#explodes and dies a million times over

[heartslobbf]

thinking about mabel podcast episode 20 acting out and how someday we will be flower shopping and you will touch my shoulder underneath the pink magnolia tree, and your hair will curl with delight, and you will say i am so happy i feel like weeping. btw. Actually

[nibwhipdragon]

Just remembered the live action Monster Hunter film exists.

[maliciousblog]

Fighter (Jungkook)

Warning: This is a dead dove fic ⚠️

You've always been a fan of MMA practising boxing and jujitsu in your spare time. It was a welcome distraction from your busy life.

Hitting the gym after a stressful day of being a corporate slave did ease the tension and helped you blow off some steam.

Learning jujitsu opened up a whole new world for you as you got more immersed into the sport you took a keen liking to watching it as well.

Soon enough you and your gym buddies would meet up over the weekend to watch fight broadcasts which eventually turned into you buying tickets to live matches.

It gave you a sort of adrenaline high.

It made you forget about your worries even if it were for a little while.

This weekend was no different than any other you and your friends were seated on the ring side.

Watching new fighters try to work their way up the ranks serving as an opening act for the main event.

They generally never really caught your attention much as most of them were just clumsy amateurs  trying to make it big.

Concentrating more on your beer at hand.

The commentator was introducing a new rookie from Korea Jeon Jungkook.

Fighting on a 2 loss streak this was his last chance to prove himself otherwise as a rookie he wouldn't be able to get a fighting contract.

Out of curiosity you looked up only to find him looking directly at you nervously sliding from one leg to another which was understandble given the fact that this one fight decided if he would have a career or not. The end was near for him.

He didn't have much hope or faith in himself.

He had sacrificed his all for his dream and now he slowly saw it drifting away from his grasp.

His head was filled with a million thouts

Voices crowded his mind of self doubt and anxiety as he made his way into the ring.

The sound was deafening he felt as if his head would explode.

Until suddenly everything went silent he became painfully aware of every detail in complete silence as he locked eyes with you.

It was as if for the first time in a long while he felt at ease.

He felt grounded

His breath leveled back to normal

The tremor in his hand subsided as he stood there entranced by you.

Until he heard the bell ring.

The referee pulling him into the centre of the ring starting the fight.

The first round went better than expected he was able to land a couple of punches causing some damage to his opponent.

He dominated the first round demonstrating his skill and impressive striking.

The second round he was grounded by his opponent jungkook knew he excelled in striking but lacked in wrestling and ground work

Using his weakness against him sending a powerful blow to his face which resulted in a deep gash.

With blood rushing down his face clouding his sight.

The fight had brought the audience to the edge of their seat the last round would decide who would win.

Jungkook was exhausted and bloody and beaten maybe it was best to accept defeat at this point things weren't going his way either way.

If he didn't win this fight he wouldn't have anything to return to he gave up all his savings to recieve training.

He had been alone all his life his parents died when he was about 5 leaving him to his grandfather who ran a boxing gym.

This is where he grew up this was all he ever knew ever since he was a child.

It wasn't soon when his grandfather too passed away leaving him all alone yet again. He promised that he would become world champion one day it was either that or he wouldn't want to live.

Without this life wasn't worth living.

The voice of self doubt took over once again he felt defeated he didn't know how much longer he could go on.

But they were once again silenced .

Silenced by your cheers it was the first time in his life that someone cheered for him.

You a complete stranger believed in him at that more than anyone ever did in his entire life.

At that moment you were all he needed your cheers gave him the strength to fight the last round knocking his opponent to the ground earning him the first victory in his professional career.

After the event he tried to find you in the crowd but you were no where in sight his lucky charm.

He knew he had to find you.

The days that followed he started training with a new found energy it was like he was a whole new man.

He gained confidence and knew that he had to work on his technique especially his wrestling.

His coach recommended a local jujitsu gym where he should begin training.

With his gym bag hanging on his shoulder he stepped into the gym.

And began sparring on the mat for about an hour or so not really caring about the building up fatigue.

Nearly spent he was about to call it a day until he saw something flash over the corner of his eye

He watched as you and your sparring partner giggled while tossing each other around.

It was a strange experience each time he saw it was like he was reborn.

It felt as though he was given a second chance at life ever since he saw you.

He couldn't work up the courage to speak to you that day so he tried his best to impress with his fighting skills despite being exhausted he sparred until you left in hopes of seeing you for as long as he could.

Packing up for the day he was just about to head back home as his phone began to buzz in his back pocket. To his surprise it was his manager informing him that his latest win had landed him a fighting contract and that he was scheduled for an upcoming fight that would offer his a decent pay check.

He was extatic things were finally turning around for him. He credited this win again to you.

It couldn't possibly be a coincidence he saw you the first time he won and now he again met you the day he got a contract.

He was sure that you were his lucky charm.

His suspicion was proved right when in his next fight there you were in the front row

That day he won by knockout and he won his next fight as well similarly with you right by his side.

It could no longer be a coincidence in his mind you were cemented as his lucky charm and he felt that he wouldn't win without as you sit obliviously to his strange theories by the ring you begin to feel a little uncomfortable with the way he is starting at you as if you would disappear the second he looks away.

Bruhsing it off as him probably being disoriented after the fight you didn't think too much of it.

But soon the feeling was harder to shake off he started showing up to your gym more often training when you would train offering to be your sparring partner which you kindly declined.

Given that you preferred to stick to your friends he wouldn't let any man near you either

His possessiveness was starting to creep you out. He wasn't your boyfriend but would tell everyone that he was and when you confronted him about this he told you that it would help keep the creeps away from you.

But who was going to tell him that he was the one creeping you out.

It didn't stop at that he would often wait until you finished to walk you to your car in the guise of keeping you safe or the way he would constantly borrow your stuff saying that he had forgotten his at home.

Soon things like your clothes started to go missing from your gym bag as he snuck them out as souvenirs.

As he clutched a bouquet of roses he followed you to your car today was the day he would finally confess and make you his.

He patiently waited for you to finish your session as he walked you out as usually but before you got into your car.

He stopped you.

You saw his face change to a shade of pink as he looked like a giddy school boy.

He held out the bouquet of roses to you confessing his love and undying affection for you.

It was sweet and he looked so hopefull but you couldn't lie to him and tell him you felt the same.

You tried to be as gentle as you could trying to let him down.

But he was in denial he didn't understand how you couldn't see that you were meant to be you were soulmates it was destiny.

He wasn't relenting so you just ripped off the bandage.

"Listen I said I don't like you it don't understand why that's so hard to get into that thick skull of yours leave me the fuck alone"

He stood there stunned as you stormed off slaming your car door and promptly driving off.

You saw his reflecting in your rear view mirror his eyes were glossed over and he looked like a kicked puppy with his head held low the bouquet of roses that he had so carefully picked out now layed on the cold concrete floor.

He watched as you disappeared off into the night.

It was obvious that you were playing hard to get. That's okay he would just smother you with love until you didn't say yes. Otherwise he would just have to turn to move unpleasant measures at least unpleasant for you he would surely enjoy what he would do to you.

Everyday he would show up at opening time at the gym and leave at closing in hopes of catching you but as the days went by you didn't show up.

You thought it was best to lay low for a couple of days for the awkwardness to wear off.

When he couldn't find you at the gym he started to show up at your office just waiting outside the parking lot waiting for you.

You could only avoid him for so long, soon he began to show up wherever you went it was starting to scare you.

You reached your breaking point when one day you were sleeping you heard the door to your apartment rattle as if someone was trying to break in.

You could hear him on the other side yelling at you to open the door.

" Open the fucking door. Why do you have to make this so difficult.

We are meant to be why can't you just accept it?

I'll do anything for you just tell me what I need to do.

I'll do anything just open the door I just want to talk to you.

I'll treat you so well no one can love you the way I do those jerks that you flirt with at the gym can't love the way I do.

What we have is something special they wouldn't understand.

Open the fucking door or I'm going to break it down. "

You saw the hinged of the door begin to come off as he started to break it down.

You were sure he was going to murder you tonight if it wasn't for security showing up

It took five men to subdue with great difficulty.

Eventually the cops had to be called to restrain him.

He was let out of jail with nothing more than a slap on the wrist as the fighting leage didn't want their top new prospect to not show up for his fights.

The cops adviced you to leave town and lay low for a while because there was nothing they could do about him as he hadn't hurt you yet.

And the officials at the fight leage would simply bail him out each time as his fights were starting to bring in money.

You packed up your essentials in a hurry and headed to your parents home in the country side to get as far away from him as possible.

He was warned by his manager to not get into trouble for a while as he had a big fight coming up that would bring him close to fighting for the championship.

He trained hard every single day maybe if he became champion you would finally love him.

Even when he coughed up blood from overtrainig

He never stopped he had to win.

When fight day came his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd for your face.

You surely couldn't have abandoned him now.

You were his lucky charm

The calm in an ocean of noise

Without you hear he wouldn't win.

He has to have you

How could you betray him like this all you had to do was show up.

The fight commenced and he was on a 4 fight winning streak he couldn't risk losing it when he was climbing up the ranks.

He gave it his all and nearly lost the fight the only reason he won was because of a technicality and a penalty awarded to his opponent he was beat up and his ego was severely bruised.

He blamed his near loss on you how was he supposed to win without his lucky charm.

His delusion was only further proved by the outcome of the fight.

He began to become superstitious and was convinced that it would bring bad luck if he didn't have you.

His only dream in life was to be world champion and he wasn't about to let your refusal stand in his way.

He had to take matters into his own hands he had to make discussions for you because you clearly don't know what's good for you.

Without wasting even a second still covered in blood and sweat he pulled on a jacket and fired up his truck to your home.

He knew where you parents lived he would occasionally show up at night to watch you through the window when he couldn't sleep your presence calmed him down.

He knew he had to lure you out some way or another.

That's when a sinister idea popped into his mind.

He took out a burner phone a dialled your number.

When he heard your voice greet him.

" I'm not going to repeat myself.

Be a good girl and come out. We are going on a little trip just you and I.

If you want to be bad and stay inside I'll just simply come in and drag you out but if I have to do that I can't guarantee the safety of your parents.

They are old and weak you wouldn't want them to get hurt now would you.

I certainly wouldn't mind sending them to an early grave so now be a good Little girl and come with me "

You knew he wasn't joking he was more than capable of killing a grown man let alone your aging parents and living in the country side meant that you couldn't even call for help by the time you did he would have easily murdered your entire blood line.

You had no option but to comply as you snuck out through the back door trying not to wake your parents up maybe some day you'd be able to see them again if he didnt end your life this instant.

Sneaking out you were met with his face a sinister grin plastered across his face.

It was still bloody with most of the blood having dried down you assumed he left the ring directly to find you it was only a matter of time.

He opened the door for you shoving you in as you hesitated.

You were paralyzed with fear he was like a wild animal that was pushed into a corner and wounded he was unpredictable.

All you could do now was comply.

As he sped through the empty highways you knew that if you didn't escape now you wouldn't ever leave.

When his eyes were glued to the road ahead you hesitantly unlocked to lock to the passenger side door.

Just as you were about to open the door to the moving car and make your escape.

You felt his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a bone crushing grip slamming your head into the dashboard effectively knocking you out cold.

He pulled you back and rested your head back onto the seat.

Gently brushing a few strands of hair off your face as he occasionally admired as he drove off.

You looked so peaceful like this so calm and serine he could spend his entire life admiring you.

After an hours drive you finally reached your destination it was a quaint little house just outside the city he had bought it with his first major pay check for you.

He had invisioned his entire future with you by his side today was only the beginning of your life together.

He couldn't help but smile in content as he carried your unconscious body into the threshold of your new home.

He layed you down on a soft mattress in a room he had designed to your liking the sheets matching to the walls painted in your favourite colour.

Slowly coming back to consciousness.

The side of your head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it.

You were slightly disoriented as you tried to take in your surroundings the soft mattress underneath you did little to provide you with comfort.

What little sense of safety you felt vanished as you saw him at sitting beside you running his calloused hands across your naked skin.

"I hope you don't mind I had to get you out of those filthy clothes. It wouldn't have had to be this way if you understood my love for you I never would have had to go this far."

A chill randown your spine as he began to go on and on about how he bought this house for you and how much he was looking forward to spend the rest of your lives together.

"I've done so much for you. I keep you safe.

I bought you this house that matches your liking I all but worship the ground you walk on don't you think I deserve something in return for all I have done for you. "

He said as he straddled your hips.

He tried to fight him off all only to land one punch on him reopening a cut that he had sustained in the fight as blood gushed down his face onto yours

You watched in horror as he seemed completely unfazed by it.

Infact he almost seemed excited by the sight of it.

" Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight out of you"

He grabbed both of your wrists with one one hand pinning you down.

His other hand roaming your body groping you as he pleased.

Ripping off the final coverings from your body leaving you bare for his hungry eyes to shamelessly eye fuck you.

He leaned down to kiss you to which you turned away.

The second time he tried his patience began to wear off with your non compliance wearing his patience thin.

He wasn't having any of it.

Before you could try to push him off you felt a searing slap land on your face the force of which whipped your head to the side.

Before you could even react to it another one followed then another he slapped you around like a rag doll mercilessly raining pain on you he only stopped when you tasted metallic blood on your tounge seeping in from your cheeks.

The fear in your eyes turned him on the fact that he has so much power over you at any given moment he could take your life without even having to try.

You were completely at his mercy and he wasn't feeling very generous today.

You trembled under him knowing that it was best to just comply.

"If you behave this can be a pleasurable experience for the both of us , and if you don't well I don't really care. I'll get what I want either way."

Having you immobilised with fear just made it easier for him to take advantage of you.

He still loved you in his own sick and twisted way and wanted you to feel good too.

He slide down your body grabbing your hips sliding them down to eye level as he spread apart your legs.

His breath fanning over your cunt making you shiver.

You tried to close them but either hand on your thighs held them down like chains.

He teased you gently running his toung through the expanse on your sex.

Slowly building up his pace while lapping you up.

His fingers teased your entrance as you bucked your hips towards him to get some sort of contact our of desperation he loved how needy you had gotten as he ate you out.

Edging you until you were on the verge of tears begging him to let you realse.

He loved the pained look of desperation on your face it made him feel needed.

He would move his tounge skillful working you up to your high only to stop just before you came.

He did this for what seemed like hours.

Teasing you torturing you with pleasure.

The frustration building up in your body was clouding your vision you needed to release one way or another it had gotten to a point where it was almost painful.

He himself could feel his cock strain against the fabric of his underwear.

Big and angry just waiting to burry itself into your soft warm walls.

As much as he enjoyed watching you be a desperate slut.

He needed some action himself.

Moving up caging you between his arms.

You didn't have much energy left in you with the assault he earlier did and the hours of edging you were completely spent.

As he slowly tried to fit his massive girth inside of you.

It was a tight fit as you tried weekly pushing him away telling him it was too much to handle.

He reassured you that you would be fine and to be a good girl and take whatever he gives you.

Once fully inside it felt as if he was splitting you open.

He tried his best to go as slow as he could but the months of pent up frustration and rage all led up to this moment.

He couldn't hold it in anymore as he drilled you into the mattress.

Your finger nails drew crimson marks all along his back as he brought you from one orgasm to another barely giving you rest between them.

It was like he was in a daze finally getting his hands on what he so desperately crave

[lets-try-some-writing]

(For your Mr. Pax AU:)

Imagine the kids meeting Elita. It'd be so fragging wholesome XD

It'd more then likely be after the school day, too. Lmao.

It would and I have opted to answer the call for this ask.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So kids, how was school?" Elita grinned as the children settled on their platform, spreading out homework and other assignments for the cycle. She regarded their work with interest. It seemed simple enough in her optics, but then again, the human children were very small.

"Oh! You're Elita! Optimus's wife!" Miko shot up, a huge smile on her small squishy face. The urge to reach out and poke one of her cheeks was strong, but Elita refrained. It wouldn't do to go poking the children when it was far safer just to wait until later and do it in holoform.

"I'm his Conjunx, yes." Jack pointedly did not look in her direction. Elita could almost see the way his venting would have sputtered if he were Cybertronian. She may not have been well versed in all things human as of the present moment, but even she could see he looked a moment away from exploding.

"Woah, I didn't know Optimus was married." Rafael added his own commentary, closing his laptop to look up at Elita with wide eyes. She had to fight back an awed noise at how adorable he looked. He was tiny, his glasses only making him look more like a sparkling in her optics. She wanted to poke his cheeks as well, but that would have to wait.

"He's been my Conjunx for a very long time kiddo. Since before he became Prime in fact." Miko and Rafael made awed noises, and even Jack looked up at her in surprise, his embarrassment over the parent-teacher conference forgotten.

"Really? Optimus doesn't seem like the kind of guy to well... do that?" Jack was hesitant in his words, but Elita laughed in short order. She clutched her abdomen as she considered Jack's point of view, all but cackling. Her Conjunx could be quite stern when he wanted to be, especially when stressed. She'd already heard about how Optimus shut down any attempts at being introduced to humor. It was no surprise Jack was startled.

"He wasn't always such a stoic figure. Back when we were young, we got into all sorts of trouble." Resting a servo on her hip as he laughter died down, Elita watched as the children practically lit up at the reveal. Jack was quiet with his interest, but Rafael and Miko were not.

"Optimus in trouble? Oooh this is some blackmail material I need!" Miko did a little dance in place, the plushies on her belt shifting as she did an excited twirl. Elita again had to fight the urge to pick up and cuddle the squishy organic close. It probably wouldn't end well, but she hadn't been able to hold such a small creature since Bee was freshly forged.

"I don't think you can blackmail Prime with stuff that millions of years old." Jack, being so much like Optimus, tried to rain on everyone's parade with logic. Thankfully, his little black raincloud bounced right off Miko and Rafael who were still staring at Elita like she hung the moon.

"Married couples always have wild blackmail!" Miko flailed, throwing her arms up in the air as she grinned. Jack sighed and Rafael secretly adjusted his glasses to try and hide a smile. Elita could feel it right then and there as adoration settled in her spark.

Yes, she was keeping these squishies. She could convince Optimus later.

"I have quite a few stories for you. But only if you promise to not harass Optimus with them. He's got enough going on." Holding up a digit to her derma, Elita smiled as the children each agreed, some more enthusiastically than others.

"We won't bother him. Promise." Rafael's eyes only seemed to be made bigger by his glasses. Elita's spark leapt in its chamber, the cuteness of the scene overriding her usual serious attitude as mischievousness she had long left behind began to resurge.

"Settle down then children. Let me tell you all about Orion's first visit to the docks." Elita could see Optimus out of the corner of her optic looming in the nearby hall. He looked to be mostly uncaring as he waited there, listening in. But she could see the hint of a smile on his features. He wasn't opposed to her decision, giving her all the more reason to tell her tale.

It had been so very long since they'd had anyone who cared enough to hear their story.

[deadpool15]

Million Dollar Baby- Pt1

Aerin Creer shall be the OC for this fic. It will be in parts.

The outfit that she is wearing will always be in the pic above. the character is 23 years old, while Byeon is about 25.

All repressive characters will be the same as before.

So, you guys won her powers, which will be telekinesis

There will be russian in the story and maybe even korean, but I will limit it to little things.

I'm using a translator, so I'm sorry if it's incorrect

Age 9

"You all need to realize there are privileges in this world, and eating is one of them. So, hit harder, or you will starve." A man yells over all the chaos of the fighting children. I never learned their names except Alexi. My torment and pain were caused by him. Though, my entire existence was purely for kicks. Apparently, my overly obsessed mother believed she could create the perfect child for her husband or, more so, my father. He was a powerful man in a country where the only law to exist was his own. Some say he was the devil himself, but all my mother saw was the love of her life. Drugging herself with experiments and foreign concoctions to make the perfect soldier. She died during childbirth, or that's what I like to think. My mother died that night, and some women took care of me for 4 years. Eventually, she had a deal with some goons, taking money she couldn't afford. And in turn, they took her child.

A living nightmare, one way to describe my current situation. We are trained day in and out to be the obedient warriors that will be the next generation for Pavel. It's where I met Ryu Shi-oh or he met me. "Get up and fight. Or your a worthless fucking nobody and we aren't investing time in that bullshit." Alexi screamed at me, after being hit so many times I couldn't get back up. Everything hurt. They had gathered us all around to fight as a presentation to the leaders. Alexi told me if I embarrassed him, he would beat rhe shit out of me. What else was new, though? "Get up right fucking now!" I stared at the ground before something clicked inside of me. It's like I didn't give a single fuck about the outcome. "Shut the fuck up." I stared up at him as if looks could kill hoping he would explode right there before my eyes. All the children turned around, shocked, while stopping. Alexi laughs out loud before shoving me. "Get your fucking hands off me you little dick asshole!" I yelled at him. For the first time in my life I yelled. I was fighting back. Usually, I'm pretty sure he would love this, but since he had thr higher ups here, he was beyond pissed.

I could see Shi-oh in the corner of the room, motioning for me to stop. But this time, I wasn't backing down. Before I could think he punched me. Rocking my body all the way down to the floor. "The fuck did you say, say it again bitch. Go on, I dare you. I'll fucking chop you into pieces and feed you to rhe dogs!" The old me would've sat there in tears, fearing for my life. The silent room was shaken by my loud, obnoxious laugh. If there was one thing I had learned in my lifetime, men wouldn't like to be challenged. He stormed over to me and punched me yet again. Then, I started to kick me in the stop over and over again. Though, I kept laughing, refusing to give him the satisfaction. My ribs were sore, some probably broken before I grew tired of it. I started to cry while laughing, I'm pretty sure I looked like a manic to everyone in the room.

I started yelling stop, I just wanted in to be over. I was done with the pain and suffering. But he kept going, like always no one ever listened to me. Before he reaches to kick me again, a force pushes him back, clasing into the wall. A crack had been heard, and anyone could tell his skull had been split open. Though, he wasn't dead yet, no, not quite. I continue to laugh as everyone backs away from me, I see the higher ups standing from their chairs in amazement and slight fear. I push myself up off the grown and see Alexi. He looked like shit, maybe even worse than me. I turn to look at my broken finger and move to crack it back in place before it does it on its own. I hear whimpering, I turn to the crushed in wall. "Are you fucking crying, you have to be fucking with me right now." I laugh out loud holding my bruised ribs while staring at him. "H-help me." It looked like its body had been piered into the wall, I saw some of his insides. I went to turn until I realized he wasn't going to shut up. The constant whining from the man who loves man. How ironic.

I had no idea what was going on, yet for some reason, my body felt like it was on fire. Everything was so loud. My skin felt itchy, and my head was pounding. My senses felt hyper, and I was overwhelmed by everything around me. What the fuck was happening? "Be quiet....Be quiet." I just wanted it to stop. His cries felt like they were drilling into my skull. Yet he wouldn't stop. I didn't even realize I had thrown my hands up in rhe sir to cover my ears before I screamed out, "MAKE IT STOP!" The lights shattered to the floors, and some of the children dropped dead, with their eyes, nose, and ears leaking blood. Brain particles were scattered across the floor. Alexi was dropped from the wall, yet his head was still inside of the wall. Decapitated completely from his body with pieces of his spinal cord attached to it. I was so exhausted. I only remember myself falling to the ground while seeing Shi-oh running in my direction, screaming.

The Pavel leaders stood up immediately at the sight of everything around them. Some were in complete distress while seeing the future soldiers laying across the floor dead. Yet, the man in charge was only thinking one thing. Magnificent. He couldn't believe his eyes. That child had killed approximately 10 people in a room with so much as moving a muscle or a weapon near. He was used to good fighters, but this was a whole new level. She was the future, and seeing Shi-oh walk right up to her and help was just simply the best. The young boy whole showed promise faithfully in love with the girl who had mysterious abilities all in his hands. Seems everything would work out. "My precious дети." Oo, did he have plans for them. They would take everything, their futures were so bright. He would make sure they stayed on the path.

Present time

I stepped out of my car, grabbing my cat. All gifts from a certain someone whom I was visiting. Noticing a black jeep trying to be secretive, yet I paid no mind to it. Making my way inside of the building. Needing no introduction considering everyone knows who I am. Or just my status, one would say. "He is right in his office ma'am though he is busy with a worker." His secretary tells me while looking around nervously. "Never too busy for me, though, right?" He just nods and leads me to the door. We make it there with him trying to knock before I feel like this is all taking too long and pushing the door open. I hear him telling me to wait a moment, but it falls to deaf ears. I walked in, noticing now while he wanted me to wait. A girl around my height is sitting down, talking to Shi-oh. They haven't noticed me yet, so I sat there and waited in silence until she passed him her phone and he put his number in. Eventually, she leaves while she notices my presence and smiles at me while saying hi. I give her a fake smile and walk father in the room.

"The fuck was that, huh?" He turns around finally seeing me. Walking over and hugging while lifting me off the ground. Still holding me the air, which is easy due to our size difference. "My beautiful лепесток. What are you doing here?" I stared at him. He always had a habit of making it difficult to angry at him. "I was coming to see you." I motion for him to lower me down, and I sit my cat on the floor. Watching it walk around the office, I get startled again when he picks me up and sits down in his chair at his desk with me on his lap. "Before you get ready to hurt me, I was simply recruiting her to a higher position." I poke my finger deeply into his chest. "Why you wanna fuck her?" He slowly looks up, as if he is thinking about the question. While he is doing that, the objects start to lift around the room, and he takes notice. "No,I don't want to fuck her or anything like that. But she is strong, very strong. I've seen it first hand лепесток. She will be uselful." I simply smile at him before I peck his lips.

Moving closer on his lap, I start to slowly kiss his lips again. Getting lost in the plump lips I love so much. Before he reaches my face to take my shades off. He lowers his hands and grips my hips. "You are so fucking beautiful, baby. Why the fuck would I want her when I have all this." I start to grind on his lap, while the desk moves backward. Needing more room. "And don't you forget it. Gonna change the world, baby."

I'll post every Saturday for this story.

Taglist: @seonghwaexile

[strgrlxox]

𓆞 something beautiful 🐚

🌊  ↺ okay it's been a whileee holy shit also i half-assed the proof-reading so if u see any mistakes...no u don't (be gentle w me, okay??) 😭:/ ❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ ellie's looking mighty edible in that picture also 🤤 ↺ 🌊

--

🌊 || SUMMARY :: your first time w ellie

🌊 || CONTAINS :: horny!reader lmao. take a hit every time i say the word "need" and ur lungs might explode. oral (r). fingering (e). unrealistic couch sex lmao.

🌊 || WORD COUNT :: 2.3k

she was absolutely lethal. perfect and methodical and addicting and lethal. all day, your mind raced with a million and one thoughts, all of which led back to ellie. always ellie. you needed her, desperately, and it killed you.

the relationship was fairly new, the two of you have never gone farther than a few heated kisses that only left you panting and starved. you were pretty good at maintaining your composure for the most part...but not today. not with the dream you had about her last night.

ellie had invited you over to hers, and even though something in your face seemed hesitant, you were quick to agree which she was overjoyed about. she had missed you and was excited to see you again.

even though you tried your best to mask it, ellie could still tell something was bugging you as soon as you stepped through the door. she could hear it in the way the door slammed shut, she could feel it when you threw your keys on the table near the entrance. you were ravenous, the desire to feel her growing much too persistent to ignore. you could only hope that maybe you'd get lucky, that she'd notice and take care of you.

unfortunately for you, ellie mistook your need for anger. she just assumed you had a bad day at work.

"are you okay?" she speaks gently, so softly it breaks you. you mumble a reply under your breath, not trusting your voice to conceal how you truly feel. your plan was to let the feeling fester until it (eventually) simmered down. 

ellie, however, didn’t seem to agree with your unspoken “plan”. she had never seen you this dismayed. tired? of course. annoyed? sure. but whatever happened today left you in a state she couldn't quite pinpoint. she contemplates pushing until you tell her the root of the problem but decides against it, figuring you'll tell her when you're ready.

you sit next to her on the couch, doing your best to participate in conversation like you normally would...but fuck does she make it hard. why did she have to look so good? 

she felt your stare. "what are you thinking about?" she asks in a sing song-y voice.

you, always you. you fought hard to shake the thoughts away, hating that her voice was silk and unknowingly seductive. 

"babe?"

she's speaking but you can barely hear her over your thoughts.

"babe?" she calls out harsher to garner your attention. it reminds you of how it feels when she plays rough with you. pinning you down, straddling you. what always started as something silly quickly turned into a heated kiss after your laughs died down. 

but there were gentler times also––––much more tranquil and dreamlike. like when she'd ask you to be still so she could craft your beauty onto a blank page or a bare canvas––––sometimes, she told you to pose so she could snap pictures of you on her camera or on her phone when she felt particularly sappy. she liked to look at them when she missed you but she'd never admit that to you.

"are you feeling okay?" the concern in her voice almost makes you laugh.

you hum. 

"yeah, ellie. i feel fine." it's a lie, purely for survival. her eyes squint and she looks at you like she can see right through you, you really wish she could. 

"i know when you're lying."

she waits for a response but you don't give one.

"just tell me what's wrong so i can fix it." she almost whines. you like the way it sounds, it only fuels your need. "let me help."

you shut your eyes and her hands cup your cheeks, the warmth of her palms spreading over your skin. you can hear it when she starts to speak again, words as gentle as her hands, but you cut her off.

"just kiss me, ellie." she seems caught off guard by the sudden request and hesitates. so with the sweetest voice you can muster, you whisper a soft. "please."

ellie groaned at the plea. the sound is primal and desperate. she could never deny you. not when you sounded so wanting––––so beautiful, so good. her hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling you into her as she leans in. you follow her mouth like it's magnetic. the kiss is passionate and intense, and you melt into her. you love the way she could always kiss you and make you forget everything––––how to stand and how to breathe. sometimes, when ellie would kiss you, you’d forget about all the air in the world except for what was in her lungs. you let your hands dance in her hair as you smile into her mouth, letting her taste you.

"i need you ellie." you pant against her open mouth and she listens to your every word with rapt attention. "i need you so bad."

she looks at you like you've answered her every prayer. swallowing deeply, breath fanning softly over your face. "are you sure?"

you groan, pulling her mouth to yours again just to taste her before pulling away.

"yeah, okay." she consumed your mouth again––––sucking your tongue into hers, pulling you as close to her as she possibly could. you straddle her lap, and you can feel the sharp intake of breath she takes when you let your kisses trail down her neck. 

you whine against her skin before pulling back and tilting your head, giving her your neck to taste. her hands feeling all over your skin like she couldn't touch you everywhere at once. her palms are a comfort as they rub soothing circles on your hips. she can sense your overwhelming exhilaration and she's trying to calm you. 

"tell me..." her breaths are heavy and her voice is filled with lust. "what you want or you get nothing."

you whimper, grinding your hips against hers once––––desperate for some kind of friction. "want you."

she smiles. "you already have me, baby––––you know that. try harder."

the whine that leaves your mouth is pathetic.

"i want you to fuck me. i wanna be embarrassed tomorrow because all i can think about is what you did to me and how much i loved it." you moan in her ear, it's thin and needy.

she inhales quickly, a slow shudder trailing over her body. "lay back for me, babe."

the groan in her voice is enough to catch your attention and compel you to obey her command. you let your body rest against the couch. 

she is gentle. removing your shirt slowly and kissing softly on your exposed skin. leaving some marks as she trails down your body, lifting your skirt up over your hips. "can i taste you, baby?" 

you hum at her, nodding eagerly. she chuckles up at you, placing a few chaste kisses on your left thigh before doing the same to your right. she moves your panties to one side, and you can't help but shiver at her heavy breaths against your core.

"fuck, baby," she's panting, lips agape as she lets her finger run over your entrance. "you're so wet, already..."

her gaze meets yours and though you want to, you can't bring yourself to look away. you look in her eyes and you can see the change. the moment when her want turned into need. when her craving for you grew past the point of return. "how long have you wanted this?"

you whimper, finally willing yourself to break away from her stare. "so fucking long."

she laughs again, shaking her head and then placing a little kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting. "you could've just asked, babe," 

she flattened her tongue, licking from your entrance to just below your clit before moving back down.

"i'll know––––" your voice gets caught on a moan when she lets the tip of her tongue flick across you. "fuck, i'll know for next time."

she hums into you, the vibrations make your eyes water. you shut your eyes, your chest heaving. because as good as you imagined sex with ellie would be, your imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. the way she holds your legs open so that she can devour you properly. how she sucks and licks and lets her fingers fuck into you. and when she looks up at you so that she can see all the pretty faces you make and you can see how fucking pussy drunk she looks. she moans into you, humping into the couch because the taste of you turns her on so much it aches.

you squirm when she sucks at your clit, hard then soft, but she maintains a strong grip on your thighs, keeping you firmly pressed into her mouth. she got a taste of you and she was fucking reeling, she wasn't gonna let you run.

"fuck, ellie." you whine again, your hand flying to her hair. "it feels so good, i'm so fucking close." 

she flattens her tongue again before pulling away and letting her face rest on your thigh. you go to object but it turns into another moan when she starts to finger-fuck you harder. "yeah? i can feel you squeezing me."

you would've been embarrassed if it didn't feel so good. 

"it's like you're trying to trap me inside you." she coos, her free hand still holding your thigh. "it's okay, i got you. let it all out for me."

and then her mouth is on you again, she's taking everything you have to give and begging you for more. all the tenderness in movements has vanished, it's quickly replaced with pure desperation. she's desperate to make you cum, to feel you tremble around her fingers, to taste the glories of your rapture. she needs it, maybe as much as you do. her fingers speed up and her tongue becomes more erratic. just sucking and licking like a woman gone mad until all you can do is slump in her hold and watch as she consumes you. 

she's practically growling into your core, it says 'take it, take it, take it' and you comply. you take what she's giving you until it's all you can feel. until all the noises go away, you're whole body clenches, and you cum all over her face. 

she licks it up greedily and you whine, trying to push her away. 

"be still. this is what you wanted, isn't it?" it's the most forceful she's ever spoken to you but you don't think twice about whimpering in surrender. "you've made such a mess...someone has to clean you up, hm?"

so she does–––––licking you up, moaning into you until you're crying from the overstimulation and she takes pity on you.

"okay, sweet girl." she coos when she sits up and you're still trembling. "you did so good for me, taste so sweet."

you laugh weakly, reaching for her so that she can kiss you. she smiles into your lips. "your turn now."

she laughs, shaking her head. but you can look in her eyes and tell it takes everything in her to deny your request. "you don't gotta worry about me."

you pout tiredly letting your hands meet her waist so that you can unbutton her jeans. she breathes heavily into your mouth, while you tug the denim down her legs––––she helps you, shimming out of her pants. ellie climbs so that she's hovering over your lap. you shoved your hands into her boxers, face softening when she whimpers. your fingers rubbed soft circles over her already soaking clit. "are you sure you don't want me to help you?"

she's looking at you with pleading eyes, practically drooling over you.

"want your fingers, baby." she kisses you again, and you bite her lip. "wanna feel you inside me, please."

you're high off the contrast, how easily she could go from so demanding to begging for you. she kisses you again while you slide one finger inside her aching cunt, then one more. you give her your neck to grip while you make contact with her. you bite your lip at her look of embarrassment because of how easily your fingers slid in.

"holy shit," she moans out, louder than she probably meant to but your fingers are curled inside her just right and it feels so perfect. "fuck, baby, you feel so good."

you hum, picking up the pace and relishing in all the pretty sounds she makes, all the moans and gentle breaths of your name. 

"you're so pretty, ellie." 

"thank––thank you." she half laughs and half whimpers. "you're pretty too"

you smile up at her, picking up your pace a little. you curl your fingers into her and her lips mold into an 'o' shape as a long moan leaves her agape mouth.

"right there, baby?" you hum, observing the way her legs are already trembling. 

"right," she hitches, her vision blacking out for a second. "there."

her mouth meets yours again so that you can taste her ecstasy. the closer she gets the slower her kisses grow until she's moaning against your lips and her legs are shaking through her orgasm. you rode it out for her before taking your fingers out of her trembling cunt. you couldn’t stop yourself from tasting the mess she made, moaning around your fingers as her flavor melted on your tongue. “mmm, tastes so good."

for a while, you just sit there, basking in your leisure and the warmth of her body heat. she reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing her sketchbook and pen. 

she leans back so that her back is pressed against the armrest of the couch, gesturing for you to lean into her. you cuddle into her side, watching her silently as she starts sketching. she doesn't speak and you don't either. you simply watch her while she makes something beautiful.

[webslingingslasher]

‘taking a few minutes to calm down so that they don't explode the moment they start talking’ 🙏🙏

Peter is using his breathing methods. 

Inhale four seconds through the nose, exhale for eight. He’s done this three times now and each time he hears you giggle at his frustration he needs to breathe in more. His thumb and index finger are pinching at the bridge of his nose. 

“You alright there, petey?” 

Your humor makes him aggravated, it’s worse because he knows you like this. You are taking enjoyment in seeing him so livid, you’ve just never seen him so annoyed he has to use a breathing tactic on you. 

“I should ask you that, honey.” His words were gentle, his tone was fierce. You giggle more, especially when he takes a sharp inhale when your heel hits against the kitchen cabinet where you kick them back and forth. 

“Oh, I'm just fine. I have my own superhero here to patch me up.” 

His gaze cuts to yours, he has a fire in his eyes you want to see engulf him. He looks at your knee and the fire dies, finally he clicks his teeth. 

“I told you not to run around with socks on.” 

Peter was careful with his words, he needed a minute because he would’ve lost it without it. He’s told you a million times not to run around his place in socks, but you still did and he’s had to catch you at the last second a million times. 

This time he was too late, he was in the bathroom when he heard a thud. After about ten seconds he heard you call out, “petey, I hurt myself.” Sure enough he sees you folded on the floor, a pout taken over your face. “I was trying to do the risky business slide but I fell on my knee.” 

Without a word he picked you up to carry you to the kitchen, the way you threw your arm around his neck and squealed out a ‘weeee,’ had him slightly seething. He wasn’t around to catch you this time, and next time he may not be there either. Next time your head could go through a wall, then he wouldn’t have a girlfriend. 

Hence the breathing exercise. 

“I wasn’t! I was sliding with socks on.” 

His thumb glides across the graze, it was hardwood floors so it didn’t cut you, it was like carpet burn but worse. You hiss when he touches it, it’s a bright red and burns. “Hurts?” It didn’t at first but now it did, you frown, “yeah.” 

“Poor baby,” he looks for the first aid, then looks at you when he has the box open, you’re better at this than him, and that’s saying something coming from the Queens nightly hero.

“Should I do burn cream or neosporin?” 

You panic and push his hand away, “no cream! No touch, no thank you.” 

It was a minor flesh wound, but one that required a bit of attention nonetheless. You didn’t want him touching it, let alone rub something on it, it hurt enough just thinking about poking it. 

“Baby, I gotta put something on it, it looks angry.” 

You huff, “and I will too if you put something on it.”

“Neosporin on the bandaid?” He’s trying to compromise here, you look him up and down, “fine.” 

Peter pulls a large band aid from the box and a tube of neosporin, he delicately spreads the soothing cream on the back of the band aid, then places it on your knee, before you can say thank you he bends to place a light kiss on the wound. 

“No more running in socks, doctor's orders.” 

You groan, “but doctor, I was sliding!” 

[webslinger-holland]

The Emperor of Magic | Prologue

Summary: More feared than the Shadow Summoner himself and more powerful than the Sun Summoner could even imagine, the Emperor of Magic is the only known human to be able to manipulate magic. Having only been a myth up until this point, Kaz Brekker sets out to take her captive in hopes of making himself rich in the process…

Warning: +18 Warning, mentions of gruesome deaths, person taken into captivity

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Series

Word Count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

It had been three and a half years. Any spare moment was spent keened over a desk looking at outdated documents, old records, and even ancient books. Plans had been laid out, but were often discarded once a flaw presented itself. The rumor had started three and a half years ago; that there had been a sighting of what ancient texts called ‘The Emperor of Magic.’

This was no ordinary human being. They couldn’t be classified as Grisha since they only performed small science. They are only able to manipulate things. The Emperor was able to craft, wield, and destroy anything. They are the only known being to control magic.

There were theories that tried to reason and explain the power and extent of magic. The Emperor needs to see a victim in order to inflict order and control their mind. The Emperor must touch a victim’s skin to possess them. The Emperor need only hear their victim’s voice to be able to control their every thought. Though the wildest theory claimed the Emperor doesn’t need to see, touch, or hear anybody in order to control them. They are already all-knowing. Therefore, they could control.

More feared than the Shadow Summoner himself and more powerful than the Sun Summoner could ever imagine. The Emperor of Magic rose above all others. Their power was not limited to one area like the Grisha. They had the ability to control anything and anyone.

The Emperor was not viewed as a Saint; they were viewed as a demon from the depths of hell. A man had died the most impossible death; his head exploded into millions of pieces. Some witnesses were around when the incident happened and called the authorities. Now someone had been taken into custody.

Due to the extent of the incident, the leaders of the three nations called a meeting to discuss what should happen next. They met in Ravka. In the Little Palace, they attempted to come to an agreement as to what should be done about this new threat to their world.

While Ravka, Fjerda, and Shu Han had their differences in the past, they were willing to work together to come to a solution about this issue. If they refused to work together, their countries might cease to exist in a few years time or they might lose their thrones of power. They needed to find a solution.

“She went willingly. Didn’t put up a fight,” the King of Ravka explained to them. ��She very well could have taken down my entire army if she wanted to, but she didn’t.”

“Are we absolutely certain it was her?” The Taban Queen of Shu Han spoke.

“Once she was in custody, she killed two more guards the same way,” The King of Ravka claimed. “It is most certainly her.”

“How was she detained?” The King of Fjerda asked in a thick heavy accent. He had obviously heard about the extent of her powers.

“My soldiers took her by surprise,” the King of Ravka boasted. “They covered her eyes with a bag and put muffs over her ears. Stuffed a gag in her mouth so she could not speak and bound her wrists so she couldn’t perform any magic.”

“Where is she now?” The Taban Queen of Shu Han wondered.

“She is currently being kept in a high security prison. Though I fear the cell is not built to contain someone as gifted as her. She needs to be kept in an impenetrable place,” the King of Ravka said slowly.

The Ravkan King’s eyes had shifted to the King of Fjerda. The Ice Court was a military stronghold that was truly impenetrable. Many of the druskelle were tasked with guarding the high-security prison, keeping track of all prisoners. The King of Ravka knew that the Ice Court would be the only place that would be able to contain someone of such power.

“You don’t think she would be able to escape the cells?” The King of Fjerda questioned. “She can control anything; she could make her way out of a flimsy cell.”

“That’s why I’d like to send a Fabrikator to construct a cell to hold her,” the King proposed. But this only caused the King of Fjerda to laugh.

“I would never allow the likes of Grisha into my court,” the King of Fjerda seethed in threat. His people liked to hunt those who could manipulate small science. They found so much pleasure in killing them.

“Then say she does escape. Don’t you think she’ll want to take us out first?” The King of Ravka explained. This only caused the other king to frown. “She is called ‘the Emperor’ for a reason. She won’t need kings or queens once she is in power. She’ll take our thrones if we do not stop her now.”

“You can stop her by killing her,” the Fjerdan spat. “Strike her down where she stands. The demon does not deserve to live.”

“But she could be of great use to us,” the Queen of Shu Han spoke up. Her people were known for conducting scientific experiments and inflicting inhumane treatment onto the Grisha. “If we could harness that power, we’d be able to control our enemies,” the Queen grew excited from the thought alone.

“Exactly,” the King of Ravka nodded. “She’d become our greatest weapon.”

The three leaders agreed that they liked power and they’d like to remain in power. By eliminating the threat, they’d have very little to gain from it. However, if they were able to obtain that power of magic somehow, they’d be able to weaponize it and use it against their enemies. They’d be unstoppable.

So they crafted a legal document in which they all had to agree to and sign. In the document, Ravka would supply the materials needed to contain the threat. The Fabrikators would have to create a cell that could contain such power. They’d also be tasked with crafting the proper attire that would render her imobile and make it so she could not use her magic. The Fjerdan would provide the space to contain her and the people to guard her. The druskelle were known to be some of the best soldiers in the world. The Shu would provide the knowledge. They’d send scientists to perform the experiments needed to figure out how to harness the power of magic.

Each nation had a part to play. And it was going to work in their favor.

That meeting happened three and a half years ago. There was no evidence that the meeting ever happened besides the legal document which explained each nation’s part to play in the whole scheme. Only one person had lived to see the incident happen that resulted in the death of a man. That is how the rumor started.

The Emperor of Magic had been sighted, but there was little evidence to prove it. The man claimed that the authorities took her into custody, but neither the captive or the guardsmen were ever seen again. The man who claimed to see all of this was starting to go crazy, becoming a theorist whose ideas sounded extreme.

The rumors spread across the lands and fell on ears. Many people chose not to believe the man, insisting that there was no such thing as magic and whatever he had seen was just make believe. Some people were most intrigued by his stories and wondered what truly happened to the person captured.

The Little Palace kept the legal document of evidence in a sealed vault. The document had actually never been seen by anybody other than the three people who had signed it. However, unbeknownst to the three rulers, the legal document that was currently sitting in the vault was not the original copy.

About three years ago, a small group of criminals had broken into the palace on a completely unrelated heist. Their true intent was to capture the Sun Summoner who had just recently been discovered. But one of the members stumbled across a secure vault.

He had a thing for lockpicking. When he was able to open the vault, he was slightly surprised to see a single piece of paper inside. He took it without hesitation, coming to believe it must have had some type of significance if it was locked away. He quickly crafted a replica and forged signatures before slipping the copy into the vault.

Kaz Brekker was able to find the one piece of evidence and quickly became obsessed with it. For the next three years, Kaz studied that single piece of flimsy paper until the edges became worn and the paper grew discolored. He tried finding old reports on abnormal or supernatural behavior. He pulled out old records of prisoners kept in the court. He even read ancient texts which described the emperor’s power.

Why the fascination? Why the obsession over a mere myth? The answer was clear to him.

He didn’t believe in saints or demons. He didn’t care about people who could manipulate small science or people who could control magic. What he saw was an opportunity to make him rich beyond his wildest dreams.

If other people in power knew about this potential weapon, how much would they be willing to pay for it? If he managed to break her out of prison and keep her captive himself, what kind of power would he possess?  Power. Money. Control.

He began crafting the ultimate heist. He recovered old maps of the court they had made during their first heist as a full crew. He studied the old myths to become more knowledgeable in the kind of threat they’d be facing. Wanting to keep his whole crew alive if possible, Kaz was making sure every aspect assured their safety.

They couldn’t be seen by the emperor. They couldn’t be heard by the emperor. And they could not touch the emperor. But Kaz somehow devised a plan to get the emperor out of prison. 

It took him three years. He lost count of the amount of paper he’d gone through. He spent too many hours studying those old documents. He also didn’t relay any details to the rest of his crew. At least, not until he was able to perfect his plan. 

Finally, after three years, Kaz was content with the looks of his heist. He looked over the plans once more. He managed to break into the Ice Court once. How hard could it be doing it again?

THOUGHTS ON THE NEW SERIES?

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Rational Fear

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fear of needles, fear of getting blood drawn, fluff at the end

Request by @sylvanianlucy: could you write somethign about the reader being afraid of needles. i'm REALLY scared of them and still cry when i get shots no matter how old I am. Thank you!

Summary: you are deathly afraid of needles and you have an appointment to get your blood drawn coming up. How will you ever be okay with going?

Square Filled: grabbed by the chin for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Today is not your best day. Things started going wrong the second you woke up. You slept through your phone alarms, there was no hot water for your shower, your coffee machine exploded on you which caused you to go change, and the bus was late to pick you up. You don’t own a car since you live so close to work that you can take the bus.

All of this is the reason why you have been chewing on your nails since the moment you got onto the bus, and why your hair is a tangled mess from you pulling on it. Not to mention you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so your eyes are a bit red.

You keep your head down when you walk into the bullpen. The B Team is in the air today, so you have a day of catching up on paperwork. If you’re lucky, you don’t have to talk to anyone. Everyone is in the break room getting their daily dose of caffeine so you quickly hide at your desk and pretend to be super busy so they won’t bother you.

When you log into your computer, a calendar notification pops up on the top right of the screen. When you read it, your blood instantly turns to ice. A chill runs down your spine as fear seeps into your skin. Just breathe, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. In… Out… You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the notification so you wait until it disappears. It’s gone but the fear is still there.

There’s nothing to be scared of. No one dies from having their blood taken. A medical professional is going to be there the entire time. They know what they’re doing. They do it every day to millions of people. You’re being irrational. Then why are your palms sweaty, your heart racing, and your entire body shivering? Even the thought of being anywhere near needles makes your blood run cold. You hate needles. You hate what they look like. You hate the thought of one. You hate one making contact with your skin.

Even as a child, needles scared the shit out of you. You’d watch horror movies that involve them which would scare the shit out of you. People in those movies would always misuse them for nefarious purposes, and your little brain thought that’s what people actually did in real life. Nothing traumatic happened to you involving needles but something doesn’t have to be traumatic for you to fear it.

This is one of those times.

Emily walks in with two coffees in her hand; one for you and one for her. It doesn’t matter if you’ve made one for yourself in the break room because she always has the better kind. She sees you at your desk and hops over with a smile on her face.

“I have a present for you,” she sings. When you don’t turn to face her, her smile is lost. She sets both coffees on her desk and looks at you to see just how much of a mess you are. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” All you can do is shake your head. “Would you like to go somewhere more private?” You nod. “Come on.”

She takes your hand and notices how clammy it is. You’re nervous about something and she is going to be there for whatever it is. She takes you to an empty office and closes the door to ensure privacy. If this were anyone else, you wouldn’t think about spilling but this is Emily. You have a massive crush on her and she is your biggest supporter in everything you do.

“I have an appointment today after work,” you whisper and look down. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?” she asks kindly.

“I have to get my blood drawn. I’m terrified of needles. I don’t know why I am. All I know is that I even think about them and my whole body freezes. I know it’s childish,” you sigh.

Emily gently grabs your chin and lifts it so you’re looking up at her.

“No fear is childish. If it scares you, then it’s real. It’s okay to be scared of needles. It’s not an uncommon fear.”

“But I don’t have a legitimate reason to be scared of them. I wasn’t traumatized or anything. I’m just scared of them.”

“That doesn’t matter. A fear is a fear and it’s valid because it affects you.”

“I don’t want to go to the doctor’s alone.”

“Who says you have to be alone?” she grins and sits next to you.

“You’d come with me?”

“I’d go with you to the end of the world if you asked me to. I’m going to be right there next to you,” she grabs your hand, “holding your hand.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Anything for you. I mean it,” she smiles back.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[superpowered-dirt]

i never post on here but i have so much in my head about twd: the ones who live i honestly feel like i might explode.

i know all anyone really wants to talk about from episode 2 is That Part of their reunion (which is fair, don't ask me how many times I rewatched it), but now, the part that keeps playing over and over again in my head is this tiny bit:

and i just need to say, danai and andy are so insanely talented bc this clip?? this clip—short as it is, with not a world of dialogue—says SO much about where our two characters are at.

first, rick. i watch this clip and i think holy shit, yeah, that is a broken man. andy does a masterful job at displaying through his eyes and the way he carries himself the extent of the psychological damage and anguish within rick, not to mention the guilt he carries. you can see the gears turning in his head as he reminds himself how he basically gave up on her. how he gave up on himself. how he told himself that he was done, he was never seeing her again, and let himself fold into the CRM. i think it's safe to say he hates himself for his choice to move on. he's utterly crushed by it. like look at him, he can't even meet her eyes!!

and michonne? she sees it. once the euphoria of I Found You has begun to wear off and she lets herself really take him in, she immediately clocks that this is not the same rick that "died" on the bridge. not the rick that led alexandria. not the rick that got them out of terminus. and definitely not the rick that stood up to the saviors. in fact, the last time she saw this version of him, it was right after the first time they ever lost to negan, and that horrifies her, because if that rick is back, then something truly terrible has happened. the look on her face in the clip says a million things, but most loudly, she's wondering, understandably and devastatingly, "my love, what have they done to you?"

the final clue for her that her rick is gone, at least for now, is their next interaction. since forever, both of their instincts anytime they've been told that something bad is coming their way have been to either hoof it for the safety of their family or stand back to back and dispatch the threat. it's the panic in his voice, the sheer desperation as he pleads with her to stand down instead and hide herself after she suggests they go that tells her she has no idea what he's been through or what she's in for now that she's in the shit with him. and even now, if the trailer for E03 has been any indication, she still fails to grasp the danger they're both in. i know what people online have been saying, but she's not being careless, this is michonne we're talking about, she just doesn't understand how careful she really has to be. and then throw jadis and her bitch ass bowl cut into the mix and suddenly a whole new threat looms over alexandria and the commonwealth that ultimately all comes back on rick too? the guilt he now has to face for not only dragging his wife into his mess, but through jadis, also his daughter and all his friends?? and if he finds out now that he has a son too, then there's even more guilt??????

i could go on for hours but i won't. all i'll say is that we're definitely in for such an emotional ride tomorrow. and really there's no one else i trust more than andy and danai to deliver that for us.

[credince--writes]

Deep In Those Woods 6

Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

AO3

Masterlist

You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.

A/N:

DID SOMEONE SAY WORLDBUILDING AND SEXUALLLLL TENSION?

I did :)

Sorry I've been gone so long my appendix fucking exploded

Taglist:

@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper

@biggiecheeselover @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies @noname0756

Keegan stared, mouth opening and trying to speak but nothing coming out- his mind rushing a million miles a minute.

"Because you owe me?" You teased.

He releases a breath. "Yea, Princess. Because I owe you."

You were angry, rightfully so-

You felt you were further past this, but at the same time, you really didn't know each other at all did you?

You knew he muttered in his sleep, softly, and only when he felt warm. He never mumbled when he was cold, he'd curl in on himself

You knew his eyes reminded you of the clear, blue waters of the creeks and rivers that passed over the rocks here.

You knew that even though he'd never say anything, he liked having extra carmelized onions in his food.

Or that he still wouldn't complain, but was always hesitant to eat scrambled eggs for some reason.

"You need to sit down." You all but hissed out, shooing him out of the kitchen and back down onto the couch across the room.

"And you..." Keegan sat down, leaning back into the cushion of the couch and letting out a sigh of relief, the stabbing pain in his side subsiding as he leaned back and relaxed. Trailing off, the glanced out the window, dutifully ignoring the light red tinge of embarrassment that dusted onto his face understanding that yes, you were right about his exertion.

He needed to dial it back if he ever wanted to get better.

He'd been hurt worse before, he argued, he shouldn't be complacent in a stranger's home just because it was warm.

Just because there were rare occasions where your hand would grace across his skin, his eyes would flutter closed and he could almost forget about how horrible of a man he really was.

He was destined to be buried face down in the Earth, pointed back home in some strange, cold, and hostile land. Not being doted on, and soaking it up like a greedy sponge.

What the fuck is he doing?

He has been MIA for who knows how long- he couldn't keep track of the days in his concussed stupor, but he knows it was more than two weeks minimum of time he'd lost total.

Keegan was angry with himself for letting the time get away from him- but from the dark splotching on his skin he knew that if he had just tried to push it he would've died under the ferns and moss.

That was, if he ever would've managed to get himself out of that creek.

A horrible little part of him knew he wouldn't have.

He needed to get his radio working- he needed to get intel back to base- the fact that there was four unmarked settlements they didn't even know about was concerning. How old was the information they'd sent him out here for based off of?

What he needed was-

“Soup.” You said, almost sheepishly as you sat down next to him, readying yourself to raise the spoon to his lips. His cold blue eyes narrowed on the bowl, forcing him to sit up and reach his hands out to pull it from your grip.

Your cheeks burned, turning your head away and sucked in a deep breath trying not to immediately turn back and react, glance down at his waistband, and argue. Biting your tongue and waiting just a millisecond you gather your thoughts you turned your head back to look at him, the amusement clear in his pale blue eyes.

You quickly stood, excusing yourself and walking outside to take a breath.

The feeling of your warm hands brushing against his chest when you thought he was asleep, selfishly keeping his breathing even to lure your little hands into touching him.

No.

He had pieces of why he'd been sent, he knew the mission. He just lost bits of time to the adrenaline and blood loss as he staggered through the woods and eventually toppled into the creek.

He'd left from Santa Monica nearly two months ago, he knew that. The plane ride, the rinky dinky bush plane if it could even be considered a plane.

It had two wings in flew, he mused to himself, of course, it was a fucking plane.

The heavily wooded areas of the northern segment of the state, while not ravished by the attacks of ODIN had fallen victim to the infestation of Federation soldiers. It was a guerilla war, in the street, woods, the rivers. The cities fell first, but the remote areas were controlled by farmers withheld.

Infrastructure was destroyed, bridges were blown, and entire counties were islanded in a matter of days.

And since they held no real value in the war, they were left alone.

Until five months ago.

The intel was solid, they'd moved in from the coast suddenly, surging into the few remaining skeletons of cities and overwhelming what little military a civilian presence was left.

The question was why.

Nuclear Power.

A small, barely on-the-map city and it's nearly forgotten nuclear power plant was guarded with the minimal military presence that remained in the area. And clearly, the presence wasn't enough.

The rods in the plant could be deconstructed and turned into dirty bombs that could, and more than likely would, wreak havoc on the few remaining 'unscathed' cities of the country.

Keegan called it one of the worst oversights possible-

all they had to do was remove the fucking nuclear components/

But alas, the bridges had been blown up.

Was the justification.

He lived in the woods, deep behind the cover, and stalked, much like the wildlife rampantly taking back over the land. Lurking in the shadows and observing trying to confirm if the plant was being used to convert for weapons of mass destruction.

Or, even more plausibly, to turn the city into one of their most efficiently functioning bases on American soil.

He volunteered himself for the mission, needed some way to escape after the last absolute shit show of a mission that ended with both Hesh and Logan getting hurt. He knew he couldn't have prevented it- it's just something that happens on the job now, but it still melted into his flesh like acid.

He needed time to be alone, time to rethink the events that had happened. What better way to have plenty of time to think than to volunteer to sit in a glorified damp hole for God knows how long and simply wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

It started to become clear that at least for now, the power plant was to stay to its intended use- holding the old employees at gunpoint to ensure that the plant stayed maintained.

He waited some more.

Until the crackling of his radio, quiet in his ear but so loud compared to the silence he'd become accustomed to over the last few days. New intel on a location nestled deep in the woods, five miles from his current vantage point staring down onto the plant.

Well, that's where it went to shit.

The hike wasn't the bad part, neither was the rain, or the mosquitoes, or the run-in with the bear. He could manage all of those things, but he wasn't prepared to see the base. The dingy little thing if it could even be called a base.

He could argue with himself and say he'd stayed in worse, but that was beside the point.

It was the people.

Of course, there would be the locals, they wouldn't be able to sustain the base without their (forced) help of them. He knew that, that was usually how those bases went. Either the locals would be killed on sight, or be forced into laboring for their invaders.

He just never got used to how skinny and hollow they always looked.

So when it was one of the Prisoners who saw past the camouflage and alerted the soldiers, barrels turning and pointing dangerously close to not twigs and leaves- Keegan decided he needed to move.

And he was moving, running- fleeing, for three days.

The delirium of exhaustion caused hallucinations of sounds that weren't really there- soldiers that weren't really there. Getting the drop on him in ways they shouldn't have been able to.

He'll blame it on the exhaustion.

But it seems like some of these soldiers knew the land better than a non-local soldier.

They'd started to convert.

And he ran, until the blade of his knife was dull and blood splattered on the ferns and leaves beneath him. Until his legs gave out from under him.

Until he tumbled into the sweet, cold fresh water of your creek.

Until he felt the first brush of your warm flesh against his.

Maybe he was still delirious.

[kaiso-woo]

Just Stay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> Masterlist

PART 1 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 6.8k | Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition.

Notes: Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Idol!Chan, Barista!Chan, Suic!de (Strong Descriptions), ANGST (LITERALLY EVERYWHERE, NO NEED TO SQUINT), Fluff (At the End)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

PART 1

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

-

What should you do when you witness the end of a life? Cry and wallow in the darkest corners of disconsolation? Feel your heart shatter, a million fractals of sharply glittering reflections exploding in a mere fraction of a second? Some believe time is nothing more than an illusion though – so should you instead decide to lie on your bed, a place of restless solace, and stare up at the empty ceiling?

If this were the case, could you then be compared to a lonely garden gnome, fated to ponder life’s every aspect through a single perspective? Would you shrivel away from the light, choose to accept the pitiful concept of simply existing and allow your garden to wither; green to grey, flesh to bones, petals to stems? Perhaps your coping mechanism is to simply scream. Shut the doors. Close your blinds. Block your ears. Scream. Dry your eyes. Breathe…

Scream.

He does none of those. Instead, his eyes flutter closed momentarily, chest heaving, hands shaking, before he pulls himself away and picks up the computer mouse again. They’re becoming more frequent, or maybe he’s becoming more attune to them.

He doesn’t witness these deaths, exactly. He feels them; what it’s like to have the frigid wind tug at your hair, howling in your ears, the moment of impact with the blistering ground causing him to flinch violently, hand clamped over his mouth in a desperation to quell any yell; what it’s like to have your vision swim, blotting in and out of darkness, your throat constrict as though a pressure is forcing its way from inside out, desperate, erratic gulps for sweet sweet oxygen achieving nothing; what it feels like to stand there, shivering, your heart rate increasing tenfold, breaths quickening to mere pants, as you will every instinct in your body to remain still – ‘do not move’, you think, ‘it’ll be over soon’, you remind yourself, ‘the lights are closer now, and they’re fast, they won’t stop’.

How dearly he wishes for them to stop. 

He’s better at dealing with them now, definitely more subtle. The panic that envelopes him every time he realises something is about to happen however, will never leave him. He’ll drop what he’s holding, frantically disappear into one of the empty rooms in the company building, lock the door and rake a hand through his hair. The number of times the stylists have grumbled at him for messing up his styled hair is limitless, but he doesn’t care, why should he?

The studio door clicks open, and his head snaps to the sound. Immediately, he attempts to steady his breath, and pulls his expression into his signature straight smile :] as Jisung enters the room, a plastic bag filled with takeaway containers in his hand.

“Eh? What’re you doing here…?” Chan grins, his eyes widening dramatically. Swiftly, he swipes his computer mouse to the top of the screen to check the time.

2.23am

“It’s so late Jisung, were you practicing choreo?” he continues, hitting save on his keyboard so he doesn’t accidentally delete his work while distracted. “I brought you food,” Jisung mumbles, lowering it onto the coffee table and carefully unpacking it all. Chan’s mouth begins to salivate excessively as the smell of chicken wafts towards him, but he rubs his face and resists the urge to sit down with Jisung and eat to his heart’s content.

Jisung plucks a drumstick from the box, “Why are you working here alone?” he questions, a sad pout on his chubby cheeks as he wanders over to the computer, careful not to drop any crumbs. Chan shrugs, hoping it’ll satiate Jisung’s concern. 

It doesn’t, of course, and his pout morphs into a small frown. Jisung tries to shove the chicken into Chan’s mouth, offering it to him demandingly. “You eat, you eat,” Chan waves it away and turns back to his computer, “You wanna listen? I think it’s almost finished, something’s just not right with the auto tune… I think. It sounds off,” he picks the headphones off the desk and holds them out for Jisung, who has taken a bite of the chicken happily and is munching away. Again, he tries to give Chan the chicken drumstick, and refuses to take the headphones until Chan is eating the chicken.

As Jisung listens to the song, Chan’s mind drifts back to the corners of his thoughts, the shadows that have been swirling there for a long while now. He doesn’t know when it first began, doesn’t want to remember it to be honest. He was in his room, dozing off into a comfortable sleep, the purple LEDS providing a soft glow to the darkness. 

-

It was abrupt, swinging into him out of nowhere, but he sat bolt upright, hands grappling with the sheets desperately. His vision swam, and he retched on dry air. He groaned and keeled forwards, hands suddenly clutching his chest as it tightened painfully – corkscrewing into his heart, but at the same time it was as though someone was trying to pry it open. He retched again, and he regretted in that moment that he had chosen purple to light his room earlier. The colour was making his head pound, his belongings swimming in and out of his vision, worsened by his unstable swaying.

In a panic, he crawled over to the side of his bed. Then with a last hacking cough, he vomited onto the floor, the acrid taste on his tongue causing him to recoil, the stinging burn in his throat making his eyes water. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t see shit anymore. A dry sob escaped his lips, as he desperately tried to fumble for something to ground him back to reality. He saw speckles – grainy, fuzzy, surreal. 

The world tilts, and maybe he falls off the bed too. And he’s gone.

-

“It’s not the auto tune effect – it’s the timing of the bridge,” Jisung drags Chan back to reality, his head bopping slightly to the music. Chan blinks and scoots aside to allow the younger to fiddle with the computer mouse, rewinding the audio so he can listen again. Chan is finishing off the chicken drumstick, so he hums in acknowledgement instead to Jisung’s feedback. “Yeah, it’s the bridge. The vocals need to be delayed a little,” Jisung concludes, “Want me to fix it up?”

In the silence of the room, Jisung pulls over another chair and gets to work. Chan watches him contentedly for a while, happy to absorb himself in the clicking and tapping of his first child’s proceedings - watching him edit and perfect the track they’ve been working on for the past few months. Jisung glances at Chan, his concentration breaking, “You’re unusually quiet.”

Chan reaches over and squeezes his shoulder comfortingly, “Just thinking.” “Right... well, eat more. And then go to bed,” Jisung insists, briefly squeezing the hand on his shoulder in return. Chan sighs and hoists himself out of his chair, sinking back onto the couch so he can easily dig into the food. “Thanks mate,” he mumbles, and when the man makes no move of acknowledgement, Chan smiles softly and nibbles on some more chicken.

-

He woke that time, on the floor of his bedroom, dangerously close to the stinking heap that was his vomit. His head pounded, a dull ache ringing in his skull as he mustered all his strength to simply stand up and pull over the blinds.

“What the fuck was that?” He groaned, resting his head on the window and basking in the warmth of the early morning sun, so comforting, so full of life – a steady presence. After he spent the next ten minutes gathering his wits and cleaning up the mess, he brushed it off as food poisoning; maybe something in the food Hannah cooked last night (he’d never tell her that, of course).

On another day, in another place, maybe a few weeks from then, he had returned to Korea, jumping straight back into his busy schedule. They were in the middle of an interview, not the first, and certainly not the last. In hindsight, he was thankful he had chosen to stand in the back row. At first he thought he merely needed to cough, a ticklish sensation wrapping around his throat, a ghost of a hand caressing his neck. He swayed dangerously when he felt it tighten harshly, so suddenly, and his heartbeat escalated, his legs becoming jelly. 

His head snapped back as his whole body teetered over the edge of the platform he was standing on. A searing pain blazed across his neck for a second, causing him to grapple with it in shock. Changbin grabbed his arm at that point, preventing him from completely falling over backwards.

“You okay?” he whispered, careful not to draw too much attention to the pair, professional as always. Chan corrected himself and tried to control his breathing, forcibly inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils. He pulled a face, his eyes wide, and waved his arms a little, “Thanks. Almost lost my balance there.”

Throughout the rest of the interview, he remained silent, thinking hard. What just happened? And why did it feel like… he had just been… hung?

It took him months to string two and two together, months of spontaneous moments of death, in which he remained alive. He’d be drowned countless times, be stabbed infinitely, shot in the head, electrocuted, run over by train… after train… after train, until he fully accepts that these were all connected.

As time wore on, he began to hear things too, inner monologues he supposed, of their voices. He figured if this condition, whatever it was, lasted long enough, he’d soon be able to see it too.

-

Stay. Just stay. Stay’s. It’s you. You’re not staying. He was burning in the middle of a fire. That much was obvious by the scorching pain on his skin, brutal enough that he just wished he couldn’t feel. He screamed into the couch pillows, knowing full well that the studio was soundproof, but paranoid all the same that any of his members would hear him. 

‘Thank you Stray Kids, for everything.’ 

Stay. He couldn’t tell at this point whether the pain was his or from the person who was dying. Both, perhaps. All this time, the people who were dying, the people who were killing themselves, were Stay’s. Or maybe this time was a coincidence, maybe this person just happened to be a part of the fandom.

It wasn’t though. 

More and more often, in the midst of some version of death, he heard thoughts, whispers:

“You got me this far Stray Kids.” “Skz you’re my everything.” “Keep fighting Stray Kids.”

“Chan, I love you.” “Thank you Chan.” “Life was good thanks to you, Chan.”

Fuck. This. Shit.

Stay.

-

His members were either dense, playing dumb or he was an incredible actor and the sneakiest being on all of planet earth. He had no idea how he had managed to hide this, for so long, and not hear a peep out of any of them.

Sure, he attributed his puffy eyes (from tears) to a lack of sleep, or too much time in front of a computer screen. Maybe his lack of sleep could be contributed to insomnia, not that he genuinely didn’t want to sleep with the fear that he might wake abruptly to a strangling death. Again.

More recently, in an attempt to be more cautious, when that panic settles in - a familiar feeling of fear, 'I can do this. I'm going to do it. I want to die. Do I want to die?' - he'd excuse himself to the bathroom.

“Chan hyung’s gone to the bathroom.” – posts Hyunjin.

Yeah. To die.

-

He yawns, stretching as he returns to the studio from a genuine bathroom break. He’s excited to return to his work; a sample he’d stumbled across waiting to be incorporated into a new song. After he shuts the door, he checks the time on his phone.

There’s an hour and a half until 12am– he needs to do Chan’s Room soon too, it’s Sunday. He was comforted by Chan’s Room, to see so many Stay’s on his lives, thankful to have them there, rather than at the top of a building, or sinking at the bottom of a river. He decides that the sample can wait – it’s saved anyway.

He flipped his black hood over the top of his cap, carefully adjusting it so it was presentable, and began to set up the live. He had a few songs in mind that he’d play for you all but was really hoping you’d contribute to the song suggestions too. He smiled, and he laughed, and he danced along to the songs, joyously reading your comments and responding with enthusiasm despite it getting later into the night.

Then the mood shifted when his eyes skimmed over a particular comment. He froze, and his bubble of security popped. He wasn’t sure if he had managed to blot you out, or if the fear had only crossed through after you had sent that message, but he was positive that the person who typed the question, was the person currently pressing a knife to his heart – a small, sharp prick on his chest.

Chan inhaled sharply and swivelled in his chair, “Yeah don’t… don’t hurt yourself, yeah?” The chat exploded with questions and comments, wondering why he was bringing it up and offering words of comfort. The sharp pain on his chest receded slightly, but the fear was still there, the emotional pain ever present. “Just because you have a lot of stress, it doesn’t mean that you have to relieve it by hurting yourself.”

There. Same user. New comment. ‘Your future isn’t worth living for’? Bullshit.

“If you think about the future… it’s best to just keep away from that and find different ways of relieving stress.” Self-consciously, he fiddles with his hoodie drawstrings and swivels in his chair again, desperate to hide the panic flicker across his features briefly. The knife was back.

“You never know what’s going to happen in the future. Something might go wrong, then there might be a turning point and then- from then on you feel really, really regretful,” he’s rambling at this point, thoughts unhinged, spluttering and mixing like mush in his brain. He just needs to get you to stay. 

He takes a deep breath, and drills his eyes into the camera, pleading with what little he could offer, “If you really, really can’t help it or if you really just don’t know what to do or you’re really- really lost, as I’ve always said,” he smiles, eyes shimmering, “come here; look for me, ask me, talk with me.” He waits, praying, fiddling his thumbs below the desk.

And the agonising feeling fades, leaving him deflated, relieved.

“I’ll try my best to relieve your stress,” he concludes, then spreads his arms wide. He knows Stay didn’t ask for it, but he was offering one of his hugs more for himself than them.

-

His relief would be short-lived. He can’t save everyone.

-

I guess, it’s about time I introduce you. You, not as one of those who have given up. Not as one of those who have caused Chan’s suffering. I introduce you, as simply you. You, who carefully pulls your keys out of the café door. You, who draws down some of the shutters with a soft smile. You, as wonderful, loving, bubbly you.

You make your rounds around your haven, your café. It’s a combination of everything you could possibly imagine to be creative. It’s been your dream to create a safe hub for the public that incorporates a library, a café, study area, art studio, computer labs, rehearsal room and even a recording studio.

Pets were welcome, of all kinds, as long as they wouldn’t fight with each other, and you were open from 7.30am in the morning until 1am the following day.

If anyone fell asleep studying, working on music or reading, you’d leave them where they were and pull out the blankets you kept in storage. The policy for this was simply a bond of trust. Customers could stay working for the night as long as they didn’t mind watching you drift around in the morning in your bedhead and PJ’s, slowly beginning to set up for a new day.

You would always offer them a morning hot chocolate, coffee or tea, free of charge, but more often than not, they’d leave their money on the counter when you turned away, refusing to let you best them in a game of generosity.

Books could be borrowed, studios and study rooms booked, pets left in the backyard day/night day care. Equipment was supplied in all the rooms, instruments for loan, computers to log into, art tools for perusal. The rule for these? Don’t break them. If customers break them, they pay for them.

If something run’s out, let you know. You only offered the basic necessities anyways, so you restocked them yourself. Anything else customers bring for themselves. It was safe. It was cosy. It was yours. Yours to give. Admittedly, you still had to pay off the loan you took out to set up the place, and if time grew short you were considering shutting down the recording studio – it was the least used area. 

You pushed the last few stray chairs in as you considered whether to make yourself a final cup of tea before settling down in your apartment upstairs. There were two people currently dozing in various locations of Café Studio, one of whom was a regular. A third customer was sipping the last dregs of his coffee, watching your humble movements out of the corner of his eye. 

“Mind if I call it a night on one of your couches?” he asks, scraping back his chair to place his mug on the counter by the coffee machine. That’s James. James fucking Jamison. Always here for whatever reason, never not here, where you wanted him to be. You withhold a sigh and the temptation to pinch the bridge of your nose, “Yeah, go for it. You know the drill.”

You welcome all customers, all are valuable guests. Except for him. He just won’t take a hint.

He saunters idly over to you, hands in his pockets, and clears his throat, “So… are you sure you won’t be free any time this week?” You can feel his eyes drilling into your back and scrunch your nose distastefully, pulling out your phone as if to check something, “I can’t, I run this place.”

He’s still staring at you, so you whisk your earphones out from a pocket in your apron and plug them into your ears. It doesn’t take you long to press shuffle on your playlist, and immediately your current favourite song begins to play, as if it knows exactly what would help you through this situation, or maybe they knew. 

“What if you just shut the place down for the day?” he asks with an awkward laugh, running his hand through his hair dramatically. So cool. You roll your eyes and turn around to face him, internally dancing to the song in your ears. You give him a once over, genuinely considering him, “I can’t shut down my only source of income for a day.” “Even for-”

“Especially not for you.” The two of you stare at each other and you can sense that somewhere in those blue eyes of his, you’ve angered him. He’s not pleased, and he never has been with your constant rejections, but so far he hasn’t tried anything. He would be stupid to do so, with surveillance cameras set up everywhere and two customers sleeping not far away.

Go kill yourself.

You wince as sharp pain crackles across your forehead, “Sorry what?”  James blinks at you quizzically, his sizzling demeanour vanishing at your confusing outburst. “I didn’t say anything.”

Go. Kill yourself.

You hiss, hand clutching your forehead, and stumble into the nearest table. James is onto you in a second (“Woah there”) trying to support you, when the table was doing just fine. “Back off,” you snap, pushing him away, which causes you to stumble back into the window, the last one without its shutter pulled down, “and shut up.” Again, he blinks at you, ever the stupid dolt he is.

‘Heh… funny.’ Why’d I say that?

Desperately, you swivel and press your forehead to the cool of the glass window, groaning in agony. The music playing in your earphones becomes too much, so you tug them out of your ears, your phone lighting up on the paused song of “Silent Cry”, by Stray Kids.

I wonder if it’ll still be funny after- if I-

You crack your eyes open and peer outside, dimly trying to discern whether this was a voice in your head, or a voice in real life. It spoke with a pained clarity, exhaustion numbing what could have been a voice of laughter and passion. How you knew this, you had no idea. 

“Hey, are you good? Are you on your period or something?” James piped up helpfully, and if you weren’t so heavily concentrated on scanning your surroundings outside you might have kicked him out of your store right then and there.

Then you spotted someone. A lone figure, shrouded in the hazy glow of a streetlight, leaning over the bridge railing. Café Studio was located on the banks of the local river, wide enough for boats to barge through, deep enough to be terrified of the unknown creatures writhing within.

You watched, the incessant pounding in your head diminishing the longer you stared at the figure. If he wasn’t standing in the middle of the light, you wouldn’t have spotted him in his completely black outfit. Someone certainly wasn’t one for colour. He leaned further over the railing, clutching his beanie to his head as though afraid it would fall off in the wind.

In seconds, you had ripped your phone and headphones from your apron, leaving it on one of the tables, and fumbled with the key to unlock the café door. It was chilly out, but you ignored the goosebumps speckling your skin, and James’ confused fucking shouts – like would the guy stitch his mouth shut please. 

That was him. The idiot leaning too far over the railing was the one whispering nonsense in your brain. How you came to this conclusion was to anyone’s guess, but it was him. In the seconds it had taken you to sprint over to him, he had clambered on top of the railing, balancing precariously, his hands in his hoodie pockets, gazing into the depths of the water.

Maybe in another life, if you weren’t out of breath trying to stop him from ending it all, you might have been enamoured by his features. As you drew closer, you could make out the defined cut of his jaw, his wide shoulders, plush lips tinged with pink from the cold, dark eyes alluringly intimidating. This wasn’t that life though, and you paid no attention to any of it really. 

A dawning realisation settled on your features however, after a brief assessment of his face caused you to realise that you knew him, perhaps not personally, but still knew him. “Bang Chan?” you whisper, the name falling from your lips in a panicked whisper, “Chan no…” your legs work harder, and you pray almost deliriously that he doesn’t do it. Don’t do it. He can’t.

“Bang Chan!” you yell, losing all sense of discipline as he sways gently, contemplating, “Chan!!” he doesn’t appear to hear you, absorbed in his own mind. You’re there, you’re right there, and this time, when you call desperately, “Christopher!” his eyes snap up to meet yours.

It’s this particular moment, that will be ingrained in your mind in the following years. The way his eyes spark in shock at the sight of you, then relax, as though he understands, and has complete control over everything in his life.

Without hesitating, you snatch at his clothes and tug him backwards. His heavy body crashes into yours, but you don’t care. You wrap your arms safely around his waist as you tumble to the paved path in a heaped mess of clothes and limbs. 

He wriggles around in your grasp, trying to position himself more comfortably, and eventually wind up staring each other dead in the face, blinking through your lashes up at him, his palms on either side of your head.

An uncomfortable silence settles between you, fizzing in the limited space between your faces. Then without warning, you roughly shove your hand behind his head and pull him down into a hug, tears beginning to stain your cheeks.

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” you croak, needlessly shoving your hand underneath his beanie so you can tangle it into his curled hair, “What the actual fuck, were you doing?!” you cling to him tighter, and your breath escapes in garbled gasps that quieten to silence when you feel the trickle of wet tears on your neck.

Gently, you remove your hand from his head and relax your body, allowing him to remove himself from you if he so wished. He burrows his face further however, his arms collapsing onto his elbows, and suddenly you can hear him sobbing.

The tears on your neck weren’t your own. He sounds so broken, crying his heart out as though he were a lost little child who dropped his ice cream. The raw emotion and lack of restraint in his sobbing scrapes at the threads of your heart, and again, you’re crying. Crying with him, for him – understanding everything, and nothing at the same time.

Eventually, you wipe the tears from your face, trying to figure out what to do next. You need to comfort him, talk to him, remind him that he’s worth this world, and the world doesn’t deserve him because by god- if anyone knew even a scrap of what this man meant- he’s laughing. Why is he laughing?

His warm breath tickles your neck as he chuckles, his sobs magically morphed into an amused laughter, which is the most concerning thing by far. Chan pulls away from you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughs and hastily dries the tears on his face.

“Sorry. I am so sorry you had to see that,” he grins, and you frown at him. “Sorry I had to see what? You almost jump off a fucking bridge, or your tears? It better not be the latter Christopher, or I’ll gladly rewind time and push you over myself.” Almost immediately, you regret the words tumbling out of your mouth when his face crumbles again, “Would you really?” he whispers, sitting up beside you.

“No. No I was kidding. I was just- you’re allowed to cry, Chan,” you sit up too, and then it’s just the both of you, sitting alone, a strange pair, by the railing of a bridge. “So you know who I am then?” he dutifully asks, gingerly fixing his beanie and offering a small smile.

“Yeah,” you take note of the way his posture deflates, and add quickly, “But it doesn’t matter. None of that matters. What matters is that you tried to…” your words die in your throat at the reproachful glint in his eyes, shimmering eerily in the lamplight. Instead, you stand up and offer him a hand. He cautiously accepts it, allowing you to help him stand with you. “Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you,” you smile, giving his hand a shake. He stares at you, bemused, and shakes your hand back. “Christopher Bahng. And… thanks.” You’re not sure if he’s thanking you for stopping his plummet to death, or for helping him sit up, or for letting him cry… he could be thanking you for a lot of things, so instead, you do the next best option.

“Want to head over to my café? I’ll make you a cup of coffee,” you offer, flicking your head to the still lit building, where fucking James is standing outside, ogling you from afar, his hands on his hips. “Sure… only… I assumed you’d know I don’t drink coffee,” he shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets again, and as your eyes slide from James and then back to the man in front of you, you suddenly struggle to process everything that’s just happened.

“Why would I? We just met,” you flash him a coy smile and lead the way. You stroll into the café, holding the door open for Chris so he can step through, his hands still in his pockets. James makes to follow, but you slam the door shut in his face and lock the door swiftly.

“Uh…” Chris begins, his eyes wide, asking for an explanation. “No questions. He won’t leave me alone, and that’s that,” you grin brightly, then rush to disappear behind the café bar and begin to prepare him a drink. He seats himself on a stool and tries to watch as you work. You grow uncomfortable in the silence, especially with him watching you so closely, so you instinctively begin to ramble.

“This is Café Studio. You might have noticed by the sign out front.”  He nods, indicating he’s paying attention. “I run this place entirely myself, and I live above…” You tell him everything you can think of, from the studios attached to the café, to your favourite pets that frequently get dropped off for day care or overnight stays. His eyes light up when you mention the recording studio, and you have a feeling he’ll go back to the topic after.

In no time, you have two hazelnut croissants prepared, a steaming mug of white hot chocolate for yourself, and a mug of caramel hot chocolate with a dusting of cinnamon for him (you refuse to tell him what’s in his drink, which makes him pout sadly because he loves it). You lapse into silence as you eat and drink, and you know you need to breach the topic again, somehow, you can’t just leave it unattended.

“Can I ask…” you begin, but he interrupts you smoothly. “I just wanted to see what it would look like.”

Chan knew he could never tell you that he’d experienced death a hundred times over in the past months. You’d think him insane.

You knew you could never tell him you heard his voice, loud and clear in your head. He’d think you delusional.

“About that… recording studio… does anyone use it?” he inquisitively asks, and you shake your head sadly in response, wiping croissant crumbs off your face. “Not really… I’m considering selling it. I need to repay the loan I took out, and if the recording room is just dead weight then I don’t see why-” “Don’t. It won’t be dead weight,” he hurries, and is about to say more before he reconsiders, “Mind if I check it out?”

Of course you don’t.

--

Chris returns to his hotel later that morning. It’s 4am by the time you crawl into bed, recounting the events of the day in a sluggish fashion. Only 2 and a half hours ago you had pulled him away from certain death.

A shiver disturbs your spine as you replay the memory, and you curl tighter into your blankets. What if you hadn’t? His inner monologue certainly didn’t sound like he simply just “wanted to see what it looked like.”

-

Somehow, you manage to drag yourself through the rest of the morning, living off a few hours’ sleep at most. Thankfully, there aren’t many customers to begin with, giving you a chance to get organised a little later than usual. Chris had left with a small smile and a wave, and you watched him disappear down the street, a part of you worried he’d decide to try the bridge again.

He returns in the afternoon with the same small smile and wave, shocking you to the core. He’s got a cap pulled low over his eyes, hood pulled neatly up, and a black mask obscuring most of his face.

The only reason you recognise him this time is because of those actions, and the particular way his eyes crinkle, disappearing when he genuinely smiles. Quietly, he asks for the same drink you made him earlier that morning and asks to borrow the recording studio – “change of scenery,” he explains casually.

As the days go by, he visits as often as he can, always with those same twinkling eyes, and always still carefully covered up. You have no idea how he’s managed to convince his company to continuously let him out in public without staff, nor how long he’s staying here for.

He must be on vacation or something because this was certainly not Korea. You frequently check up on him too, never hesitating to ask whether he needs any support. He shakes his head every time and stares at you unblinkingly, trying to convey a message through only his eyes.

You’re already helping him. This haven, your haven, is helping him already. You don’t know this of course. Nor do you know that his odd connection to suicidal Stay’s has ceased. He hasn’t felt them in ages, and in a twisted way, he’s relieved – hasn’t felt this light in a while.

“Mind if I book the whole café out for a day?” he mumbles to you from your side, his hands nimbly working with the coffee machine to produce an order for a customer. One day he had asked if you could teach him a few things on the machine. Before long he knew how to make every drink, and happily watched underneath his mask as customers sipped his creations.

Every drink that is, except for the special one you made for him – it was actually your Mum’s recipe. You refused to teach him, but he could easily figure out the ingredients and method to make it for himself by now, if he really wanted to, which perplexed you every time he asked you to teach him.

Truthfully, he didn’t really want to know. He just liked seeing the tiny crease on your forehead and adorable smile whenever you refused. And now… he had even more reason to come back. For the hot chocolate. Definitely.

“The whole-? Library and everything?” you inquire, as you refill the jar of chai powder. “Mhm,” he hums, nodding to a regular as they float by, “Staff want us to film a Skz-Code Episode while we’re here, and they left it up to us to decide where.” “Oh. Sure. What do you need, for me to close up for the day?”

“I want you to stay though. Don’t disappear upstairs to your apartment… please. Can you stay and… watch?” he innocently asks, and you stare at him in surprise, clipping the jar in your hands shut with a snap, “Am I allowed to?”

-

It turns out that would be their last day. They returned to Korea on the following. In hindsight, you wish you had hugged Chris tighter when he tackled you with one before they left after filming, raising the eyes of several staff members and causing the Skz Members to chuckle with one another.

Chris was hugging you because he would miss you, and he was afraid that if he left, the traumatic episodes would return.

You were hugging him because you were full to the brim with Stray Kids’ warmth and happiness, but also because an unfamiliar safety nestled into your stomach as he hugged you, burying his face into your neck – the same place he had where he first met you.

“See ya soon, mate!” Felix called, carrying a box of your brownies. He had given you his recipe, and you eagerly followed its instructions while you watched them record their episode, smiling contentedly at their tinkering laughter, “These taste better than mine!” 

“No one can beat Felix’s brownies,” Hyunjin muttered through a smile, but he’s happily munching on one of yours all the same. Jisung also has his mouth stuffed, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he nods his head. Seungmin offered you a polite handshake, and Jeongin an energetic round of high fives.

Somewhere in the distance, Changbin calls out your name, and performs a half heart above his head. You complete it, sticking your tongue out playfully. Not surprisingly, you and Chris have to duck back inside the café to hunt down Minho, who’s been playing with the cats left in your care for the day.

You didn’t find out that Stray Kids were leaving until that night when you spotted a live of them on your YouTube at the airport, and your heart plummeted with a sadness you couldn’t explain.

-

What… a strange… dream. 

Everything become’s more surreal when you discover an envelope by the coffee machine the next morning, tucked neatly under the corner where Chris would usually stand to make his coffee’s. You pull it out carefully; there’s no name penned on the front. Curiously you pull out two sheets of paper. The first you open is in Chris’ handwriting (he had been leaving random notes and scribbling his signature wherever he could during his visits, so you were relatively familiar with it now), 

A B C D E F G I wanna send my code to you Eight letters is all it takes And I’m gonna let you know

Lyrics. You flip over the paper and stare in a daze at the phone number scribbled there. Further down the page, there’s more lyrics, but from a different song.

Together, I feel time has flown so fast In my time, memories are crowded I didn’t know the sky was so clear like this until I met you I thought the sun was only scorching Thank you for coming to me And becoming the same shadow as mine before approaching the light

“Chris you cheesy ass,” you laugh, heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest. 

You can STAY.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you almost forget about the second piece of paper. It’s a receipt. And on the bottom, are more words written in his handwriting.

The loan for Café Studio has been paid off, and the rent on your apartment. It’s all yours now. You can thank me when I come back.

Your eyes widen, and a small gasp leaves your lips. You fumble for your phone and add his number to your contacts. Then sparing no second, type out a message.

-

(A/N: When dialogue is in script format, it's meant to represent text messages)

You: “No you did not”

In the few seconds that you stare at your message, that you sent to Chris, disbelief written across your features, your phone buzzes with a response.

Chris: “Oh but I did”

You laugh, the sound gradually increasing as you throw your head back, giddy, a delicate pink tinge warming your cheeks.

“Something good happen?” James interrupts, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get your attention, “No side barista with you today? Who was he anyways, and what was with that mask?” “He’s… a good friend. Care for some tea?” “But I don’t like-” “Perfect.”

-

What should you do when you witness the end of a life? Cry and wallow in the darkest corners of disconsolation? Feel your heart shatter, a million fractals of sharply glittering reflections exploding in a mere fraction of a second? Some believe that time is nothing more than an illusion though – so should you instead decide to lie on your bed, a place of restless solace, and stare up at the empty ceiling?

If this were the case, could you then be compared to a lonely garden gnome, fated to ponder life’s every aspect through a single perspective? Would you shrivel away from the light, choose to accept the pitiful concept of simply existing and allow your garden to wither; green to grey, flesh to bones, petals to stems? Perhaps your coping mechanism is to simply scream. Shut the doors. Close your blinds. Block your ears. Scream. Dry your eyes. Breathe…

-

Chris: “Are you awake?” You: “I am now” Chris: “Sorry go back to sleep” You: “I was kidding Christopher” You: “Of course I’m awake” Chris: “That’s not a good thing” You: “Look who’s talking” You: “Are you all good? Can’t sleep?” Chris: “Just felt like a chat”

-

They only visited him in nightmares, he discovered, which was still an improvement from before. 

-

You: “Sure” You: “Care to explain your latest Insta post?” Chris: “No haha” You: “You burnt Stayville to the ground” You: “I think that deserves an explanation”

-

Chris smiles and flops back into his pillow. It certainly was an improvement from before. His mind was working over the possibilities, the many different choices he could make from here on out. Did you have something to do with this condition? Were you the solution to it all? What was it about you, exactly, that drew him to you?

You can thank me when I come back, he had written.

He thinks… he’ll be back for sure.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 2 -> Masterlist

Yay! Milestone Event 1, Check!

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing or formatting errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

[augiewrites]

"end of beginning" - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n struggles against the ghost of who they used to be (inspired by djo's end of beginning)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader + platonic carmy x reader

word count: 1.1k

continuation of scott street | next

“So you came back just to gentrify the city?” Richie had a smile on his face, but Y/N saw through it. The man didn’t handle change well, and they knew he hated looking around the place he grew up and realizing that nearly everything looked different.

Y/N hated it too, but they knew change was inevitable. Most times it was easier to just accept it, move on, and eventually forget the way things used to be. Some things were more difficult to forget than others, though. “It’s just a coffee shop,” Y/N fought hard to not slip into old, aggressive habits, but it was difficult when it came to dealing with Richie. “And not some corporate bullshit—locally owned, sourced, all that ethical junk.”

He scoffed, “Ain’t it enough that you’re renovating that building? Probably skyrocket rent, force people out, bring in the rich. The hell are you here for, anyway?”

“People were paying way too much for that shithole in the first place. I’m just making it liveable.” Y/N knew it was worthless to fight with him, they might as well be throwing punches at a brick wall. “I’m here to see Carmy. Talk business.”

“You’re roping him into this shit now!? Kid’s brain is already always five seconds away from blowing up.” He cut himself off to give a grandiose greeting to one of the regulars and pass a sandwich to another. “She’s just using Carmy as an excuse to come see me, Jerry,” he playfully whapped the customer’s arm, “I’m irresistible.”

“You’re an unfortunate fixture of this place,” Y/N tossed over their shoulder, walking away toward the little office in the kitchen. There was probably a level of truth to what he was saying, but Y/N would never admit that to him—or themself—in a million years. Chicago reminded them of a version of themself that took a lot of work to leave in the past. People may change as they grow, but the person they used to be never really dies. It just lays dormant, buried deep within until something wakes it up.

Carmy’s hand momentarily clapping them on the shoulder saved them from the downward spiral of introspection. “Sorry, this place is a mess.” He scrambled to move a stack of papers off the spare chair, sitting them on the desk and nearly causing an avalanche. Y/N sat down before he could tell them to. “He bother you? What’s up?”

Y/N suddenly felt bad for taking up Carmy’s offer to go over their business proposal. He barely spared them a glance as he shuffled through papers and periodically rubbed his forehead.

“He always bothers me—I can handle him.” Carmy scoffed, mumbling “sure you can” as he inspected an invoice hopefully before shoving it back into a folder.

“Is this a bad time? I can go if you’re too busy.” Y/N knew their offer was futile—it was always a bad time and Carmy was always busy. He snapped out of his search and gave Y/N an apologetic look. “No, no, I got time. Sorry, I just—”

“I get it, Carm. No need to apologize.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Carmy rubbed his eyes and gave Y/N a quick once-over before giving them a quick smile, “I guess, uh, if anyone gets it, it would be you.”

Y/N held Carmy’s gaze, but they didn’t break the silence. They knew that Carmy had more to say, and the only way to ensure that he’d say it was to leave the ball in his court.

“Some days I feel like my head’s ‘bout to explode,” the ghost of a sad smile was on his face, “but I’d rather keep busy than think too deeply into things.”

The manila envelope in Y/N’s hands mocked them along with Carmy’s words. They both knew Y/N was sinking on the same boat. Y/N could easily deflect by giving him some bullshit advice, but it would just be hypocrisy. The pair fell into a beat of silence as Y/N looked at the floor, contemplating their next steps.

“When I first moved away, I hated coming back to visit. Seeing all the places I used to hang out, the people I used to be close with…” Y/N trailed off for a moment before locking eyes with Carmy, “so I just stopped coming back. Pretended to be someone I’m not in a place I’m not sure I even belonged in. I thought I had changed, but being here just makes me realize that I’m the same person I always was. The same person I’ll probably always be.”

Carmy was softly nodding his head when Y/N continued in a much smaller voice, “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, but it is what it is. Might as well keep going until I can’t anymore.”

He furrowed his brows, frowning a bit, “sorry for making you come here. I know it’s not eas—”

“Jesus, Carmy, quit apologizing.” He wasn’t wrong, though. Y/N felt antsy at the restaurant. There were too many memories in that place—both good and bad—and Richie was a very loud reminder of their past. “If I didn’t want to put up with him—with all of it—I would just not come. Can’t hide forever.”

He made to say more, but was interrupted by a loud “yo!” as Richie’s lanky frame entered the room. “My ears are ringing,” he gently shoved Y/N’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “talking shit?”

“On you? Always.” Y/N wasn’t lying when they said they were fine being around Richie. The man’s presence brought a confusing mixture of anxiety, anger, and comfort. There’s no fool like an old fool—whatever that means.

Y/N fell into their own thoughts as the two men argued about the front of house coverage. They were pulled back into reality when they heard Tina yelling for Carmy in the kitchen. Y/N didn’t realize they were staring at Richie until Carmy passed in front of him to leave. Richie furrowed his brow as he looked back at Y/N.

“You good? You look like shit—got that thousand yard stare.”

“I’m fine.” The pair slipped into a staring competition. This wasn’t a conversation Y/N wanted to have, and they could feel him inspecting the darkening circles under their eyes and their frizzy hair.

He broke the silence, “what are we?”

“I know you’re not asking me this question right now,” Y/N sputtered.

“I mean, we’re friends, right?” Richie gestured vaguely between them, and the scattered mess of thoughts Y/N had been having for the past few months dropped on their head like a bucket of cold water.

“I don’t know, Richie.”

His head bobbed as he turned to the doorway, offering Y/N nothing in response but a mumbled “right.” He didn’t look back, and Y/N didn’t follow.

Y/N wasn’t sure if they knew the answer to that question back when they were together, and they sure as hell didn’t know the answer now.

~~~

part three

[casdeans-pie]

Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.

Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao

This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!

Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.

There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.

The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.

Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.

Dean had to do something on his own.

He had to.

He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.

------

Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.

Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.

“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.

Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.

Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”

“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.

Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.

There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.

Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.

“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.

The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.

After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.

He never got any further.

Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.

Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.

“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.

“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”

Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.

Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”

Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.

The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.

Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.

Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”

Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”

“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”

“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”

Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”

Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.

By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.

They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.

The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)

As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)

Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.

After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.

Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.

Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”

Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”

Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.

“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”

“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”

“Yes.”

“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”

“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.

Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”

“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”

Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”

Oh.

Dean blinked in surprise.

Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”

“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”

Cas squinted.

“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”

That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.

Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.

“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”

“I don’t need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”

Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”

“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”

Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”

They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”

Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.

Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.

Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”

---- Read the rest on AO3 ----

[mingiswow]

417 Hz | Kim Hongjoong

⇒ MINORS DNI ⇐

Pairing: Hongjoong x afab!gender neutral!reader

Words: + 7,7k

Genre: Dystopian/cyberpunk, smut, angst, a lil fluff

Content warning: Mentions of kidnapping, mentions of death, mentions of weapons, fighting against the system, probably wrong tech jargon (sorry, I tried, my best, I'm a designer), mentions of mind controlling, smut

Smut warning: reader is virgin and Hongjoong is a sweetie about it, reader has a vagina and boobs, oral (reader), fingering (reader), piv, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, praising, sweet dirty talk, after care, just Hongjoong being wholesome and a simp

417 Hz is the Solfeggio frequency for the sacral chakra, also known as the sexual chakra. This frequency is known for being good for creativity increase as well as increasing sexual energy and pleasure for those who use it.

a/n: hey everyone! Another part of the dystopian series. I hope you are enjoying so far, It's been really fun researching and writing these. Hope you enjoy this one because tbh it was particularly my favorite so far. Love yall <3

You were taught to hate them, to hate the rebels, the Guerillas, how they call themselves. You never saw them, don’t know how they look, just heard about them and their actions. Every person in the small citadel that survived the test of time has a different description of them. Some say they are these big, enormous, scary-looking men, the size of mountains. Some others say that they have disfigured faces due to fight scars and accidents with their own weapons. Others say that they are infiltrated by the survivors.

The truth is you’ll never know who they are because it’s been years since they started going clearly, physically and psychologically against the government.

The world you live in is not the best, not at all, everything was destroyed decades ago when a nuclear accident happened. Nobody knew at the time that thousands, millions, of tiny nuclear bombs were buried under our feet, the governments of all the countries back then did without notice, ready to explode when something happened. The initial plan was to kill the poorest, to “purify” the earth, but it all went wrong when somehow all the warheads were activated at once, destroying basically everything around, killing more than half of the world population, rich, poor, it didn’t matter. The ones who survived had to reimagine and reinvent themselves, surviving from what was left. Over the years many more people died from radiation, hunger, and diseases. It was natural selection theory all over again.

Within time, the government, now the only one to rule all, found a way to control the population, an ancient technique with the use of frequencies and brainwashing. Chips were implanted in every kid that was born, being brainwashed with the government's ideas since day one, the frequency and subliminals, that once were used to help people, were now being used to control the population.

You were on the line to check-in on your boring work as a programmer when suddenly you heard a loud beep coming from your communicator, making you kneel in pain, then all went silent. No frequency. No subliminal. Pure silence. You felt dizzy, head spinning not being used to the silence, eyes slowly blurring until all went black.

“Are you sure they are the right one? They seem a little too young” you started to slowly wake up, listening to mumbles and whispers near you, but still too weak to move or open your eyes. People were talking?

“They are our age, Mingi” another one spoke with a chuckle. You don’t even remember the last time you heard people talk to each other.

You tried to move your body but everything hurt and you squealed in pain. Soon the sound came out of your mouth, you felt hands touching you and helping you to sit wherever you were.

“Don’t force yourself too much, yn. You have never been out of their control, it’s not easy to get used to the silence” you simply nod, the comforting velvety voice of the person making you feel somehow safe. “Can you speak?” the person asked and you tried to say something but nothing but grunts came out. 

The last time you remember speaking to someone was to your older brother years ago before he died in an accident at work. People usually don’t talk to each other outside of family and with the quick advance of the chips’ technology, people talked to each other through their minds. It wasn’t good since everyone had access to your thoughts, but that was another way of control. If you thought anything bad about the government, you were done. Executed.

“Don’t force yourself, I know it’s hard” you felt a hand caressing your hair and a shiver ran down your body, suddenly feeling safe, cared. You wanted to cry but even that you couldn’t do. “Hey hey, it’s okay. I know it’s hard, being deprived of emotions, from thoughts, it’s not easy” you simply nodded. “I’ll bring you water and some food, if you need help eating because of the poor sight let me know” you nodded again and you heard steps going away and a door sliding open and then closing.

You took deep breaths, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, trying to calm down your nerves. You opened your mouth and tried to leave a few sounds and escalating to a few monosyllabic words like yes and no. Slowly you tried to move your fingers, the hands being the easiest. Then you moved on to your eyes, trying to open them, they felt heavy, not even your weak just moving hands were able to open. After what felt like hours of trying to recover yourself to your normal state you gave up, more because of tiredness than other things. You stood there, silent in the empty room, sat up in what you imagined was a bed, thinking about how deprived you were of so many sensations due to the brainwashing sound. When people told you silence was a scary sound you never understood them. But there you were, completely paralyzed by the sudden silence.

“If you try to listen to the environment sounds it will help you” a different voice came in, but no door sound was heard, so this man was probably there all along. “I know how scary it is, I was in your place once” you nodded and heard steps coming closer to you and a calloused hand touch your face. “I hope you can open your eyes soon”. You nodded, not sure why these men were being so nice to you after literally kidnapping you. What did they want from you? What did they mean by the one?

You took a deep breath again and tried to focus on any sounds you could listen to. The first one you noticed was yours and the man’s breathing, also the sound of the skin of his hand caressing your skin. You focused more, trying to catch any distant sound. You listened to some sort of buzzing coming from your left side, very very far away from you. Then you could pick some conversations, not enough to understand, but enough to make you feel at ease, there were sounds around you again. You heard laughs far away and you don’t even remember when was the last time you heard those, people so miserable that happiness wasn’t an option. You kept focusing on these sounds, making them your own frequency. 

You tried to slowly open your eyes again, and you managed to do it. Very slowly but you did it. Your cones getting used to the very dim light, and you smiled thinking that they might have left the light so low for you to get used again. The blackness in your eyes started to slowly turn into blurriness. You heard the door slide open again but no one spoke, just steps and the same hand that kept caressing your cheek, hair and arm. You don’t know how long it took but your eyes finally opened fully, focusing on the first thing in front of you, a very cute-looking man with red hair. 

“Can you see me?” he asked and you nodded.

“Can you turn your head?” it was the sweet man caressing you, you turned your head to the right and you thought that you were dead. In heaven. “Hey, little one” there he stood, the smile you loved planted on his lips, his figure taller and stronger than before, but it was him. It was you brother. It was really Seonghwa. Immediately your eyes watered and you managed to cry. throwing your weak arms around him and hugging him. He was alive. After all these years he was alive. You didn’t know if you were happy that he was there or mad that he lied. “It’s ok, you can cry as much as you want, yn. I’m here now, we are all here” you kept yourself hung on his neck for some time, scared that it was all a dream and he would escape again. “I have so much to tell you, I can’t wait for you to speak again” you nodded, still crying on his neck.

“Sorry to interrupt but your food is here, yn” the man with the velvety voice spoke and you were able to finally see him. His face matched his voice, he looked soft, yet fierce, appealing. His shiny black hair was down, almost covering his eyes. His lips, even smiling, were plump. You heard your brother chuckle at you, probably because you were staring too long at the man. You bowed your head in a way to thank him and he put the tray on your lap, careful not to spill the liquid, you imagined to be soup, from the bowl. “Sorry about kidnapping you, but it was the only way” you shook your head denying, smiling at him and drinking the soup. The warm liquid soothed your dry throat and the taste was something you never tasted, inexplicably delicious. “I’m Hongjoong, these are Wooyoung, San and Mingi” he pointed to the cute red-haired one, another one with black hair and a giant one that happily waved at you.

“I know you might have a lot of questions right now, but we brought you here because we need your help” your bother said and stood by Hoongjoong's side. “We are the guerillas, my little one” your eyes widened and you thanked you didn’t have soup in your mouth, otherwise you would have spit on them. “I know. I know. I have a lot to explain” you looked at him like you wanted to say ‘yes, you sure do mister’ and he just smiled at you. “But why don’t you rest for the day and we talk tomorrow, huh? I might have been dead but you’re still my little sibling and I know you. Plus, the first few days after the loss of the frequency are terrible, I experienced myself first hand” he pinched your cheeks and you nodded, finishing drinking the delicious soup.

After you finished eating, the guys left your room, Seonghwa left some books by your side, kissed your temple and left you all alone. You were so dizzy you felt nauseous, not only from the lack of the frequency but also because of all that was happening. Your brother was alive and was part of the Guerillas. He and his friends kidnapped you and took you out of your state of trance. They needed your help with something that you had no idea what it was. And on top of all that, they were really cute. You imagined them in many ways, but never to be cute, soft, kind - and honestly sexy - guys around your age. You looked out the window that was to your left and saw some vehicles moving and noticed that they were the buzzing you listened before. You closed your eyes, enjoying the newly discovered sound, and fell asleep, too tired to even read or do anything really.

Over the course of the weeks you were there, these men, Jongho and Yeosang, helped you with going back to your normal state of body movements, as well as going back to speaking again. You learned that the Guerillas were all over the continent, finding ways to overthrow the government, as well as learning how to revive the land and live out of it. You were at one of their many headquarters, the one where they kept their technological research, the facility hidden by a magnetic field that tricked the eyes into thinking it was all empty. You were shocked by their technology and the number of people working there. 

Seonghwa told you that he indeed suffered a work accident, but the company left him to die alone in the field and Hongjoong and the boys rescued him. He was alive only because of the Guerillas and he was in deep debt to them. Well, he felt as if he was, but the Guerillas were one big family, a community. Everyone knew each other, everyone helped each other, and people of all ages were living in their facilities, working in different areas, planting, and raising animals. The Guerillas created an invisible continent within the continent. 

They got you because they were planning their biggest attack so far, they were planning on invading the chips’ frequency, but all at the same time. And since you were a programmer at the company that built the chips, you were extremely valuable to them. And so were to the company.

“They are searching for you all over the country” your brother said as you sat in front of their computers, analyzing the data they had so far. “But don’t worry, you are safe with us here. Besides Hongjoong wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you” he messed with your hair, joking about the way the man treated you. 

He wasn’t lying, Hongjoong wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, whenever he had the chance he’d be by your side, seeing your progress, or showing you around and introducing you to people. Sometimes he even tried to show off his battle skills out of nowhere, which you found cute and endearing. You grew very fond of your brother’s friends, specially Wooyoung. He became kind of your best friend. He caught you writing about Hongjoong in your diary once and he never let that go, but it was a nice starting point for your friendship.

“Can I go with you guys?” you asked once you saw your brother, Hongjoong and Yunho loading their truck. They were going to the other side of the country to look after the community responsible for the animals to see why some of the cows weren’t producing milk.

“yn, it’s dangerous, we are going to cross the country” your brother said, throwing another bag with guns inside the vehicle. “I’d kill myself if anything happened to you”.

“Joongie~” you grabbed the smaller one’s arm, trying to convince the man with the only trick you knew would work on him: your cuteness. “Please, I promise I’ll behave” you even tried to do puppy eyes at him, making your brother roll his own. 

“I’m sorry, yn, but your brother is right. You are not prepared enough to go out yet, you barely can use a gun” you pouted and left his arm. You understood them, they were right, but you couldn’t help but be sad. “Let’s do this” Hongjoong held your face and the heat crept to your cheeks. You loved when he touched you. “I’ll bring you a gift when we come back, okay?” you nodded, smiling happily. “Behave and you’ll get the gift” you rolled your eyes at him, like you weren’t going to behave anyway. He smiled at you and caressed your hair.

Wooyoung came by your side, turning himself so his back was facing you, and crossed his arms, pretending as if he was making out with someone. You hit his arms and heard him laugh at you. Little demon. 

The three men finished loading the vehicle and verified with the rest of the crew if everything was ready to go. Yunho turned the field around the truck and you saw the giant metal box disappear right in front of your eyes. It didn't matter how many times you saw it, the technology still amazed you. Seonghwa gave you one last hug and told you to keep studying the chips while they were gone. You nodded and wished him a safe trip. 

Hongjoong came to say goodbye to you as well, hugging you tight. “I have a gift for you too when you come back” you whispered in his ear and felt his hand tighten around your waist. You smirked to yourself and let go of the man. His hoping eyes smiled along with his lips to you before turning around and entering the truck.

“Is this gift of yours your body?” Wooyoung teased you quietly so no one could hear.

“What if it is?”

“God, you’re such a perv” he followed you as you left for your lab.

“You’re the one who came up with this idea” you chuckled at his murmurs behind you.

You smiled to yourself thinking about what gift he was going to bring you. It was going to be some long ten days without him. 

The days at the lab without Hongjoong or Seonghwa to help you, or to be honest, to bother you, felt infinite. Wooyoung was busy with his research, you basically only saw him during lunch or training. But you were decided to find the breaking point on the chips. For Hongjoong. And Seonghwa. And everyone else really. 

You spent the whole ten days inside the lab, working on the codes, working on the hardware and how they were implanted in the brain. The first guerillas discovered how to hack individual chips, but they needed to invade the whole system. And none of them found the break into the system. Somehow they had access to old programming books, old codes and hardware from when the world was different. 

It was during your lunch break that the eureka moment came, leaving your food - and a confused Wooyoung - behind to go straight to the library. You searched over the walls for one specific book, one so old that some of the pages had signs of the trial to destroy. It was in one of those pages that the solution was. You took the book to Mingi, who was a mathematician, and asked him to help you with the probabilities and which numbers and letters on the code it could be. 

Mingi and you spent three whole days on the research, trying and failing as the code wasn’t right. But the moment came and with just a switch of a coma you were able to find the way into the control center. You couldn’t hold your excitement, hugging Mingi and giving excited little jumps around the room. 

“Ok, next steps, boss?” He asked as he saved in different places the code, too afraid to lose the work. 

“We need to find some people willing to let us turn on their chips again and test on them” you stretched your limbs, the pain of spending days working without pause starting to kick in. “But the boys are coming back tomorrow so, let’s wait for them first. What do you think?”

“I more than agree, I need some rest and I know that Hongjoong will know what to do” you nodded. “Besides, he may want to try with his own frequency”. 

“He has his own frequency?” You asked and the tall man nodded. 

“He did his own research before you arrived and mixed a frequency that is somehow neutral but not too overwhelming as the silence as you could see for yourself” you chuckled remembering the sensation and nodded. “So his idea is to slowly start merging the frequencies and then leave only his own”

“But how are we gonna do this? Because we now have the access, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t know how long it takes for them to notice or even if they won’t notice right away” he nodded and started to push you out of the lab. 

“That’s why we’re gonna wait for them” he closed the door behind you and you pouted. “You and I both need to rest. Clear our minds, we are almost burnt out” he was right, you were working nonstop since the boys left and the last three days you and Mingi barely slept, you truly needed some rest. “And I know captain won’t be happy to see you tired and overworked, so go to your room, take a bath, maybe some scented bubbles, or whatever, just make sure you are hot, sexy, smelling good and well rested for him” he slapped your ass and giggled. 

“Mingi!” You scolded him. 

“Oh come on, yn… even your brother knows you two are pinning each other since day one” you felt your cheeks heat up on his comments, so you two weren’t as subtle as you thought then. “Just do as I say, besides, he’ll be happy enough knowing we cracked the code” you nodded and hugged him before running to your room to take a shower. Or maybe a bath like he said. You deserved.

You prepared the bath with some of the plants that were given as tea, the lavender smell being the strongest one. You laid in the bath, welcoming the warmth around your body and relaxing your muscles. Your mind wandered over the next steps of the research but soon was flooded by him. His face, his eyes, his smile, his voice, his body, all of him. The way he treated you, touched you, fingertips lingering more than usual whenever he had the chance. You felt all bubbly inside, just like a teenager in love for the first time. Which wasn’t entirely a lie. You never felt interested in anyone before, maybe the brainwashing hitting you too hard to actually think anything about it. So this new experience, the freedom of both your mind and body, the happiness of having your brother back and meeting nice people made you more easygoing and open to experiences. 

You looked over at your skin and realized that it started to look like raisins, so it was more than time to leave the bath. You dried yourself and put on your pajamas, ready to sleep until tomorrow. It was going to be hard with all the anxiety in your chest, but it was needed. You laid on the comfy bed, hugged the biggest pillow and smiled imagining how it would be to sleep cuddled up to Hongjoong, and with that thought, you drifted asleep. 

The sound of your door being slid open woke you up. What time was it? You slowly opened your eyes and found an overly excited Wooyoung. You just laughed at him and went to put on your clothes so you could have breakfast together and wait for the boys.

It was actually almost evening when they arrived, tired, and full of boxes with supplies, but nonetheless happy smiles on their faces. You ran to your brother, hugging him, happy that he was alive and safe. Yunho was the next to get your hug, taking you off the ground.

“You better brace yourself, tiny, Hongjoong even dreamt with you this trip” he whispered in your ear while hugging you. “He couldn’t shut up about you the whole trip, Seonghwa even said that if he didn’t shut up he was going to forbid you to even see him” you giggled at the newfound information.

“Oh, don’t worry, Yun, I’m more than ready” you told him, offering him a smirk and a wink, to which he responded with a chuckle and a nod of his head.

You stopped in front of Hongjoong, hands behind your back, waiting for him to notice your presence - as if he hadn’t noticed the first thing when he left the truck. He smiled at you, one of the many bags on his shoulder, and messed with your hair. 

“Missed me much?” he asked as he started to walk inside the building, probably to his office, you following behind him.

“Not really” you said, taking large steps to walk in front of him, turning yourself around to face him while still walking backward, grin plastered on your lips. “You know, it was easier to work without here to distract me”.

“So I distract you with my beauty?” you both entered his office, he threw his bag on top of the main chair and started to search for something inside.

“I never said that” you giggled and walked closer to him, seeing him holding a small box. “Is that my gift?” 

“It actually is indeed” he turned around and handed you the box. “I hope you like it”.

You grabbed the box noticing how pretty it was. The brown leather was scratched in many parts of it, the entails that once were golden now only held traces of the paint long gone. The close was rusty but still worked well enough for you to open the box and see a book inside. There’s no cover anymore, but you can read the name on the first page. The Giver.

“This is the book that inspired the government to implement the chips” he said seeing you reading the title. “I’ve read many years ago and it was what fueled my desire to end this dictatorship and made me join the guerillas” you nodded, smiling at him. “I thought you might enjoy it”

“Thank you so much, Joong, I loved” you kissed his cheek. “I have a gift for you too” he looked at you curiously. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your lab, passing through curious eyes that have been waiting for you two to finally get together. You pushed him inside the room and guided him to the front of the main computer and pointed at the screen. He looked at you confused, he did not know a thing about coding, so it was just a bunch of letters and signs he did not understand. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Mingi and I cracked the code” he widened his eyes still not believing your words. “We spent the past three days working on it and we finally found the way in, we just need to know what our next steps are now, he told me about y-” Hongjoong cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you out of pure ecstasy with the news.

You were caught off guard but nonetheless, you kissed him back, holding onto his arms that were holding your face. The man separated your lips and looked into your eyes, about to apologize for his manners, but you just attacked his lips again, kissing him with more need, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer to you. 

Hongjoong reacted immediately, arms circling your body and pushing you flush against his chest. Your lips danced together, synchronized like they were used to the choreography. Tastes intoxicating each other, filling up your senses and making you high on each other. It was just a kiss, but the weeks of flirting and pinning on each other finally melted within your tongues that were soon enough added to the dance. Two of the most experienced dancers paired up. 

Your bodies moved like they knew where they were going, skillfully reaching the sofa. Hongjoong never broke the kiss, his lungs hurting without air but he was afraid of letting go of your lips and you would disappear. He gently laid your body on top of the soft cushions, supporting his weight in one hand while the other squeezed the sides of your tummy. His lips finally left yours but they met his new victim: your neck. He left open-mouth kisses on the skin, the taste and smell of the lavender bath from the night before still adorning your skin. He could taste the sweetness of it on his lips. 

Everything felt new, felt too much for you. You were in heaven. You died and heaven is this man’s body on top of you. You whined lowly at the feeling of his kisses on your skin, oversensitive from being touched like this. 

“Joong…” you whispered, hands tight in a fist holding his shirt. “I…” you moaned a little with the sudden bite he gave on the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping what he was doing and looking in your eyes. His plump lips looked even fuller, red, with the action, his forehead starting to show signs of sweat on it, his arm holding his weight on your side having its veins on full display for you to appreciate or even touch. No, you didn’t want him to stop but what if you disappointed him? You denied with your head, one of your hands caressing his side. 

“It’s just… I never did this and I don’t want to… you know, be silly” he chuckled at your innocence, biting the tip of your nose before planting a peck on your lips. 

“You’ll never be silly, it’s completely fine to never have had sex, it's a natural part of life” you nodded and he left his position to sit on the sofa, taking you to sit on his lap. “I’ll never do anything that you don’t allow me to. If you want to stop, I feel comfortable with just kissing you” he pecked your lips again. 

“I wanna try it” you said, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. “I want to have sex with you” he smiled and kissed you once more. 

He grabbed your body bridal style and carried you to your room, which you were so glad to be two doors next to your lab otherwise, you’d die in embarrassment if someone saw you like that. He let go of your body to close the door and lock it, turning back to you and attacking your lips once again. This time the kiss was kinda messy, hungry, teeth clashing but you couldn’t care less, all you thought about it in that moment was that you needed him. 

Soon you two found your way to your bed and Hongjoong made you sit on the edge of the bed and lay back. He kept kissing you but his hands were riskier, roaming over your clothed chest, fingertips softly touching your nipples under the fabric, the muscle getting rigid with the touch. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” He gently asked, biting your ear shell. You nodded, chest rising with excitement.

He took your shirt off and he felt that you were the heaven. He tried to contain himself not to scare you with how hungry - and hard - he was for you. The man started to kiss your neck, going down to your collarbone and slowly going down to your chest, paying attention to all your reactions. You couldn’t hold a low moan when he put a nipple in his mouth and sucked the flesh. It was a whole new sensation, your body was feeling like it was on fire, overwhelmed by the feeling. Your hands flew instantly to his hair, holding his locks and pushing him flusher to your chest. He smiled at your reaction and decided to give the other one the same attention but substituted his mouth with his hand. 

Moans started to slip past your mouth. Having someone else touching your body was completely different than touching yourself, you’d never reach a third of the feeling. He kept playing with both of your buds for a while, your chest shining with his saliva. You started to grow impatient, hands pushing his head lower, the feeling in the pit of your stomach getting stronger each second passed. He chuckled at your eagerness which in any other circumstances he would tease you but that moment was all about you. About how you felt. So he followed your silent command and lowered his ministrations to your tummy and stopped with his fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants. 

“Can I?” He asked once again, always making sure you were consenting to everything. You nodded, a small whispered yes passing through your lips, almost inaudible. 

Hongjoong couldn’t deny the heat that was pooling in his own belly with the way you were completely given to him. Trusting your body to him. Allowing him to do all the dirty things he imagined to do with you in his most disgusting dreams. Your innocence was somehow endearing to him and he had to hold himself with all his will not to push you flush against the bed and pound into you like he wanted, how he desired. He needed to be respectful and careful not to hurt or scare you. Because it was what you deserved. 

He pulled your pants and underwear down, and he could die happily then and there. Your form all naked in front of him. All to him. Your core glistening with arousal waiting for him to feast out of you. Like everything he was doing, he slowly kissed your legs up, taking a little more time in your tights, squeezing the flesh and leaving little bites on the inner side. Huffs of annoyance and impatience leaving your lips without you even noticing. 

“Relax, little one, I’m taking care of you, don’t worry” he said while smoothing your skin, a little smirk on his lips. “I’m going to eat you out now, ok? And I want you to give at least one orgasm while I’m doing it” you nodded, eyes hooded with neediness. He had literally done nothing to you yet. Yet. You wondered what your state would be at the end of this. 

He finally touched your pussy, spreading the lips and spreading your arousal with it. You moaned with how his fingers would hit your clit every time they slid up, legs threatening to close on his head, but his open arms were holding them open. He then finally did what both of you wanted and licked you from bottom to top and sucked on your clit. 

“Hongjoong!” You moaned his name, the word coming stranded from your chest. 

He tried, he really did, to keep his ministrations on you slow but you just tasted so good on his tongue that he couldn’t help. He was eating you like a starved man, his tongue would go up and down a few times before giving its attention to your clit, sucking, licking, flickering. You were a whimpering mess, hands all over the place, the sensation being so new. So good. 

“Good gracious, sweetie, I could be here all day” he said, voice muffled by your pussy, nose hitting deliciously your clit every time he’d enter his tongue inside. “How are you feeling, babe?” He asked, genuinely curious but also to see you blabber between moans. 

“Good, so good, Joong” you managed to speak after a few seconds. You held his hair and pushed him more against your vulva and he noticed how your legs were trying to close more often. You were close to your release. 

He smiled to himself and decided to add his fingers to the mix, playing with your clit with his thumb while he penetrated his skillful tongue on your hole. The walls clenching around nothing. It didn’t take long until you covered your mouth with your hands, scared of being heard by anyone else, and convulsed around his face, your juices dripping down your hole and onto his mouth and chin. And that was heaven to him, you tasted almost bittersweet on his tongue, the best thing he tasted in so long. He was completely drunk by you. And he loved. 

Hongjoong waited for you to calm down after your orgasm, he didn’t want to overwhelm you or overstimulate you. At least not on your first time having sex. 

“How are we?” He asked, hands caressing your shaking legs as he lifted up from the ground. 

“Good…” you said, lifting yourself on your elbows to look at him. And if you thought he was pretty before, now, with your slick glistening on his chin and sweat dripping down his forehead, he was absolute perfection. 

“Now I’m going to prep you, ok? Get you a bit stretched so I don’t hurt you” you nodded, lower lip between your teeth. “Do you want me to stop?” You denied with your head. “There’s something you wanna tell me?” You nodded, cheeks getting even hotter than they already were from the previous actions. He signaled with his head for you to talk. 

“You’re still… fully clothed” he chuckled at your statement but nonetheless he started to undress, taking his shirt off. “Joong” you called him, making him stop in his tracks. “Can I… take it?” He smiled and nodded, waiting for you to do it. 

Your legs were still shaky so decided to stay on the bed. You reached for the button of his pants and opened it before pulling the zipper down. He smiled at you lovingly, caressing your head before pulling your face up and kissing your lips. Once again you melted under his touch, whimpering into the kiss. He broke the kiss and went back to his standing position and you went back to taking his pants off, pulling it down his legs. Your hands caressed the bulge under the fabric of his underwear, a low groan leaving his mouth and you felt his hand grip your hair tighter. You finally pulled the underwear down, revealing his cock. The tip angry red and already leaking pre cum from being denied attention for so long. Your hand went to hold his shaft in it without even thinking, you were just a little bit awestruck by seeing a dick in front of you for the first time. He wasn’t big or thick, just the right size. But you still thought he’d split you once he tried to enter you. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie, I’m going to prep you, okay?” He caressed your cheek and you nodded. “You can play with another time, today is all about your pleasure” your cheeks once again heated up, he was being so thoughtful, so caring, and made your chest swell with a feeling you couldn’t quite describe, but you were liking it. 

He gave you another kiss before making you lay down on the bed again, this time in the middle. He started to play with his fingers on your pussy again, collecting the wetness that was still there, and he wondered if it was from your thoughts about his dick. Hongjoong slowly entered your hole with his middle finger, pumping slowly to get you used to the intrusion. 

You had masturbated before, you were a grown adult, and you had your needs, you just didn’t feel interested in others before. But having someone else fingering you was a whole new experience. You were helpless, not knowing what he was going to do, with what pace, with what intensity. All you could do was moan and writhe under him. 

“More. Please, Joongie, more” you grabbed his arm that was supporting his weight. “I…”

“Such an eager baby, aren’t we? I barely put a finger inside and you’re asking for more?” You whispered yes and nodded, the knot in your belly tightening up. 

He inserted another finger inside, curling them up to hit that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your head. He started to alternate between curling them up and scissoring you open, walls hugging his fingers, back arching from the mattress. 

“Fuck you’re so tight, yn” he moaned with you, his dick twitching with the thought of entering you. “I’m gonna add another one, okay?” You nodded and pleaded, unintelligible words leaving your lips as your hips started to lift from the mattress. 

His free hand went to your clit, circling the bud to give you extra pleasure before adding his third finger, slowing down the pace of his fingers and trying to put them all the way in. You were past the point of no return, fucked out from just his previous actions and now from his fingers skillfully fucking you open. 

“Joongie~” you moaned, voice starting to crack. 

“Go on, baby, I can feel your walls flutter on my fingers. Go on, give it to me” with his words you came on his fingers, pleas of his name leaving your mouth as he rode your orgasm with you, legs shaking like you spent the last minutes squatting in the gym. “So pretty when you cum, baby. So good for me” he licked his fingers clean and gave you a kiss so you could taste yourself a little in his mouth. You couldn’t help but be even more turned on by that. “You think you can keep going? We can stop if you want” you denied with your head and pulled him for another heated kiss. 

“Please, Joong, now that you started, please finish it” he smirked at your neediness and hovered his body on top of you. 

“As you wish, sweet thing” he passed his dick between your wet vulva, coating himself in your slick, before lining his head with your hole. “Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop” you nodded and he slowly pushed past his head and you thanked him for prepping you first, otherwise it would hurt you. “You good?”

“Yes, keep going” 

“Can you take it all?” You nodded, caressing and holding his arms on your sides. 

He decided to take one of his thumbs to your clit to help you relax and feel more pleasure, so he started to slowly push his cock inside of you as he played with your clit. You opened your mouth but no sound came off, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your back arching from the bed. It felt so good. The sting of pain was delicious, the sensation of being so full for the first time, the view of having the hottest man alive on top of you watching every reaction of you and your body to him. You could explode again just by that. 

He finally groaned when he was balls deep inside you, the tightness of your walls hugging him viciously. He just wanted to be permanently buried inside of you. He waited for a little for you to get used to the feeling, never stopping his work on your clit. 

“Move, please” you moved your hips and the sensation was indescribable. 

“Oh dear god, you’re so good for me, baby, I can’t wait to ruin you just for me” he said, words coming out of his mouth without him even realizing. You moaned at the thought, walls clenching. “Oh. Would you look at that” he nuzzled his nose on the crook of your neck, leaving a bite behind. “Do you like the idea of being ruined, baby?” You nodded, not thinking straight at this point. You pressed your nails on his back, bringing him closer to you. ”fuck, yn. I can’t wait to teach you everything to be perfect for me, I’m going to ruin your chances with any other man” he didn’t realize it, but his thrusts were getting faster. And you were loving it. 

You moaned his name over and over again, back sliding back and forth on the mattress with how hard he was fucking you. His thrusts were deep, not too fast, but hard enough to make you see stars. Now you knew what all the fuss about sex was. It was divine, delicious, mind-erasing almost. You didn’t have one thought besides the way Hongjoong was fucking you into oblivion, eyes getting blurry with the pleasure. 

Without warning, the knot in your lower stomach snapped once again, for the third time in the night, and your orgasm washed over you, making you see black. Mouth hanging open with no sound leaving. 

“Again already? Such a good baby for me” Hongjoong kissed your temple and slowed his thrusts a little for you to not get overwhelmed. “Can you hang a little more for me, baby? Just so I can cum too” you nodded, eyes closed, completely fucked out and limp on the bed. You were his now, he had all the control he wanted. He started to thrust a little bit faster again, moaning with the feeling of his member being squeezed even more by your abused walls. He wouldn’t take much longer to cum. 

A few more thrusts and he stilled his hips, his hot white seed painting your insides, the feeling of being even fuller making you cum again on his cock, mixing your juices together. When he mentioned moving, you held him in place, the feeling of having him inside of you too good.

“You did so well, baby. I’m proud of you” he kissed your forehead and took some sweaty strands out of your face, eyes still glassy but satisfied. “I need to clean us up, you need to rest, and so do I” you pouted but nodded.

You hissed at the sudden feeling of emptiness, liquids spilling down your hole and onto the mattress. You definitely had to wash that up. But that was a thought for the next day. Hongjoong appeared with a cup of water and a wet cloth from your bathroom. He put the cup on the bedside before cleaning you. The sensitivity of the prior actions starting to show up. After cleaning you up, he made you drink water and laid by your side, pulling you to lie on his chest. 

You two stood in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence and having your thoughts organized. 

“Thank you” he said, hand caressing your arm that was on top of him. 

“For what?”

“For trusting me” you smiled and switched your position to be looking at him, elbows holding your upper body. “I like you, yn. I think you already know that but I want it to be very clear for you” you nodded. “And if you’re willing, I’d like to be with you, be your boyfriend” you giggled and kissed his lips. 

“I like you too, Joong. And I am more than happy to be your significant other” you both smiled and he kissed you again, peppering kisses all over your face and lips.

You laid back on his chest and enjoyed each other's company. Both of you were almost falling asleep when you spoke again. 

“Joong?” He hummed. “Remember when you said you wanted to ruin me for the others? Can you teach me how to pleasure you?” He looked down to you and you had the most innocent and expecting eyes. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, yn, you’re going to be the death of me” you both laughed as he held you closer, soon drifting asleep to dream about all the things you wanted to do to each other. 

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[luvism333]

the maze runner maze diversity ideas directly inspired by this @petrichor-idyllic post!!

ive literally been thinking about it nonstop since omg okay BASICALLY its confirmed in the scorch trials movie that there are a bunch of other mazes aside from the glade and group b. since these other mazes are never touched on there are one million and one ways people could go with them in fanfiction in terms of layout, weather conditions, etc. so i wanted to share some!

petri had tons of great ideas (go follow them right NEOW) and im just here to expand on them. 4 the sake of simplicity im gonna call the “gladers” subjects/mazers since we dont really know what theyd call themselves, and im gonna call the “glade” the centre. i am gonna keep calling new kids greenies bc i think its a funny little name + DISCLAIMER i have not read the books and i also do not have the time or energy to rewatch the movies so if any information is off my bad fr

NOT PROOFREAD

MONSTER IDEAS

a maze with birdbox style monsters so they have to navigate the maze blindfolded

a maze where the monsters are deathly afraid of some sort of metal that wicked wont send them enough of to make clothes or armor (at least not enough to keep every mazer safe) so all the people are heavily pierced. greenies come up piercingless and have to sit in the piercing hut (where they keep the metal) for however long it takes them to let the maze piercers do their job because absolutely no shot are they letting any dumbass teenager go anywhere with their rare life saving metal without it being fused to their bodies. the maze record for time a greenie has spent in the piercing hut is 3 full days and the less time you spend in there when you first arrive the more street cred you get

^ the piercer would probably be the maze leader, im picturing someone who at the beginning was the only person that could talk greenies into getting the piercing over n done with and as more came up the maze just filled with people that would only listen to the one person they trusted enough to pierce them straight out of the box.

a maze with underground monsters. you drop something heavy enough and something shoots out of the ground, jaws wide open. they have treestyle type houses, floating bridges connecting buildings. they dont have runner equivalents bc theyre working on building bridges through the maze and its like a no brainer that they cant go anywhere without a bridge. instead of “someone should try surviving the maze at night” its “we should climb the walls” and everyone thinks hes just as nuts

^theyd have a box but wouldnt it be fucking funny if their greenies just fell out of the sky?? they have a little platform right underneath where the greenies and supplies land (they call it ground zero) picturing wicked somehow forgetting to cushion the platform at first and patient zero falls out of the sky and dies on impact

a maze where the monsters arent giant teen eating beasts but deadly insects. one bite of that one and youll vomit up your internal organs, breathe in gas from that one and your entire body will be paralyzed. accidentally step on that one and your foot will swell to the size of a bowling ball and fucking explode. experiment with how your mazers cope with this - maybe everyone wears layers and layers of bee keeping style clothes outside and all the buildings are netted. do they have disinfecting rooms? do they have some sort of poison that takes the insects out? how to they distribute this poison since they cant just pierce it on like the metal maze?

a maze with the hunger games mutt type monster-mutations made out of fallen mazers

a maze where the monsters arent monsters or a threat at all but contain clues or keys thatll help the mazers get out and are notoriously impossible to catch

MAZE IDEAS

on the wiki page for group b it says their maze went vertical at one point - a maze that is completely vertical, their centre (creatively named The Hole) being like a tube just walled in by heaven high maze structures. you look up and at some point the walls give way to an abyss. most of the mazers have given up hope of getting out because it looks endless - or does it? nobody really entertains the idea that the top of The Wall is closer than they think, that the creators have put in a fake ceiling to fuck with them, but the people theyve sent up dont come back down and when the hole is quiet enough they can hear something alive up there and nobody can say for sure that their little village is any worse than what theyll find if they try to leave

hunger games quarter quell type maze where different sections of it have different monsters or obstacles. the sections with the easiest to bypass obstacles have the most complicated puzzle, the sections that are the easiest to navigate have obstacles 10x as deadly

PEOPLE IDEAS

a maze where 2 people come up in the box at a time (inspired by this thomas fic). theyd have names like box-mate or smth for whoever you come up in the box with (i.e thats jeff, he’s clints box-mate) and everyone is really close with their box-mate, platonically or otherwise. i feel like theres alot of cute potential for this idea, like an alby-equivalent talking to aggressive mazers like why dont you go find your box-mate and chill out. go cuddle or something. greenies often feeling weird about their connection w their box-mate (bc who wouldnt??) and long time mazers teasing them about it “oooooh somebodys making eyes at their booox-maaate muah muah muah”

unisex maze (although all these ideas can be unisex) where the number of boys and girls is slightly or very uneven at any given time. people have bets going around that time of the month every month about whether theyre getting a boy or a girl w things like chores and food being traded like currency. the bonfires on greenie day are just celebrations for the winning party

got this idea from petri but someone alone in a maze!!! just completely isolated for however long, not being expected to survive but making it out somehow. have you guys ever read an article or paper on the long term psychological effects of solitary confinement in prisons? of course itd be different but isolation is literally used as a torture method in some places. humans are not supposed to be so alone!! a lone mazer that sleeps by the thinnest part of the walls at night so they can hear the monsters, have some sort of connection to another living thing. a lone mazer that only survives their maze because they know their monsters like the back of their hand after spending endless nights well hidden in the maze just OBSERVING the creatures because it becomes a comfort to them, seeing something outside of themself move by its own free will. a lone mazer that never stops talking once theyre out of the maze because long silence makes them feel like theyre all alone again, a lone mazer that doesnt talk at all once theyre out of the maze because they cant stand the sound of their own voice anymore.

^ petri had the idea of an animal companion and i think that is a wonderful idea!! they have this fic where the reader had a dog and theyre really cute together. go full on disney princess & give your character a bird or a chameleon or a tiger if youre a jasmine guy. a dog or any predatory animal can conceivably help your character escape the maze - give your character a sloth or a koala or just a really lazy cat. give me a lone mazer whos animal companion is dead weight but they dont have the heart to leave them, who keeps their fat cat strapped to their chest like a baby as they fight for their life. 

person alone in a maze with a baby. ik this sounds so random but wicked wanting to see the effects of growing up in the maze so they send in a carer, someone that looks after the mazers before theyre sent in. the carer raises the kid angry at whoever has trapped their now adopted child in this torture chamber come to find out they used to be one of them

maze where the subjects are supposed to get injured in some way to force them to rely on one another. a subject being deafened by a banshee type monster, a subject getting a limb amputated by medjack equivalents after getting suddenly and suspisciously sick. they dont spend so much time mapping the maze as figuring out how to get all of them through to the very end because they quite literally cannot make it without every single mazer

a maze where the subjects keep their memories but theyve all been altered. some remember wicked as saviours providing shelter for them as orphaned children, others remember being restrained, poked and prodded, a vague feeling of grief and betrayal that they cant explain. others dont remember wicked at all and insist that the maze is a paradise compared to desert wastelands filled with zombie people and viral disease.

your mazers can react to this in any way shape or form. maybe factions/cliques of people with similar memories form. nobody wants a leader from a different group in charge of the entire maze so they dont have one, there not being any rules that apply to every group in the maze because nobody will listen to eachother. everyone thinks the ones that dont remember wicked are crazy and the anti-wicked group have the most reason to become violent, have been the most violent in the past so everyone thinks theyre psychos. it takes them longer than other groups to get out despite having memory because they all take over different parts of the maze and refuse to share information.

mazers that have access to technology. they can make things like recordings and audios but no way of connecting to the outside world and no information aside from what they put in themselves. they learn to program things and make robots/drones to navigate the maze for them, make intro videos for greenies so they dont have to deal with them. instead of track hoes and medjacks they have groups of people that work on different kinds of technology because theyve learnt to automate most of the stuff the gladers do by hand. some work on exploring the maze, some make weapons, some study the monster corpses theyve managed to get, etc etc.

CULTURE/TRADITION IDEAS

the different ways people commemorate dead mazers!! in the glade they cross out their names on the maze walls and in group Bs maze they like sculpt their faces into the ice. give me a maze that tattoos the names of their fallen, whos oldest mazers have the most ink so it kind of goes without saying that the more tattoos you have the more authority you have. greenies being able to tell clearly whos been around longer based on which names they have tattooed. give me a maze that mounts the weapons of the dead on a wall, a maze with a regular graveyard that the mazers visit on slow days

greenie events!!! give me greenie celebrations like the bonfire we see in the glade, parties or games, feasts to welcome newcomers. give me a maze where the arrival of a greenie is grim, one more mouth to feed, one more lost soul trapped. a maze where everything dims down around that time of the month because another person means another month theyve failed to get out. give me mazes that test their greenies to see if theyre of any use to the group because those that arent are dead weight. a maze that holds Greenie Trials, where you have to complete an obstacle course or survive a night in the maze or complete some obscure challenge and if you cant youre tossed to the monsters.

^bonus points for a gally-equivalent getting to say ominous shit like The Last One Didn’t Make It

TATTOO SUBGENRE

because i dont know what else to do with these

maze where wicked programmed the monsters to respond to some basic specific kind of symbol and the people have it tattooed in very visible places, painted on every hut and wall

maze where the monsters are deathly allergic to some sort of liquid so the subjects tattoo themselves with it

maze where you have to be incredibly light on your feet when navigating the maze so people tattoo maps on themselves.

GROUP B

i know im supposed to be talking about maze ideas not mentioned in canon but group b has so much potential their wiki says that group b doesnt have runners, they literally all just go out into the maze in a giant group, AND that their monsters are out day and night PLUS their maze is a frozen wasteland. i imagine any girls that arent strong enough to withstand everything are like pretty quickly weeded out and only the hardasses that adapted quickly enough were left omg the cultural norms that would form?? theyre all absolutely jacked and if a greenie dies nobody bats an eye cause tough shit. no introduction no transition period you come into the maze with us and dodge airborne monsters or you stay here and freeze to death. the creators do send them medical supplies but over time they start to notice the way the group interacts w eachother so they start sending less to see if they can push it even farther, make the girls have to ration their medical supplies. it works tenfold oh you broke your arm and you want a sling, aris?? rachel got her arm CHEWED OFF by a FLYING MUTANT PTERADACTDOL and didnt ask me for so much as a BANDAID

this is like evidenced on the wiki too multiple girls suggesting they just leave aris to freeze to death or get eaten by monsters in the maze because theyre SUSPISCIOUS of him?? like absolutely unprovoked too thomas had a stung glader accusing him of being at fault for the maze an unconscious girl who came at the wrong time who is apparently going to be the last greenie they ever recieve feverishly gasping his name just so much ammo for the gladers to toss him out and it takes the death of like half the glade and an insane gally to get him where aris was upon arrival. they literally punch aris square in the face immediately after they decide not to kill him bc “its the fastest way to remember your name” like how did you guys realise that??? "fastest way” so you admit there are other ways??? why are you giving all your greenies concussions

GEN

because i dont know where to put these

explore the concept of failed mazes. a desert maze where the subjects couldnt survive on the monthly supplies because they couldnt farm any food on their own because, well, desert. a maze where wicked did something like the memory altering maze, purposefully dividing them but they went too far and the mazers killed eachother off hunger games style

test mazes! have you ever wondered why the mazes operate the way they do? why do they send people up once a month? why are the mazers of all different ages? why not make the centre already stocked with food and buildings so the subjects can spend more time cracking the maze instead of learning how to grow crops?

a maze where they sent all the people up at once and without guidance from more experienced subjects they pretty quickly killed themselves off. a maze where the subjects were too young and werent organising themselves or mapping the maze fast enough, a maze where the subjects were too old and lost hope faster and easier. a maze where the mazers had everything they needed upon arrival and nobody wanted to leave.

AND MANY MORE!!!

IN conclusion make ur own mazes people!!!!! get creative w it there are so many different directions you can take it in!! pls feel free to use any ideas thats what theyre here for i dont need credit but PLEASE tag me id love to see anything that comes from this nonsense!!! nd lmk if anybody wants a pt2 because i had a million half baked ideas that didnt make the cut i am filled to the brim with Thoughts