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can-i-write-well-yet · 2 years

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The Truth About Your Heart P2

P1/P2

Part two here we go! I had most of this written out when I put part one out, but thought it needed just a little more before posting it, so it got saved to drafts where I thought I'd work on it later, and then i had to get ready for a trip to visit my parents and my SIL's chiropractor F'd up her back and I had a frightening couple of days where i thought i might've had a malicious cyst and well...

It's later now I guess...

Anyways~ To Part TWO!!

Chapter Two.

King was face to face with Ban, and he hadn’t seen the Fox Sin of Greed this pissed since fighting the literal king of demons, even then it was never aimed anywhere near King so having it happen now was unsettling to say the least.

“Why King? Why the fuck is Captain asking for the kids to join us? He’s never asked before.” He started to pace around the room, picking up bags and various items while talking, “This has something to do with that prophecy the old man spat out doesn’t it? It already involves one of my kids, is he trying to drag one of the other two into it?”

“Ban.” King grabbed his brother-in-law's arm to turn him to look at him, “Calm down, lest you forget that you’re not the only person with a child of prophecy.” King took a breath before continuing, “And you said yourself, this might not be anything more than the Captain being bored and wanting to see us. I know you’re worried but accusing the Captain of foul play when he has no control over it won’t help anyone.”

Ban looked back at his old friend, his brother now, and closed his eyes, slumping into a chair and placing his face into his hands.

“I know,” He spoke softly, “I know it won’t, but I can’t do this King. I can’t live with this fear of my kids being sucked into a fucking apocalypse, I don’t know whether I want to be dead before we figure them all out or just know and have it be over with.”

King nodded solemnly, when Bartra invited all the sins to meet, they never expected to be given a vision of those Four Knights, who would either stop the apocalypse, or be its cause.

When Gowther used his magic to share what exactly Bartra was seeing. That was his first mistake.

King saw Meliodas fall, just for a moment, as if the shock had taken away all his strength. King would’ve fallen too if he saw his own son in that vision.

Seeing Tristan, an adult Tristan, shocked all of them to say the least, King could only imagine what was going through his Captain's mind. And either Meliodas had purposely shut King out or his mind simply went blank from fear, but King couldn’t read his heart. All he could feel was bone deep fear emanating from his once fearless Captain.

He was just glad that Elizabeth hadn’t been with them, he didn't think he would’ve been able to stand hearing her heart, which had always been a painfully open book.

Tristan was the Third of the children of the Seven Deadly Sins, with King's own son being born right after his and Diane’s wedding, and King's nephew (Lancelot, the poor lost boy, his first nephew, who he was afraid might’ve been his last) beating Tristan by just one month.

King was close with all of the children, he never expected to have such a natural talent for child rearing but he was glad he did, whenever the girls would need a day off and the boys would take the kids, Mel and Ban would always be rushing to King for advice, which was new.

‘How do I heat the milk up? How hot does it need to be? What if I burn him!?’

“Just warm it up a little, it doesn’t need to be hot, it just needs to not be cold.”

‘I’ve tried bouncing him and feeding him and changing him but he’s still crying! Does he hate me!? What do I do!?’

“He doesn’t hate you Ban, he just needs his chewie, he’s teething and his teeth probably hurt a little.”

‘King, what's a Binkie? Eli left me a note saying Tristan needed it for sleep but I don’t know what it is!’

“Probably a blanket, didn’t he used to drag around that old purple one Lady Veronica made for him everywhere? It’s most likely that one.”

‘King I will pay you whatever you want if you’ll give them pillow rides.. Please, that's all he wants to do and he says he won’t breathe until he can.’

King was proud to be the one who knew what he was doing while the others were standing around clueless for once in his life. So he never complained whenever he would be given the kids to watch, he loved being with them, Lance was the calmest child he had ever met and would spend most of his time following around King’s children to ask them to play, and Tristan was just in awe of most things King did, and would ask him to tell him stories while sitting on Chastiefol.

King adored Tristan for who he was and what he represented, Peace. Finally after 3000 years, a child of Meliodas and Elizabeth was born, they had waited so long for a child but never risked it before their curses were broken.

Seeing Tristan in that vision, with cold eyes and a war-torn look on his face, covered in heavy armor and riding upon a white horse shocked them all to their very core. They had never thought their kids would be dragged into war, not after all they had done to stop the last one, they had worked so hard for peace.

They knew something was wrong, after what happened to Lancelot they were all on guard, but they thought after they found him it would be done.

‘Five years isn’t that long’ they all had thought, ‘Surely after we find him and fix this we can all go back to living peacefully.’

Seeing Tristan had painfully reminded them all that while five years isn’t that long for them, five years was a third of their children’s lives. They’ve barely lived a decade and are already being thrown into war.

Yes, they were all distraught by seeing the young prince as the Knight in that vision but nothing could’ve prepared them for the knight that came next.

Ban hadn’t said anything when he saw the adult Lancelot standing there, he hadn’t said anything or moved at all, looking back, King realized that was probably due to the fact that he couldn’t breath.

To have not seen his first born for so long and then seeing him grown up in a prophetic vision warning them of the apocalypse? That must’ve hit hard, it apparently hit Gowther hard enough to have him make his second mistake, accidentally knocking them all unconscious.

It was dawn when they had gathered and midnight when they all awoke.

Gowther apologized profusely and tried to get the rest of the vision, but Batra’s mind was old, and his memory was shaky at best. He remembered that the other two knights would have Golden Magic, and Verdant, Wing-like hair.

The knight with the hair would be rather easy to spot, so they all quickly gathered that he must be out in the world somewhere, and wasn’t any of their children.

But the knight with Golden Magic could still be one of theirs.

King knew that Ban would be upset by the summoning, but he still wasn’t prepared for the rage and fear he felt from his brother-in-law's heart.

“I’m gonna go make sure everyone’s ready, calm your heart before coming out please? Everything will be fine, and I don’t want Deidrick or Ellie to pick up on anything.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it. Just go, I'll be out in a bit.”

As King left he spared one last look to the Fox Sin before leaving.

Ban was now left with nothing but his thoughts. And that was never fun. For anyone but especially not him.

This prophecy business was irking him, that fact that three knights were unaccounted for was problematic, the fact that they only knew who two of them even were wasn’t great either, and the fact that they only had one defining trait for each of the unknown two was fucking irritating.

They could literally be anywhere and anyone. The green hair wasn’t that bad because they could be easily identified. But the Golden Magic? Any child that hadn’t yet developed magic became a candidate. And since a large amount of the children he knew were still young, it was concerning, to say the least.

Ban was particularly concerned as neither of his youngest children had developed any innate magical abilities yet.

His daughter could float slightly and was growing healthily, Elaine’s best guess was that would likely inherit her magic, so he was less concerned about her.

But his second son, Gustav. That child worried Ban.

Gustav hadn’t displayed any magical abilities at all, and when Ban had asked around, none of his friends or acquaintances had sensed any innate magical ability within the boy.

Ban should feel relieved, but he wasn’t.

Despite most people believing that Ban was “A brute who couldn’t appreciate a good book if he was beaten to death with it, in fact they weren’t sure he could read at all”, (These were Gowther’s words to Ban after The Fox Sin had spilled Ale on Gowther’s Brand new Book, ‘A Week Spent With Fredrick’. Ban had apologized but Gowther was still bitter for about a month afterwards) Ban read quite a bit.

He had read about heroes who were a part of prophecies, and “The child without magic suddenly gains powerful magic and becomes a tragic hero” was a frighteningly common troupe.

So every day his son walked around with no magic, Ban would pray the child stayed that way.

The fact that the hero in the stories would always be from a long line of heroes or had some sort of tragic backstory, that only made Ban worry that much more, because he had adopted Gustav when the boy was seven.

And seven years is a lot of time unaccounted for.

Lancelot had been missing for two years when Ban made that journey to the edge of Benwick. It was a cold rainy night, in the middle of December. Elaine was waiting at home, heavily pregnant with their second child, and he had been extra paranoid since she was so close to her due date, and the rainstorms had started.

They had been tracking the weather like madmen ever since Lance and Jericho had disappeared that night, at this point Ban could feel the storm's arrival in his bones.

Even so, Ban couldn’t take any chances, so he was determined to do one quick check before heading back to his wife.

He was just about done when he heard it, a small cry of a child, how he had managed to hear it, let alone realize what it was through the tumultuous rain he didn’t know. But he hoped upon hope that maybe that cry belonged to Lance, that after two years his son had finally returned.

He dashed across the field to the middle of the valley in front of Benwick, calling out for someone to hear, he could barely see through the rain, he was soaked from head to toe.

He searched and listened but could hear nothing, see nothing.

He was almost convinced he had some sort of auditory hallucination when he heard it again, louder this time.

He pinpointed the sound coming from the stone near to where he and Jericho had last talked about the disappearances.

As he made his way there his hopes soared, finally, maybe he had found him. His son, his Lancelot.

His hopes were dashed almost as quickly as they had built. As he was ten feet away, there was a child there, behind the stone, but this child was just that, a child.

Lance would’ve been thirteen by now, and much larger.

As his hopes faded away into a despairing thought that he may never see his child again, his thoughts quickly turned to panic when he got closer and saw the child there, soaked worse then even Ban was, and the worst of it was the child wasn’t shivering.

Now Ban’s not the smartest but he knows that being that wet and cold your body should be moving trying to warm you up, that’s what the shivering was, the fact that the child wasn’t moving was more than concerning.

Ban began to walk to the child, ‘He has to be alive,’ Thought Ban as he approached, ‘He had called out to me, and I came here so fast, he couldn’t have died that quick.’

He put his hand on the kid's shoulder, slowly so as to not frighten him. The shoulder was as cold as he expected, when he turned the child’s body towards him, he nearly had a heart attack at what he saw.

Sunken in cheeks, and his frame was slim, too slim for a child, he had pale skin that stood out, even in the dead of night, Ban couldn’t even tell if the poor child was breathing or not.

Throwing caution to wind, he picked up the kid into his arms and removed the ripped, faded, useless, blue shirt to put his ear to the boy’s chest.

He had seen something like this before, a child that was cold, slim, and pale, (His sister had looked like this before she died) and he knew that no child could’ve survived a night like this all by themselves.

He knew that most likely what he heard was either the poor child's last hurrah, or the wind playing tricks on his mind. but still he hugged the cold child closer to his ear, hoping against all he knew.

‘Let me be wrong,’ He prayed, ‘Just this once, please let me be wrong.’

And for the first time in his life, it seemed God was on his side, for he heard it, the soft ‘bump-bump-bump’.

It came from the boy’s chest, and Ban swore he had never heard a sweeter sound in his life. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around the boy before taking off into the night, making a beeline for his home.

That night had been one of the most frightening, heartstopping, painstakingly slow nights of his life. He had brought the child home in a panic, holding him as close as physically possible, trying to warm him up.

Bursting into his home he had called out for Elaine, when she saw what he was carrying she immediately got to work, drawing a warm bath and breaking the emergency spell bead that had originally gotten as a way to summon Elizabeth to help with the birth.

To say Elizabeth was confused was an understatement, seeing as Elaine was still two months away from her due date. But she had quickly gathered what was going on and had chased Elaine and Ban from the washroom to focus on the poor boy.

Elaine and Ban had waited the whole night in the living room, waiting.

Elaine had fallen asleep two hours in, but Ban didn’t sleep that night, couldn’t sleep, not until he knew the boy would make it.

At midnight Elizabeth had come back down to them, looking as exhausted as Ban felt, and had told him that she had done all she could, and that the rest would be up to the boy.

She had offered to take Elaine to lay down while he watched over the boy, he had thanked her profusely for that.

He walked into the room with deep fear in his heart, as he saw the child lying there he had two conflicting emotions trying to settle within him.

One was a bleeding worry.

The child looked two steps from death’s door. Their breathing was erratic and heavy, interrupted with horrid coughs, their face was flushed a bright red, and he swore he could see tears leaking from the squeezed shut eyes. He was adrift with concern that the child might not make it through the night. He couldn’t take it, this child had barely lived. How old were they? They looked to be about five, but they were so thin, were they that small or starving? He didn’t know their age, he didn’t even know their name, he didn’t want to carve out a blank gravestone Goddamnit.

The second emotion was a deep, warm, fondness.

He looked at this child, so small, and saw his tiny eyebrows furrowed in anger, as if they were fighting against their sickness with all their tiny might. He looked at their small hands, clutching the blankets so tight they turned red, so small and so strong. He pushed back their bangs that were sticking to their head with sweat, he briefly wondered what color his hair would be when they got it cleaned? He had known this child for less then a day but he knew that he would protect him with his dying breath.

He had picked up a storybook Gowther had gifted him for Lance, deciding to read to the boy. As he read the book he could hear the boys breathing starting to settle into even breaths, no longer wracked with coughing.

When he finished the seventh story, a tale of two parents and their baby being saved by a ghostly warrior, the sun had begun to rise out the window, shining onto the small boy. That was when he heard it.

“P-please…” The child had spoken, Ban had barely heard it.

He got closer to the child, brushing his hair back and asking what he needed, water? Food? Was he cold?

The boy had furrowed his brows as he struggled to respond, but had managed to utter softly,

“Please… turn the stupid sun off… it’s hurting my eyes.”

Ban had never cried so happily in years.

The boy had taken months to fully recover, (He still had breathing problems to this day) but had been quickly inducted into Ban’s family. He couldn’t remember who he was, or where he came from. The last thing he remembered was walking through the rain looking for shelter, and calling out for help before collapsing, he didn’t know how far he had walked. He couldn’t remember what his name was either, so Ban and Elaine had decided to just call him their Boyo, just in case he remembered.

When Beru was born the boy had been quick to help wherever he could, making sure Elaine could rest comfortably and cleaning up around the house so it was easier. Elaine still recounts how helpful he had been to this day.

There was this moment, about four months after Beru had been born, when she was trying to roll onto her stomach while lying down on the bed, and she had somehow managed to wiggle her way out of her blanket pile and scoot near the edge of the bed without attracting Ban or Elaine’s notice, but she hadn’t escaped the boy’s.

She had nearly rolled herself off the bed but the boy had flung himself towards her and had caught her at the last moment, Elaine and Ban had rushed to the both of them to find their Boyo red faced, chastising the small baby about how she should’ve stayed in her blanket pile and had no reason to throw herself off the bed.

Beru just giggled, having no idea what the boy was saying but seemingly amused by him all the same. The boy wasn’t as amused but still carried her to Elaine, Beru still overcome with giggles.

Watching the scene, Ban had been reminded of something, a long memory buried deep back in his mind, of the only time he had ever seen Jericho’s older brother talk to her.

He had gone to check on her, mostly because he was told by Merlin to double check that he had actually fully removed the demon seed from her, but partly because he had felt slightly guilty for unintentionally driving her to become a demon host by purposely humiliating her at the prison, but you’d never hear him admit that outloud.

When he had finally found her, she was already in a heated discussion with someone else, her older brother.

He was apparently chastising her for ‘running herself ragged’ to which she countered with ‘walking down the street to get something to eat wasn’t running herself ragged, she was just bored for God’s sake!’ to which he then responded with ‘It’s running yourself ragged when we literally have people we pay to do that so you can rest you incorrigible dumbass! You had a DEMON residing in your body feasting on your emotions for months! AND YOU CAN’T REST FOR A WEEK!?’

His entire face had gone bright red with anger at his sister’s nonchalance for her own health, which she had apparently found hilarious because she had started laughing hysterically.

Her brother wasn’t as amused but he helped her back to her feet and they started the other way, Jericho laughing the whole way.

Ban stared at the children in front of him as he was reminded of that day, the only clear memory he had of his foster sister and her real brother, and remembered his name.

“Gustav.”

“Yeah Dad?” The boy had responded.

That one response had shocked both of the boys in the room into silence, the only thing anyone could hear was Beru, still giggling.

After trying to coax the boy out from under the bed, where he had hid in embarrassment, Ban had decided to talk with him about how he would adore if the boy wanted to call him Dad, and had asked why he had responded to the name.

“It felt right? I don’t know, you said it and it sounded like you were talking to me, sorry.”

“Kid, you don’t have to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Ban was lying down next to the bed on the floor on his back, talking to the child as he rested his small chin on his crossed arms.

“Does someone else already have it?” The child questioned.

“Have what?”

“The name, you said it. Does someone else have it or did you make it up? Like you did with Master Hawk?”

Ban fixed the boy with a slightly annoyed look, “Number one, Master Hawk is very real-” The boy fixed him with an equally annoyed look and scoffed slightly, “AND, no. I didn’t make it up, he was my-” He cut himself off there, were he and Gustav anything?

Jericho was Ban’s sister, and he was her Brother, you could pry that title from his cold dead hands, but he and Gustav were never close, had they ever even spoken to each other? Or was Ban just a stranger that had known Gustav’s sister and attened his funeral?

“He was your what?” The boy had scooted slightly out from under the bed, enough to lay his upper body on Ban’s chest to look him in the eye. And as Ban looked at the boy, he decided that he had already claimed Jericho, he was sure Gustav wouldn't mind if Ban decided to claim him too.

“He was my little brother, his name was Gustav, and he was an annoying older brother, seeing you nag Beru reminded me of him.”

The boy puffed his cheeks out in anger, “I wasn’t nagging!”He said fervently, ”She needed to know she can’t just roll herself off of places like that! She could get hurt!”

“She’s like three months old.”

“If you treat her like a baby she’ll never grow up! You gotta talk grown up like and then she’ll copy you! And besides, I know she knows better, you can tell from her eyes.”

“See? Naggy~♪”

The boy had then smacked Ban on the head before fully laying down on top of him.

“If he’s your younger brother, how could he nag like an older brother?”

“... He didn’t nag me, just our younge-” He choked up a bit at this point, he hadn’t really talked about Jericho since she and Lance had disappeared, he cleared his throat before continuing, “Our younger sister, Jericho…”

“Oh… D-do… Do you think he’d be… Okay with it?”

“Okay with what?”

The boy had curled up into the crook of Ban’s arm, he did that often, whenever he was unsure of things and needed comfort.

“With me using his name? Will it get confusing? Would he be mad?”

“No buddy, I think he’d like it. I think he’d like it a lot.”

“Okay… Then I’ll use it good, so he’s happy, I’ll grow up big and strong, so his name gets a good story.”

Ban broke into a wide grin at that, “Sounds like a great idea~♪, Super smart like.”

“Thanks… Dad.”

Ban was glad the boy had curled himself into his arm, he didn’t like letting kids see him cry.

“No problem… Gustav.”

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sothas · 1 year

Note

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact

For Nils! Btw, I love your oc; I find Dunmer so beautiful, and my very first character in Skyrim was a Dark Elf, so I'm emotionally attached to this race! 💕

Thank you so much for asking about Nils!! And for your kind words, it makes me so happy to know that people love her as much as I do :,) ❤️

👪 - This might end up being a bit of a hefty answer but I’ll try and shorten it :,D Nilonii doesn’t have any siblings, and her relationship with her biological parents is pretty poor. She was a child prodigy in her home of Sadrith Mora, and her parents only really cared for results (this is partially tied to House Telvanni politics, and is part of the reason why she hates it), so Nils was emotionally neglected during her time at home. Around the age of 18 she successfully (with injury :,)) transported herself into the Clockwork City, and shortly after became Sotha Sil’s apprentice, which is where their father/daughter bond formed! She sees him as her real father and he sees her as the daughter he never had. Nilonii has never treated him as a god so it was easy for more of her real personality to come out as she healed. Can you tell I’m a sucker for found family tropes haha

🍧 - Nils has had the same staff pretty much her whole life, with the Telvanni motif on it. I like to think it serves as a reminder of how far she’s come since her time in Sadrith Mora, and that she’s still (in a way) proud to be a Telvanni despite not agreeing with a lot of their beliefs. So she’d be really upset if she lost it, since it’s such a sentimental item :)

🌌 - The first thing I decided about Nilonii, even before I knew her name, was that she was going to be a Telvanni :,D When I first started properly playing ESO I wanted to have a Dunmer character for each Great House, and I did Telvanni first. Originally I wasn’t going to go in depth for her character, but then I did! My first draft of Nils’ character/personality was inspired by Neloth’s, but just a bit more agreeable. And then over years (and more recently in past months) she’s become the character she is today :D

📎 - Nils is actually really good at hand to hand combat! She learned a lot of it from Luciana Pullo, who was pestered non-stop until she agreed to teach Nilonii some moves :,)

Here’s the ask game, for those who are interested!

#also congrats on being my first ask :D #ask game #nilonii telvayn

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boyinafandom · 4 months

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It’s golden hour somewhere

JeffxNina

Requested by @immortalwoman2

Rich Jeff au

In this au there will be:

A HEALTHY relationship dynamic between Jeff and Nina

Jeff is still an ass (don’t worry) just not to Nina or their kids (yes they have kids shhh)

(Nina)body dysmorphia

Nina’s poc. And I don’t want to hear a single thing about it.>:(

Past sh

There children are:

Silas 8

(Adopted) Rico 12

Aliyah 17

Yo momma 🧍‍♂️…🕺

___________________

Jeff was an ass. We can all admit that. But when it came to Nina and the children they made,it’s like he didn’t have a single mean bone in his body.

________

*~{Nina’s point of view}~*

As I sat there, getting Silas ready for bed, my youngest, I let out a hushed sigh.

“You all ready sil?”

I say, smiling.

“Mhm! All ready momma”

She had a smile on her face, she had her father’s smile, wide. With many pearly white teeth. It was almost an uncanny resemblance, it was kind of scary.

One time, as I remember it now, while I tuck her in, and make my way down the hall to my middles room,she somehow figured out how to open a pomegranate (which is odd, considering that I only left her alone for five minutes)and got the seed juice all over her and her clothes, so when I walked into the kitchen and only saw her in a puddle of what appeared to be blood. I freaked out, and in the process of me trying to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself all she did was look at me wide eyed and flash that thousand dollar smile, truly terrifying stuff when I think back on it.

As I finally get to Rico’s room (in the overly large house that I told Jeff we didn’t need, I mean, we already own like 5 others,so why would we need this one(???)) the door was open, so I knocked on the frame.

“Hey Rico? It’s time for bed honey.”

“What why? I don’t usually have to go to sleep this early?”

“Because it’s a school night..?”

The best part about my other two being at a reasonable age is that I can be deeply honest with them without hurting their feelings…mostly

“Uhhh huh…”

“Are you high”

I say, not in an accusatory way of course, but his sister has had a weed problem for a minute now, and if I find out she gave him some again, I’m sending her to military school.

“No why?”

I squint

“Just..wondering…”

After tucking him in and kissing him good night

I finally went to bed, knowing that my oldest was at her boyfriend’s house.

___

After getting out of the shower (looking like a wet rat😔😔) I grimaced at the reflection in the mirror , not because of my wet hair, or the scars on my arms, or the cracks in my hips, but my stomach. God how I hated it. I loved my kids, I really did. But no amount of working out would fix what they did to my body.

In the middle of me staring down the loaded gun that was my body, I heard Jeff enter our bedroom.he must have finally got done working in his office. Not like he’d care enough to leave work to see me, I mean look at me. I’m fucking disgusting.

____

Jeff’s pov

I lightly knocked on the bathroom door, I knew what she was doing, that thing she did, where she stares at herself until she can’t look anymore and she huffs a sigh, gets dressed in her hello kitty pjs and goes to bed like nothing happened.

“Nina..is everything ok?”

I hear her suck in a breath

“Mhm.”

She says, like she’s on the verge of tears. My poor love..

“May I see you?”

“Mm-mm”

I feel my face darken

“Your body is beautiful. And nothing will ever change my mind on that”

“If only I could tell you how stunning you are. If only you could see that your more then just your physical appearance. Your more then a flat stomach, a hour glass figure, full lips, so so so much more.”

I hear her shuffle around the bathroom. Presumably getting clothes on. Then the door cracks open:

“You think so?”

She looks like she’s about to cry, and then I finally get to see her again, without the white face paint and poppy eye makeup. Her stunning chocolate skin, her two toned lips,her large doe like hazel eyes, her pupils dilate as she sees me.

“More than anything.”

We smile at eachother, god how I love my wife

____

Have another half ass ending because I’m gonna pass out (for many reasons)

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #writers on tumblr #nina the killer #yo momma🧍‍♂️#they have KIDS???😱#request #reqs open

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lokihzra · 2 years

Text

The Drugs Will Never Love You

Chapter 2: We Are All Just Prisoners here, Of Our Own Device

Pairing: Loki x Tony Stark

Warnings: sex work, mentions of gangs, slurs

Word Count: 1.6k

Read on AO3

It was silent the whole ride, all the way up to the hotel room.

It was a nice hotel, one of the expensive ones. Everything was gold and Tony hates it. Theres a queen bed with two nightsands, a tv on the wall adjacent to it and a desk right beside the tv, on the right side of the bed was a closet and a door to the bathroom. On the left side is a giant window and a kitchen.

That’s how rich people liked to do this. He thinks that the fancy environment distracts them from the fact that they bought a hooker, like it somehow covers up their own lies.

And Loki seems to be very adamant on covering this up. He instantly locks the door behind them and runs through the room to close all the blinds.

Tony sighs loudly, pushing back the unease settling in his stomach.

Let’s get this over with.

Tony pulls off his shirt lazily, “hundred for a handjob, blowjobs one-sixty” he starts unbuttoning his pants “if you top its two-fifty-“

Loki suddenly steps in front of him and grabs his hands, stopping him from shrugging off his jeans “how much is it to just sleep?”

Tony blinks at him, but Loki’s expression doesn’t shift. He just keeps staring at Tony with that concerned look “what?” Tony asks dumbly as shame starts to break through

“sleep” Loki demands as he lets go of Tony and the latter instantly puts his shirt back on. “I can already tell that you’ve been up for days” he doesn’t mention Tony’s tiny ass pupils.

Tony frowns, He’s a sex worker, a prostitute, a junkie. This shit isn’t supposed to happen to people like him “I can’t” he mutters “I need the money”

“I will give you five hundred right now if you go to sleep and eat something”

Tony doesn’t say anything, not believing this is real. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life. “well that’s enough money for tonight I guess”

Loki was serious about not wanting to do anything.

It’s been over three hours now and Loki stayed the entire time that Tony was sleeping. He even went and got food for them.

Burgers and fries, his favorite and Loki remembering that does not make him want to cry. “thank you” Tony mumbles quietly as he stares down at the take out, “for all of this” Loki simply nods and hums. “why are you doing this?”

“what?” Loki mumbles through his mouthful of fries.

“why are you staying? why aren’t you using me?” he keeps asking questions “why are you being nice to me? why do you care?”

“you’re my friend” Loki states and takes a sip of his drink before stating that “friends help each other”

That’s true, too bad Tony can’t help Loki out to pay him back. He asks “how did you guys get into this?”

“my dad created this” Loki says quietly, obviously hating the fact that his family runs the biggest business in town “he didn’t give me much of a choice” he mumbles quietly, hoping Tony didn’t actually hear him. “How did you get into this?”

“mom died, spiraled and now here I am”

“hows Pepper and Rhodey?”

Tony shrugs “I havent talked to them in a couple years” he would just get in the way anyways “they’re together now”

“that's..” Loki blinks as he thinks of a word “unexpected”

“more unexpected than me being a hooker?” he asks lightheartedly and Loki takes a bite of his burger to avoid answering.

Tony wants to ask him, so badly but he knows how this shit works. Loki can’t get him out just because Loki asks, they have to earn it.

“I’m in charge of the drug part” Loki blurts out “Thor is in charge of the gangs and my father is in charge of-“

“me” Tony finishes “there’s no way he’ll let me go” that’s clear from how fucking happy Odin was earlier. “he’s probably going to use this against Howard”

“I paid for you for three days” Tony wants to throw up again, “you can stay here, there’s room service and no one should bother you”

“why?”

“you asked Morgan for a break”

Tony sits up in a jolt and instantly examines the room. Only to find nice silk blankets and the golden interior.

For once he woke up knowing where he is.

He looks beside him to find no one. No random guy or girl and Tony can’t help but sigh in relief before laying back down.

His bones fucking hurt and he can feel himself sweating, his body trembling even though he feels hot as shit.

Stupid fucking withdrawals are starting.

He rolls out of bed and groans when he forces himself to stand up. His entire body feels like lead, and he could swear his head was an inlfated balloon ready to pop.

He leans against the desk and sighs, gathering the strength to function– He freezes as he sees a note, with money underneath it.

I had to go to work and I didn’t want to wake you. I told the staff not to bother you, even told Morgan and mt dad that you’re with me, so do not leave unless it’s necessary. There’s 1500$ here, do whatever you want with it just please don’t go and see Morgan. I’ll be back around 7.

He picks up the stack of cash and counts it, out of habit. All fifteen hundred is there and Tony gets the urge to burn it. He puts it down with shaky hands and sighs, he can feel his heart beating harder, struggling to function properly after a week of staying up and taking every drug he could find.

He could either dig himself a deeper hole right now or start building himself up.

So he goes to see Morgan

Loki was trying to figure out a way to get Tony out. He lied about work because he knows Tony, if Tony knew he was trying to do this then Tony would have stopped him.

Plus Loki isn’t the only one who wants him out.

“only dad could let him go” Thor states the obvious “you could clear him from the drug debt but dad won’t let him go, he’s the biggest-“

“I know” Loki growls, not because it disgusts him but because it pisses him off. Tony’s too deep in this to get out without some collateral damage.

“where is he anyways?” Thor asks, because he knows that Loki doesn’t utilize the business like that. “Dad told me that you said he was with you”

“he’s safe”

“dad thinks that yo-“

“I know he does” Loki interrupts, he fucking hates himself for it. But if Odin knew that he was just paying for Tony to take care of himself then Odin would be pissed. “and he needs to keep thinking that or else he won't let Tony near me anymore”

Tony earns them more money than any of the other workers and Odin would not let that go.

And he would definitely not let Loki waste money.

“he might let Tony out if we do something for-“

“no”

“it’s the only way” Thor says softly.

“I can barely stand this life already, Thor” he states seriously “you really think I would be able to fucking kill someone?”

“not you” Thor corrects “him” he says happily, meaning Tony. And Loki has never wanted to punch Thor in the face this badly before.

“he was crying in his sleep” Loki blurts and that seems to make it click for Thor, because the latter recoils in surprise “full on balling his eyes out, kept asking for a break, he’s covered in bruises and needle pricks so no I’m not going to let Tony kill someone for our stupid dad”

“if he heard you say that-“ Thor shuts up as Loki’s phone starts going off, no one ever calls him, only Odin.

So he has no choice but to answer.

He takes a deep breath, knowing this isn’t good. “hello?”

He flinches away as Odin is screaming in his ear, “I shouldn’t have thought so highly of you boy-“

“dad-”

“-you lied to me, you said the whore was with you”

Loki lies easily “I just needed to deal with something really quick” Odin pauses a sign that he bought it. But he quickly asks “Why did Morgan say that he showed up with fifteen hundred dollars?” harshly and both of the brothers freeze “you better not be paying him”

“probably went a did some jobs while I was here” Loki’s a great liar, that’s the whole reason Odin wants him in this shit “you know he makes good money”

“If I found out that you’re wasting the money-“

“you’ll skin me alive, I know” And Loki gets a beep signaling the line cut off. He drops his phone, literally drops it and buries his face in his hands with a large sigh.

Thor comments “he just screwed this up” like Loki didn’t already know.

Tony was so fucking proud of himself. So proud. He didn’t buy any drugs, not a single hit. Well he did buy a pack of smokes but that’s better than his usual preference.

And he couldn’t wait to tell Loki.

He hears the sound of a key in the door and he instantly gets up. He was so fucking happy, but he couldn’t say a word to Loki before he fucking pushed Tony.

Tony curls in on himself as he stumbles back from Loki’s force “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

16 notes · View notes

soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

Hewwo~ Can I request a smutty/fluffy scenario(with a dash of angst) with Dazai and an overweight!reader, like the reader thinks that Dazai is 1000 times better than her and is super shy whenever sexy times start(like she would close the lights etc etc) and Dazai absolutely does not understand what's going on with reader because he thinks that she's beautiful , sorry if this is much I just really need Dazai to tell me I'm pretty 🥺🥺 Thank you so much! love your writing -daffodildazaiwrites

ADA!DAZAI OSAMU

》 fluff (a little angst and just a slight touchiness)

》 dazai x overweight!reader

》 word count: 1.1k

》 hi sil, this is such a cute request, definitely not too much i love this idea— also, i think you’re an amazing person so you deserve to know how beautiful you are, i will not hesitate to remind you everyday~ i hope this is okay! ♡ඩ⌔ඩ♡ @daffodildazaiwrites

Through My Eyes

Dazai looks at you as you fiddle with your fingers, quietly sitting on the guest couch in the ADA office waiting for him. He makes a mental note to apologise later for making you wait, seeing as how Kunikida is adamant on not letting him go until he finishes this last paperwork.

He looks up as an intern awkwardly passes him a file for his case report, face beet red as she does so. Dazai laughs at her expression, telling her a simple ‘thank you’ before sending her on her way. She stays for a few moments, seemingly having an internal conflict, before deciding to leave him alone.

Sensing someone staring, he turns to look at your direction only to have you look away immediately. He notices how your brows are slightly furrowed and your lips are downturned into a slight frown. You are... dissatisfied? What for? Dazai certainly made it a point not to flirt or give the girl any hints to advance. Was this... jealousy? But he quickly shrugs it off.

No way that my belladonna is jealous. No one can compare to her.

On the way home later, he realises you growing quiet as you pass a group of girls who are seemingly gushing over him. They give you the side eye though, sneering at you somehow, although you did nothing wrong. ‘Someone with her body?’ is all he manages to hear before they start shushing themselves.

As the two of you pass by them, Dazai pulls you in by the waist and gives you a kiss on the cheek, causing you to turn a bright red. His stoic expression turns into that of tenderness, his thumbs grazing your cheeks as he admires how innocent you look.

“I love you, my belladonna,” Dazai murmurs. He had planned to make this a show to shut them up, but he realises that in this moment, that is exactly how he feels.

Disgruntled, the group of girls saunter away, talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. That doesn’t surprise Dazai at all, but what he did not expect is for you to be upset all the way back home.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Dazai finds himself relieved when you seem to have relaxed a little after dinner, although it was partly due to a lot of coaxing and acting cute on his end. A lot of “won’t you talk to me, my love nugget?” and “I know you wanna talk to this idiot, my precious sugar bun.”

He knows you can’t handle the sheer ridiculousness of his pet names, and he’s right. It got you out of your head enough to enjoy the moment. But it came right back out again in the bedroom.

Your lips are locked with his in a passionate kiss, his hands fiddling with your shirt, just one button away from baring your body.

“Turn off the lights,” you tell him, pulling away from the kiss, your hands trying to cover as much of your already exposed belly.

Dazai gives a throaty chuckle and teethes your earlobe, eliciting a moan from your lips, his left hand moving up to cup your breast in response to your welcoming mood. But he couldn’t get any further before you snap at him.

“Dazai, I’m serious! Is it so hard to turn them off?”

Startled, he sits back up and just blinks at you, unsure of what he did that deserved such a hostile remark from you. Yes, the lights always had to be switched off whenever the two of you got a little touchy, but he never really thought of any possible reasons behind it. Dazai had just attributed it to a weird habit, not that he bothered to think of what caused it.

“What’s wrong, my belladonna?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he spots the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know I’m not as hot as those skinny girls that Iike to throw themselves at you, and I’m not beautiful or desirable like they are—”

Dazai pulls you into a tight embrace as he hears you out, not believing his ears. Where is all this coming from? Sure, he had considered this a likely cause for your frustration earlier, but for you to be crying this much and having so much to say about it— you must have been thinking about this forever.

From the intern who had been struggling to make her feelings known to him to the group of girls maliciously poking fun at her, he realises why today is especially rough on you. The situations just amplify what you’ve been feeling about yourself all along.

Then he realises how selfish he must have been. Each time he shrugs your feelings off, each time he avoids talking to you about it, each time he tries to compensate it with goofy jokes, all he’s done is make you push your feelings down, leaving you alone to try and get over it yourself.

And this is the result of your pent up frustration.

This is his first time being in a proper relationship, and though he has barely had any truly romantic experience, he does know that he should be someone you could count on to share your problems with. He internally scolds himself for not figuring it out faster, but for now he settles with holding you and stroking your back, getting you to calm down.

Maybe sometimes, I really do have to actually say how I feel about you...

“I think you look ravishing just the way you are, my belladonna,” he murmurs in your ear once your sobs get quiet enough. A hand makes its way under your chin to tilt it up to face him. The corner of his lips upturn into a soft smile. “My little love muffin.”

That attempt to make you smile does not escape you, and you concede, giggling slightly, his earlier words seeming to have an effect on you.

“Your smile makes me glad I’m alive to see it,” he ponders out loud, eyes widening as soon as he realises he’s said it. Dazai never really admitted it to himself until now.

It’s you. You make him glad to still be living. In the sea of humans where everyone blended in together to him, you stand out. And he’s never seen you as ugly or undesirable, which is why you feeling that way about yourself has never crossed his mind until now.

How can he make you see yourself through his eyes?

“I think you’re unrivalled in your beauty, belladonna,” Dazai begins, eyes never leaving yours. “I love you, your curves, your person. You are beautiful just the way you are, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in the world.”

You suddenly start tearing up again, burying your head in his chest as you begin sobbing once more. But Dazai knew that this time they aren’t tears of despair, but those of relief; elation.

“I will support you through anything you decide,” Dazai assures you, embracing you tighter and resting his head on top of yours. “And about earlier, I’m sorry... I’ll turn off the lights whenever you ask, until you’re ready.”

Your arms find their way around him and hug him even tighter— your way of showing your gratefulness, seeing as how you can’t seem to get a word out without choking on your tears.

Dazai hates how he can never find enough words to tell you how much he adores every single bit of you, but he knows he wants to at least spend the rest of his life trying.

“Even if you’re never ready for that, I will still love you, my wonderful belladonna, just the way you are.”

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd oneshot #bsd scenarios #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd osamu dazai #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bsd imagines #bsd imagine #bsd osamu dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #rachwrote #bsd fluff

190 notes · View notes

this-tumbleweed-surecan-fish · 2 years

Text

Poison the Well

Word count: 3.554

Warnings: Mentioned murder and explosion mention, guns used to threaten people, murder talk, grief, death mention, self-injury and a bit of blood.

Ao3

First, Previous Chapter

Chapter Eight; In which Grian gets banned from the Library

The desk in the guest room was still covered in papers Grian didn't understand, so he settled at the dinner table to sort his information.

There were a few question marks he wanted answers to.

Who was Avery Morrison exactly? Did they have any friends or family that could help him to more information? Surely they'd want Avery's murder to be solved.

What was the symbol in Avery's pocket watch? What did it mean? If it was the symbol of a community, then where could he find them? Who did they have a conflict with, who might want Avery dead?

Which community did the medallion belong to? Was there a way to track them down?

And what was Red Death? He'd seen it mentioned a dozen times, rendering plenty of limbs as 'Unusable' according to the Undead, and while it didn't seem to be relevant to the case as far as he could tell, he was curious.

Grian tapped his fingers against the table, pondering over the questions.

He had to start somewhere.

But where?

He shifted to lean his chin on his hands and tap against his knuckles instead.

What could he even do at the moment?

Grian didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind him until Iskall suddenly leaned over his shoulder.

"So- calm down, it's just me," they pushed his fully puffed up wing out of their face. "So are you going to move this mess or am I going to have to eat on the sofa?"

Grian stared at them confused.

"When did you get home?!"

"Like an hour ago," he glanced at the clock. "And dinner's ready, so are you going to move, or not?"

"I- I can move," Grian picked up his notes and cast a glance at the clock himself. How had he spent two hours on this already? Where had the time gone?

Iskall picked up the other papers and helped him move them to the sofa. They hesitated before setting down the watch again.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked.

"Uh, it belonged to the victim, Avery. Why do you recognize it?"

Iskall frowned. "I'm not sure. It seems familiar. But I don't know where I could've seen it before.

They shrugged.

"Huh," Grian made and took the watch from Iskall again. "You've been holding it upside down," he noticed and turned it. "Though... It does seem familiar this way around..."

"Well, you can look at it again after dinner. I'm hungry and it's getting cold," Iskall left him standing.

Grian frowned at the symbol a moment longer. Where had he seen it before? There weren't many places in Mountark he'd been, so where-?

Mumbo fell asleep nearly as soon as he laid down, leaving Grian alone with his thoughts as he preened his feather. His mind wandered back to counting days and depressingly high numbers.

He hated it.

Preening was beginning to be his least favourite part of the day.

He was almost tempted to skip it. Just for a day. It wasn't like he'd get to fly anytime soon.

His pride shut that line of thought up quickly.

3.629 days, his mind supplied.

Grian tugged harshly at one of the broken feathers.

He barely stopped himself from ripping it out.

---

When Grian woke up the house was empty.

The clock in the living room had started ticking backwards again and it took him entirely too long to remember that he could check the time on Avery's watch. He wasn't sure why he kept forgetting about it.

It was nearly noon.

He wanted to go back to bed.

With a tired sigh he went into the kitchen and made himself a small breakfast. Or lunch. He wasn't all that sure.

As he ate he read over his notes again. Most of them actually made sense, to his surprise.

He didn't really want to go out searching for anything today. But there wasn't much else he could do to be productive.

An hour later he left the house, slamming the door shut behind himself.

The fog was still thick and he couldn't see further than maybe five metres before all he could make out were vague silhouettes and dull lights. The Heart was a dark and red shape in the sky.

Grian followed the streets where they took him not really paying attention to anything while trying to find something to think about that wasn't depressing.

In a tiny road leading under a house he found a phone booth and stopped before he could think it over.

He stepped inside.

A dull orange light illuminated the dusty telephone and Grian dug through his pocket for a few beak.

He didn't remember Taurtis number if he'd even told him after moving away - what did it say about him that he didn't know -, but he remembered a few others.

"Hello?" a slightly distorted voice answered the phone after just a few moments.

"Hi, Pearl," Grian said. "It's me. Grian."

For a moment she was silent.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"In a phone booth. In Mountark."

She knew that last part. She'd either read it in the newspaper or maybe she'd been at the trial. He didn't know. He hadn't dared to look around. He'd barely looked at the jury

"Why are you calling me?" Pearl asked. In the background, a cat meowed.

"I... I don't know. I miss you."

"... I miss you too," she answered. "And I don't know if I should because you killed over a dozen people and blew up half the town."

Not half of it, he wanted to defend. It really didn't make it better and he'd tried his hardest to forget the details. Unsuccessfully, but he'd tried.

"How's Mountark?" she asked after a beat of silence.

"A shit hole."

Pearl chuckled.

"I'm trying to solve a murder," he continued. "I know, kinda ironic but... This town is weird."

Another beat of silence.

"Why did you do it?" Pearl asked.

Grian opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't know how to explain. Where to begin for it all to make sense-

A sharp beep startled him.

The call had ended.

Grian dropped the hearer, letting it dangle on its cord, to pat down his pockets for any more change. He had to finish this conversation, he had to take this opportunity to explain-

He came up empty.

There was no money in any of his pockets.

Defeated he leaned back against the icy glass of the phone booth.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Fucking dammit."

For a few moments he hoped she'd call him back, but the phone stayed silent, swinging back and forth with the last of its momentum.

With a sigh Grian stepped out into the fog again.

He should've explained. He should've asked how she was doing. He should've asked and said so many things in the time he'd waisted on uncomfortable silence.

Muscle memory carried him to the lift and down the streets leading to the Barge. At the library he glanced at the clock - it was past noon now - and turned down towards the-

Grian stopped short and turned back around.

The clock over the library door ticked on innocently.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Grian scrambled to pull out Avery's watch and opened it.

On the dial of the clock someone had painted the very same symbol with delicate brushstrokes.

They ticked in unison.

Grian shut the watch again.

He hadn't really been looking, but he guessed he'd found it anyway.

Grian took a deep breath, pushed the phone call to the back of his mind and stepped inside.

The library was warm and the smell of old wood filled the air.

At a small counter sat an elderly woman, sorting books onto a small cart.

There were a few other tables where people sat either reading or talking in low voices.

Grian went up to the counter and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," he said quietly. The librarian looked up from the books. "Do you recognize this, by chance?"

Grian pulled out Avery's watch and let it dangle from its chain.

The woman's eyes widened.

"You-," Grian barely noticed her reach under the counter. "How dare you?"

With a movement far faster than he'd expected off a human her age she pulled a revolver from under the counter and pointed it at his face.

Grian flinched back.

"How dare you waltz into my library?" a few heads turned their way.

"What?" was all Grian managed to say. The only thoughts going through his mind were all centered around the fact that there was a gun and again and this time he was definitely going to die.

"What's going on?" someone stood up from one of the tables, but Grian didn't dare take his eyes off the gun.

"You kill my child and then you have the gall to rub it in my face?" the woman hissed. "Not with me. You've taken enough from us!"

"Wha- I didn't kill Avery!" Grian exclaimed. "I didn't, I swear! Just please, put the gun down!"

"Sibeal, calm down," someone came closer cautiously.

"I didn't kill Avery," Grian repeated. "I'm trying to find who did!"

"Prove it!" she demanded, still not putting down the revolver.

"Sibeal, please," the other person tried again, falling on deaf ears.

"I don't- How do you want me to prove it?"

Sibeal studied him for a moment.

"Who do you belong to?" she asked.

Grian hesitated, slightly unsure, and slowly reached into his pocket for the medallion. He made sure it was his own, not the one with the leather string, before pulling it out.

"Is- You mean this?" he offered it.

Sibeal narrowed her eyes at it and for a split second, Grian feared that that had been the wrong thing to do.

"A Hermit," she glanced at him and - finally - lowered the gun. "What business do you have with our conflict? What does X want from us?

Grian lowered his hands slowly, too aware that she could still shoot him whenever she wanted to. At one of the tables that had fallen silent earlier people began to whisper. Grian ignored them

"Me investigating has nothing to do with the Hermits," he clarified. "Avery was killed in the shop I work at and the police are convinced that my boss did it. I'm trying to prove that it wasn't him. I didn't know it was a bigger conflict when I started investigating."

She watched him for a moment as if trying to figure out whether he was telling the truth.

"Aren't you the kid Willy picked up?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You're right, he's not the type for murder," she frowned down at his medallion again.

Grian wished she'd give it back.

"Where did you get the watch?"

"From Mother's Garden. I can give it back if you want," he added quickly.

Sibeal's expression darkened again.

"Please do," the other person said.

Grian looked at them for the first time.

They were about his height and their skin looked weirdly like old bark. Their eyes glowed a dull green. They reached one hand out and Grian gave them the watch.

"Thank you," they said, feeling it for dents.

"Why should I believe you that you're just here on your choice?" Sibeal asked.

"I...," Grian shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to tell you. I don't think X even knows about this?"

"Prove it," she picked up the revolver again.

Grian shook his head desperately. "I have no idea how! I really don't! What do you want from me?"

Sibeal clicked her tongue in annoyance and lowered it again.

"Fine, then have you at least made yourselves useful? What do you know about who killed my kid?"

"I found a medallion that I'm pretty sure belonged to the killer," Grian answered. "I don't know whom. Uhm, imaybe you know who it belongs to?"

He offered it and she took it, turning it over a few times.

"This isn't Ol' Nelly's symbol," she frowned.

"Do you recognize it?"

"No, I don't think I do."

"So it's not the people you've been suspecting," Grian concluded. Then it wasn't part of whatever conflict he'd stumbled upon he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Can I see?" someone spoke up from one of the tables.

Sibeal flinched, as if she'd forgotten that there were more people in the library than just the three of them.

"Mind your business," she hissed. "Don't you have better things to do than watch us?"

There were three people at the table, with a large stack of books between them.

"Not really," one of them shrugged.

"So, can I see?" the other repeated, stretching out a hand.

"If you try to keep it I'll shoot you," Sibeal threatened and tossed it over.

"You really shouldn't," the man barely managed to catch the medallion and turned it over a few times. His companions leaned over the table to get a glance as well.

"Hey, I've seen this before," one of them said. "I'm not sure where but I've definitely seen it before. I think it was somewhere lower down? Not sure though."

"Very helpful," Sibeal said sarcastically.

The guy shrugged and the first guy tossed the medallion back. It fell short and the person who still held the watch barely managed to catch it. They handed it over to Sibeal.

"What makes you think I shouldn't shoot you," Sibeal asked, glancing at the medallion. Perhaps she was making sure they hadn't done anything to it.

"Well, first off, it's four against two - " Grian frowned. There still were only three people at the table. " - and also X really wouldn't like that."

Sibeal's face fell.

"Hermits."

A nod.

"Damn you. You're just like cockroaches, aren't you? Always there when you don't need them," she hissed.

"Thanks?"

Sibeal sighed deeply and rubbed her temple.

"I don't suppose you're gonna let me ask you some questions?" Grian asked hesitantly.

Another sigh before Sibeal glared at him again.

"Out," she commanded suddenly. "Out, all of you."

"We didn't do anything!" one of the Hermits at the table protested.

"I said, out! I don't want to see any of you for at least twelve months!" she picked up her revolver again, gesturing at the door with it.

Grian didn't waste another second and he heard the other three follow him out.

"We didn't even get to check out any of the books," one of the three complained. He had thin horns, beginning just behind his temples and curling backwards. One of the others also had horns, smaller but thicker and growing out of his forehead. Grian was pretty sure horns were uncommon for humans. At least he hadn't seen many with them back at home.

"So, who are you?" the third guy asked. The most notable thing about him was his eyes. They were deep red and glowed slightly. "I don't think I've seen you at any meetings before."

"I haven't been to any. I'm new. You can call me Grian," Grian answered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tango," the one with the red eyes said. He didn't seem to blink, or if he did it was way too infrequent, making him even more unsettling. Grian was also fairly sure that humans didn't have third eyelids that could maybe explain why his eyes didn't seem to dry out.

"Impulse, nice to meet you," the one with the short horns smiled.

"I'm Zedaph," the third one said, slightly distracted by pulling out a few books from under his jumper without dropping any of them.

"Did you steal those?" Grian asked.

"I'll return them. It's a library, not a bookshop," Zedaph waved off.

"It's still stealing if you don't check them out, I think," Grian tried but Zedaph didn't seem to care.

"I can't believe she banned us for a year," Tango frowned. "You, I can understand, but us?"

"Thanks," Grian said sarcastically.

"You waved her dead child's watch in front of her nose, what were you expecting?"

"I... I didn't know Avery was her child."

"Even if they were just friends, that doesn't make it any better."

Grian shrugged uncomfortably.

A streetlight they passed flickered to life for a moment before turning off again.

"Sorry," Tango mumbled under his breath.

"So, are you new in town or just new to being a Hermit?" Impulse spoke up before Grian could ask what he was apologizing for.

"Both. I came here almost three weeks ago."

"You know, most people wait a bit before they get involved in murder cases again," Impulse joked. At least Grian guessed that it was a joke. A weird one maybe, but this was Mountark. The people were weird. If not, then he'd really like to know why people kept guessing that he'd been involved with murder.

"As I said, I'm just trying to prove that my boss is innocent. I'd rather stay far away from this stuff."

"And then you joined Hermitcraft?" Zedaph said it in a joking tone, but Grian felt like it was more serious than that.

He wasn't sure how to answer.

"X asked," he finally said. "It seemed like a good offer."

'I didn't know that there was this much death involved', he didn't say. The conversation with Etho came to mind. The fact that all three of them had killed before. If Etho could be trusted.

"Obviously," Impulse said. "If it wasn't a good deal nobody would say yes."

Another street light came to life and turned off again.

Grian was fairly sure that that wasn't supposed to happen. The lamps were controlled by the heart. And from what little Grian knew about it, he was fairly sure that it wasn't supposed to fail.

"Do any of you know Redstone?" Grian asked, watching the next lamp, waiting to see if it would flash.

Tango snorted.

"We're in Mountark," he answered, gesturing around. "Who doesn't know Redstone?"

"I mean on a technical level," Grian frowned. "How it actually works."

"Oh, yeah," Zedaph nodded. "Impulse and Tango work for Hester Inc, I'm an independent mechanic."

"Independent?" Grian echoed.

"He got fired and stole Redstone on his way out," Impulse clarified.

"It's not my fault Mr Hester has no imagination," Zedaph defended.

The streetlamp flickered, just as they passed it.

"Do you know why that's happening?" Grian interrupted before any of them could say anything else, stopping.

It flickered again.

"Uh, that's my fault," Tango smiled uncomfortably.

"What do you mean? You're not doing anything."

He gestured at his eyes. "Redstone. It sends a small pulse when I blink. Don't worry about it. It doesn't mess with the lamps, really."

"How- Why are your eyes Redstone?" Grian tilted his head sideways.

"Red Death," Tango answered and began walking again. Quite literally trying to move on from the subject.

"What is that?" Grian asked following closely.

Tango sighed.

"It's just another name for Redstone, really. Just, once it's inside your body. Like through a cut or something like that. Then, it can grow inside of you, and when it was first discovered it killed a lot of people, so they named it Red Death. I got some in my eyes a few years ago, was lucky enough that it didn't spread from there."

"And it didn't kill you," Grian added.

"It's been forever since people actually died from it. Doctors learn."

Grian didn't mention the cards he'd seen in Mother's Garden.

"Thanks for the answer," he said instead.

They reached a small lift and Grian quickly apologized for getting them banned as well, before taking it up.

Mentally he checked off a few of the questions on his list.

He'd found Avery's community and family - hopefully Sibeal would be willing to talk to him at some point -, he'd found out a little bit about the killer's amulet and he'd even learned what Red Death was.

If he ignored his attempt at calling Pearl, he could almost call the whole day a success.

Grian wrapped his wings around him and buried his fingers in his feathers as the conversation he'd pushed to the back of his mind came back to him.

She probably thought he'd hung up on her.

He wanted to try again, maybe convince Mumbo or Iskall for some spare change, just to be sure he had enough time for the call, but he also had no idea what to say if he did call her back.

He started to tug at his feathers.

Maybe she wouldn't pick up again.

What if she didn't want to hear him out?

He could try to call someone else?

But who?

A sharp pain pulled him out of his thoughts and Grian flinched as his feathers ripped out of his skin.

He stared down at the bright yellow feathers in his hands and slowly managed to loosen his grip. They fluttered to the ground, landing in the dust.

Grian tried to swallow down the nausea that built in his throat.

When the lift finally arrived, its floor was covered with colourful feathers. Red, orange, green and blue. Among them small drops of blood.

A small bird landed among them and watched their owner hurry away.

It didn't follow him this time.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fanfic #zedaph #tango #impulsesv #iskall #grian #mountark mcyt au #this fish has a type writer

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whattodowithace · 3 years

Text

My Diamond in Red; The Rival’s Prize (Donghun)

Title: My Diamond in Red; The Rival’s Prize

Pairing: Donghun (A.C.E) x Reader

Genre: Action, spice, thieves AU.

Word count: 3693

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: After reviving some sweet requests for a Part II for My Diamond in Red, here it is! I hope you all enjoy! ~Ju

I zipped up my jacket as a shiver ran down my spine from the rain that was starting to fall down around our van. It hit the roof of the van with several hard splats, making it impossible to hear much of anything outside the van.

“We’re really doing this?” Changmin asked, his eyes full of excitement, but also slight hesitation due to us pulling off a robbery last minute.

I smile up at him, a slight sting on my neck reminding me of an earlier run in with a rival a few hours ago. The party had long since ended, the guests clearing out as the staff started cleaning up the mansion before getting ready to leave themselves. My black dress hung up in one corner of the van. I had changed out of my red, form fitting dress into a black outfit that hid me with the dark shadows the night casts. The only thing giving me away was the street lights and the half moon in the sky.

“We’re really doing this.” I answer, excitement filling me. “We’ll have our diamonds in just a few minutes. Once Ara is all done filling hacking into the computer system to shut it down.”

“You know this guy is a real idiot.” Ara piped up from the back of the van. “He basically asks for these diamonds to be stolen. His security system isn’t worth two cents.”

“I worry about that.” Daejung says, his voice low as he sits in the drivers seat now, his eyes scanning the rain stained road in front of him.

“He knows how expensive those diamonds are and yet his security system is poor. Why leave your defenses down like that?” He asks, glancing back at us three.

“He’s rich.” I answer him, shrugging. “He probably feels he can afford more if they ever are stolen. You saw his mansion. He had more artifacts in there than just the diamonds.”

Daejung grumbles under his breath and keeps watching the road. We had parked a few blocks away from the mansion, far enough they wouldn’t see us, but far enough we could see them.

“There’s another worry we should be thinking about.” Changmin whines. “A.C.E showed up before us. Which means they have a plan.”

I rest my head against the vans wall, my neck and thigh throbbing from encountering their leader, Donghun, earlier. My face immediately heats up when I remember his lips on mine and how strangely good it felt to be close to him. Even though we were all rivals.

Daejung looks at me, his dark eyes examining me, only making me feel warmer. I knew what he was thinking. He didn’t have to say it. He was wondering if I could complete this mission after everything that had happened. If my mind would be clear enough.

“So what if they are here?” I speak up, making all eyes fall on me. “We’ve stolen from them before and we’ll do it again. It’s no big deal.” They stay silent, as if trying to decide if I really meant my words.

“I’m fine.” I sigh, silencing their quiet doubts. “Let’s suit up. We have to leave in 10 minutes.” I say, changing the topic all together.

Ara puts our mics in our ears and any tools we may need into the several pockets littered through our dark clothing.

“The camera’s are off so they won’t see your face, but keep your hood up.” She tells us sternly, turning back to her laptop. “Also make sure you spray around the room once your inside. I don’t know if the old man wised up to turn on some kind of alarm system. And if he did you may not be able to see any laser beams that will sense your motion.”

We both nod, listening despite knowing all this. You never could get cocky in this business. We had seen too many thieves loose their freedom due to getting too smart, thinking they wouldn’t get caught. That ended in their downfall, making us vow to always be careful.

I clap my hand on Changmins shoulder, smiling widely. “You ready?”

Changmin pulls his hood over his eyes and gives me a thumbs up, a bright smile on his face. “Ready Freddie!” He beams, making me laugh. Excitement washing over me at the prize just before us.

Changmin opens the doors to the vans quickly when a loud thump comes from one of the doors hitting something.

“The living heck!” A male voice curses from behind the door. Making my heart sink. “You hit me!” Seyoon whines, rubbing his nose feverishly.

Changmin narrows his eyes at him, “Well maybe if your face wasn’t so big I wouldn’t have hit it, dummy.”

“You’re the one that opened the door like a demon was chasing you!” Another member, Jun, says from around the van.

“You shouldn’t be snooping around our van!” Ara yells, standing up from her place.

“Ara, shut up.” Daejung warns, his voice low as his eyes narrow at the members of A.C.E.

I grab the back of Changmins shirt and pull him back, “China can hear you idiots.” I snarl.

“How about you all be quiet and get in the van?” Another voice pipes up. Making my heart skid.

Donghun shoves Jun and Seyoon inside the van with us. All of us squished up along the walls as we stand inside. All of us wearing similar black outfit attire.

Donghun gave me a sideways glance, our eyes locking for a moment before he looked away. Rain water dripping down his hair and onto the floor. Making it slick.

“I hate saying this,” Donghun grumbled. “But I think we need to work together on this project.”

I hear the rest of my team scoff at the idea. “We are not pairing up with you.” Ara snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s not exactly a happy thought for us either, sweetheart.” Jun snaps back, making them both glare at each other.

“The diamonds have been moved.” Donghun announces. Making everyone turn their attention to him, shocked. I feel my own jaw go lax.

“How would you know that?” Daejung asks quietly, eyeing Donghun carefully.

“Because we were smart enough to be waiters at the party.” He snaps back. “Byeongkwan saw them move it. The old man decided he was too tired to move tonight.”

“Which means?” I ask, my chest tightening.

“The old man moved them into his bedroom. He decided to sleep in the same room as them to keep them safe.” Donghun admits.

“And i I want her to help me get the diamonds.” Donghun states boldly. Making my body heat up.

“Why?” Daejung asks, defensive.

“Because we want that diamond you stole from us.” Jun pipes up. “The one in Chicago four years ago we had until you took it.”

“And me and her can work together on this one to be faster.” Donghun added.

Donghun wasn’t just the leader. He was fast at getting in and out of tight places like this. He was fast at shutting down security and taking whatever it was someone loved most out from under them. Donghun knew how to break security. I knew how to charm someone into letting their guard down, but I also knew how to get us out of there. I memorized every possible exit and curve and dip to every heist we did in the past.

I let out a laugh, raking a hand through my hair in frustration.

“We don’t have it!” Ara yells.

“If we help you, will you stay clear of us?” I ask quietly.

Donghun stares at me, his eyes meeting mine. A gleam of sadness shines in his dark doe eyes, making me feel a twinge of guilt.

“Promise me, you will leave if I help you?” I ask him. I wasn’t addressing his crew, I wasn’t addressing mine. I was only asking him.

I wanted him to leave because no thieves could ever be together like how he wanted us. It was too dangerous. I wanted him to forget me, and me him.

“We split the diamonds, we give you back yours from four years ago, then you leave.” I tell him more sternly. Trying to keep the shake out of my voice. “Promise me?”

Donghun stares down at me, his eyes searching mine as if he would find a joke hidden behind them. But I wasn’t.

“I promise.” He says quietly, looking away from me.

~~~~

We were in. The cameras off thanks to Ara, the house quiet as its inhabitants slept peacefully unaware.

Me and Donghun stand on the balcony connected to the old mans room. Heavy rain still beating on us and drenching us the longer we stood there motionless. It was safer than walking through the front door. Which Donghun had recklessly suggested we do since cameras were off.

He grumbled as he climbed the rope up to the balcony, letting out a quiet hiss once his feet hit the concrete.

“I hate this.” Donghun whispers. Shooting me a glare as I press my back against the wall to check into the sliding glass door.

“You wanted my help.” I remind him, not meeting his eyes.

I jump when I feel warm breath on my neck, making me come face to face with him. Rain water drips down his face and onto my own.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?” He asked quietly. “About not wanting to see me again.”

I sigh and rub my temple, thankful the heavy rain drowned out our hushed voices. “Donghun, now isn’t the time.” I tell him.

“Just answer the dang question.” Donghun growls, frustration lacing his words. “Do you really not want to see me again? Because with how you kissed me back on the balcony your actions said otherwise.”

I glare at him, “I tricked you on the balcony. You could hardly stand.”

Donghun narrows his eyes at me, “You still kissed me back.” He snaps.

I stare at him a moment, my heart lurching in my chest. “Donghun, this would never work. Thieves don’t have a romantic relationship for a reason.”

Donghun’s eyes lose their fire and sadden a bit. The heavy rain only adding to his wounded look. “What if I wanted to break those rules?”

I feel my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. We had always been rivals but there was always an undeniable pull between me and Donghun. The team always teased me about having a soft spot for him, and I always denied it. But deep down, I knew they were right.

“Just get us inside.” I tell him briskly. Desperate to change the subject.

Donghun looks me over for a moment before sighing heavily and working on unlocking the door. His fingers would steadily as he slowly picks at the lock, careful not to jostle the handle too much.

A silent click is heard from over the rain, signaling we were in. Despite the tense circumstances, I couldn’t help but bite my lip in excitement. There was a thrill that came with this job, the thrill of adrenaline that pumped through you and made your fingers itch. It was a thrill we all lived for.

Donghun pushes the door open slowly, peaking inside. In the center of the room was a king sized bed with lush carpet covering the room. In the bed was a small still form. His breathing steady as soft snores escaped his mouth.

“At least the old guy sleeps soundly.” Donghun mumbles under his breath.

I let out a soft chuckle, but quickly silence it. Not wanting to joke with him as much as possible to avoid contact. Donghun slips inside first, his movements slow as the darkness of the room engulfs him. I follow close behind him.

I hold my breath slightly once inside. Even the drops of rain from our clothing that hit the carpet seemed loud. But the old mans snoring never stopped as we made our way to the glass case that held the diamonds.

I smile, thrilled to see them again. My fingers itching to touch them and show them to the rest of my team.

“We don’t have them yet.” Donghun whispers in my ear. His breath fanning against my cheek and neck.

I nod and watch the old man a moment, making sure he wasn’t awake while Donghun knelt down to disarm the alarm system inside the case. I stay silent as he works, not wanting to break his concentration. The only sound filling the room was deep breathing and soft snores from the bed and gentle rain hitting the roof and windows.

Donghun taps my leg, making me bend down to his level so he could whisper in my ear. “I can’t disarm the censor that the necklace is resting on. We need something to replace it with so the alarm won’t go off.”

I nod my head and look around the room. Looking for something not too heavy, but not too light. My eyes land on a small deceptive vase in one corner of the room. I crawl my way over to it and gently pick it up to bring it back to where Donghun was.

I hand him the vase, my job coming up. Donghuns gloved fingers brush mine, making me pull away from him quickly. He grabs my wrist, however, and intertwines our fingers together until their linked.

I feel a shiver go down my spine as Donghun leans in toward me, his face inches from mine. “I don’t think you want me to leave.” He whispers. Not bothering to hide the smirk in his voice.

I can barely make out his features in the dark but there’s enough glow from the moon outside that I can see his eyes.

“You have the worst timing.” I hiss at him, but I don’t pull my hand away from being linked with his.

“It’s just us, princess.” Donghun smirks, “You don’t have to be shy.”

“Donghun.” I warn, heat rising through my body like fire.

Donghun’s face is close enough that I can feel his breath across my lips, his nose brushing mine gently. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” He whispers.

I bite my lip to keep from making a sound as his hand pulls me closer to him. “Tell me to stop. And once this heist is over I’ll leave you alone.”

His lips trace down my neck slowly where all the bruises he had left on me earlier had formed. I let out a shaky breath into his ear, making him let out a deep growl against my neck.

“Tell me to stop, princess.” Donghun whispers, placing a small bite on my jawline.

I rest my head against his shoulder, my head spinning and my heart pounding. Donghun pulls away from my neck and rests one hand against my cheek, making me eye level with him. Our lips only centimeters apart when a loud snore from the bed behind us makes us snap out of it.

“We’ll finish this later.” I promise him, making him let out a soft whine as I stand up slowly.

The alarm on the case was off, but we needed to lift it slowly to not move the necklace and trigger the censor. Donghun takes one end of the case and I take the other as we gently lift it. I hold my breath as it comes off, and I don’t exhale until it’s placed on the floor gently.

The diamonds sparkle in the soft light, making me smile at their beauty. Donghun stands behind me as he whispers, “I don’t think the vase will stay on the stand.”

I dig in my pocket and bring out a small stick with a silver wrapper on it. “It will if you chew on this for a minute.” I tell him.

Donghun chuckles softly as he pops the chewing gum into his mouth. I examine the stand the necklace rested on carefully while he chewed. The necklace was laid across a flat surface, in the center was a circular piece that that looked like glass. It was the censor. The center piece of the necklace, being the biggest diamond that dangled from the chain, rested on it.

Donghun takes the gum from his mouth to slide it underneath the vase, ensuring it will stick. I place my hands on the necklace gently, while Donghun stands ready with the vase to replace it.

Slowly, I start sliding the necklace away from the censor. Donghun follows the necklace closely with the vase, ensuring that pressure never left the censor. We hold our breath the entire pain staking process.

After what felt like an eternity later, the necklace is in my hands. I smile gleefully down at it, Donghun’s smile matching mine.

“Guys, get out of there.” Daejung’s voice says into my earpiece, startling me.

My heart immediately drops, “What happened?” I ask.

“You must have tripped an alarm. The cops are here. Hurry up.”

I stare at Donghun, he had an earpiece on like mine and heard the conversation. “I know I turned of the alarm to the case.” Donghun says defensively.

“It wasn’t the case.” I hiss, walking over to the door and kneeling down to let my hand run down the wooden frame. My fingers land on a small object just between the door and the frame. I let out a frustrated sigh. “He had a motion censor on the door. It’s silent and calls the cops as soon as anyone opens the door.”

Donghun let’s out a hushed curse. His eyes scanning the room. “Give me the diamonds.” Donghun says, holding his hand out to me.

“Why?” I hiss, clutching them tighter to my chest.

“Just... let me take them. We’re splitting them anyway and I don’t want you running off on me with them.”

I stare at him, not trusting him. Donghun must read my thoughts because he quickly adds, “I promise I won’t take off with them. But I have to have insurance you won’t run off.”

“Guys, hurry up! The cops are bringing out the K-9 units.” Changmin whines in our ear pieces.

“Please, princess.” Donghun begs quietly. His doe eyes holding my gaze.

I let out a frustrated growl and hand him the diamonds, a gleeful smile on his lips when the diamonds touch is hand. I grab Donghun’s other free hand and pull us out the bedroom door, we couldn’t leave the same way we came in. I pull him down the hall as silently as I could, a map of the mansion pulled up in my head.

I open a door at the end of the hall that I knew to be a empty guest room. I pull him inside quickly and go over to the window. It put us directly in line with the van that was only a few blocks down. I smile and open the window quickly, seeing Jun and Seyoon jump out of the van to help us out.

Blue and red lights flash on the other side of the house. From inside, I can hear the doorbell being rung multiple times, waking up the house. I quickly swing my legs through the window and jump down, Jun catching me and steading me as I stand on shaky legs. Donghun jumps down beside me.

I quickly start for the van, Changmin opening the door for me as I run up. His eyes darting around nervously. Donghun and the others on my heels.

I just get in the van when I hear Seyoon say behind me, “Wait I minute.” I turn around to see that Donghun had handed him the necklace. “These aren’t real.”

“What?” Donghun and Jun say in unison, quickly going to look more closely at the diamonds with Seyoon. I let out a dark chuckle, making Donghun meet my eyes. His eyes wide with shock, his jaw lax.

“See you around, sweetheart.” I wink at him before slamming the van door shut, Daejung immediately throwing the van into drive and driving down the road away from the flashing lights. I look out the window to see Donghun and the others racing to their van a few blocks away. All of them looking furious. I let out a laugh as I sit down on the vans floor and rest my head against the wall. Daejung drives quickly and soon we hit the Highway.

“Did you get them?” Changmin asks excitedly. His eyes sparkling.

I chuckle and pull out the red diamond necklace from under my shirt. I had swapped it out for a fake necklace when I went to check the bedroom door for a censor. Donghun never saw it coming.

“Of course, I got them.” I smile at him, making him and Ara squeal in excitement as they take the necklace from me.

“So we don’t have to give them anything? We don’t have to split this?” Ara gushes, her hands shaking in excitement as she runs her fingers along the red stones.

I giggle and shake my head. “We never were.” I tell her.

“This is why she’s our smooth talker.” Daejung calls from the drivers seat. “She makes people let down their guard. And she did it to A.C.E twice now.”

I take a deep breath and take the necklace from Ara, examining it in the light. It really was beautiful.

“Yeah, well, that’s not the last time we’ll see A.C.E. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of them.” I say quietly, smiling to myself.

Me and Donghun couldn’t be together how he thought of us being together. But we could always be rivals in this twisted game of cat and mouse we played with each other. Fooling each other, chasing, always playing for a checkmate. The K4 and A.C.E would always be competing for the best spot as thieves. But the prospect of seeing their leader again kept me looking forward to something until we met again.

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snapetrash · 4 years

Text

so I wrote a crack fic where Snape and Harry smoke weed and talk about their problems. kinda. It’s posted on Ao3 if you want to read it there. It’s pretty ooc and an adult smokes weed and tobacco with an underage student, so there’s your warning for moral ambiguity. Starts at the beginning of book 5, in an AU where everything is the same except Harry picks up a smoking habit to self medicate his slightly crippling anxiety and depression. Looking for a Beta so let me know if you’re interested!!!

Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys had been here for weeks while he had to deal with his relatives, and fucking demetors- what a load of bollocks. Harry dumped his trunk and bags in his room and made a beeline for the attic of Grimmauld Place, grabbing his pack of menthols and lighter as he went.

They’d arrived at the Order headquarters a little after 2 am, so he knew no one would come looking for him until morning. He’d told Remus after a brief hug that he was exhausted before he’d headed to his room. Harry climbed the rickety, spiraling stairs leading to the topmost floor of Grimmauld without so much as a glance behind him.

Harry knew Sirius was in the house somewhere, and probably awake, but anxiety and anger had tied his stomach in knots. He would go see his godfather after his smoke. After. Everything had to come after he’d had a moment to himself, or he’d blow up and regret everything.

As he struggled to wrench open the window, he briefly considered smoking inside, smell and lingering smoke bedamned, but as the thought crossed his mind the window gave a little shriek and popped open. Harry crawled out onto the dirty shingles and moved to sit beside the window, looking out onto the backyard of the house.

He opened his pack, pulled out a joint and popped it in his mouth, lighting up and taking a deep, fortifying breath. Harry’s eyes fell closed as he inhaled deeply, pulling in air after his hit and exhaling, long and measured. As he went to take another hit, he opened the pack of cigarettes one more time to retrieve a menthol and tuck it behind his ear, for later. His hair was such a mess that it covered the white of the paper completely, and kept the fug from prying eyes. It wouldn’t be fun if he was caught and chewed out by Mrs. Weasley for smoking.

The sky was dark and overcast, sounds of the city muffled by the powerful wards on the house. It was a fairly hot night, temperature perfect for Harry and his penchant for being chilly in all seasons. After three or four hits he could feel the tension bleed from his body, finally making way for bone deep exhaustion.

“ Potter, what on earth-” If Harry hadn’t been halfway through his joint, he would’ve startled at the sound of Snape’s irritated growl coming from the window beside him. But he’d been awake for more than 24 hours, and hadn’t had a decent meal for just as long. The energy to care about being caught smoking on a roof by his professor? He just didn’t have it at the moment.

“Are you smoking pot?” The utter incredulity in the Potion Master’s voice prompted Harry to actually turn and look at the other man. Snape was leaning out the window, arms braced on the sil with his wand in a relatively loose grip. He was wearing what looked like a long sleeve tee and worn sweatpants- both black of course- but surprisingly muggle. It made the older man look softer, younger; the small part of Harry’s brain that hadn’t checked out the moment he lit up was shocked at how Snape looked, even as he glared at him.

There were other things Harry noticed about him too; his paler-than-usual pallor, the way his body seemed wound tight like a spring and the heavy-lidded exhaustion in his eyes. Snape wasn’t staring him down, not like usual. No, he seemed like maybe he’d come for a bit of solitude too. In fact, when Harry’s gaze flicked down to the potion master’s hands he saw a wooden pipe, shiny and black just like the rest of him, clutched in his non-wand hand.

It was 2 am and everyone else in the house was probably in bed. Harry realized he’d been staring, not answering, and Snape was looking tenser and moodier by the second.

“Are you wearing pajamas?” He blurted out, immediately regretting everything. Fuck, he was gonna get so many detentions. But Snape was wearing pajamas, it was beyond strange, and Harry had gone ahead and said the first thing that’d come to his mind like a complete idiot.

Snape gave him a look of utter loathing, like he was thinking the exact same thing. Harry couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under his eyes, and again did something incredibly stupid. Marijuana in the wizarding world didn’t hold the same weight as it did for muggles, but still. He was sure there was a rule written somewhere that said ‘thou shalt not smoke cannabis with thy potions master.’ or something.

Harry offered him the joint wordlessly. It was quite a normal gesture, in general terms; Snape stared at the offending apparatus in what seemed like numb shock, his eyes a little wide, his mouth drawn down into a tight line. It hung in the air between them, and just as Harry thought that maybe he really was going to die at the hands of his teacher that hated him, the older wizard reached out and plucked the burning thing from his fingers.

The moment Snape took it, instead of watching him(his fucking professor!) Harry grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it up, just to have something to do with his hands. He looked up just in time to see Snape exhale a fat cloud of smoke and look at the joint with a thoughtful expression. After a moment they swapped; Snape had the cigarette and Harry had the joint.

The younger wizard watched the other inhale and grimace, before his professor quietly muttered. “Of course you would smoke this muggle menthol crap.”

Harry snorted. “You certainly aren’t the first one to give me shit for it.”

This was probably the quietest, nicest moment he’d ever had in Snape’s presence. Who knew all it took was a little weed to win over the nasty dungeon bat? Harry had to force a cough, lest he giggle at the thought.

The deserted city before them had infected both wizards with a sense of calm; no nightmares, or oaths or dark lords could reach them here. When Harry saw the joint going down, he pulled out another and put the other out in seamless rotation. Snape made a soft noise that might’ve been a scoff, but otherwise said nothing and took a long drag of the new joint.

Neither man knew how they’d stumbled upon this fragile peace, but they weren’t going to go out of their way to break it now. Still, Harry couldn’t resist pushing his luck.

“I keep waiting to wake up from this bizarre dream, but it hasn’t happened yet.” He muttered with humor.

Snape side-eyed him, blowing a bit of smoke out before fucking smirking “Why does it matter? No one would believe you if you told them about this.”

That had Harry fighting back horrified laughter, coughing a little on the smoke caught in his throat, because this was another level and who knew his evil git of a teacher could be so devious? In a funny way, not his usual ‘Potter, detention for breathing’ way. Stealing a glance at Snape, he saw that he’d relaxed a lot more. He had an elbow on the sill, his chin propped up in his hand- and a little quirk on his lips that was almost a smile.

This side of Snape was completely new to Harry; but he vowed silently to himself that he’d try to draw it out as often as he could. Clearly the guy was under a lot of pressure, playing for both sides. Maybe he was a completely different person, outside of all the acting and playing the field he had to do.

“You’re different, like this.” Harry’s brain to mouth filter had said sayonara at this point; the small part of his mind that was rational, and screaming at him to ‘shut up, Potter, you utter wanker’ was drowned out by his high and the strange night.

“I know we have to keep hating each other- keep up appearances, I mean- um. But I wouldn’t mind doing this again. I just- I’ve been realizing how much you do for the war, for me and I- You’re not a bad guy at all, is what I might be saying. Who knows, I’m stoned. Ignore me.” Please, Harry, shut the fuck up now.

Snape’s burning gaze bore holes into his forehead as he hurriedly stuck his fug in his mouth to silence himself. The younger wizard didn’t take his eyes off his own hands, cheeks burning, waiting for the end.

“Why in Merlin’s name would you want to spend any more time with me than you have to? It’s not like I haven’t given you every reason to hate me that I could think of.” The older man replied, and oh god, both of them were way too tired and totally not sober enough to have this kind of conversation. If they were sober they would never have it in the first place.

Harry didn’t say anything for a while, not sure how to respond. “Well it’s not like I didn’t figure that out eventually- and you’re one of the few people in this entire, fucked up secret society that treats me like a normal person. From everyone else it’s either hero worship, pity, or they hate me for shite I can’t control.” He paused and took another drag of his cigarette. “Or they expect me to be a carbon copy of my dad. I guess you also did that for a while too, but you have to keep up appearances for the all the kids reporting back to their death eater parents.”

Snape turned his eyes on Harry again, showing a myriad of emotions across his face, all hard to decipher. He seemed almost angry. “Don’t be daft. I publicly humiliate you whenever I have the chance. I’m not a nice man, it wasn’t always an act!”

“Well you just admitted that it’s an act now! Why are you so afraid to admit you like me, professor?” That shut Snape up pretty effectively, because all he did was relight the joint that had gone out in his hands.

Harry sighed, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his head on his knees, facing Snape. “You’ve always reminded me of my muggle teachers in elementary, kind of. The ones that knew from speaking to Petunia that I was a delinquent, but were still determined to teach me. It gave me a sense of normalcy amongst all the magic, in a place where suddenly I was popular and sought after for a glorified tragedy I don’t even remember. I dunno.” he laughed bitterly, remembering his first year. The months after his letter came, wondering if he’d go to sleep after classes that night and wake up in the cupboard.

Snape looked very tired, as if every word Harry spoke took what little energy he had left. “You’re not anything like your father was, as your age. How could you be, you’ve never met the man.” He mumbled the last sentence, but Harry heard it anyway.

“Exactly! You understand. Fuck.” The teenager took a shaking breath, and then the joint when Snape passed it to him. They fumbled for a second when he nearly dropped it, hands brushing in the dark, but it made its way into Harry’s shaking hands and he hit it once, with feeling.

After a few minutes of silence in which they finished the second joint, and Snape lit his pipe(which to Harry’s surprise) actually had weed in it. They passed it back and forth for a little while longer.

“Albus wants me to teach you Legilimency this year. You’ll come to my office once a week after class, and call it remedial potions when anyone asks.”

“Cool, we’ll be able to hang out more without anyone around to ruin it.” Harry replied absently. When he realized that he’d just indicated, verbally, that he’d enjoy hanging out with Snape(and his mind was really blown at that one) he looked up to see Snape staring at him with his eyebrow raised, a picture of unimpressed.

“You realize you’re going to actually have to learn to be a Legilimens, right Potter?”

“Oh yeah. It might just be the weed, but I’m feeling much better about it now than I would’ve if we hadn’t had this conversation.” The teen replied with good humor. It was true; he was feeling much better about Snape in general. Harry remembered how much of a hardass his professor was, and was quick to reassure him. “I’ll do my best to learn all I can from you.”

Snape’s face softened a little. “See that you do, Potter.” He straightened, Placing his pipe in his pocket and pulling himself back into the attic. The older man reached a hand out for Harry to help him inside. “Come now. It’s bedtime for wizarding saviors.”

Harry smiled, caught the larger, rougher hand in his own and allowed himself to be lightly manhandled back into the attic. He felt beyond tired. When he stumbled on the stairs, Snape dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder and left it there.

“To the kitchen first, I have a vial of dreamless sleep for you.” Snape said quietly. The younger man grunted a wordless acknowledgement and they made their way together through the house. The potions master beelined to a high cabinet in the corner and pulled out two small bottles, uncorking one and downing it and passing the other to Harry.

“Thanks, professor. Good night.”

“Goodnight, Potter.” Snape was rewarded with a blinding smile as Harry made his way upstairs. He went to his room, and fell asleep quicker than he’d had in years.

#severitus #ooc characters #crack treated seriously #crack fic

40 notes · View notes

ripspaghet · 4 years

Text

bff | 04

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,750

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing

The bell overhead chimes as the doors open, making Seokjin's mouth finally clamp shut before another word can make you slam your head into the register. Your shift had only begun and he was already on a roll about being forced to clean the toilets earlier.

"Welcome to Sil's Coffee, how may we help you?" The slogan fell off your lips like a sigh of relief as you plaster on a bright smile for the customer, coming in from the frigid outside air.

A chuckle erupts from the customer, "I see Seokjin is harassing you again."

"W-What?! I do not-"

"I'd like an iced mocha with caramel. Could you fetch that for me Jin?" Mina slides into the bar chair in front of Seokjin, who bites his tongue before turning around to make her order. The man may loathe his job, but there was no way he'd allow himself to be fired.

"Honestly, just tell him to shut up. You don't have to listen to his whining."

You can hear Seokjin muttering inaudible profanities at Mina and you let out an actual sigh this time, "Seokjin is just expressing himself."

"And this is the best way he knows how? How sad."

"You're coffee." You flinch as a cup is slammed onto the counter and slid into Mina's hands.

"Thanks, handsome." She grins endearingly up at him.

"Can you leave now?"

"Oh, how rude of you to say to a customer. I wonder what the manager would say?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "Mina, stop, for fuck sake." Seokjin is presumably the only person who dislikes Mina more than Jimin, although Mina doesn't dislike Seokjin. She actually likes him, despite his constant rambling.

Another chime grabs everyone but Mina's attention back to the entrance to see your stumbling yellow-haired friend enter the shop. He swore as he tripped on the entrance's floor-mate, but quickly composed himself and looked up to send you a dazzling smile before gracefully making his way over the seat in front of you, "Good morning, my ray of sunshine." You open your mouth to return the gesture just before someone else strides in behind him. Dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin sporting a baggy tee and flannel with tight frayed jeans. You grimace at the sight. Of course, he was here. Why wouldn't he be? Mina was here and wherever Mina was, he had the right to be.

"Couldn't you have done us all a favor and let yourself fall?"

"Like I'd ever do a favor for the likes of you." Jimin retorted swiveling around in his chair.

It's been exactly three weeks since your first session with Yoongi began and you still haven't grown comfortable with the whole ordeal. Especially since Yoongi had all of a sudden started making an effort to include himself in Mina's life more, resulting in him almost always being around. Which is great for Mina, just not so great for you.

"Anyways, how is my love doing?" Jimin reached out for your hands and smiled at you in a way that made it impossible for you to not return the gesture.

"I'm alright." You squeezed his hands reassuringly before pulling away to make his usual drink. At least you had Jimin most of the time. He did a great job of pulling your attention off of the guy just a few feet away from you and settling your nerves.

"I heard how Namjoon left you high and dry. Taehyung has been dogging me for studying material ever since. Is your project coming along alright? I can help you with it?" You tense as you begin pouring the chocolate syrup into Jimin's drink. Maybe you'd spoken too soon again? You hadn't told anyone about studying with Yoongi, out of fear of what Mina would do and judging from the lack of passive aggression coming from her, Yoongi hadn't said anything either.

"N-no, I've got it. You don't need to do that."

"She'd fail for sure if you helped her."

"Mina, nobody was talking to you. Can you shut that trap of yours?" You turn back around and place Jimin's cup in front of him just as Mina reaches over to whack him on the back of the head.

"Yah! Don't you touch me, you witch!"

"Me? A witch?" Mina laughed, "Well, that must make you a troll."

"Mina, stop that." Yoongi's cold metallic voice caught you off guard and you made the mistake of shifting your gaze over to him just as Mina began whining, merely to see he was already watching you, his brown eyes intense and dark.

Things have been very awkward, for you to say the least. You didn't know what to make of this new relationship you had with Yoongi. Hell, even calling it a relationship felt weird and from every angle, it just seemed wrong. When you so much as looked in Yoongi's direction you felt like you'd just transgressed some imaginary line you'd drawn for yourself. Or maybe it had been drawn by Mina. It was normal for the girl to be possessive and paranoid, even more so when it came to a guy she liked. Mina had been friends with a girl in the past that had stolen guys from her left and right, so now she always assumed you, one of her few female friends, was always plotting against her and knowing this made you extremely cautious.

"You two have been extra snarky this week."

You cleared your throat, trying your best to not seem uncomfortable, "Would you like something to drink, Yoongi?"

"A black coffee would be nice."

You nodded, turning again only to have Seokjin place a black coffee in your hands, "I figured he'd order that again, so I went ahead and made it."

"Oh, here," You slid the drink over to Yoongi, sure to avoid eye contact this time.

"Well, with ____ spending all her time studying lately, I'm left alone to deal with this nuisance." Mina jabbed her finger at Jimin.

"What? I'm the nuisance and yet you're the one constantly complaining about this and that and never shutting up?"

"Shut your mouth Park." Mina flushes red as Yoongi turns his head over, suddenly taking interest in their conversation.

Jimin scoffs and turns back to you, "So, can I hear it?"

"Huh?" You tilted your head.

"Namjoon told me about it, don't be coy. I wanna hear it."

Your cheeks flush at the realization of what he was talking about, "He did what?! No way. I'm not letting you hear anything."

"What are we talking about?"

"We," Jimin looking back at Mina, pointing at her and then himself, "aren't talking about anything. Me and ____ are." Mina scoffs and turns away from him as he does the same, overeating his attention back on you, "My best friend won't let me hear her sing?"

"What best friend? Last I checked you have no friends." Mina mumbles under her breath, rolling her eyes at Jimin's pouting lips while sipping her drink. He scowls but is quick to ignore her in favor of you.

Damn, they really are at each other's necks right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I know you're good. Namjoon said your voice is amazing. In fact, he gushed about it."

"Stop rambling and leave me and my voice alone, Park Jimin."

"You cutie, you're all red, like a tomato." He reaches up to pinches at your cheek but you quickly swat his hands away.

"Shut up."

"Let me hear it and I'll shut up for the rest of my life, just for you."

"No." You turn away from him to busy yourself with work, emphasizing your seriousness. There was no way in hell you'd ever let Jimin, or anyone else for that matter, hear you sing. Sure, Namjoon and Yoongi had heard it, but- your gaze drifted over to Yoongi again to see a small smirk playing on his lips as he stirred his coffee.

"God, you two make me wanna vomit. I can't believe you refuse to admit your dating each other." Seokjin finally spoke again as he wiped down the counter-tops.

"Seriously, get a room," Mina adds.

"Says the two who bicker at each other like a married couple," Jimin smirked over at Mina, who just about spit her coffee out her nose.

"What?!"

"We do not!"

Message from Min Yoongi- 8:11am: The door is unlocked. Just come in when you get up here.

After work, you stalled around a bit before heading towards Yoongi's. You knew if you left right after your shift, Jimin would've tried to tag along. He normally walked you home when he got the chance and as far as he knew you'd been going home every week to work on your project alone.

Your stomach turns as the elevator finally comes to a halt, the doors sliding open, and you step out. More than anyone else, you wanted to tell Jimin about this. You knew he'd have the best advice for you, but you also realize that Jimin hates Mina. He would probably let the information slip on purpose just to piss her off. He'd prefer not to be friends with her because, in his opinion, she's faker than all the plants in his dance teacher's office. You don't doubt he'd take any chance he could to try and show you that, probably saying something along the lines of, "It's for your own good, trust me."

Honestly, you're starting to get pretty sick of this. All the elevator rides you've had to endure are almost as bad as riding an airplane, never knowing if it's going to give out or just break and send you to a gruesome death. You head for Yoongi's door, sending a glare back at the box of threatening death as it's doors slide shut again. You've tried to convince Yoongi on countless occasions to meet elsewhere, but he declines each time, saying, "Why would I go somewhere else when I'm most comfortable here?" You roll your eyes at the memory. That self-centered jerk doesn't care what you put yourself through every week to get to here. Making sure none of your friends, especially Mina, see where you're going, facing your fear of that dumb elevator while doing so, and lying practically to Jimin. Mina would assume you're sleeping with Yoongi if she ever found out. It wouldn't matter what you told her. And imagine if she did find out, even after all your efforts? Every week you had to put up with Min Yoongi's self-centered attitude and constant complaints about how you're, "Too early." Or, "Too late." Not to mention you've been feeling under the weather lately.

One of these days you're really gonna to jump from one of the windows on this floor just to escape from Min Yoongi, because at this point it feels like there is no escape. You go to school, he's there with Mina. You go to work, he shows up with Mina. What did you have in life, if not peace away from that guy?

You give the front door two gentle taps before entering. The penthouse was the same as always, warm and quiet, as the world outside opposed it. It was probably the only thing you enjoyed when meeting with Yoongi, the quiet, something you normally got so little of.

"Back here!"

You jump, whirling in a full circle before figuring out where the voice came from. You follow it down a hallway and to a room. Little decoration fills the room and it's relatively empty, except for a grand piano occupying the center.

"I figured we could transfer your cords into a melody on the piano to place at the deeper parts of the song. I have a feeling it will sound good with your voice."

Your breath catches in your throat, your wide-eyed stare never leaving the piano Yoongi is sat at, as he writes, what assumed to be, notes onto a piece of paper.

"Come sit, " He gestures you over, still not looking at you. Your feet feel like they've rooted themselves to the floor and it takes all of your strength just to do as he says and bring yourself to the piano, trying your best to ignore the way your heart stills as you sit down next to Yoongi, a sharp fear piercing through you like cold wind.

"You play?" Your voice comes out dry as your eyes linger on ivory keys.

"Yeah, I learned when I was little." Yoongi finally brought his gaze over to you to watch as you lightly move your fingertips up and over the keys, "Do you?"

You frown and pull your hand away from the piano, "No."

Yoongi hums and places his fingers onto the keys before playing the first few notes of your song, "That's too bad. This would be a lot easier if you did."

"Well, I don't." You sneer at the sound of your song coming from the piano and stand back up, realizing that this had been a horrible idea, "Listen, I'm not feeling up for this today. I'm gonna go." Your mind was beginning to cloud with distraught memories and all you could focus on was getting away from the piano as you stood up. You weren't fast enough though.

Yoongi stood up after you, following you out of the room, "Is everything alright?"

"I just want to go home."

His pace quickened as you approach the front door and he was in front of you before you could reach it, "Do you not like the piano idea?"

You glare at him, "The idea is fine, I just want to go home, as I said."

His eyes dart all across your face as if he's still trying to read you, to understand what had set you off.

"I'll be going now." You attempt to sidestep him, only to be abruptly cut off by Yoongi placing a hand to your forehead, "W-what are you-"

"You look really pale, I don't think you should-Woah," He steps back out of shock after feeling your temperature, "you're burning up."

"I'm fine, just let me-"

"____," Yoongi's eyes narrow on you, his voice dropping a couple octaves, "go sit on the couch and I'll get you some medicine."

You hesitate for only a moment before giving in, "Fine, whatever." You stomp away from him, over to the couch before plopping down onto it. Admittedly, your head was starting to pound and you couldn't deny the cold sweat that was beginning to settle in along with the aching of your whole body. It'd be just your luck that you'd caught the flu or something, only to start showing symptoms after arriving at Yoongi's, of all places. You'd honestly prefer being at Jimin's house right about now and he'd probably be smothering you right about now. You should've just canceled today and walked home with Jimin.

"Here, take this." Yoongi returns within a few minutes, crouching down in front of you before placing a pill in one of your hands and a glass of water in the other, "This should reduce your fever."

"And how am I suppose to trust that you're not drugging me?" You raise an eyebrow at him accusingly, but he just gives you a skeptical look.

"It's ibuprofen, ____."

You watch him hesitantly, before plopping the pill into your mouth, and tilting your head back to drink the glass of water. You hadn't expected yourself to drink the whole thing, but you did, and rather quickly.

Yoongi takes the glass from you and places it on the coffee table behind him, "Are you hungry?"

"I really don't-" You're cut off by the sound of your treacherous stomach growling at the mention of food.

"I'll make soup." Yoongi gets up again, heading back to the kitchen before you get the chance to protest further than you already have. Your head is starting to spin and you have to lay down just to keep yourself from running to the bathroom to vomit. No way would you be caught dead throwing up in Min Yoongi's bathroom. You'd jump from a window before that happens. You close your eyes, waiting patiently for Yoongi to return with food. You hadn't even noticed yourself drifting off.

The ground beneath is dry, altered to a sandy substance. Dull silence replaces loud screeching alarms, and instead of hazy darkness, something else lurks amongst the unknown. The difference between now and then is an odd sense of familiarity tugging at your heart. You know all too well what this nostalgia is, but you refuse to move towards it. The mere memories are enough to coax out inner demons dwelling behind your walls. A place you once called home.

“It's unnecessary, ____.”

A harsh memory, filled with a harsher smell of gin and gasoline forces itself forward. One of those memories a child prefers to suppress, yearning to someday forget it...pretend it never happened. Although, bad memories die-hard, just as bad habits do and the specific way that man had always held onto second agendas and gave everything a double standard was etched into your mind. You can never seem to escape him, no matter how hard you try.

Especially here.

Such a strange feeling it gave you. Do others feel this? A looming dark hole in the cradle of their heart, remaining, even if eventually, and inevitably, a change comes. A childlike intuition told you how it was fated, as it was for a reason beyond your knowing that the place you once called your home would burn, that - that man's eyes would close and the smell of gin and gasoline would fade into something much more horrendous, along with that godforsaken piano. And then, and only then, you would realize that home never truly felt like home.

"____?"

And him, that damned voice will only further remind you of that misery and loss.

"Wake up, it's just a dream."

Mark my words.

"____," You whimper at the feeling of someone's hand against your cheek and you lean into it, "what's wrong?"

Your eyes open slowly and it's only then that you realize the wet tears running down your cheeks, "W-what?"

"Why are you crying?" You look up, seeing Yoongi's dark worried eye on you as he wipes away your tears with his thumb.

You sit up slowly, your head still spinning and skin still aflame with a fever, "I-I don't remember."

"Here," Yoongi moves an arm under your legs and to your back before hoisting you up.

"W-what are you doing?! Put me down!" You have no strength to fight against him in your current state, but that doesn't stop you from yelling at him.

"I'm moving you somewhere comfortable, be quiet." He walks out of the living room and back down the hallway that had previously brought you to the piano room, only this time he walks passed that room and into another at the end of the hallway. He sits you down on a bed and covers you with a blanket, "I'll go heat up the soup, and once you're done eating you should get some more sleep."

You only nod and watch as Yoongi leaves the room before pushing the covers off of you and standing back up. You make your way over to the door and back down the hall, only briefly stopping to leer into the piano room. You'd have to make up an excuse later to leave the piano out of your song. There's no way you'll be able to stomach hearing the sound of it every time you work on the piece. Once you make it to the front door you're quick to exit, despite hearing Yoongi's footsteps exiting the kitchen at the same time. You don't care all too much if he sees you leaving, you just need to leave. Sure, your head is spinning and your joints ach, but letting Yoongi take care of you while sick is crossing that line that had been laid down.

While in the elevator you have to sit on the floor and pray to reach the bottom soon. The motion of moving down is only making you all the more nauseous, so when the doors finally open you're surprised to see that the sun has already set, despite you showing up here early this morning. Had you really slept that long? Yoongi must've had his curtains closed. You stand back up and your stomach growls in anger as you make your way out of the building. You really were hungry, to the point that it feels like your stomach is digesting itself, but you're desperate to get away. You don't want any misunderstandings.

"Madam, may I assist you in finding a-"

You cut off the doorman, turning in the direction of your apartment, "I'm fine."

"Miss, the streets are dangerous at this time of-"

"I'll be fine, Jackson. Good night." You ignore the polite man's pleas for you to let him help you and continue down the street and away from him. You have no money for a taxi or uber and you aren't going to let someone else, you barely know, pay for you. The last thing you need is to owe someone or make them think you're poor, not that you aren't, due to college debt, but that's beside the point.

"Woah, look what we've got ourselves here." A group of burly looking men walk around the corner of an alleyway just as you're about to pass it and your expression turns sour. Of all the nights.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out so late?" There's four of then, but only the tallest of the bunch is quick to close the distance between the two of you.

"I don't think that's any of your damn business." You glare up at him, attempt to regulate your breathing. Your fever is making you feel like you're extremely out of shape so that just the smallest amount of walking you've done so far had you almost breathless.

"Oh! A feisty one!" A disgusting grin pulls up the man's cheeks as he laughs at your bold response.

"Get out of my way." You wave your hand at him, trying to move around his broad shoulders only for another one of the guys to come up beside him, blocking your way.

"No, I think you should stay and hang out with us for a while."

You huff and run the back of your hand across your forehead, nonchalantly whipping away the sweat to try and hide how weak you actually felt before letting a fake smile pull up your lips, "Oh, yeah?"

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out you're darting across the empty street.

Yes, you felt like shit, but that didn't mean you were gonna give up without a fight. The group of men yells after you, taken by surprise and you can hear their heavy feet scurrying after you. Thankfully, you're fast enough that once you've made it across the street you can start towards the nearest convenience store. Thinking you're about to be home free, your heart races with anticipation only to sink down in terror a second later as a hand yanks you into an alleyway way and covers your mouth, muffling your scream. You thrash and kick, panic shocking your body like electricity.

"Stand still, ____. You're going to break my nose." The whisper has you stilling in the person's arms.

"Yoon-"

"Shut up!" He whispers yells, covering your mouth again.

"Damn it! Where did she go!?"

"I almost caught her."

"No, you fucking didn't! You were behind all of us, you idiot !"

You freeze and sink further into the person's arms out of seer terror as the four men pass the alleyway you're hiding in.

"When I find that bitch, she's gonna wish she never ran."

The grip around you tightens in an almost protective sort of way. The feeling comforts you, but tears still begin welling up in your eyes before the group of men finally carries on down the cold streets. Once they're out of hearing range the hand over your mouth moves and you're turned around to face none other than Min Yoongi.

He eyes you up and down, concern evident in his features, "Are you alright?"

You can only imagine how not alright you look, cheeks red from the cold, eyes glassy from fear, after having your adrenaline wear off. You probably look like a complete mess, but you still manage to nod in response to his question.

"Are you stupid? What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay because you weren't feeling well and now look what you've gone and gotten yourself into. Why couldn't you just listen to me? Something could've happened. What if I didn't followed you?"

You stare up at Yoongi, trying to listen to what he's saying and gripping his arms tightly to keep yourself upright as a loud thumping began echoing in your ears, everything around you starting to spin, "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"____?"

You fall, losing your grip on Yoongi as all your strength leaves your body, and you faint.

You groan and stretch, your eyes slowly opening. The light shining in through your window burns your retinas.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you were dead."

"Huh?" You look over, next to your bed to see Jimin sitting there with a tray of breakfast in his lap.

"How-What are you doing here?" You croak.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, "You don't remember? You must have felt pretty bad."

"Jimin, " You cough, trying to sit up, and he's quick to help you, "what are you talking about?"

"You texted me last night that you felt really sick and needed help. I was surprised at first, but once I got here I understood that you weren't kidding. You were tossing and turning in bed and sweating as if you'd just ran for hundreds of miles."

You frown, trying to recall your memories from last night.

"Are you alright?" Jimin rubs your back soothingly.

"I-I'm fine." Your voice squeaks as you push Jimin's hand off you.

He raises an eyebrow at you again, your reaction surprising him, but drops it, figuring it's probably because you're sick, "Well, here's your breakfast. I'm going down to the cafeteria to get you some water. Call me or text me if anything happens or if you need something, okay?"

"O-okay, " You take the tray of food from him and he nods before getting up and leaving. You look around your room, briefly glancing over at your roommate's bed. Hopefully, she'd been out all night and hadn't seen anything.

You jump as your phone starts ringing, your tray of food nearly flying up in the air. You quickly grab your phone, accepting the call without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hm, you sound a lot better today. How are you feeling?"

The sudden sound of his voice has your whole face heating up and your stomach flipping over in an unexplained manner, "Y-Yah! Why are you calling?! What do you want?!"

"What are you being rude for? Didn't I save your life?"

You scoff, "I would've been perfectly fine without your help. I had a plan."

"Oh, really?" He asks sarcastically, "And what was that? Run until you collapse from exhaustion?"

"I-I don't need to explain myself to you!"

"Right, it's not like I had to drag you all the way to your dorm last night, because you refused to listen to me, or anything."

"I didn't ask for your help!"

"Well, since you seem to be fine now and you don't need my help, I'll hang up." His voice is condescending and mocking. The sound of it makes your blood boil and you can't help but respond with malice.

"Fine! Hang up!"

"Try not to go running down the street in the middle of the night again, yeah?"

"I'll do whatever I want!"

His laughter fills your phone's speaker and you found yourself turning even redder, "I'm sure you will, ____, seeing as you do that and nothing else."

"I'm hanging up!"

"Alright, "

"Shut up!" You pull your phone away from your ear swiftly and end the call. You huff and throw your phone to the end of your bed. You can't understand why you'd just been so childish. He had helped you. Why did you respond so absurdly? You could feel something burning inside your chest, the feeling of it was making you irrational. You run your hands through your hair distress-fully and whine, "What's wrong with me?"