fang Duobing pushed himself up, getting his feet beneath him and relieved that he hadn’t been injured in the transfer. 

“Sir, I think… Man’er fell badly…” 

Amongst the small handful of people who ended up where they were, there was a college age girl grimacing on the ground, a hand clenched tightly around her bleeding calf. Fang Duobing hurried over with his phone to see clearer, and saw her leg twisted in an angle that meant bad news. 

There was a young man holding her shoulders to keep her up, although her complexion was pale even in the darkness. 

Within the confines of the dungeon, blood was very bad news. Not to mention most of the office workers in Tianji Hall were not Hunters, and therefore would be unable to fight back against whatever came at them. 

The young woman’s pale face only seemed to drain further at his severe expression, so Fang Duobing attempted to smile reassuringly. “We’ll have to bind that up somehow. Does anyone have…?”

Li’er came to his side, ripping off the white frills off the end of her dress with some difficulty, her eyes wide with both fear but also trust as she handed him the fabric. 

The others were also all looking at him expectantly, and Fang Duobing felt a rush of fear, a different kind than finding himself in the dungeon, as he took the fabric. He wasn’t— this wasn’t… but he had lived with Li Lianhua for weeks at a time, and read through the medicinal books when he got bored, having turned off his phone so he couldn’t be tracked. While the books were more on herbal knowledge and energy pathways for traditional chinese medicine, there were also basics for handling and treating sounds. 

As he came closer, Man’er whimpered and clutched harder at her leg, “Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, hoping the panic wouldn’t show in his voice. Then to the man standing behind her, he said, “Make sure she has something to bite on. We don’t know what’s here, and she might attract something by screaming.”

With the blood spilled, and what noise they already made, they would have to move, and move fast. There was a reason Hunters were only allowed into dungeons in experienced teams, and that was something the handful of them definitely were not. 

The man nodded, his movements frenetic, and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket even as the young woman whimpered and bit back a sob, shoulders shaking at the pain. 

There was a chance that Fang Duobing could make everything worse, but it was a chance he would have to take as there was no way Man’er could be moved otherwise. With her leg that twisted, every movement would be agony and they wouldn’t be able to bind her wound up. A wrong move, however, meant that he might nick an artery attempting to set her broken bone, and that would lead to even worse bleeding. 

“Don’t worry,” he tried to soothe her as she bit down on the pen, tears flowing silently down her face even as she shook. He reached for her leg and she jerked away, immediately regretting the slight movement as her breath hitched. When he touched her leg above the wound, her skin was burning under his fingers. He grimaced and looked up at Li’er’s expectant eyes and said, “I need splints. Chair legs, wood— anything that can hold her leg straight.”

She and Wangfu immediately acknowledged his words and went around to search through the furniture that came along with them, taking their lights with them. Fang Duobing looked back at Man’er and attempted the reassuring smile again. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. This will feel like it sucks for a little while, but you’ll be okay once we get out of here.”

She just closed her eyes, leaning back into the man holding her up. 

“Here!” Wangfu came back with a contemporary table lamp, the base and bulb taken off so that it was mostly just two long pieces of metal folded in the middle to allow for adjustments. 

Fang Duobing accepted the pieces, thinking that it really was exactly the kind of thing he needed, and then thought, am I really going to do this? 

There was so much blood, and he knew that it was best to not disturb the wound and leave it to professionals, but they were in a dungeon and no one expected a new gate to appear right in their office building, and no one was prepared and that meant that any rescue teams would need time to organise and get to them. Even minutes could mean life or death in a dungeon if they were unlucky. 

“It’s okay,” he said again, feeling like he was reassuring himself. “It’s going to be okay.”

His hands were trembling as he took apart the metal pieces of the lamp to make two sections, and then set it down on the stone next to the girl’s broken leg, staring incomprehensibly. 

Luckily, before he could gather up the courage to act, there was a voice behind him, “Move aside.”

He turned his head into the darkness, relief running through his veins as he recognised his aunt and Li Lianhua jogging up to them, both of them looking scraped up but otherwise uninjured. His aunt had blood running down her arm where she lost a sleeve, and a scrape against her cheek, but looked alright overall, features concerned rather than pained. 

Li Lianhua had his hair tied back in a low bun, his usual baggy clothes dirtied but undamaged, although there was a cut running down his brow that hit the outer corner of his cheek, streaking blood down his face. Despite this, he looked unphased, frowning as he crouched down next to Fang Duobing to examine the girl’s leg. 

“Physician Li,” the man behind Man’er breathed a sigh of relief. “She… is she…?”

“She’ll live.” Li Lianhua said curtly, his touch clinical without inciting any reaction from the girl like Fang Duobing’s had. “You got lucky here. The break’s not as bad as it looks, it’s still a closed fracture, you just happen to also have a deep cut above it. It really hurts, doesn’t it? The bone is dragging right against some nerves, so let’s—”

His hands were braced against her leg, and he moved, and the young woman didn’t so much scream as she wheezed out a breath around the pen between her teeth, ending the noise with a whimper before she slumped down further. 

“Good, good,” Li Lianhua told her, tone soothing. He braced the metal pieces against the young woman’s leg and reached to pull the ruffle that Fang Duobing had been clutching onto tightly in his nervousness. The woman made sounds of pain and discomfort through the first two wraps, but eventually settled as her bones were wrapped tightly, with the fabric soaking up the blood from her cut. He reached into the shoulder bag he always carried with him and pulled out a powder packet. “Take this. It’s just a mild painkiller, but it will help. It won’t hurt as much from here on, but you’ll have to be carried, and you’re not going to like it.”

“You couldn’t have given it to her before that?” Fang Duobing asked, dismayed. 

“It doesn’t work immediately.” Li Lianhua answered him, as Man’er shakily took the powder with a whispered thanks. “And it tastes bad. If she vomited from the pain, not only would she feel worse afterward, it would be a waste.”

“You—!”

“Xiaobao,” His aunt admonished, a hand coming to grip Fang Duobing’s shoulder tightly. “Let Physician Li work.”

Li Lianhua looked up, counting the heads there and frowning. “...This is a big group.”

They weren’t a large group, merely seven people in total, but Fang Duobing understood his meaning immediately. 

Short of defeating the dungeon boss, the surest way of exiting a dungeon was defeating the creatures within. One kill per one person if they wanted to leave, as each monster within the dungeon had a core which could be used to transport them out of the dungeon. With it being illegal to kill dungeon bosses, that meant it was their only way out other than waiting for a rescue team. 

Of the group, only Fang Duobing and his aunt were Hunters, which meant only they would be able to fight. 

Neither of them had ever fought in a dungeon before. 

(And, Fang Duobing would never say aloud, his skill was not… fighting oriented.)

“It’s best if we do this fast, then,” Li Lianhua said, “and get the injured out.”

“You know what’s in this dungeon?” Fang Duobing asked, surprised. 

“They look like centipedes,” his aunt confirmed. “We passed a corridor while looking for you with several dozen of them together, so they would all attack at the same time. If we could take those down, we can get everyone out safely. But the numbers are…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering over to the injured young woman. 

Li Lianhua pushed himself back to his feet, the phone light casting heavy shadows under his eyes. 

“Someone will have to carry her.” He said. “Because we have to move or we’ll be swarmed very soon.”

— 

In the end, the young man holding Man’er before ended up carrying her on his back, although Fang Duobing offered to do so as well and reassured him that they could switch when he got tired. Li’er revealed her injured wrist for Li Lianhua to wrap, and only Wangfu and Fang Duobing ended up without injuries entirely. 

“I’m fine,” He Xiaofeng waved her nephew off from her bleeding arm, turning a flirtatious look over her shoulder. “Physician Li looked at it for me earlier. It’s unfortunate, but won’t hinder me. I can still fight.” Her Awakening as a Hunter gave her a skill that ensured almost all of her hits would connect with its target. It was a physical enhancement, meant to control minute fluctuations of her muscles for terrifying accuracy, but it wasn’t anything close to magic. If it wasn’t possible to make a shot, then she wouldn’t be able to do so. 

With the deep cut in her arm, Fang Duobing worried that it wouldn’t be her accuracy affected, but the strength of her hits. With his aunt’s sniper-like reflexes, her greatest weakness would be not taking out her target on first hit. 

And without weapons, they were practically sitting ducks. 

“It’ll be fine,” Li Lianhua said to him, likely after seeing his woebegone expression. Thanks to their lack of injuries, it was Fang Duobing and Wangfu taking point, scouting out the area ahead little at a time to give others time to run if they attracted unfavourable attention. Li Lianhua was wiping away the blood from his cut with his sleeves and grimacing at the stain to his cream coloured clothes. Fang Duobing worried that the wound was still bleeding sluggishly, but Li Lianhua, like He Xiaofeng, waved his concerns off. 

“The gate appeared in a high traffic area,” Fang Duobing observed as they moved along the cave, three of them with their phone lights out to illuminate the way in front and behind them. He stopped a moment to scan the light around, making sure there was nothing lurking along the walls or ceilings where they were. If they were in a dungeon with insects, it was better to be safe than sorry. “It shouldn’t take the closest sect longer than ten minutes to mobilise, and then… five minutes to get here?”

“Ten if you’re lucky,” Li Lianhua corrected in a tired murmur, wiping at his brow with a frown. “If a gate appeared, then traffic would be awful around the area. There might be accidents on the streets, and abandoned vehicles. That means more pedestrians, which means it might be hard to even get runners to the location for the first while. I’d add another twenty minutes, likely. Maybe half an hour.”

“And then they have to find us in the dungeon.” His aunt volunteered. She didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “As we haven’t seen anyone else so far, we don’t know how large this place actually is.”

“We’ll have to keep moving,” Fang Duobing deduced, brow furrowing as they continued to walk. The scent of blood would attract predators, and if they weren’t getting help very soon, their best option really would be to find monsters they could defeat, and acquire the cores to get out themselves. 

This was an opportunity, Fang Duobing determined. So long as he could keep everyone safe and get them out, then that was absolute, irrefutable proof that he should be allowed to join Baichuan Court. He just had to… keep everyone safe. 

He thought of another instance, a reassuring voice and a warmth surrounding him, and steeled himself. 

“I’ll take point,” he said. “Wangfu’s with me. My aunt and Li’er at the rear, and we can keep Man’er safe that way.”

“Li’er’s wrist is injured,” his aunt protested. “It’d be best to have Physician Li with me at the rear.”

Fang Duobing gave her a dubious look, not at all convinced by that argument. Ideally, his aunt would take the lead as she could make use of anything to attack, but with the way things were, he was making do with what they had! Besides, he was also taking into account Li Lianhua’s unpredictable health, with his heart condition and all. “He’s the only one who knows what to do in case something happens to Man’er.”

His aunt made a noise in protest, but then pouted as Li Lianhua didn’t glance her way. Her lipstick was still the same dark shade of red from earlier. 

“Keep against the wall,” Li Lianhua suggested. “It will be one less side for ambush.”

They did just that, slowly but carefully making their way through the cave and staying out of reach of smaller pockets illuminated by the light. Once they found another site of destruction, with various office equipment that had been transported into the dungeon, and Fang Duobing picked up a waiting room chair with steel legs, figuring it was much better than having no weapon at all. Wangfu found a water bottle, and they stopped for a minute to give Man’er a break and some water. 

“She’s not doing so well,” the young man carrying her said, hitching her higher up his back as gently as he could, but she still gave a sharp inhale of pain. 

“Broken bones don’t like being jostled,” Li Lianhua agreed, but couldn’t give any way of comforting the young woman. 

“Don’t worry,” Wangfu told her quietly, “We’ll be out soon! And then the doctors can take a look at you… no offence, Physician Li.”

Li Lianhua merely shrugged with a slight smile. “I don’t often get patients with broken bones coming to me. If there’s still water left, you should use it to clean up some of the blood. We might be able to divert attention if we clean with a cloth and leave the cloth in other locations.”

“That’s a smart idea!” He Xiaofeng exclaimed. 

“Of course, that could backfire depending on the monster in the dungeon,” Li Lianhua warned. “If there are other types of monsters than what we’ve seen. We’ve been lucky so far.”

“Yeah,” Fang Duobing interjected. “And we should get going again.”

The brief respite took less than three minutes, but all of them were too jittery to stay for long, understanding the type of environment they were in. That they hadn’t seen others… There should be dozens of people on the floor of that building, and there were only seven of them here now. 

Li Lianhua lingered toward the back of the group this time as they left behind the ruined office furniture, his eyes lingering on the shadows behind them, moving and writhing just shy of the light.

[mrbigboisprite]

My people!! How about I give you some Time Travelling Mordeson Headcanon and AU?

Check it: What if Mordecai realizes that he and Benson don't see eye to eye and Mordecai takes that personally?

No matter what he does, Benson will just get angry at him or push him away. And that upsets him, so he goes to have a conversation with Pops to try and solve the issue. And from his interaction, it's obvious that Benson will never like him due to past events where he plus Rigby would nearly ruin his life, trust issues, and how much of a screw-up he is in general.

Hence Mordecai gets the brilliant idea to travel to past events and fix their broken bond.(or in other words, he travels through the first few seasons of the show).

I headcanon that the microwave in the kitchen grants anyone the ability to time travel to the past/future based on the "It's Time" episode (where Mordo fucked up the microwave by dumping tons of clocks cuz he didn't want Rigby to go out with Mags).

For example, in The Power episode, instead of asking Pops, he gets Ben to help him flip the cart while Pops and Rigby go deal with the monster issue. Mordo tries to explain himself but Ben only gets more angry. 

Well, that didn't work.

Then he travels to Caffeined Concert Tickets where he wakes up just the right moment their tickets were stolen by the coffee bean man and his partner/translator(?). Mordo and Rigs are chasing them with the lawn mower but then accidentally knock into Ben. The scene of Ben falling happens and then he yells the line to help him pick up his gumballs and Mordo is quick to step on the brakes and do just that.

Rigby would probably be so confused watching like "Dude!! What are you doing?? They're getting away" but Mordo ignores him and successfully gives Ben his gumballs while apologizing. A speechless Benson takes them and watches him run back to the cart because Rigby continues to scream at him to hurry up.

This is basically the whole concept: Have Mordo spend as much time with his boss as possible. Why as much as possible? Because during his solo adventure, he is being chased by these two masked individuals who want to stop him.

Mordo don't care tho. He is set to get Benson to like him and no one will stop him.

On the way, Mordecai finds himself discovering that he and Ben aren't as different as he believed. And the more moments the two are together, the more Mordo falls for Ben.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Ben is experiencing a painful change in his body because of all the time travelling Mordo is doing. He then is aware Mordo is nowhere to be seen and goes to look for him, only to be shocked at the microwave acting like it's about to explode. And when he gets closer to it to check in better detail, he gets sucked in.

Back to Mordo, he starts to lose control of the places he ends up in but then ends up in a place with his Benson. The two bicker back and forth, with Benson disappointed in him but then Mordo reveals why he's doing this and admits his feelings to Ben. And Ben is shocked, but in a twist he also admits he he never hated him.

A huge black hole then shows up and so do the two masked individuals to reveal Skips and Ted. They explain Mordecai has been unintentionally destroying the universe and if he doesn't stop, everything will go down the drain. And to do that, they have to reset Father Time, leading to all their memories being wiped.

Yada Yada, post too lost, Yada Yada, world is saved.

Mordo and Ben apologize to each other and the everything resets.

Cuts to Mordo and Rigs first day in the Park, but Mordo and Ben have this weird sparkle between each other. Giving the idea that their relationship will be wholesome.

Or something like that. I dunno, maybe I'm coping over the fact I WANT MORDECAI AND BEN TO INTERACT, JG WHY DIDN'T YOU MADE AN EPISODE WITH THEM WITHOUT A DAMN RACCOON FOLLWING?! WHY WOULD YOU TAKE THAT FROM US-

[baka-monarch]

Sam Nook's Side Kick

(I finally started writing my fnaf au! Here's part 1!)

Trigger warning: child murder, murder, death, blood

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

Dweam do you tink they still have the hard hats?" Tommy's voice invaded his brother's senses, making the newly ten year old jolt.

"I dunno Toms, they probably already moved onto whatever other kids want by now-" Dream responded, fixing his birthday sash by looking at his reflection in the window.

"But- but Sammy needs a hard hat! He could get huuuurrrrt!!!!" The five year old shouted, shoving his raccoon plushie into Dream's face as if that would emphasize his point.

"Toms, Sam is a stuffed animal, he can't feel pain." The elder gave the plushie's head a squish, making Tommy snatch his toy away from him.

"No! Sammy is a person like us and feels so many things- like pain!!!" The blue eyed boy argued, gently rubbing his toy's head to comfort it as Dream rolled his eyes.

"Sure…" Was Dream's only response.

"Stop fighting boys, we're heeeerrreeeee!" They're mom's voice cut in, and Dream could already hear Tommy's feet kicking against the chair in excitement. Sam's Burger Nook was outside the car windows, looking bright as ever. It was always a happy place, and Tommy's favorite restaurant (Dream's too- but he wasn't about to admit that now that he was a whopping ten years old!).

"Let me ooooouuuuut!" Dream looked over at his younger brother who was currently struggling in his booster seat. Tommy could unbuckle himself, but he was still having trouble learning how to use a seatbelt.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Their mom laughed as she got out to help Tommy. While they were doing that Dream got out of the car and followed his dad into the restaurant excitedly. A wave of excitement hit the ten year old as he walked in the doors and saw the familiar woodland aesthetic and fake trees around the restaurant, along with the loud games and laughter from children. His father led Dream to the back where a table was already set up for his party and waiting for his family and friends to arrive, set right in front of the stage where the animatronics performed.

"Now, stay here Dream and wait for your friends while I help your mother get the presents." His dad explained before leaving.

"Okay!" Dream shouted after him, then climbed up to sit in one of the seats at the table. It wasn't long before his younger brother was running up to him and trying to climb into the seat next to him.

"Dweeeeeeaaaaam!!!!" The younger cried dramatically. "The hard hats are goooooooooonnnneeeee!" Dream rolled his eyes.

"I told you." He snarked but Tommy only fake cried harder.

"Ew, why is your brother here?" A familiar accented voice rang out and Dream turned around excitedly to see George.

"Uh- because he has to be here-" Dream tried to explain before getting cut off by five year old sobs.

"My Sammy will never be safe noooooowww!!!!" Tommy hugged onto Dream making the older have to push him off and onto the floor where Tommy rolled under the table. George sat I'm the chair Tommy had just fallen out of.

"Don't tell me he's going to be following you around all day…" George frowned.

"Well-"

"Dweeeaaam, can we make a hard hat?" Tommy pulled on his brother's shoe to get his attention, making Dream sigh.

"I guess so…" Dream frowned. This was going to be a long and annoying tenth birthday…

After a while of talking with George and ignoring Tommy his brother had gotten distracted by their mom asking the young boy to help with carrying in presents. Which left Dream with a moment of peace with George and his other friends as they started showing up. Sapnap, Punz, Karl, Tina, Hanna, and others kept coming until it was time to go play games. Each kid was given a cup full of tokens and sent off to enjoy the arcade by themselves- all except Dream who was tasked to keep Tommy with him since they were too old to be by himself yet.

Dream let out an annoyed growl as Tommy jumped in front of him- FOR THE TENTH TIME- again to start playing a game before he could. "Wooooaaahhhh! Dweam this game is so poggers!" The five year old said, oblivious to Dream's annoyance.

"I know! I was about to play it!" Dream grunted and Tommy looked back at him with a smile.

"Now we can play it together!" He laughed then turned back to the game, not noticing as Dream let out a quiet shout of annoyance and hid his face in his hands.

"Why don't you just tell him to fuck off?" Sapnap whispered from next to him.

"Because it's my 'responsibility'" Dream made air quotes, "to make sure nothing happens to him…" The blond rolled his eyes, wondering why his parents weren't doing that since it's his birthday.

"Weeelll….." Sapnap munched on a bag of fries. "Some of the mascots are out walking around right now- why not send him to them?"

Dream looked at Sapnap for a moment, "Aren't they like- y'know- actually people in costumes?"

"Yeah, but if they work here then if a child goes missing while they're watching it then they'll get into more trouble right? So obviously they're perfect to watch the gremlin!" He reasoned, stuffing his face with more food.

"Hmmm… I guess you're right…."

"I'm always right-" Sapnap smiled, and Dream glared at him, knowing that definitely wasn't true.

"Whatever uuuuhhh-" Dream started looking around the restaurant and smiled when he saw the Sam Nook costume walking around. He tapped Tommy in the shoulder.

"Hm?" The child turned to him.

"Hey Tommy look!" Dream pointed at Sam Nook. "It's Sam Nook, why don't you go say hi!"

Tommy gasped excitedly. "SAM NOOK!!!!" He shouted and didn't waste any time running off to his favorite raccoon. He didn't notice the older kids fist pumping and laughing behind him as he shouted, "MAYBE I CAN GET A HARD HAT!!!"

•••

"SAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!" Tommy shouted as he ran up to his hero, smiling brightly up at the taller big man. "Sam Sam Sam! I'm your biggest follower!" Tommy shouted up at him.

"Well isn't that something amazing!" Tommy gasped when his hero actually responded! He never did that when not on stage! "As my biggest fan do you want the biggest prize kiddo!"

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. "Heck yeah! I'm the biggest man and should get the biggest and bestest prize of them all!!!"

"Of course you should! Which is why…" Sam Nook leaned in really close to Tommy and whispered. "I'm going to make you my sidekick!" Tommy gasped.

"Really!?"

"Yeah! Anything for my biggest fan!" Sam Nook took his hand and Tommy started to wiggle excitedly. "Here, I'll take you to my special room where all my friends go to get their presents!"

"Yaaaayy!!!" Tommy shouted as he followed Sam Nook to a mostly hidden door that opened up into a dark room. Once Tommy was inside Sam Nook closed the door behind them and dropped something jingly on the floor.

"Now to be my best friend I need to make you look like me!" Sam Nook said, walking over to something big on a table while Tommy happily followed.

"Yeah! Yeah! Oh- can I have a hard hat?" He asked, hopping up and down and smiled when his hero chuckled fondly.

"Of course you can, you need to stay safe right?" Sam Nook ruffled Tommy's hair and made the child feel like the most amazing person in the world. "Now, here's some special clothes to make you just like me!" Sam Nook started using a metal tool to open something up and Tommy bounced a little more. "Are you ready kiddo?"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" Tommy laughed as Sam Nook picked him up and put him inside of the thing then began closing it.

"You'll now be my best friend forever!"

•••

Woohoo!!!" Dream cheered as he ran back to the party table. His mom had just called out to all the kids that it was time for cake, and they were all running back now.

"Dream? Where's Tommy?" Was his mom's first question as soon as Dream arrived.

"Oh, he went to go see Sam Nook!" Dream replied happily.

"Well can you go get him so he won't miss out on cake?" She crossed her arms with a stern look. Dream rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Fiiiiiiiine…" The child walked off immediately going towards a specific wall. A few minutes ago he'd spotted 'Sam Nook' leading his brother into a mostly hidden room. Dream approached the painted over door and grabbed the handle with a sign on it that said 'Employee's only'... That's weird… he thought to himself as he opened the door. Why would Tommy be brought in here if it was only for-

Dream's thoughts cut off as he looked inside the door to see someone in a bloodied Sam Nook consume standing in front of an animatronic… that the bloodied and mangled corpse of his brother was inside of, still hugging his plushie. The employee noticed the light and stopped touching the dead body and ran to a darker part of the room- allowing for the child's bloody body to fall onto the floor with a small splat.

Dream was shaking. His breathing was sparse and he could feel tears in his eyes. The more he realized that Tommy was dead, the more he felt it build up inside him. He didn't know what it was but he hated it… Tommy was dead…

Dream screamed.

It wasn't long until a crowd of adults surrounded him, all of them muttering different things, some crying, some hyperventilating- all of them had different reactions. None of them screamed.

"Dream….?" A weak, familiar voice spoke up. It sounded like Tommy but, their body didn't move. "Dream… I- I'm scared I- I can't- I can't f- feel any- anything…" Dream started crying and hyperventilating more. No no no no- Tommy was dead! He was dead! Dream saw it! "Every… everything is so… so big now.. can you please…" His eyes widened as he thought he saw their plushy love a little. No way… "I- I want a hug pl- please… it's+ it's scary, a- and everything is l- loud-" They sounded like they were crying. Dream didn't wait any longer, he rushed inside and picked up their plushie and squeezed it into a hug… he could feel their warmth in it. "Than- tank you…"

"Dream what are you-" His mom started to say but he cut her off with a wet, terrified chuckle.

"He's- he's still here! Tommy- he's- he's in the plushie!" Dream went up to her, still hugging the bloodied toy he was sure his brother was now.

"Oh honey…" His mom frowned, and he knew she didn't believe him but-

"But I know! He talked to me, can't- can't you hear him mom!" He looked up at her hopefully as he heard Tommy say 'mom' in his head. She only frowned sadly at him. "D- dad?" He looked up at their dad, who only glared back, making him shrink in on himself and hug Tommy more protectively. "But… but it's him it really… it really is…"

"That's enough Dream." Their dad said sternly. "Go wait in the car while we handle this."

"But-"

"And stop spewing nonsense. You found his body, you should know that Tommy is dead and is never coming back." Tommy whimpered and Dream hugged him tighter.

"Honey-"

"Now go to the car!" Dream sniffled and started crying as he left, keeping Tommy close to himself. He knew it was them, he just knew it, even if no one else could tell it was his brother he knew for a fact that Tommy was still with him.

•••

Dream stayed in his room mostly after that. Just making sure Tommy was okay, keeping him clean and safe since their parents still didn't believe him. While that was happening he could overhear them through the walls and listened in about the lawsuit on the restaurant. It was agreed Sam's Burger Nook company would pay for the funeral, but the lawsuit went no further as it was explained how springlocks worked- they had to be cranked to make it safe to wear the same costumes as the animatronics, and if done improperly or not at all the mechanical parts would stab through and kill any human inside. The story went that an employee had left the door unlocked and Tommy must've wandered inside, and climbed into a costume wanting to be Sam Nook, resulting in a springlock failure….

But Dream knew that's not what actually happened. Dream knew someone had purposely led Tommy into that room, and after a year Tommy eventually told him what happened. When Dream had walked in the Green Man (as Tommy had come to call him) was in the middle of moving his body out of the suit- most likely to bury him, Dream assumed- but because of Dream's interference they hadn't gotten enough time to hide Tommy or himself, so he'd dropped Tommy's body and run.

Dream did try to tell people the truth, but there was no proof, and the words of a child claiming he heard his dead brother's voice was nothing compared to the claims of a rich corporation known for child safety precautions. Eventually he gave up and just focused on keeping Tommy safe…. Even if he became known as a little bit crazy amongst strangers in the process. There wasn't really much else he could do….

"You could get a job as a night guard and find some proof."