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taechaos · 3 years

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Web of Lies

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying.

warnings: angst, panic attack, dry humping, the TINIEST bit of fluff

word count: 4.3k

Obstacles are inevitable in relationships; there’s always something that must go wrong. They can come in the form of arguments, disagreements, actions, or people like Taehyung. One physical obstacle that always knows when Jungkook is with you.

A few days after the fight between the two close friends, Taehyung’s nose somewhat healed and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from you as frequently. What’s the point when the people he tried to hide you from found out about his relationship with you anyway? The only reason he doesn’t approach you every time he sees you is because: 1. He doesn’t enjoy being clingy; that would mean he likes being around you all the time which he refuses to admit. 2. You would probably get tired of him and stop loving him. 3. He kissed your friend who always sits next to you outside.

Now that he’s taking most of his opportunities to talk to you, and maybe kiss you, Taehyung is growing restless. Every time Jungkook is with you, so is Taehyung. Some. Fucking. How.

To name one of the busts: when Jungkook was kissing you in the university’s hallway two days ago, Taehyung popped in out of nowhere and shouted, “Get a room, you sluts!” It made for a good laugh between the students, especially when Jungkook ran after him out of the building.

Another time is when Jungkook was watching you work in the yard and Taehyung joined you two to ask about that “one hot friend of yours”. You ended up telling him about Soyeon and Minnie while Jungkook glared at Taehyung that conveyed a clear message: Don’t. So, he didn’t. It didn’t have anything to do with getting elbowed when you weren’t looking.

It was because that would ruin the fun, and he has a sense of purpose while roaming the entire campus to make his fourth bust of the week. He’s searched the hot and empty spots, but he just can’t find the passionate couple anywhere. If he can’t keep disrupting their displays of affection, how will Jungkook get annoyed enough to spill the truth to you? You deserve that much, and if you still accept him, then Taehyung’s out of the picture.

Why can’t Jungkook see that?

For starters, one of the reasons is Jungkook is distracted and growing very irritated by the heavy stare he feels digging into his skin. Who the fuck is watching him? He thought it would be nice to keep you company in the main campus library by controlling your hand under the table over his clothed erection while you skim through your textbook for a light revision, but a pair of eyes behind a bookshelf won’t stop glaring into his soul through thick frames that he can’t see.

He blows out a breath and screws his eyes shut. His jaw clenches and you immediately catch on, worriedly asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s fucking watching me and I can’t get off,” he grits. Your cheeks heat and grow crimson when you glance down at your occupied hand, palmed by his bigger one in a tight grip.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “we can go to my dorm, if you’d like? Whatever you want.” In an act of comfort, you stupidly start caressing his length until he stands up.

“Gotta confront the fucker.”

Right when he raises his foot to take a step in the direction that his senses lead him to, Taehyung joins in on the mission. “Who are we confronting?” he asks casually with an arm over Soyeon’s shoulder, who is trying to suppress a grimace at the intervention. Jungkook glances at him and then your friend before sucking his teeth and rolling his eyes.

You grin brightly at the greeting and explain, “Someone's watching him. He’s going to find the stalker.”

“Might’ve been me, oops,” Taehyung raises his brows guiltily before slumping on a wooden chair adjacent to you, looking around the spacious area that makes him feel too loud. When he notices Soyeon still standing, he tells her, “come, sit,” and pats the seat next to him. She does so timidly. “Isn’t it so wonderful—”

“Why are you here?” Jungkook interrupts, but Taehyung continues, “—that we’re forming a friend group of our own? We’re all so familiar with each other.”

“Oh, Soyeon hasn’t met Jungkook yet.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you with a scrunch of his nose. “Sure about that?” Jungkook strides behind his chair and starts massaging his shoulders; a very harsh massage that has him holding back a wince. “Oh, Kook, that’s a bit rough. Tell me, is he like this in bed too?”

You gape at him in surprise, bashful because your lover doesn’t kiss and tell, and he doesn’t look too happy about it either.

“Tae…” Jungkook snarls.

“Well, is he, Soyeon?”

The library’s silence graces your table as everyone falls quiet, if you don’t count Taehyung’s groans at Jungkook’s bruising hold that is. Soyeon’s jaw drops and her eyes widen at the sudden switch in your gaze, searching for answers from her. “That’s not funny, Taehyung,” she breaks the silence with her blunt statement.

“Don’t mind him, baby, he has brain damage,” Jungkook spits and brings a hand up to Taehyung’s hair to yank it back. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he whispers in his ear.

Your features begin to soften from its hard expression until Taehyung smiles wickedly at you. “Oh yeah, it wasn’t sex, was it? It was a tongue battle-” His voice cuts off the moment Jungkook starts choking him with his elbow, and his gags fall on deaf ears. Soyeon tries to push him off, but you’re just blank because Jungkook isn’t denying it; it was as if he was expecting it, trying to stop him all along.

The sudden interest in your friend, the constant interruptions, the hits…

“Soyeon?” you call quietly with welling up tears. “Did you kiss him?”

Your best friend doesn’t lie, and apparently neither does Taehyung. Does Jungkook lie? You’re conflicted between living in bliss, ignoring the dying man in front of you because your boyfriend might have kissed Soyeon, and facing reality by asking the hard questions.

Her hands are still tugging on his shirt to save Taehyung, but her persistence weakens when she looks at you: guilty and… exposed? “I didn’t know it was him,” she confesses. It is indirect, and doesn’t reveal much except that she kissed the one man she wasn’t supposed to.

“When?”

“The party,” Taehyung wheezes as he struggles against Jungkook’s arm, his nails drawing blood on his skin. His face is red from the lack of oxygen but he isn’t worried about dying.

“Oh, he put you up to this, didn’t he?” Jungkook speaks through clenched teeth to Soyeon. “They’re setting me up, and who the fuck is watching me?!”

You stand up slowly and close your textbook with a soft thud, packing your materials so graciously. Your hands are shaking, but the tears blurring your vision don’t matter to you. Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. You sling your bag over your shoulder and trudge to the exit, counting your steps to calm down. You ignore Jungkook asking you where you’re going, Taehyung gasping for breath, and Soyeon telling him to leave you alone. It’s all muffled and you’re too sad to care.

It’s a case of he said she said, but your heart is siding with your friends with how painfully it pounds against your chest. Your trust in Jungkook couldn’t have been that fragile, could it? Why did it break with one sentence?

Heavy footfalls follow you beyond the exit, but you’re too distracted by trying to move your legs steadily to notice. It isn’t important enough to distract you from someone calling your name though, or the light weight of a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hm?” you say without looking up, frozen in your steps.

“A-Are you okay?” A smooth voice asks.

“I’m a bit sad,” your voice cracks and wavers from holding back a meltdown, “hurt.” You want to recognize the blurred image of the man standing next to you, so you blink and a tear sheds from each eye. “I told you to never talk to me again, Jimin.” You feel overwhelmed, and yet the memory of the blackmail has little impact on your mess of emotions, but it doesn't help you feel better either.

“Sorry,” he breathes, “I still don’t understand why, but you can do the talking for me. Wh-what happened?”

“Why do you ask? So you can use that against me too?” you scoff through the lump in your throat. Confusion washes his soft features, so you add, “maybe another handjob for it?” You shrug off his hand and continue your walk of shame.

“I-I’ve never used anything against you, what are you talking about?” He’s chasing after you and it’s a bit of help in swaying your thoughts in a different direction, and your emotions towards anger and disbelief instead.

“Does a video ring a bell? The one you threatened to leak if I didn’t touch your…” You groan to yourself and quicken your pace towards your dorm. Maybe you could mope comfortably in there without the annoying presence of an arch enemy, who is feeding you more lies than you’re capable of consuming in one day.

“What? I never— Listen, I deleted that video the second I received it. Whoever told you that was lying, please!”

It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying. His love was a lie too, apparently. Maybe the Jungkook you know is just one big fat lie who can’t seem to tell you the truth in any moment you’ve been with him. How many times do you need to hear from others and yourself that Jungkook is lying?

“I know,” you whimper and run off.

Once Taehyung catches his breath after coughing for a minute straight with a fresh bruise blossoming on his neck, he interrupts the hushed argument between Jungkook and Soyeon by asking, “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know, but you’re going straight to hell once I fucking kill you for good,” Jungkook fumes with flushed cheeks.

“If you die by murder, you go straight to Heaven. How do you not know this?” His voice is low from the assault and his throat aches, but he still attempts to lighten the mood.

“I swear to fucking God, Taehyung—” Jungkook stops his threat when he sees Soyeon sneakily walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Air,” Soyeon vaguely answers.

“Bullshit.” Jungkook tries to go after her, wanting to be the first to find your dorm so she doesn't say more about that night, but Taehyung holds onto his wrist to stop him.

“She needs time—”

“Fuck off.”

When Jungkook begins to walk off after yanking off his hand, Taehyung immediately searches around the room and takes out a pen from a cup on the reception desk before jumping Jungkook from behind just as he was about to leave. They struggle against each other and start rolling around, but Taehyung is driven by adrenaline as he grounds himself on top of him. He holds him down with his legs and uncaps the pen to start writing on his forehead.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Everyone in the library peeks at the commotion due to Jungkook’s loud yell, but neither of them pay mind as he tries to move away from the pen.

“See if she takes you seriously with dick written on your forehead,” Taehyung chuckles before sprinting off with him hot on his tail. Jungkook is stronger, but Taehyung is much faster as he loses him pretty quickly by hiding in an occupied lecture hall. The professor looks at him questioningly but he thinks fast and breathlessly asks the students, “Is Jeon Jungkook here? The headmaster is looking for him.” Some people search for him, but when no one makes a peep, he escapes the room and Jungkook’s wrath.

Now to go to your dorm before Jungkook scrubs off the ink…

“I didn’t know his name,” Soyeon murmurs while fidgeting with her fingers. When she came in the room, you were muffling your sobs with your pillow and all she saw was your jerking shoulders. She tried to comfort you, to hug you, but you weren’t exactly being friendly, and the setting is pretty much the same except she’s sitting on your bed while you still cry. “I asked people what he looked like, but it was just a description of every guy in the room. He wasn’t around for them to point at, and so I thought maybe he didn’t come. Then this guy kisses me on this couch, feels guilty about it, and tells me his name. I-I didn’t know it was Jungkook. He left for you anyway…”

Her attempt at consolation is fruitless because it only makes you cry harder. She rubs your back soothingly before standing up. “I’ll check up on you later. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod against your stained pillow.

The moment she opens the door, Taehyung’s fist misses her head by an inch. “Oops,” he says before gently pushing her aside by her shoulder and entering. His eyes fall on your fetal position first thing and he pouts at you. “Aw, baby—”

“She doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“I’m good company,” he dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, “you can go.”

She rolls her eyes before shutting the door, and it’s only you and him now. Your hiccups fill the room as he sadly watches you, a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. “I tried to tell you. Well, I tried to get him to tell you.”

“Y-You said,” you snivel against the sheet, “th-that he was whipped for me.”

I said that to get you to open up. Even in his head it sounds cruel, so he rethinks his response with a grimace. “Jungkook told me he liked you.” Maybe shifting the blame wasn’t exactly much better, especially since he told him that after the claim, but you have enough on your plate.

“H-He told me he loved me,” you hiccup, releasing your death grip on the poor pillow. It’s a mask rather than a silencer now. Taehyung widens his eyes to himself and purses his lips. He takes Soyeon’s former seat and turns you on your back. His heart sinks a little when he sees your face: red nose, heavy lids, bloodshot eyes and quivering lips with messy hair. You look really pretty to him right now. “He lies so much. H-He even made me give Jimin a handjob.”

“Made you?” he repeats with his thumb drawing circular patterns on your collarbone.

You nod. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to talk about it. It was horrible.”

His brows furrow at your tone. “That’s so fucked up... Man, you need to avoid him.”

“Jimin?”

“Jungkook. That’s too twisted, even for him. You’re an angel…” his palm reaches for your cheek and his thumb continues its soothing motions. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you mouth and fresh tears brim as you try to swallow. It feels like you’re sick all over again, except there’s no misunderstanding to clear this time. He wipes a stray teardrop and smiles down at you; it’s a relaxing gesture. You close your eyes and hold onto his wrist, snuggling into his warm hand.

“I sound really cheesy, don’t I?” he chuckles. “Can’t lie, wish I had someone call me an angel after I caught my ex cheating on me.”

An involuntary giggle erupts from your mouth at his joke. “You’re an angel, Taehyung. An angel in disguise.” You peek at him before fluttering your eyes shut again. A pursed smile graces his lips, and he’s convinced he isn’t interested in you romantically, that it was just an invisible force drawing him closer to you, that he wasn’t the one aiming for your lips until a pound on the door resounds in the room.

You flinch away from his hand and he pulls back instantly; both of your heads shoot to the source of the noise.

“Open up!” Jungkook yells and continues fisting the door. “Open the fucking door!” Taehyung holds a finger against his lips, signalling you to stay silent until he leaves. “I want to talk. Open the door… please.” Neither of you say anything.

“Fine,” he agrees, “don’t talk. I’ll talk, but at least give me a sign that you’re here.” Before Taehyung can stop you, you rush to the door and knock once. You hear him slide down the door, presumably leaning his back against it and sitting on the floor. “Okay. I’m sor— They were lying—” you slam your fist against the door in denial. “Okay! But they weren’t telling the whole truth back there. I was um… on drugs. I was really fucking high, okay?”

“Yet your high-self still managed to yell at me! Clearly you weren’t high out of your mind,” you snap menacingly. He flinches at your sudden shut-down; he’s never heard you yell at him before, nor has he ever been the victim of your anger. It makes his heart drop.

“That was like, three hours after I got high! I was practically sober, plus, you weren’t talking to me that day!”

“I had lost my voice! I didn’t want you to get sick—"

“I DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW THAT!”

He gulps at your silence and inhales a deep breath to calm down. He hears you sniffle on the other side. “I-I didn’t know that. You wouldn’t kiss me, wouldn’t talk to me, and I didn’t know why. I thought you stopped loving me and… that really upset me.” He sighs to himself because he’s never opened up so honestly and it’s difficult, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. It just feels so embarrassing.

Taehyung opens the window of your dorm and climbs out. You don’t see or hear it happen, too invested in your argument to even remember his existence. “Do you remember what I told you the night we did it for the first time?”

His face scrunches as he tries to replay the events beside the sex. The corner of his lip tugs upwards when he recalls you calling him a slut, but he’s still clueless as to why you’re bringing it up. You don’t leave him in the dark for long. “I told you I wouldn’t forgive you a second time.” He gnaws on his lip as his palms feel clammy with nervous sweat.

“W-We weren’t dating then,” he tries to justify. “I didn’t need forgiveness then. You’re so unfair!” He stands up and knocks with his fist again. “Let’s talk it out face to face, I’ll explain everything. You’re putting me at a disadvantage! Don’t you want clarity? Don’t you want this to work out?!” He starts chanting your name when you don’t answer. “I will break down this fucking door if you don’t open it,” he doesn’t sound nearly as intimidating as he usually does when threatening; he sounds more like he’s a second away from breaking down himself. “No, no… please. I-I’ll kiss another girl if you break up with me! You don’t want that, right? So just open the door.”

His tough façade crumbles the longer you ignore him, and he can’t believe the heavy weight he feels all over his body wants to leave in the form of tears. It stings in his eyes but he doesn’t dare let them fall. “You’re so fucking cruel!” He twists the door handle violently; desperately. A dry sob escapes him as he kicks the door one last time. “Oh God, oh God…” he tries to breathe but it doesn’t enter his lungs. It’s like being choked with a noose as he gasps and a tear runs down his cheek. His wheezes become so loud that you start hearing them and grow concerned.

You consider the possibility that it’s one of his tactics, trying to manipulate you, but you open the door anyway. It’s a slight crack and you barely get a look at him before he pushes it open completely and forces his way in. He sits on your bed and his shoulders hunch, breaths still shallow. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t like her, never did, I only— I was mad, and I couldn’t go through with it, and I’ve never shown you affection b-because I’ve only ever received it from you—” you hush his rambling with a hug, but he continues with his head against your stomach anyway, “I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m a fucking mess and I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me, but please don’t leave me. I’ll do my homework, I’ll stop being mean, I won’t even talk if you don’t want me to, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“Jungkook…” you trail in shock. “I’m here. Take a deep breath.” When he tries, it’s so shaky that it makes you tear up for the umpteenth time. You’re a mess with him. “In and out, love, in and out.” You would do it with him like an instructor, but it’s not possible when he’s squeezing your waist so tightly. It takes a few minutes for him to relax his grip and he looks up at you pitifully. “It’s okay,” you assure and pet his hair, “you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” he exhales. “I mean… I realized that night, that I only want to be with…”

“I get it,” you whisper to comfort him, knowing he has struggles with expressing himself, but he doesn’t stop. He wants to get it off his chest, and he quietly tells you, “I kissed another girl when I wanted to make you jealous, and then another to forget. I don’t want to do that, I mean I only want to kiss… you.”

You initiate it first by leaning down to peck his lips, and you don’t pull away too far. You peck him again, and then start kissing him. He’s never been this slow with you before, but the panic attack must have drained him. It’s the way that he doesn’t immediately turn it heated with the intent of taking it to the third base that warms your heart. He’s hesitant and taking his time, mindful of your reactions because you’re in control for once. You’re aware of how vulnerable he is being with you, and he conveys that with the gentle press of his lips.

He whimpers into the kiss, and it’s so quiet and mournful that you lean back but he chases after you. He doesn’t want to stop like you’d assumed, so you place your knees on either side of him and hover over his thighs. Even his hands are hesitant as he lightly sits you down on his lap by pulling your waist. You smile against him and with his submission, you swipe your tongue across his lip. He opens for you. You roll your tongue around his, and he eventually begins to suck on yours. There’s a pit in your stomach that confuses you; is it arousal? Flattery? You feel so special because you know he hasn’t been like this with anyone else; so powerless and passive.

It’s passionate. You inch your body a little closer to him and he grunts when you brush against his crotch before settling down. This isn’t about sexual needs, and you don’t treat it as such but your body has a mind of its own with its constant shuffling that turns him on. He doesn’t want to feel that way, but his hips have a subtle way of thrusting beneath you. His hums rumble and you kiss him harder, losing all your senses except for the warmth of his skin. You don’t notice him controlling the movement of your hips because he’s taking it slow, and you don’t need to know why he’s quietly moaning into you.

At least no one’s watching him now.

You pull back in surprise when he groans loudly, and you know he’s back to himself as his actions grow rough. You’re practically jumping when he grinds on you with his spit all over your mouth because of his explorative tongue. From past experience, you’ve figured out that Jungkook is more honest when he’s in the heat of the moment, so you inquire against his lips, “Why did you lie to me about Jimin?”

“That fucking freak,” he growls, “I needed a reason to get you to hate him. He didn’t stop you when it happened, did he?”

Still manipulative. “Will you do the same with Taehyung?”

“No, I,” his thrusts slow down, “I’m gonna, err…” He looks at you for help.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and talk things out with him, right?”

“Right,” he breathes, “talk.” He slams his lips against yours again, and it’s not long before he sighs at his climax with your cooperation. There’s a small patch growing on his pants through his underwear, and he cusses when he notices it. He pecks you one last time before hugging you and laying on the bed, cuddling you like a blanket. “Do you forgive me?”

You rest your head on his chest and feel his pulse to contemplate. He brings a hand up to your hair and starts running his fingers through it, unbothered by your lack of answer. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “Do you…” he clears his throat, “do you maybe want to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date?” you tease with a grin.

“Yes.”

“There’s my answer,” you lift your head to wink up at him. “But if you test me again, I’ll break your heart just as you did mine. Don’t worry though,” you whisper, “I’ll never leave you.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts #networkbangtan

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indig0g0 · 4 years

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ART THEFT ALERT - ASK-THE-SHARPS

Okay so... normally I don’t like. DO callouts, but someone came to me about this, because he wasn’t sure what to do and if he would even be taken seriously if he DID say anything, so I’m organizing this FOR him. Please bear with me, this is going to be very long.

So, I’d been notified that ask-the-sharps has been engaging in like. Actual art theft? Like outright tracing other’s art and also wholesale “i am passing this entire artwork of someone else off as my own” art theft.

But also seeing as Altar is SELLING commissions, it should probably be noted that… He’s tracing? Thats important. Even one of the drawings in his commission sheet is traced.

And he’s not even stealing from small name artists either, he’s been tracing artwork of artists like princecanary and thewickwheat and reiki-kun (on devART)

Now i would like to not that wickwheat DOES allow referencing of her art as long as it’s used only privately (a link to her TOS/FAQ) (princecanary and reiki-kun do not) but she REQUIRES CREDIT for the referencing, EVEN IN PRIVATE, which Altar did NOT do And of course, I would never make such claims without proof so here we go! I am going to link all images separately at the end in a drive if you would like to see them more fully.

So it’s worth noting, most of the discord screenshots are not mine, they were given to me by a friend to use for this post, because he’s not comfortable making the post himself at this time, but will not be censored because he’s okay with it being public.

Now these things aren’t in order except in order that they were brought to my attention The first thing I was told about was Altar tracing and passing off as his own, an auction design that Reiki-Kun made and sold on patreon

It’s worth noting, this trace over is done in Altar’s “style” of coloring. This could not have been made by someone else. My friend is a patreon of Reiki, and was suspicious! And he was right! This was a design he saw posted by Reiki!

(Original adopt listing) When confronted about it, Altar played it off as “someone sold me this?”

My friend was still suspicious but he was willing to let it go, but he brought it to another friend, who brough it to me and another friend and we were able to find the character’s toyhou.se.

the character’s toyhouse // this is a link to the ownership log

This character has never been sold to anyone BUT the person who bought it.In fact, the designer has a masterlist of designs they’ve sold FOR this reason! masterlist link // Reiki’s TOS

MORE UNDER CUT! WAY MORE. SO MUCH MORE.

My friend has since reached out to the artist to notify them of the theft

which is why I’m including this first and foremost. (the link is the masterlink link above!) So this was already very suspect! But believe it or not! It gets worse!

Altar has been sharing “art” of his characters which is clearly and notably traced

Original tweet link

Original post Please note that the name is edited out of the original sheet presumably to keep people from looking her up, but he… keeps the name anyway?

Original post This one was someone else’s COMMISSION done by the original artist! The signature is removed!

Original post! Another commission! With the signature EDITED OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AGAIN!!!!!!! Implying that Altar MADE THIS.

Theres genuinely so many of these stolen that I cant show their originals so I’m just linking those I could find. )i could not find the first couple but here’s the rest in order. (Headlock) (shoulder pads) (bloody sketch) (could not find this one) (Crossed arms) (punch)

These don’t belong to wickwheat, but a friend of wickwheat’s who did not have a tracing/referencing TOS that i could find, except that they should ASK to use their art, presumably with credit (which was not given)

Orignal post This one he traced from the smaller reference, if we were wondering, of Jane’s oc. And in these screenshots claimed as his own art.

The original post, please note it IS at the bottom. There were several others I was shown that were clearly traced or otherwise stolen but I couldn’t source the artist and therefore couldn’t prove it.

However, during my digging I WAS able to find more instances of tracing.

One instance of which is from two of my friends, Apollo and Wren, who are still IN the fantroll community, which he uses IN his COMMISSION EXAMPLES. This is a collaborative base that they made together.

Altar’s commission post

First set Second Set Third Set Fourth Set

Original

I contacted one of them as the other was asleep, and asked if either of them had ever released the base and lo. Neither of them had.

So as Wren (abyssalsphynx) so eloquently put… not only is he stealing from big name artists he’s… profiting off the traced work of other fantrollers? I also found more instances of him tracing from princecanary WHICH HE HAS POSTED TO HIS BLOG AND TOYHOU.SE AS MAIN REFERENCES

I took screenshots of everything just in case he deletes or makes things otherwise inaccessible

This one I was only able to find a pinterest shot because Princecanary has deleted so much/hidden it because of…. Theft. Funny right? But it’s clearly princecanary’s art, and princecanary’s comic (Gentleman Town) characters.

The character’s toyhouse

Character’s toyhou.se Princecanary’s original tweet

This one literally took me two minutes to find, I was FLOORED. I’m almost positive there’s more instances of art theft, I just. Literally only have so much brain power to go digging, because he’s obviously shameless enough to steal from so many artists, I can only imagine there’s more that I couldn’t identify.

In conclusion I’m just… Why would you? Do all of this? Except laziness? Your own art, or at least what we used to SEE of it wasn’t like bad???? So why profit off of someone else’s art work?

And buyer beware because like. this is fucked up.

Anyway here’s all the screenshots and such.

#long post #art theft #drama

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

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Betrayal Story - part 5

This is it guys, this is why the characters got names! I hope y’all like it <3

CW: branding, burning, forced to watch, emeto (pretty brief and only at the end), whumpee restrained to a table, nonsexual noncon touch, hurt no confort again but that will change eventually I promise lol

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot @sunflower1000 @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove @boxofsilence @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince @livingforthewhump (let me know if you ever want me to stop or start tagging you ♡)

Part one is here, continued from here

Fire is strangely beautiful, Liam thinks, watching it flicker and dance in the hearth. A kind of painful beauty that hurts to see, the idea of touching it enough for gooseflesh to rise, but pretty nonetheless.

He wishes he could be like fire. Not because of its beauty, but because it produces no shadow. No darkness comes from the flames, only light. And pain, when touched without notice. If he could be like that, only light and self-defense, maybe all of this wouldn’t hurt so much. Chase’s leaving, the dread of what each of his breaths might bring as time passes, the plummeting of his stomach every time he hears footsteps outside his room’s door.

The flames crackle, and Liam wonders why it is he can’t shake the fear off, as he remembers the guards bursting into his room and pulling him out of bed, leading him outside as Liam pretended each step didn’t make him want to scream. That was minutes ago, and yet the fear still drums in tandem with his heart, pulsating turmoil into his bloodstream. Why feel fear when all it does is make things worse? Wouldn’t it be easier if he could just be at peace in those moments between pain, before it comes? But instead, his mind or his body or his soul decides to fill him with dread – only another layer of horror he cannot avoid.

Jonah was waiting for him when they brought Liam inside a weirdly cozy living room, leaning against the fireplace and watching Liam’s uncertain footsteps as he was pushed down to lie on a steel table placed in the middle of the room. Eyes glued to him as Liam was restrained until he could no longer move. His gaze went straight to the fireplace and stayed there since, watching the flames as memories of electricity, lighting up his every nerve until he nearly lost his voice to screaming, flashed before his eyes. The memory is still fresh enough to freeze him into not resisting. What a pitiful sight he must be.

“Hello there,” Jonah smiles, taking casual steps towards him and stopping by his side to watch from above, hands in his pockets as if having someone tied to a table in his living room is nothing out of the ordinary. “How are you today, Liam? Has your voice returned after our last encounter?”

He lifts his gaze to find the man’s eyes blinking innocently at him.

“You are sick,” Liam rasps out, shaky and small, but the words are there. He might be restrained and scared, but he is not broken. He isn’t. Right?

“That’s a yes, then. Very good, I like to hear you,” scream – he doesn’t even have to finish the sentence for the word to be heard. Liam feels sick. “Now let’s call our mutual friend, shall we?”

Liam narrows his eyes as Jonah types something on his phone. He can’t be talking about–

“Chase!” Jonah says to the camera Liam only now notices a few paces away, held by another one of Jonah’s men. He tries to hear more, but Jonah comes so close to the camera and talks in such a low voice that all he grasps and holds on to is the name.

Jaw clenched and stomach churning, Liam stares at the ceiling, letting the wave of bitter rage break against him without resistance. It wins the battle against fear for one moment, and that’s enough for him to seize it with every last bit of willpower. It is better to be angry than frightened, and he’s had enough of the latter for a lifetime.

The frantic beat of his heart turns into aching memories of Chase’s lies, promises of love he never intended to keep, each word meant to trick Liam into being a fool. Twice. Once months ago, then again when he genuinely, stupidly, hoped Chase would pick him instead of a job. Fucking ludicrous.

But bitterness can only do so much to keep fear at bay, and when Jonah’s voice reaches his ears again, not even a minute later, it comes crashing back and flooding his veins with pointless adrenaline.

“He was a very good boy if you want to know. Just stood there, still and obedient as we buckled in the restraints,” he says to the camera, stopping beside Liam once more, placing a hand on his head. “Say hi to Chase, Liam boy.”

“Fuck you,” he spits. Fuck both of you, he means to complete, but Jonah’s hand is already closing on his hair, drawing out a pathetic little whimper from his lips.

“Language, Liam.”

He closes his eyes and waits for the hand to let go. It’s all he can do. Still, his hands twitch uselessly by his side, palms turned to the ceiling closing in fists, knuckles scraping against cold steel.

“I guess this is a lesson for both of you, then. For Chase to not be a prick and for you to behave better, my pretty plaything.”

Eyes snapping open, he glares up at Jonah, feeling indignation bubble up inside of him.

Jonah doesn’t even see it. He is too busy looking at his phone with an unamused expression before handing it to one of the guards.

Is he talking to Chase? Is Chase delighting in seeing Liam like this, helpless and scared?

The part of him that refuses to give up entirely shakes its head, remembers gentle touches and tender gazes that couldn’t possibly have been faked. The other part, the one that grows each day he spends in this hell, purses its lips and scoffs at his naiveness. If Chase cared, he wouldn’t have left him here.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah says, painful grip turning into deceivingly soft fingers that run through Liam’s hair in mock sympathy. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

He tries to fight it. Of all the things he’s been put through, he fights the tears that prick his eyes. And just like everything else, he loses. They fall in warm drops down his temples as he turns his head, looks away into the fire again. No shadows there, nothing like the darkness seeping through the cracks of his heart, tainting his soul.

“Now for the fun part,” Jonah declares, sauntering to the fireplace, crouching down in front of it. Something entirely too close to panic pools in Liam’s stomach as he gets back up, holding two iron rods he’d dismissed as fire pokers. As Jonah approaches him, he can see with disturbing clarity how wrong he’d been – the rods’ bright-orange tips shine in intricate shapes. Letter shapes.

“J-Jonah,” he breathes, more sob than word, “please, please don’t.”

Jonah smiles at him, and without saying a word hands one of the brands to a guard before placing himself beside Liam’s exposed arm.

He tries to breathe, beg, say something, but every rational thought disappears as Liam follows the blazing hot shapes with wide eyes, gasping for air that refuses to fill his lungs.

He is almost there, the please I’ll do anything hanging from the tip of his tongue when the branding iron is lowered onto the delicate skin above his wrist.

Burn could never describe the pain that steals every last bit of himself Liam tries to hold on to. Fire sinks into his skin, into muscle and bones until it reaches whatever lies within, and destroys everything in its path. He screams, cries and wails senseless pleads, but nothing passes through the ocean of agony he’s drowned in.

He barely notices when the brand is pulled away.

He does when the second one is pressed onto his other arm though.

Liam writhes and sobs, but there’s no escape, no mercy to be begged for. Only pain to feel, nothing, no one else but pain and pain and pain that swallows and dissolves the world into searing flames that hold nothing of whatever beauty he thought he saw.

You know, what really makes me mad isn’t even your fucking stupid idea of keeping things from me. It’s the shit job you did deleting those files. Who do you think I am, Chase?

That was all that waited for Chase when his phone buzzed, along with a link to a live stream instead of a video. No recording this time, no certainty that at least while Chase watches, Liam isn’t in pain anymore.

“Chase. I see you’re faster now. Pity you’re no smarter,” Jonah sighed as soon as he clicked on the link. “But I won’t go into how fucking idiotic it was of you to delete half the information I asked you to get me,” he hissed, low and angry enough for Chase to feel the words as bugs crawling along his skin, up and down, circling his throat, ready to squeeze. “What’s happening here today is entirely on you. I hope you see and hear and remember every bit of it, sweetheart.”

He felt like screaming when Jonah closed his hand in Liam’s hair and made him yelp. The impulse to clench his fist until it shattered the phone was strong enough for Chase to connect the live stream to the television in his living room and bite on his lip when the image expanded and Liam’s terror became so painfully obvious.

One minute later, Chase nearly threw the phone at the wall when he called the man and Jonah simply looked down at his muted cell phone on the other side of the screen and handed it to someone else.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah said, and Chase seethed, half anger and half guilt boiling inside of him. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

Chase dropped the phone in time to avoid crushing it, but the desk chair didn’t escape his rage. Its broken pieces fell on the other side of the room, doing nothing to soothe the horror building up in his stomach.

And then Jonah grabbed the branding iron, and Chase’s heart missed a beat at the sight, eyes widening in tandem with Liam’s.

“J-Jonah,” Liam choked out, “please, please don’t.”

“Jonah,” Chase said too, unable to hold it in just like anything else in his life, even if he knew he was the only one listening. There was never such a thing as restraint when it came to Liam. If only Chase had seen it sooner. “No–“

When the iron descended on that soft, silky, perfect skin above the restraint circling Liam’s wrist, Chase fell on his couch, legs too weak to hold his weight.

Liam screamed, loud and raw and utterly hopeless, back trying to arch and being pulled back down by too tight restraints before it even left the table. His body spasmed, trying to escape the blaze, but there was nowhere to go, and it took only a moment for the despair to turn into sobs and tears.

It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but those would star Chase’s nightmares forever. Jonah pulled the iron off Liam’s now bright red skin, and Chase couldn’t bear to look at the letter-shaped burn. He also couldn’t help it.

When Jonah exchanged the used iron with the second one, Chase felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “Please, p-please, please,” Liam begged, so little Chase barely heard it, so dazed he didn’t think Liam did either.

He echoed it though.

“No, please don’t.”

But no one heard him, and the second branding iron was pressed to the inside of Liam’s other arm, and his mouth opened in a silent scream Chase heard nonetheless.

By the time the second one is pulled away, Chase is kneeling on the floor, hands covering his mouth and tears threatening to overflow.

It is nothing compared to Liam, though. His mouth hangs open even as the iron stops touching skin, and soft sobs wrack his slim body as his glassy eyes leak a constant stream of tears into his hair.

Chase doesn’t even move when Jonah’s voice leaves the speakers again.

“So? Do you like it?” he asks, a manic grin stretched across his lips as he points to Liam and the camera walks toward him.

It focuses on his face first. Sweat, tears, pure agony written all over it. His eyes lay open and unfocused, lost to the pain. The image slides down to his heaving chest, restrained arms, until it stops above both his wrists.

Chase turns to the side and vomits at the sight.

Two bright red burns mar the perfect skin he had once worshipped with lips and tongue and feather-light touches that never felt like enough.

Jonah chuckles, and the live stream ends in that ghastly image of two letters forever engraved on Liam’s skin. Flourished and elegant, a C stands out on his right arm and an R on the left one. His initials. Chase Raymond.

Chase pukes again, and then curls up on the floor and weeps.

(next)

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fickle-tiction · 3 years

Text

Gotham’s Ticklish Prince

This started out as a headcanon, and then it spiraled out of control. You’re welcome.

One day Bruce Wayne makes headlines. This isn’t surprising, or even noteworthy. He’s always making headlines for some silly nonsense he does as Bruce, to draw attention away from Batman. What is surprising is when he walks into the Hall of Justice and sees his face smiling back at him from about 10 different magazines strewn all over the meeting table.

Specifically, he sees himself curling inwards, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, mouth stretched into a wide surprised smile as Mike, his date to last night’s gala, stands behind him. Thankfully, Mike’s hands are out of frame so no one can tell from the picture that he’s squeezing Bruce’s sides from behind.

“Oh look.” Arthur says, coming out of nowhere with a shit eating grin on his face. “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince decided to show his face.”

If Bruce didn’t have years of training and self discipline under his belt he would have flushed.

A Different magazine comes flying at him and smacks him in the stomach before he can even blink. Bruce catches it on reflex and looks down, only to be met with the headline “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince Has A New Squeeze” and, to his internal horror, it shows a picture snapped about two seconds after the first one. Bruce is clearly laughing in delight as Mike squeezes his sides, in full view of the camera. Several smaller pictures are beneath it, catching Bruce as he latches onto Mikes hands, turns and leans in close to tell him to stop. He didn’t have to flip to page 4, where the story apparently continued, to know what other pictures they surely got. Mike hadn’t stopped after one squeeze, and Bruce was too into character, and for once too unaware of any paparazzo nearby, to make him stop.

He knew he should have skipped the gala last night. Getting only 3 hours of sleep over the course of 4 nights and then slipping into his Bruce persona was always risky. Normally the two whiskies he had wouldn’t affect him at all, but the exhaustion plus the fact that he liked this Mike guy and was feeling comfortable and loose, clearly created a perfect storm. He remembered Mike sneaking up on him, he remember his guard being down just enough for it to catch him unawares and cause a reaction. He remembered how good it felt, but he won’t be letting himself go there. No. No thank you.

What he didn’t remember was the paparazzi being right there.

Or what would happen when those pictures surfaced at HQ.

Bruce finally looked up from the front cover of the Gotham Globe and was met with identical smirks from Arthur and Clark. Well, that explained the newspaper smacking him in the stomach earlier.

“It’s a character.” Bruce said, voice flat as he tossed the magazine onto the conference table. It wouldn’t help his situation if he tried to throw it out or look like he was hiding something.

“Right.” Clark didn’t sound like he was buying it at all. “So you knew you were being recorded. That’s why you put on such a convincing act.”

Recorded?

Recorded?!

Again, Bruce didn’t outwardly react at the news, but inside he was curling into a ball, ready to wither and die at any second. They fucking got that on video?

Naturally, the huge screen on the wall clicks on at the moment, showing a video of Bruce doing something on his phone. He had actually been playing some asinine game as he waited for Mike to come back from the bathroom. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught doing anything more than slicing up fruit on his phone, after all.

“I see Victor’s here.” Bruce says dryly, as though his eyes aren’t glued to the screen. His face remains impassive, but inside he’s once again screaming for his past self to turn around as Mike comes into frame behind him. He’s so busy watching Mike smirk and start sneaking up behind him (and, really, how did he not notice this last night? The guy is being so damn obvious about it.) that he doesn’t notice Clark and Arthur inching closer to him on either side.

Bruce feels a hand latch onto either of his sides just as Mike reaches forward and does the same on camera. Thankfully, Bruce’s guard has been up since he first saw his goofy face smiling back at himself when he walked into the room, so he does nothing more than cock an eyebrow and look at first Arthur, and then Clark.

“It’s a character.” He repeats, ignoring the staccato squeezing at one of his worst spots.

“I’m not going to react like he does, even though this tickles like hell. Bruce Wayne is an airheaded goof ball. Batman might be ticklish, but he doesn’t let it show--what the fuck?!” Bruce looked down to see a glittering gold rope wrapped innocently around his ankle. “Diana! What the hell?! I’m going to--” He cut off, clamping his mouth shut as he felt words trying to spill out. Words he most definitely did not want to say in the present company.

“Going to what, Brucie?” Diana asked, smirking as she held the lasso of truth in her hand. Bruce glared daggers at her, lips clamped tightly even as the squeezing on his sides turned to wiggling fingers and, to his horror, he felt his resolve breaking.

“I’m--” Bruce huffed, biting his lower lip to keep from both speaking and laughing. “--I’m going--” His mouth was trying to curve into a smile, but Bruce was nothing if not stubborn and refused to let it happen.

“We’ve almost got him.” Arthur smirked, venturing a little lower and pinching just above Bruce’s hipbone.

Clark noticed the jolt that caused and immediately followed suit on his side.

“I’m-Going-To-Pretend-To-Hate-all-of-you-to-keep-up-my-image.” Bruce was forced to say, as he finally caved and latched onto Arthur and Clark’s hands. Not that it did him any good. He might be The Batman, but outside of his suit he didn’t stand a chance against Superman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman, if she decided to get more hands on.

“You don’t actually hate it, do you.” Clark marveled, giving that spot above his hipbone another gentle pinch. Thank God for his super hearing, because without it he probably would have missed the squeak Bruce let out.

“I-” Again, Bruce was trying to clamp his mouth shut, but it wasn’t very effective since his mouth was stretched into a wide grin. “I have an image to maintain!” It was supposed to come out as a growl, but instead it sounded more like a whine as Bruce’s dam broke and laughter started pouring out of him.

“Well, if you’re trying to maintain the Ticklish Prince of Gotham image, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Arthur mocked him, now fluttering his fingers up and down Bruce’s side rapidly.

Bruce was lost to the laughter, something that hasn’t happened to him since he was a kid. He began backing up, trying to back away from the tickling fingers flying furiously up and down both sides of his body. Absently, he noted that Diana must have let him go because he didn’t trip over the lasso as he tried to get away. He did, however, back himself into the wall without realizing it since his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to contain the wild laughter pouring out of him.

“Fahahahack!” Bruce cursed himself as Clark and Arthur boxed him in, each still tickling away. Clark was now experimenting with Bruce’s stomach while Arthur, the bastard, was worming his way under Bruce’s arm.

They let him try to defend himself for a minute, wordlessly taunting him as they both danced around his arms with half-hearted attempts to get at his armpits. Finally, Arthur spoke up. “Clark, do you mind doing something about these?” He asked, tracing his fingertips gently up and down Bruce’s forearms. Bruce was well and truly gone if even that tickled like hell.

“Wha-” Bruce asked, laughter starting to die down as he got a short break. He cracked his eyes open, realizing for the first time he had been hunched in on himself, arms clamped down tightly, trying to protect as much of his sides as he could.

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure.” Clark grinned. Lightening fast, he grabbed up Bruce’s wrists in one strong hand and pinned them to the wall above his head. Bruce’s eyes widened comically, too far gone to have any hope of controlling his facial features.

“Hey now.” He said, voice breathy as caught his breath. “You’ve had your fun.” Instead of the gravely voice they’d come to expect, Bruce’s voice was closer to that of his alter ego Bruce Wayne’s now. Nearly high pitched, and just short of panicky as he flexed his arms against the steel grip they were in.

“Tell me Bruce,” Arthur started, fingers slowly crawling up his ribs towards their destination. Bruce’s nerves immediately jumped to attention because they were already so worked up. “Are your armpits ticklish?”

Bruce tried to glare at him, even as his muscles twitched beneath Arthur’s fingers and his mouth started curving into another grin.

“Diana left.” Clark added, grinning at the man he had pinned to the wall. “And she took her lasso with her. I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

“Fuck.” Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while.

When Clark and Arthur finally let him go, he slumps to the floor in an exhausted heap and marvels at the last time he laughed that much (The answer: never.) or the last time he felt this exhausted without getting his ass whooped, or whooping someone else’s.

Once he’s regained some of his dignity, Bruce goes to the security feed with the intention of deleting the last hour of footage. He surprised to find it’s already gone, the tapes spliced seamlessly, with only a minor blip to show anything is missing.

Victor, naturally, saved the entire thing to his personal servers. Just in case.

#ticklish!batman #ticklish!brucewayne #tickling #fanfiction #tickling fanfiction #ticklish!dcu #superman #aquaman #batman #wonder woman #cyborg

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btsmakesmehappy · 4 years

Text

Sweet Scent | 4

Genre: Agent au. Colleague au. Mutual pining. Angst with Fluff at the end

Pairing: Agent!Jungkook x Forensic Doctor!reader

Word Count: 10k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: reader feels a little insecure. reader is held on a gun point. (Not too explicit) violence. Guns. Reader and JK are hurt. Angsty with fluffly ending. I think it’s all? (Please tell me if I miss something!)

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | completed

Summary: Why does he always look so nervous in front of you? Is it because of your excessive flirting? But how come you don’t tease him when he looks so incredibly cute every time he blushes?

Series Masterlist: The Company

A/N: Thank you for @arizonapoppy for betareading mine. You’re the best! Also the next part (sequel/drabble) will be posted next year just so the timeline makes more sense. So the next update will be the other member <3 Hope you enjoy!

Send an ASK if you want to be added in the taglist!

A knock on the door made you turn your head in confusion. You’re not expecting anyone right now. It’s almost nine o’clock in the night, and the building should be emptied by now, it’s past the office-hours.

Maybe a new case?

With the thought of that, your smile was beaming. You rose from the chair quickly and walked to the door. It’s the person behind the door that made you thank God that you decided to stay late at the Company.

Jeon Jungkook.

It’s been a month since you saw him in the firing range. You’re hoping to meet him again somewhere in the building, especially the cafeteria (because there is some information that you’d find him there), but you’ve never got the chance. The funniest thing was the other colleagues always found him there, except you. It’s just like destiny didn’t want you to meet him.

You believed in destiny. You believed in the universe.

You believed in the fall-in-love -at-the-first-sight. You believed in there’s sparks when you grazed someone's hand. You believed in the fallen books when you bumped the one in the corner of the street. You believed in the stranger sitting beside you on the plane while you’re travelling.

But unluckily for you, that’s never happened.

Still, you tried to believe in destiny, hoping to get some of it in your life.

After a month sitting in the cafeteria, waiting to bump a certain someone there, you’re getting tired of waiting for destiny. Well, even though you’d met him, would you still call it destiny? Weren’t you forcing it?

Which is why, it’s so weird how the universe just sent him to you that day. The day when you skipped washing your hair for the four days because you overslept and you’d tie it into a bun anyway. The day when your eyebrow pencil suddenly went missing. The day when you ate tomato pasta and dropped it on your shirt, leaving your white shirt with a huge red stain on the chest.

Why should it be that day?

Maybe the universe hated you.

“Y/N, right?”

His voice rang like a church bell, ringing through your ears and shaking your entire body. It’s almost magical that he sounded like an angel, and you longed him.

You couldn’t remember how long you looked at him, as his face turned red and uncomfortable. “He-Hello?” He timidly asked.

You shook your head quickly, “Ah, sorry. What can I do for you?” You opened the door widely as you gestured to him to come inside.

But Jungkook stayed in his spot, outside the doorway. He lowered his head to look at the paper in his hand, refusing to look at your eyes. “I need a report from the Ahn case.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning to the door frame. “About that, I don’t think it will be done by tomorrow. As you know Doctor Lee is still sick, so there’s no one to finalize the report.”

Jungkook bites his lips and sighed. “Yeah, I heard. Can you just- you know what, nevermind. Thank you.”

He bowed to you slightly and walked away. Even his body was that bulky, you could see how tired he was from behind. And somehow it hit a soft spot in your heart.

And maybe, you just wanted to be with him.

“Hey!” You yelled, he turned his back to you in confusion. “Do you want to see the report for a bit?”

Three days.

Three days you rejected every call from Jungkook. Three days you ignored all the knocks at the door from him. Three days you deleted all the messages he sent without even reading them. Three days.

And by Friday, you’re back to work, only because your days off are over. And unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows it too. It’s about time for you two to meet each other. It’s about time for you to stop avoiding him.

So, on that same day, you wake earlier than usual, leaving your apartment earlier than usual, but still go to work as late as you can. You hide at the bakery near the Company, eating a chocolate croissant, drawing it out by pulling it into flakey pieces, procrastinating.

You still can’t meet him yet. You don’t want to.

You walk as fast as you can to the elevator when you arrive at the Company. You look left and right as you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator. This elevator is taking so long.

“Y/N!”

You tense as you hear your name, looking timidly to the source of the voice. Please don’t be Jungkook, please. And when you look at the man standing behind you, you sigh in relief. “Hey, Jimin. What’s up?”

“How are you doing? Why do you look so pale? See a ghost?” Jimin asks while resting his arm on your shoulder.

You laugh awkwardly. “Ah really? Maybe just from the lack of sleep.”

He looks at you weirdly. “You literally had days off, why did you have a lack of sleep?”

You clear your throat, there is no way you would tell him about what happened and how it bothered your sleep so much. How his best friend and colleague is the reason for your tiredness. “Just some Netflix. Catching some dramas.”

“Really? What drama did you watch?” He asks excitedly.

“Uhh. Itaewon Class?” You let it slip your mouth. You don’t even know what the drama is about, only heard the title from Sehun a week ago.

Jimin looks at you with widened eyes and takes a step backward. “Well, I shouldn’t be too close with you then. I don’t want to be spoiled. I haven’t watched all of the episodes.”

You smile. “Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t.” In the corner of your eyes you can see a familiar man walking to both of you, a man that you want to avoid. Somehow in the middle of a busy lobby, your eyes were still drawn to Jungkook. He still doesn’t see you, which is good news. Checking the elevator, you hiss softly because it is still on the eleventh floor. Too long. “Anyway, I’m gonna have a call first. See you later!” You walk away from Jimin, without spending another glance. You need to get out of there, fast.

You still can’t see him yet.

Lucky for you, you decided to wear sneakers today. At least you can run four flights of stairs without being afraid of sprained ankles.

“Hey Kook!” Jimin calls and waves excitedly. “Overslept?”

Jungkook smiles weakly. “You can say that.” Lie. In fact, he woke up earlier than usual and he went to your apartment, and after two hours of waiting in front of your apartment like a persistent stalker, he finally realized that you’d already left the apartment. But Jimin doesn’t need to know that.

Jimin nods in understanding. “Oh, you know who’s come back to the Company? Y/N! Apparently her days off have ended. Actually, she was here just now.”

“Really?” Jungkook asks with widened eyes. “Where is she now?”

Jungkook’s reaction catches Jimin off-guard. The way Jungkook finally shows some interests in you, makes Jimin happy. “Well.. She said that she’s calling someone. You know, since you can’t have a phone call inside the elevator. But I don’t know where she is.”

Jungkook looks around him, but he still can’t find you. A thought drifts into his head, that you saw him and still didn’t want to meet him. And with that thought, he feels a stab in his heart.

Jungkook, you’re so stupid. You’re drunk stupid.

He wants to hit himself. Oh, he would if he can, especially in front of you. Not that he wants to show off or something, he just wants you to know how terrible and bad he feels about what he’s done. He even swore himself that he won’t get drunk ever again.

You stupid drunk jerk.

Even if you wanted to see him, what should he say? He hasn’t thought about it, and yet he called, messaged, and came to your apartment for three days in desperation.

“Kook?” Jimin asks warily. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Ah. yes. I’m okay.”

Jimin sends a mischievous smile to Jungkook. “You want to run after Y/N, don’t you?” he asks as the elevator finally arrives at their floor.

Jungkook looks at his feet and decides to step into the elevator. If she still doesn’t want to see me, there’s no point for me to force her. “Nah. I don’t want to.”

Lie.

How he wants to see you so much. So damn much it’s hurting him.

“Well-well, who’s there?” Sehun turns his chair to see you, still controlling your breath in front of the door. ”Why are you out of breath?”

“Stairs.” You roll your eyes as you wipe the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. You really need to work out sometimes, not just sitting and living a sedentary lifestyle.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “The elevator is broken?”

You shake your head weakly and sit on your chair. “Just need a little exercise.”

Sehun squints at your face and hums, realizing something is not right about you. “How are you? Okay?”

You nod and sigh. “Yeah.” You send him a weak smile. You look at your desk, it’s clean but you can still see the horrible image burned in your mind. It’s kinda hard for you to just delete it from your memory. Besides, it happened less than a week ago.

“Oh, I also finished your report. I was thinking that at least we should send an actual report, even though the investigation fell apart. What do you think?”

“What? I’m sorry. What are we talking about?” you ask, looking lost.

Sehun sends an assuring smile. “This report. We should send it to the agents. Don’t you think?”

You fiddle the corner of your shirt. “Yeah, I think we should.”

“You want to give it to them?” Sehun asks again. You bite your lips, your mind wanders. Seeing your sudden silence, Sehun rises from his seat and taps your shoulder lightly. “Actually, just stay here. I’ll take it to them.”

You watch his back disappearing from your sight. Again, you’re alone in this office. This office, your second home, but you barely feel comfortable sitting here. The scent of coffee you usually make every day is absent, since Sehun never drinks coffee in the office. You only detect the lemon scent from the air refresher in the corner. It’s supposed to be relaxing but instead, it makes your heart beat rapidly.

You feel sad.

Jungkook sighs again at his desk for God knows how many times. And everytime he sighs, it is just getting louder.

It begins to irritate the other agents around him. Especially since they haven’t been assigned to another case yet. To them, The Case of The Young Man in Distress, is their new case, and it somehow excites them.

Hoseok steals a glance at Taehyung and Jimin, sending signals right then and there. After they nod, they roll their chairs closer to Jungkook’s desk. “What’s up with you, Kook?” Hoseok starts.

Jungkook stares at the screen of his laptop, hands continually moving his mouse without any intention. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung snorts. “No, you’re not. Tell us what happened.”

“I’m fineeee.”

The older men share another look between them, they all look so concerned about Jungkook, but what can they do if Jungkook shuts his own mouth, let alone his feelings?

Jimin notices that their office door is open and yells deliberately loud. “Oh. Here’s our favorite forensic doctor!” It makes Jungkook flinch and Jimin sees Jungkook trying to steal a glance at the door and takes a deep sigh. “Our Sehun-ie. What can we do for you?”

“Just delivering some reports.” Sehun looks at the agents crowding Jungkook’s desk and points directly to Jungkook. “What’s wrong with him?” The agents shrug simultaneously.

“We are trying to find out. Wanna join?” Hoseok pulls another chair beside him, tapping the seat, gesturing to him to sit.

Sehun throws the report on the desk. “I want to. But I also need to find out what happened to my staff too.” Sehun turns his back and waves to them over his shoulder. “She looks troubled and unfocussed. Bad day, I think. See you, then.”

With the sudden drop of information, the three of them look at Jungkook’s reaction, who freezes in his seat. Something must have happened with the two of you.

Jimin asks cautiously. “Did something happen with Y/N?”

“Maybe on the day when you went missing after drinking with Yoongi?” Taehyung adds, which makes the older guys look at him questioningly. “Yoongi-hyung told me.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, instead he sighs and runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. The other agents know that they hit a sore spot. He bites his lips, hesitant to talk to them, but on the other hand, he doesn’t know what to do. Everything he chose seems like a wrong choice. Everything he does seems to push you away even further. “I-I just don’t know what I should do, Hyung.”

Hoseok pats Jungkook’s shoulder softly. “Tell us in detail. We’ll help you.”

And just like that, everything opened in public, well, to his best friends. How his heart feels weird whenever he sees you. How his heart ached when he saw you hurt. How you looked so weak and pained and disappointed when he took you home. How he went to your apartment drunk. How he wanted to apologize to you. How he kissed you drunk and how you pushed him back. How his heart crashed when he saw you cry, sobbing on the floor.

They listen to his story carefully, patting his shoulder several times when he looks like he’s going to burst into tears.

“And now, she doesn’t want to see me. I’ve been trying for three days.”

The silence falls in the room, it is interrupted when Jimin hits Jungkook’s head lightly. “Aigoo, you are an adult now. Stupid, but still, I’m just so proud of how you grew this fast.” Jimin smiles and hugs Jungkook lightly.

Jungkook whines. “Hyung, that’s not the point. What should I do?”

Taehyung suddenly raises his hand in the air. “Wait a minute, if Y/N really likes Jungkook, why did she push him away like that?”

“Well, y’know,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “you didn’t exactly get her permission before you kissed her.”

Hoseok held his hand up, silencing Jimin and Taehyung. “She might have thought that you just did it out of guilt.” Hoseok says softly. “Or maybe a pity, just a mere responsibility.”

“What?” Jungkook looks at him weirdly.

Hoseok explains further, “You know like a novel, when you hit someone with a car, and he/she lost their ability to walk, so you just decide to be with them? Or remember when you spilled coffee on my report and you decided to write it yourself and also bought me a pair of sneakers?”

“But I didn’t do those things to her out of guilt.” He gulps. “I-I don’t hate her. I don’t even know why I did it.”

Jimin smiles again widely, his eyes turn into crescents. “Are you sure you don’t know? I know that deep down, you know it.”

“Just tell her sincerely then about what you don’t know.” Taehyung smiles and puts his hand on Jungkook’s head, ruffling his hair softly.

Jungkook sighs again. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

“If she really likes you, she’ll come around, Kook.” Hoseok smiles and hugs the younger man. “Now, go find her!”

Jungkook looks at him with widened eyes. “Like, now?”

“Of course, silly. The faster the better.” Jimin laughs. “Go!”

“I don’t know what to say to her, I don’t prepare anything.”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook in disbelief. “What do you want? A teleprompter? Just tell her your feelings, dumbass!”

Weirdly enough, Jungkook rises from his seat and takes off running, leaving his cubicle empty. “I thought you bet that Jungkook won’t end up with her, hyung?” Jimin teases.

Hoseok scratches the back of his neck and smiles. “The moment he told us what happened to him just showed who’s gonna win the bet. And besides, I just want him to be happy.”

Taehyung moves his chair back to his desk. “How about we change our bet to another topic then? We have plenty of subjects to bet about.”

You rack your brain, trying to find a place where you won’t meet Jungkook. And after mentally listing the places, you decided to hide in the infirmary. It’s unused and no one is gonna be there. So you can hide for a moment. Just like when you’re in high school, you fake a stomach ache, just so you can get some sleep or when you forgot to bring your math textbook.

Well, five minutes of sleep are considered a privilege then, as you hear the door opened.

You look from inside a curtain, trying to identify the man who just came in with a cart full of cleaning supplies. Cleaning service? The man quietly sweeps the floor skillfully, and you suddenly feel that you shouldn’t be there, as you’re just gonna disturb his job. Just as you open the curtain harshly, you tilt your head in confusion. “Jin?”

Jin looks at you in surprise, almost dropping the broom on his hand. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Resting,” you say with an awkward smile. “What are you doing here? What’s with the broom and the gloves?”

Jin sighs and turns away from you, continuing to sweep the floor. “Cleaning.”

“Do you do this every day?” It’s just so weird for such an elite agent doing some cleaning in this place. Especially, since the Company also hires a cleaning service.

“No. Just every few days. Since it’s not used, it doesn’t get dirty that fast. I just clean this room when the cleaning service has their day off.” Jin answers lightly as he picks a towel to wipe the surface of the table.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my hobby,” Jin pauses and looks at the white wall. “or maybe I just hope that she’ll come back. You know right that she hates dust?” He laughs awkwardly. He clears his throat and looks at you warily. “Are-are you still in touch with her?”

“No.” You look at him quietly, somehow you can see his pain from his wide shoulder. It’s been a few years, but Jin is still hung up on her, still missing her. “Are you okay?” you ask cautiously.

Jin scoffs and walks away again, wiping the cabinet this time, “why? Do I look pathetic?”

You shake your head softly. “No. But you look broken-hearted.”

He turns his head to face you, looking into your eyes. “Well, so do you.”

Your jaw clenches, like how he hit your spot correctly. Tears threaten to fall down and you try to stop it by biting your lips. At the moment, you feel weaker and sad. You sigh and look at your feet. “What’s new?” you laugh dryly.

Jin puts away his supplies and removes his gloves as he walks to you, and plops on the bed beside you. “What happened?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking that mayb-”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there. You’re not thinking. It’s an assumption.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Wh-what?”

He sighs, “Whatever your problem was, and whoever he was, you’re overthinking this.”

“You don’t even know what the problem is.”

“I don’t. But I believe that you need to talk to him regardless of what the problem is, not talk to your mind, making assumptions. You know, the key to a healthy relationship is communication, and it applies to every relationship. Business, family, or even Love.” Jin sends you a smile. “Just talk to him. The misunderstanding won’t solve itself.”

You sigh again. “What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not a misunderstanding but a mistake?”

“Then talk a little more. Apologize if you need to. Forgive if you still want to be with him.” Jin stops, and swallows slowly. His voice cracks. “Fight for it, if it is worth fighting for, until you can’t fight anymore. Until you don’t have any regrets.”

You look at him carefully. You’ve never talked to him ever since you worked in the Company, let alone seeing his eyes like this. But now, you can see how he’s deep in pain. And you understand what he talked about. His experience. The thoughts of what he should have done before. The choices he regrets now.

You hop from the bed and walk to the door. “Thank you. I’ll try.” As you walk closer to the door, you turn to face him again. “She must have a reason, Jin. I don’t know what it was, but she would never hurt you.”

“I know.” Jin answers quickly. He darts his eyes away from you so that he can hide his watering eyes, and smiles. “So does Jungkook.”

I know.

You walk out from the elevator, squeezing your body from the others inside. It’s lunch time already, and you’re lucky enough that you can slip into the crowded elevator.

Seventh floor is quiet, but not as deserted as the last time you went there. You look around you, hoping to see a particular person. The one you need to see. The one you miss.

You sigh, heart thumping inside your chest. You’re not gonna lie that you’re nervous, and that’s not because of the thought of seeing Jungkook again. It’s the thought, an assumption, of what he’s gonna say. You’re afraid of hearing his reason, afraid that it’ll break your heart even more.

A little part of you tells you that it’s better this way, and just move on. But you realize, playing hide and seek with him won’t solve any problem. It will just hurt you, or both of you. If you need to move on from him, at least there’s no loose ends. And Jungkook deserves a chance to explain everything to you, in person.

“Y/N?”

You turn your head to the man calling you and sigh disappointedly. “Oh, hey Yoongi.”

Yoongi laughs a little. “Why do you always bump into me when you’re looking for Jungkook?” Yoongi looks more professional since the last time you met him, maybe because he’s sober right now, or because he wears a neat suit instead of his black hoodie.

You smile, feeling embarrassed that you’ve been found out. “How do you know that I’m looking for him?”

He shrugs, “nah, I just feel that there’s something about you two that needs to be finished.”

“Oh. I see.” You divert your gaze from him, “So, where can I find him?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know. I just came here.” He stretches his pale arms and continues, “y’know, overslept. Actually, maybe Jungkook is in the training room. He usually trains himself when he feels stressed about something.”

Your jaw clenches with the sudden information, forcing yourself to smile once more. “Thank you, I’ll get going then.”

You nod and walk again to the elevator, just the moment it arrives. When you’re inside the elevator, Yoongi yells to you, “He feels bad, Y/N---” You can only hear a snatch from him as the door closes, stopping you from hearing the full sentence.

I know.

You’ve been pacing the corridor for almost fifteen minutes, staring at the men’s locker room door. You perk your head to the door, every time it opens. And every time you do it, you’re left with another disappointment. Not to mention, all of the other male agents stare at a suspicious woman who’s lurking in front of a locker room.

Except one agent.

“Doctor Y/N?”

You’re leaning on the wall while massaging your calves. You squint in order to see the man approaching you better. “Kim Namjoon?”

Namjoon pauses in front of you, sending a warm smile. He’s drying his hair with the towel and his other hand holds a gym bag. “Yes, I don’t think I’ve introduced myself properly to you. Please just call me Namjoon.” He drops his bag to the ground clumsily, making some of his things flow out from the unzippered bag, reaching out his hand to shake yours. “I’m afraid that Jungkook is not here.”

Your eyes widen. “Ho-how do you know that I’m looking for him?”

He laughs and drops to one knee to gather his fallen things. “Just a little guess. A little bird told me that you’ve been working with him, so, yeah, I just thought that it might be a work thing.”

“Have you seen him anywhere then?” you sigh.

“I’m afraid not, Doc. I’ve been in the training room since dawn, haven’t seen him anywhere near here.” Namjoon smiles apologetically as he hangs his bag over his shoulder. “Have you checked the pool? He’s been wanting to practice diving since our last mission in Hawaii.”

You shake your head softly. “I haven’t, I’m gonna check there then. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Doc. You see, Jungkook is sometimes a little hard to talk to, looks distant, shy, and confused, maybe because he joined us at such an early age, but he is a nice guy.” Namjoon laughs again as he walks away from you, leaving you standing alone in the corridor.

I know.

Jungkook walks quickly to your office as soon as the elevator opens on your floor. He still doesn’t know what to say, but he just can’t let you escape him, avoid him again. He will use everything he’s got to at least explain a thing or two to you, and if the universe accedes, maybe he can tell you a little part of his feelings. Or maybe more.

Just one step at a time, Jungkook. You can do this.

It’s weird how he feels more nervous right now than when he goes to a mission. Usually he can just barge through any door without feeling any fear, but right now? He can feel how his heart almost bursts inside his chest. Is that because he doesn’t have his gun with him? Or is it because you are on the other side of the door?

He sighs. He doesn’t know anymore.

Maybe it is because he doesn’t know anything that is going to happen when he opens the door. Maybe it is because his brain can’t work for another plan B if his original plan fails. Maybe it is because it is a do or die for him, sounds a little extreme, but actually this is maybe the last chance for him to let his feelings take control of him.

Mustering all of his courage, he knocks the door and opens it slowly. “Excuse me?”

A chair suddenly rolls from the desk. “Hey JK. What’re you doin’ here?” Sehun asks and looks at him quizzically. “Is there something wrong with the report?”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly. “That’s not why I’m here.” He swallows dryly. “I’m looking for Y/N..”

“Y/N?” Sehun raises one of his eyebrows. “Funny you asked that. The fact is I haven’t seen her anywhere since I went to your office.”

“Really? Okay then, I’ll just search for her somewhere else.” Jungkook nods politely and walks to the door.

“Why don’t you just call her?” Sehun asks loudly.

Jungkook looks at him, and gives him a weak smile. Sehun doesn’t need to know that you’ve been avoiding Jungkook’s calls, right? “Thank you, I’ll try.”

After he closes the door, Jungkook walks to the stairwell next to him. With a sigh he sits on one of the stairs. He pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at it like it’s a foreign thing to him. His finger scrolls to the contacts and looks for your name.

There’s no specific thing to describe your name in his contact. And by specific, it means you aren’t saved in his contacts. The only thing that describes you is your phone number, which he memorizes already because of how much time he spent looking at it and how many times he tried to call you in the past few days.

He looks again in his contacts. It’s less than a dozen. The only contacts in his phone are his parents, his brother, and his best friends. That’s it.

He remembers when he received your message for the first time, he almost accidentally deleted it because he received it at the same time he received another spam message. Only God knows what would happen if he deleted it for real. Would you still get hurt? Would you still want to tease him? Would it still be the same?

Or would he still have this growing feeling inside him?

He sighs and then inputs your phone number, but before he dials it, he chooses another option.

Add to new contact.

Name: Y/N

Save?

Saved

Jungkook looks at his newly added contact and finally dials your number, hoping that you would accept it this time. Hoping that somehow his sincere feelings felt through the rings on your phone. Hoping that he can say the right things this time.

And after the seventh rings, the call went through.

Jungkook can finally hear your voice. “Hello, Y/N?” There’s a silence on the other end of the phone for a little while. It begins to make him more nervous. “Y/N?”

“Jungkook?” but it’s not your voice. It’s a familiar voice for him that he hears a lot.

Jungkook looks at the screen, makes sure he got the correct phone number. He furrows his eyebrow, confused at why you didn’t answer your own phone. “Jin-Hyung?”

“Right.” Jin laughs. “Y/N left her phone in the infirmary. She just went out to look for you.”

“Oh.” Jungkook sighs in relief. “Wh-what? She’s looking for me?”

“Yes, kid. God, I don’t know what your problem is to make both of you playing hide and seek in the middle of the day, but yes, she’s looking for you right now. But I don’t really know where she went.”

A little smile plastered on Jungkook’s face, somehow he feels a little happy that you finally decided to give him a chance to explain himself. And with only that fact, he won’t lose this chance. “Thanks Hyung! Talk to you later!”

“Yah-”

Jungkook hangs his phone up, and stands up immediately. But if he just walks around and looks for you in this big building, it is just a waste of time. There’s a fat chance that he won’t meet you at all, and in this crucial time for him, he can’t rely on fate alone.

So, he taps his phone again, scrolling to find a chatting platform that he rarely uses, and looks for a group chat with his best friends, typing quickly and hits the send button. This time he’s gonna rely on his friends.

Jungkook 00.23 PM: Have you seen Y/N?

You open the heavy door to the pool area with an afraid look on your face. What if Jungkook suddenly appears before you? What would you do? What would you say? What if he doesn’t want to see you?

But luckily (or unlucky for you), there’s no one in the pool. Everyone must be taking their lunch time, leaving this place completely empty.

You sigh and walk around, deciding to look at this place a little more. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook will suddenly pop out of nowhere, hugging you from behind like some of the rom-com movies that you usually watched in your teen years.

A sudden loud bang of a door opening filled the place, making you turn your head abruptly, hoping that the universe finally sends some signals to you. But instead, you just see a man pushing a cleaning supplies cart. You are disappointed.

Why do you even feel disappointed? There’s only a little chance for Jungkook to just walk through the door. You laugh to yourself and shake your head. Maybe I should just call him.

You pat your pants to locate your phone, and a little panic goes through you as you can’t find your phone. Where is it? Did I drop it? You try to remember when the last time you used your phone. You usually don’t behave like this; for you, your phone is one of your most important things. You never walk without a phone as you have everything you need in that mini gadget. Maybe this Jungkook thing is really bothering me.

You turn and walk to the door hurriedly, you need to find your phone back and also Jungkook. You can’t just wait mindlessly in here. Just when your hand reaches the door knob, you sense the cleaning man walking to you.

“Are you Doctor Y/N?”

You look at the man, sending him a polite nod. “Ah yes. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb your job here, I’m going now.” The man looks like he is in his early 30s. You can’t really see his face, since it’s hidden with his blue baseball cap. He wears a blue jumpsuit, a usual uniform for the cleaning service. But why does it look like it’s too big for him?

The man smiles back. “Oh my. That’s fine. Actually I have a package for you.” The man rummages through his cart, searching for something. “From a man, named Jungkook, I think? He’s been searching for you.”

“Jungkook?” ears perk in curiosity.

He smiles again, almost a grin. “Yes.” the man laughs at himself as he pulls a black metal thing from the cart and points it to you. “He’s been searching for you.”

You look at him with widened eyes. A gun. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, sweetie?” the man laughs maniacally, the sounds send shivers to your spine, making you step back unconsciously, your back hitting the door. You move your hand behind your back, trying to locate the door knob. “Uh-uh. Do not move. I don’t want to shoot your pretty face.”

Your heart races in fear., “Wh-what do you want from me?”

“The autopsy report, where is it?”

Your jaw drops as your mind wanders to the incident last Sunday, the one that probably will leave some scars on your hands. “Were you the one who trashed my office?”

“That’s right.” The man steps a little closer and pushes the gun closer to your face. “The report. Where do you keep it?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t have it.” Tears start threatening to fall from your eyes when the man seems unsatisfied with your answer and pulls your hair harshly. “I-I gave it up.”

He pulls your hair again until you meet his eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Or do you want me to start shooting everyone who comes into this room?” He laughs again. “You’re waiting for someone right? What if he suddenly pops in right now, and my hand just slips?”

You widen your eyes and you can see his eyes, and they don’t show that he’s lying. You can see how crazy he is. “I-I think it’s on the seventh floor..”

Just after he hears your answer, he releases your hair. With a sudden lack of grip, your feet give up, making you slump on the ground. “Good choice. Now stand up. We’re going to the seventh floor.”

“Bu-but I just told you. You should let me go.”

He scoffs. “And how would I know if you’re just lying to me? Stand up!” He grips your elbow harshly, forcing you to stand in front of him. You can feel his cold gun on your back, pushing to walk forward. “Don’t do anything funny, or I might shoot others. I only want this to be just the two of us.”

Your lips tremble and your throat goes dry. You wipe your tears and take a deep breath, trying to find your courage and strength to walk. You open the door with a heavy heart, wishing silently that you won’t meet anyone in the corridor and on your way up to the seventh floor.

You walk slowly to the elevator, with the man following behind you with his cart. Whispering right there to remind you that he has a gun. Your stomach twists. You want to run away. Your hands turn into fists, sending a light pain from the still-recovering wounds. Luckily, the pain happens to keep your mind intact, make you stay sane. But still, you can’t think of anything that you can do to save yourself.

Sure, you worked for months in an agent secret service. But that doesn’t mean you can do martial arts or guns. You didn’t receive any of that training. So even in this high-security building, you’re just an ordinary woman. An unlucky one.

Wait. High-security building?

You look left and right cautiously to find CCTV cameras above you, maybe someone will see this?

The man behind you laughs again. “You think I’d sneak here with no preparation? No one in the security room is going to watch this. I’ve taken care of them.”

You choke, your heart quickens. “You.. you. Wha-what? What did you do to them?”

“There’s no need for you to know, sweetie.” He laughs again. ”It’s just gonna make you feel bad.”

You bite your lips, trying your hardest to hold your tears. This man is sick. And just then, the elevator’s door opens.

You swallow dryly and walk inside the elevator. Sighing in relief again because there’s no one inside. You reach your hand shakily, trying to push the seven button on the elevator, but just as the door closes, a hand sneaks in and it opens again.

Your eyes widen with the sight of the man, panting before you. “Jungkook?” Why are you here?

Jungkook still holds open the door with his one hand as he controls his breaths. “We.. We need to talk.”

You steal a glance at the man behind you, who acts like wiping the interior of the elevator. Your hands turn clammy. Maybe Jungkook can help you. Maybe Jungkook can save you. If this is the chance that the universe sends to you, you should take it, right? It is a perfect opportunity for you to lose the man behind you.

But, what if he shoots someone? Or worse, what if he shoots Jungkook?

You take a deep breath, your eyes looking at your feet, afraid of looking at Jungkook’s face. “The-there’s nothing for us to talk about,” you say coldly, pushing his hand away from the door and pushes the close button.

But this time, Jungkook is persistent. He doesn’t want to let you slip away from him. Again. “No.” He reaches out his hand again to block the door from closing. “We have to talk. You need to hear my explanation, at least.”

“I don’t want to!!” You push him away again, this time on his body, until he steps backward from the elevator. You don’t even realize how your hands tremble against his hard chest, how tears fall on your face like a waterfall. “Please... Just leave me alone…”

You step back inside the elevator, pushing the close door button again. But this time, Jungkook lets you.

If this is the last time I can see him….

You lift your head up to take a glance of his face from the closing door. You can’t see him clearly as your eyes filled with tears, and just like that. You sob on the ground of the elevator after the door closes, clenching your chest to tone down the tightening pain you feel.

“Well-well. Such a good girl.” The man behind you claps his hand. “Don’t worry, he’ll forgive you after he knows what happened with you and what you did for him.” He reaches to touch your cheek, which makes you flinch.

“You’re just a sick bastard,” you hiss, glaring to him.

He chuckles at your response and hits your face with his gun. He grabs your chin in his hand tightly, forcing you to see his eyes. “You’re really testing my patience, aren’t you?”

You’re shaking in his hands, a throbbing pain on your forehead also makes it worse. He releases your chin harshly and forces you to stand up as the car approaches the seventh floor. He pushes his gun again harshly on your side, with his other hand holding you close to him. You can feel his nasty breath on your neck.

I’m so going to die.

As the door opens and you walk through, that thought keeps lingering on your mind and it’s growing bigger with each step you take, and you can’t seem to shake it off. You can’t do anything right now, the only thing you can do is cry in silence, hope that at least it can ease your mind for a bit. But it doesn’t.

Why?

Because you don’t fucking know where the report is, exactly.

Jungkook remains speechless, his hands trying to reach for your hands but they escape him, leaving him grabbing the empty air. He only sees you walk back inside the elevator and he’s sure that he sees your tears when your eyes meet him.

He doesn’t understand you at all. Why then did Jin tell him that you want to see him? And why now you don’t want to? His hands turn into fists. He bites his lips harshly in desperation. Where are you going anyway?

No, he can’t just stay here. He needs to chase you. He needs to talk to you. He can’t let you again. He reaches his hand to push the elevator button but he stops midway.

Wait, why is there a cleaning service today?

He furrows his eyebrow, deep in thoughts, trying to remember any details of the cleaning service he saw earlier. He only looks at the cleaning service for a bit, he knows that it is a man, but Jungkook can’t really see his face since he faced the wall. He remembers the man turned his face when the door was closing, and Jungkook can see a bit of his face under the baseball cap. And suddenly his face turns white. He curses quietly and runs to the stairwell, not bothering to take the elevator anymore.

Jungkook grabs his phone from his pocket and scrolls to find Jin’s contact as he runs multiple steps at once. This might be dangerous and he needs his other agents, if what he’s thinking is true. If what he’s been afraid of come into reality.

“Hey, Jungkook-ah. Wha-”

“I saw Baekhyun, hyung. He was in the elevator with Y/N. I think they went to the seventh floor.” He says it quickly, interrupting Jin. Jungkook silently hopes that Jin can hear it perfectly as it is muffled with his pants and breaths.

Jin’s breath hitches on the other side of the phone. “What? Are you sure?”

“I’m not sure, I just saw him at a glance. I’m heading up right now. Tell the others!”

“Alright! Be careful!” Jin says and ends the phone call.

Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket and runs again. He runs, and runs, and runs, ignoring the fact that his lungs start burning in his chest.

Please be okay.

Like a spell, he repeats it over and over again. Like a prayer, he repeats it sincerely in his heart over and over again. Like a song, it is played in his mind over and over again.

I’m not going to let him hurt her again.

Like a vow, he says with all of his life.

He’s going to protect the woman he loves.

The silence in the seventh floor sends an eerie feeling to you, making your heart racing faster. Only God knows where the hell is the others when you need them. You feel the cold gun on your side, pushing harshly against your body. It is one of the things that makes you aware of what you’re doing right now, besides a throbbing pain on your head.

Baekhyun pushes you forward again. “So, where is it?”

You freeze on the spot, your hands getting clammy. You swallow dryly. “I-I’m not sure…”

“You what?” His eyes widen in anger and he shoves your body into a wall, sending a blunt pain to your back. “You dare to lie to me?” His hands somehow move to your neck, strangling it tightly.

You’re struggling to break free from his grip, kicking right and there, using all of your strength to push his hands away. Your chest is burning due to the lack of oxygen. Tears fall from your eyes. You feel weaker the more strongly you fight back and your eyes get blurry. Your consciousness fades along with the slowing of your heart beat.

And suddenly, Baekhyun releases you as he stumbles. You drop to the ground as you struggle to breath as much as you can. You open your eyes slowly, trying to see what’s he doing and there you see he is pushed to the ground by a familiar man.

Jungkook.

Jungkook hits Baekhyun as hard as he can. Baekhyun is perplexed for a second but after he processes what’s happening he starts to fight back. Baekhyun kicks Jungkook in the stomach. The situation turns around as Jungkook is pushed under him. The sound of the fight blares in your ears, trying to wake you up. You wince in pain as you gather all of your strength to stand up. You need to find help.

“Run!” Jungkook yells as he holds Baekhyun’s body tightly.

Baekhyun snarls, using his elbow to hit Jungkook’s nose, pushing him away. Your hands shake as Baekhyun suddenly changes his view to you and charges you, not giving you a chance to run away. Baekhyun pulls his gun from his pocket and points it to you. Your feet freeze as your eyes meet Baekhyun’s. “Bitch.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight before him and curses himself. He can’t believe that Baekhyun has a gun with him and through his laxity, Jungkook didn’t strip it. Jungkook groans and stands quickly to run to you. Please be okay.

Just as Baekhyun pulls the trigger, Jungkook jumps in front of you. The bullets pierce his right chest and his stomach. His body falls to the ground because of the impact. The blood starts seeping from his body.

Your jaw drops. You’re familiar with the smell of blood. You’re familiar also with the smell of the gunpowder. And when both of them are somehow incorporated in the air, it gives you a brand new smell that’s sickening.

The tears still fall from your eyes as you flop beside Jungkook, hesitantly touching him. Just less than an hour ago, you were dreaming about meeting him in a romantic way, but now this is only tragic. sharp pain clutches your chest, making it hard for you to breathe again. Your thoughts are only filled with Jungkook but you can’t do anything.

But Jungkook is strong, maybe one of the strongest agents in the Company. So Jungkook sits up and moves you behind him, covering you perfectly.

“Kook…” you whisper in between sobs.

Jungkook keeps you behind him with his arms slightly trembling, gently soothing your skin. “I’m okay. Just stay behind me.” Even the slightest movement of his arms makes his chest hurt even more, but Jungkook hides it in his smile. The only thing in his head is how to make you get out of here safely, and he doesn’t care about the pain. Not when you are his priority.

Jungkook slowly lets go of his hands and stands up. You see how the blood spots are getting bigger and bigger, how it affects his posture as he loses his balance lightly. And after a few deep breaths, he puts on a stance, looking at Baekhyun with furious eyes.

Baekhyun snorts. “You think you can fight me bare-handed?” He still points his gun toward the both of you.

Without answering, Jungkook leaps forward to attack Baekhyun. It leaves Baekhyun caught off guard as he begins to fire the gun carelessly. Still, it grazes Jungkook’s body as he moves closer to him.

Not only that Jungkook is one of the strongest agents in the company, he has a killer kick. It’s the one that made the Company recruit him in the first place. He rarely uses it in his fights because he rarely has a chance to have hand-to-hand combat, and even if he had a chance, he doesn’t need to use it. And if Jungkook decides to use his best skills in this fight, there’s no way for Baekhyun to win. Jungkook begins to kick him again in his stomach and tries to target his hand.

And Baekhyun knows it too. So Jungkook begins to kick him again in his stomach and tries to target his hand. While Baekhyun stumbles, he fires his last bullet.

To your direction.

It’s too late for Jungkook to realize it, to jump again in front of you. As the bullet hits your shoulder, the new pain makes you fall back from the impact. Jungkook curses and turns his body to kick Baekhyun’s hand, sending the gun flying far from them and holding his hand to throw his body, locking him in between his legs, in a way that Baekhyun can’t move.

The doors and elevator open almost at the same time, and the agents barge in to arrest Baekhyun. Finally.

“Y/N!” Hoseok runs to you and shakes your shoulders. “Are you okay?” He helps you slowly sit up, carefully not to touch your wounds.

It’s over now… You sigh in relief, but your eyes turn panic when you see Jungkook’s shirt almost turn to pinkish, a mix of his blood and his sweat. “Kook…” and just as his name falls on your lips, Jungkook stumbles and drops to the ground.

Jimin and Taehyung move quickly to Jungkook to check on him. They look panicky as they move Jungkook’s body to a gurney with the help of paramedics. ”I’m going with him to the hospital.” Jimin says to Hoseok.

Hoseok nods and turns his face to you, his eyes falling on your bloodied shoulder. “Let’s get you to the hospital too.” He holds your elbow softly, helping you stand.

And just like that, everything turns black.

You open your eyes slowly. The harsh lights blind you and you blink as you adjust to it. You are met by the white ceiling above and white curtains all around you. The familiar smell of disinfectant steals into your nose, waking you up even more. You try to move your arms, to help you sit up, but there’s a shooting pain to your right shoulder. “Argh.”

“Yah. Y/N, you can’t move that carelessly!” Jimin yells as he puts his hand behind your back to help you.

You shake your head softly. “I’m okay. Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s in his room. The surgery went well. Don’t worry.” Jimin says reassuringly and pushes your shoulder lightly to make you stay in the bed.

But you refuse, swinging your legs slowly over the edge of your bed. “I want to see him..” You use your left hand to hold the IV poll. But as your feet land on the floor, your body stumbles. Luckily, Jimin was holding you from falling. “I’m okay, I’m okay…”

Jimin looks at you with worry in his eyes. He holds your elbow tightly. “Y/N, you don’t look so well. Just rest for a bit.”

You shake your head again, tears threatening to fall again. “Please… let me see him just for a bit…”

He sighs. He knows how stubborn you are, and you won’t back down. “Fine. Hold on to me, okay? Tell me if you have any pain.”

Luckily, Jungkook’s room is just a few rooms from yours. Just when you are about to open his door, you hear voices yelling inside.

“Yah! You can’t move!”

“Jungkook-ah! Are you crazy?”

“She’s fine! Just stay in the bed!”

Your eyes widen in panic. You let go of Jimin’s arms and rush forward inside Jungkook’s room. The only thing in your mind is Jungkook, and Jungkook only. You want to make sure he’s okay. You want to see him again.

And your eyes meet his.

The other agents hold him tightly as he tries to walk to the door. He looks pale and pained, there’s bruises in his body. You see the bandages sneaking out from his gown. And it just makes your heart break and relieved at the same time. “Kook?”

His doe eyes look you from head to toe, blinking his teary eyes to see you clearer. “Y/N?”

His voice.

Your favorite one.

The only thing that gives you strength to step forward. The only thing that can make you run. The only thing that can make your heart leap.

And just like that you run to him, run to his embrace, rushing forward clumsily while dragging the IV poll.

Jungkook holds you tightly to his chest, not even caring if you jostle his wounds. He doesn’t even care if he feels the pain, in fact, he is glad he can feel it. So that he knows that this is real. That you are wrapped in his arms, still living and breathing before him.

Jungkook lets your scent and warmth envelop his body and he can feel the relief straight into his heart. He takes your face in his hands, looking at it carefully. He gulps a little when he spots a little wound on your forehead and bruises on your neck. “Are-are you okay?”

You sniff and let your tears fall from your eyes as you nod weakly. “Are you okay? Let’s get you back to your bed.”

“I’m okay,” he giggles but lets you hold him and take him back to the bed. And when you stumble again because of his weight, the other agents hop in to help both of you. Jin and Taehyung hold Jungkook and walk him to his bed while Jimin helps you.

Hoseok smiles at you as he drags a chair next to the bed, “We’re gonna let you talk for a bit, okay? Don’t talk too long, you both need to rest.” He pushes the other agents outside, giving you and Jungkook privacy.

It’s silent again.

But it’s comforting. And you kinda miss it.

It’s funny how just with the presence of Jungkook can stir your heart completely. Just by the presence of him, he can turn your mood around.

You bite your lips and fiddle with your gown. “Thank you for saving me. It must have hurt a lot.”

Jungkook smiles and reaches your face to wipe your tears away. “I’m sorry I didn’t come faster. You must have been frightened.”

And there it breaks you. Jungkook is the one who hurt the most, and yet he is the one who feels sorry. He is in pain, but he still thinks of you. What can you do to deserve to be with this nice man? No, you don’t deserve it all. And it just aches your heart even more. “What are you talking about….” you sob and turn away from him as you try your hard to stop the tears falling from your eyes.

Jungkook reaches your hand softly. “Please don’t turn away from me.. Please?” His other hand moves to pat your head lovingly. “Can we please have that talk now?”

You pout. “No. You need to rest. We can talk about it anytime after you get better.”

“I don’t want to. I have to tell you right now.” He takes a deep sigh. “I’ll go crazy if I keep this any longer.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry for what I did to you in your apartment. I was drunk and made stupid mistakes. I’m sorry.”

You nod quickly. “Yes, I know and I’ve forgiven you. Now, you should have some rest…”

“I didn’t know why I did it, but just so you know, I’ve always wanted to kiss you. I think I felt too rushed, but I didn’t do it just to tease you or make fun of your feelings. It’s jus-”

“Wait, what?” You look at him puzzled and raise one of your eyebrows. “You-you wanted to kiss me?”

He tilts his head at your response. “Yeah?”

“But, why?”

He takes a close look at your face, and swallows dryly. “Because I like you, Y/N.”

There is a pregnant silence as you blink your eyes, processing the sudden bomb of information. “Huh?” You scratch the back of your head confusedly. “You like me? Since when?”

He blushes as he smiles. “I don’t know. It just happened, I guess… Wait, you didn’t know?”

“Duh, this is an expression of a person who knew about it,” you say sarcastically as you point to your face.

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “I really thought I made myself really clear. Even the others knew about it!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Anyway, I just felt so rushed because you’re gonna leave soon and I thought I’m gonna lose my chance. Also it might be because these feelings are little new for me, so I was a little confused. But I-”

“But I’m still with this Company for another 4 months…”

It’s his turn to process the information and then his face turns red as he lets go of your hand. “I thought… I’m just… hmmm. I’m gonna take my confession back then…”

“No! I won’t let you take it back.” You reach for his hand, holding it tightly. You look at him with a determination in your eyes and smile widely from ear to ear. “Thank you, I’m happy to hear it.”

Jungkook replies with a smile too as he sighs in relief. “But still, I have to say it again properly someday.”

You giggle as you squeeze his hand. “Sure, let’s take this slowly. We have a lot of time.”

You both hold each others’ hands with smiles on your faces. No word exchanged, as you both know how happy you are. How relieved you are to finally hold his warm hand again. How excited you are to guess what will happen to both of you. How ecstatic you are as you feel your heart races inside your chest.

The air freshener sprays in the corner of the room, breaking the silence between both of you. The scent of vanilla disperses in the air. Filling the room with nothing but sweet scent. Usually, you always stay away from the sweet type of smell and stick with anything musky, floral, or maybe just natural ones. But now, this specific type of smell becomes your favorite one. The sweetest scent to remind you about him. The sweetest scent that you can have everyday without feeling sick.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, “I know, you said to take this slowly. But I just can’t help it…” He looks at you with pinkish cheeks as he squeezes your hand. “Can-can I kiss you?”

You reply with nothing but a smile and nod. You lean in a little so he can be closer to you just for a little bit. And just like that, he takes your face in his hands slowly and connects his lips with yours.

And you can feel it, how your hearts are connecting too.

Go check the other series because *sst... It’s all connected!

Series Masterlist: The Company

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast @w0lfqu33n @gee-nee @jaienn @nctssidehoe @codeinebelle @kali-20 @mygalaxysupernova @jeoncookie-bts @kookunot @1-in-abillion @beingbeings @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @yiyi4657 @jinsalpaca @giadalin @spring2787 @drmrastraea @katbonv @fluffyjoons @baebyjoonie

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explosionshark · 3 years

Note

how to live here!

here's a special deleted scene that was supposed to go in one of the chapters after rachel and chloe start fighting, but i never really found a place where it made sense. but i always liked it too much to delete it.

The first time Chloe had talked about hanging out in a junkyard, Max had kind of assumed she’d been joking.

She’s been here a few times already since her return to Arcadia Bay, but the novelty of it still hasn’t worn off. Chloe doesn’t seem to mind, letting her wander off, camera in hand, to explore and take photos by herself until she’s halfway through a roll of film and finally satisfied.

Max lets the sound of breaking glass lead her back to Chloe and snaps one more picture. Chloe, broken off hockey stick poised at the highest arc of a big swing, aimed at the sun-bleached head of a mannequin perched atop a splintered milk crate like a fucked up golf ball on a tee.

The arc of the swing is completed. The head goes flying with a sharp crack, landing in a pile of scrap a few feet away. Chloe holds the stick up over her head and cheers.

“You get that, Max?” she calls over her shoulder. “One for the highlight reel.”

“Got it,” Max confirms, reaching up to withdraw the Polaroid as it’s ejected from the camera. She closes the distance between them to show Chloe the shot.

“Sick,” Chloe says, and then twirls the stick in her fingers. “Y’know, I never used to allow press in here before, but maybe that was a mistake. A few more like that and maybe I can finally catch some attention from the big leagues.”

“I can’t imagine they can ignore skills like yours for very long,” Max grins, leaning up on her tiptoes and craning her neck to try to spot the mannequin head in the garbage.

Chloe grins again and mimes another swing. “Wanna take a shot? Ride out my hot streak?”

“I’m good,” Max says.

Chloe nods and shrugs and swings again abruptly, for real, putting the end of the hockey stick through the screen of a boxy old TV on the ground suddenly and loudly enough to make Max jump.

“You sure?” She props a boot on the corner of the TV to hold it in place as she yanks the stick loose. “It’s hella cathartic. You’ve always struck me as having more rage than you’re willing to own up to.”

“Do I really?” Max asks, a little alarmed.

“Maybe I’m projecting,” Chloe concedes.

They wander further, Max trailing behind as Chloe beats the ever-loving shit out of anything even vaguely breakable in her path.

“Remember when you actually played?” Max asks, after the fifteenth minute of uninterrupted smashing.

Chloe pauses, turning on her heel and drawing the bandage on her arm across her forehead to wipe away a bead of sweat. “Oh hell yeah. They called me The Destroyer.”

“No they didn’t,” Max rolls her eyes. “Only you called yourself that.”

“Me and both our dads,” Chloe points out. “Yours even made a sign.”

“Oh yeah,” Max laughs. “Y’know, I think you were the hockey hooligan kid he always wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved when I quit the team.”

Her dad was a huge hockey fan and had been elated when she and Chloe had agreed when he showed them the newspaper ad he’d found seeking players for the local youth hockey team. William and their mothers had been a little more hesitant, Max remembered, but no one enough to really object to their joining.

Chloe took to it immediately, aggressive, competitive, and already more naturally athletic than Max had ever been. Max’s tenure was only a week long, but she’d remained a devoted fan of the team long after, going along with her parents to every game, home and away.

“Relieved, I think,” Chloe speculates. “You were a really small twelve year old.”

“I was appropriately sized for twelve,” Max protests. “You were tall.”

“Pint-sized,” Chloe teases. “Microscopic. Besides, you never had the heart for it. The bloodlust.”

“I liked the skating part. But yeah, you always had more fun with it than me. Did you ever get back to sports?”

Chloe shakes her head, quick and jerky, almost offended. “I never liked sports. I liked hockey ‘cause you guys would always come to my games and stuff. But then…after…”

Chloe missed the first couple weeks of practice, after William had died. It was Max’s dad that got her to go back, at Joyce’s insistence, hoping that the sport could be an outlet, that trying to preserve as much normalcy as possible would help Chloe deal with her grief.

Max and her dad had stayed in the bleachers through that first practice without William. Chloe’s play had been sloppier, and she’d left the ice early, face splotchy and red, thick hot tears running down her face into her jersey. It hadn’t gotten easier from there. It made sense that Chloe had stopped going entirely once Max’s family had moved.

“Anyway, can you even imagine me playing for Blackwell?” Chloe scoffs, brings the hockey stick down on the windshield of an old beat up car. The first blow sends a spiderweb of cracks all through the glass. The second penetrates, a small, fist-sized hole. The third, fourth, and fifth obliterate it completely.

Max closes her eyes, chases the images of a young, grief-stricken Chloe from her mind with this new fantasy. Chloe, hair undyed, strutting through the halls in a red and white letterman jacket. Chloe doing keg stands with Logan and Zach. Chloe with girls like Victoria and Juliet hanging off her arms. Chloe completely and totally ignoring a nerd like her.

“Okay, it’s a little weird,” Max admits, feeling a little embarrassed for the irrational churning in her gut. “You’ve never really been a joiner, huh?”

“Organized sports are so not punk rock,” Chloe says obnoxiously.

“It’s kind of hard to imagine you at Blackwell at all,” Max admits. “I wish I’d come back sooner. Y’know, before you left.”

Chloe’s quiet and Max knew it was a risk to go there at all, but it feels too true to keep to herself so she keeps speaking.

“I didn’t choose to be gone, but,” is it brave or stupid to do this now, actually? Has Chloe been waiting for an apology or will this just make things needlessly awkward and uncomfortable and painful? “I mean I wish I’d handled it differently. That we’d talked more while I’d been away.”

“Yeah,” Chloe shrugs. It feels like Max is on the verge of losing her, so she hurries on before the silence between them stretches too far.

“Can I be honest with you?” Max asks, stomach twisting in knots.

Chloe raises an eyebrow and nods for her to continue.

“I kind of thought,” she pauses and winces. “I mean, I was a little afraid that after I left you just. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That you’d replace me.”

“Max, what the fuck?” Chloe lets the words out in a harsh exhale and Max knows that tone of voice. Knows she’s pissed off for real, now.

“I know,” Max cringes, scrubbing a hand down her face. “But, I mean, you were always the cool one, right? And you were going into high school and I was still sleeping with a teddy bear and—”

“This is such bullshit,” Chloe’s voice cracks and Max was not expecting that. “You’re not just— You can’t just replace a best friend! I fucking needed you. I was so… I needed you so much and you hung me out to dry because you were scared I’d stop thinking you were cool?”

“No,” Max hurries to clarify, feeling appropriately breathless for the desperate, drowning sensation overwhelming her. “No, not like that. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I just kept putting it off, y’know? Like with homework. Remember how many times my mom had to bail me out because I’d wait too long on finishing a project and it wouldn’t be ready by the due date? Only no one could bail me out this time. And the longer I waited, the worse I felt, the more sure I was that you hated me, that you’d scream at me and tell me to stay out of your life. And I was too scared to face that so I…”

“I never hated you,” Chloe says, face caught somewhere between fury and despair. “Fuck, for the longest time all I wanted was to leave here, to be where you were instead.”

“The night you called me,” Max cuts in gently, proud at least when her voice doesn’t shake, “when you tried to run away, I was so scared for you. And I felt guilty because I realized I was wrong, that you still wanted to be my friend, and I knew I didn’t deserve it. I cried myself sick on the ride down with my mom to pick you up. It really freaked her out. But when we got there you just hugged me and you let me hold your hand the entire way back to Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe stays silent, chewing her lip hard enough to make Max wince.

“And even after, even though we were talking again the entire time I was away I’d think about being back here instead. I think about all the years I missed with you and I get mad because it feels kind of like my fault. Like if I’d tried harder it wouldn’t have taken this long. But I can’t fix that now, I know, I’m just glad we’re here now.”

Chloe shakes her head, rough, and throws the beat up hockey stick into a pile behind her. “Max, you fucking—”

She cuts herself and stomps over and Max isn’t sure what she was expecting, but she’s definitely surprised when Chloe wraps her arms around her, drags her close until there’s almost no space between them.

As tight as the hug is, Chloe’s hands hovering over her back are gentle. She’s quiet but her breathing’s rough. It takes a long time for her to speak again; when she does her voice is shaky, quiet. “I never, ever hated you, but I was pissed at you for a really long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Max tries to say but Chloe squeezes her tighter until she falls quiet.

“I got tired of it,” Chloe says. “And it wasn’t fair, either. Not really. We were just kids. God, I fucked so many things up so much worse than that. You don’t know how bad. If you did, you’d think I’m so pathetic. You’d hate it.”

“Chloe Price, you’re so many things, but pathetic has never been one of them,” Max insists, a little startled by the steel in her voice. Chloe tenses in her arms, but doesn’t move away so Max continues, gentler, “I wish I’d been here more. I know you weren’t alone the whole time but still, if I could go back and change anything it’d be trying harder to be a bigger part of your life. It’d be not letting it take so long to get here.”

It’s stupid, she knows, it’s ridiculous to think she could have prevented any of the hard knocks Chloe had taken in her absence but the thing is she’ll never know and Max thinks that she’ll probably always feel responsible somehow.

“God, imagine if we’d had a few years together at Black-Hell,” Chloe says and releases her, finally. She stays close, pushes some hair out of Max’s face. “We would have gotten into so much trouble. Me, you and…” She trails off with a wince but doesn’t linger. “You could have cheated off my science papers. I’d trade you rides around the Bay for homework.”

“Hey,” Max laughs. “Presumptuous. How do you know I would have compromised my morals like that?”

“Oh, you would have,” Chloe says, laugh all low and breathy. “When have you ever been able to say no to these baby blues?”

She bats her lashes facetiously, but the blush staining Max’s face is very real. “Okay, whatever. What else would we have done?”

“Oh, pranks,” Chloe says. “No doubt. We would have pranked it up so hard on those nerds. I always had this idea about semi-permanent hair dye and Victoria’s shampoo bottles, but I never lived in the dorms. And for some reason, Rachel refuses to be my inside man on this one.”

“I’d be down,” Max blurts out, not sure what the sudden pained look on Chloe’s face could have been leading to, but desperate to head it off.

“Wait, for real?” Chloe asks, appropriately distracted and Max realizes suddenly that her hypothetical assent to collusion had just been offered in practice.

“Uh, I mean—”

“No take-backs,” Chloe crows, gleefully. “Holy shit, dude, yes. Okay, I’ve got it worked out pretty well, this is something I’ve been sitting on for a few years at least. First, we’ll need a distraction…”

Chloe’s plan is elaborate, but thorough, and by the time she’s done laying out the details Max isn’t sure she’ll be able to follow through, but she does know that whatever lingering doubts about their friendship she’d had this morning were founded in one-sided insecurity.

“Let me sleep on it,” she says, finally.

“Max,” Chloe whines. “You promised.”

“I did not.”

“I mean, practically.”

“No, I didn’t.”

It’s almost like being a kid again, arguing about something pointless under the midday sun, a little dehydrated but having too much fun together to do something sensible like go back inside. Max has missed this for so long.

She’s deliriously happy she won’t ever have to miss it again.

#life is strange #pricefield #how to live here #ask games #explosionfic

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mca-attack21 · 4 years

Text

Surprise (Part 2)

Sorry guys, apparently this part got deleted. You can find part 1: here and the final part: here as for the masterlist containing more of my writing look: here. This is just the beginning for Merlin imagines on this blog, I just watched the show for the first time and in love.

Before long, Gaius came in to check on you. He quickly grew concerned as there were no signs of improvement. In fact, you seemed worse than when you were brought in earlier. He quickly checked your bandages and instead of red, your blood was seemingly black.

“Merlin, take a look at this,” Gaius summoned the young warlock.

“What does it mean?”

“It means that this was no ordinary wound. You need to get Arthur at once.”

Merlin made his way into the meeting room and was trying to figure out the best way to get Arthur’s attention when he caught his eye and caused the king to stop in the middle of his sentence. “Is Y/n awake?”

Merlin just managed to shake his head, “Gaius needs you at once Sire, it is urgent.”

“Excuse me,” Arthur said to his knights and counsel members before all but running up the stairs to his chambers.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It seems that she is getting worse. Her wound is infected and it is spreading. Her pulse and breathing have slowed and she is on the border of fever. Though it is not from the wound itself, but rather I think what dealt the wound. I need to see the dagger to see if we are dealing with a poison or some form of sorcery, Sire. Until then, I’m afraid that there is little I can do.”

“Of course. Merlin, go fetch it, I put it in my saddle-bag.”

“Right away Arthur.”

When Merlin grabbed it, he could feel the power it possessed. He quickly brought it up to Gaius whose face paled at the sight of it, which Arthur noticed.

“What is it Gaius? Have you seen it before?”

“I’m afraid I have Sire, it is the blade of Karaus an evil sorcerer who had it forged in the dragon’s breath and enchanted so that any any injury caused by the blade no matter how minor would be fatal to any enemy alive or dead.”

“So there is no cure? She is going to die and there is nothing we can do about it?” Arthur asked quickly wiping away a stray tear.

“The only way to save her is to destroy the dagger itself. But to do that you would need another blade forged in the fire’s breath and a powerful sorcerer. Even then, she doesn’t have much time. All I can do is try to keep her comfortable. I’m truly sorry Sire.”

“How long does she have?” Arthur asked never taking his eyes off you.

“2-3 days at most.”

“I can ride and try to find Dragoon, he has helped us before. If anyone knows where to find such a blade he will,” Merlin spoke up already beginning to hatch his own plan.

“I will come with you, we can leave at first light,” Arthur spoke.

“I don’t think that is wise Arthur.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I fail and Y/n dies, you should be at her side. I don’t think you would ever forgive yourself if you weren’t.”

“I suppose you are right, but how will you even know where to find the sorcerer?” Arthur asked.

“I can reach out to some of my contacts, one of them is bound to know where he is staying these days.”

“Okay, take anything you need Merlin. Promise the sorcerer anything he wants.”

“Yes Arthur.”

---

Later, Gaius reentered his chambers to find Merlin packing. “Where exactly are you planning to get such a sword? And the spell to break the enchantment?”

“The sword is easy, I just have to travel to the Lake of Avalon and retrieve Excalibur. As for the spell, I was hoping you could help me with that one.”

“Avalon is at least a two days journey, and that is with no hindrances, I don’t know if Y/n will hold out that long,” Gaius reminded.

“It would be a two day journey if I were going by horse. I plan to use a much faster mode of transportation,” Merlin smirked.

“Kilgharrah,” Gaius realized.

“Y/n saved his life once, he owes her a debt,” Merlin explained,

“Do you have any idea what spell it will take to destroy the blade?”

“Go grab me that book over there, the one with the black binding.”

After searching the pages Gaius found what he was looking for. “This spell is meant to take the enchantment off of any object. So you cast this spell, it makes the blade a weapon forged in the dragon’s breath, then you take Excalibur and destroy it once and for all.”

“And then Y/n will be fine?”

“Once the blade is destroyed, so is its magic. The queen will begin to recover immediately.”

“Okay, sounds great. Just another day in the life of Merlin,” Merlin joked.

“There is something else that you need to know,”

“What is it Gaius?”

“This blade is powerful in a way that no other weapon will ever be. And it is evil. It will do everything in its power to draw you to evil as you carry it and will fight against its destruction.”

“Anything else?” Merlin asked sarcastically.

“No, that’s it.”

Merlin had trouble sleeping that night. He was feeling overwhelmed by the task ahead. Normally in these situations, you were the one he would turn to. You know about his magic and had always been there for him. He eventually overcame his restlessness and drifted off. The next morning Gaius woke him at first light. He quickly grabbed his bag before promising Gaius that he would be careful.

He decided to go up to see you, just incase something were to go wrong. It was clear to him that your fever had set in sometime during the night. He set a his bags down and went to get a cool rag to place on your forehead. He then repositioned Arthur who had fallen asleep with his head on the side of your bed and covered him up with a blanket.

Both very drowsy and disoriented, Arthur was brought out of his sleep. “Merlin?”

“Yes Arthur?”

“How is she?”

“The fever has set in, other than that there is no change.”

“Is everything prepared for your journey?”

“Yes, I am just about to leave.”

“I can’t express how much this means to me.”

“Anything to get a day away from you,” Merlin joked.

“I’m serious Merlin. It kills me not to be riding out with you. But if I did have to send anyone, I am glad it is you. I trust you will do everything in your power to save her. Either way I will forever be indebted to you.”

“Thank you Arthur, I won’t let you down, I promise.”

And with that he set off. He made his way out to meet Kilgharrah, trying to mentally prepare for the journey ahead.

“Δράκος Χρειάζομαι βοήθεια για την Y/n που πεθαίνει” he spoke.

He was not forced to wait long before Kilgharrah touched down.

“Hello, young warlock. Tell me what happened and how I can help Y/n,” the dragon spoke.

“She was stabbed by Karaus’ dagger. I am going to destroy it and need to get to Avalon. Gaius believes she only has a day or two at most, which is why I called you. I need a ride. I know that Y/n once saved your life, please, help me save hers,” Merlin pleaded.

“Hop on,” Kilgharrah said without hesitation. And thus their journey began. The flight was quiet. Merlin was simply taking in the sights. From that high in the air everything seemed so small, so insignificant. Yet at the same time, it was breathtaking and interconnected.

Meanwhile:

“What do you mean that they failed to kill Arthur?” Morgana demanded.

“Your men attacked Arthur and Y/n as they were alone, but were taken out,” Agravaine revealed.

“Fools! All it took was the smallest of papercuts and Arthur would be dead,” Morgana yelled.

“All is not lost, My lady, for the queen was stroke my the dagger. Arthur is distracted, now is a great time to strike Camelot.”

“Where is the dagger now?” Morgana asked.

“The king’s servant took it, he is trying to find some sorcerer to break its spell.”

“We need to find the dagger.”

“We need to take this opportunity to attack Camelot.”

Morgana used her power to choke Agravaine and force him to listen, “That dagger is one of the few things that can kill Emrys. And, it can kill me. We will focus on nothing else until it is back in my possession.”

“Yes, my lady, I will send my men out at once.”

Back in Camelot:

“How is she Gaius?”

“Her fever is dangerously high Sire and none of my potions seem to be having any effect. I am afraid that she will not meet the sunrise. Right now all we can do is to keep her warm and hope Merlin is successful.”

Arthur stared down at you. He couldn’t comprehend how so much had gone wrong in a span of 24 hours. Yesterday, he was the happiest he had been in a long time and now he felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down.

The thought of never hearing your laugh again or seeing your smile. The thought of ruling Camelot without you by his side, it was almost too much to bear.

Arthur re-wet the rag before crawling in the bed beside you and carefully pulling you into his lap and readjusting the blankets. He placed the rag on your already damp forehead and stayed in that position just holding you and taking comfort in your presence.

Meanwhile with Merlin:

“This is as far as I can take you young Warlock, I will wait here for your return.”

“Thank you Kilgharrah,” Merlin said already on his way to the lake.

“Merlin,” the dragon called, “the battle for Y/n’s life now truly begins, her fate is in your hands,”

Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgement and began his journey forward. But even as he entered the wooded area, the path became darker. His legs grew heavy and his mind tired.

“The dagger possesses great power, a power that could build your own Emrys,” a voice filled Merlin’s head.

“It is a dark power and it needs to be destroyed,” Merlin shot back.

“Think of the potential, it could be used to take out Morgana. To take out anyone who you deem a threat to Camelot. All it takes is the smallest of pricks,” The force showed him images of him standing over Morgana.

“No one should have that much power,” Merlin reasoned.

“Maybe others shouldn’t, but you Emrys are a great sorcerer, you could manage it. You could use it for good, to protect Arthur and your destiny,” the Force persuaded.

“Y/n is dying,” Merlin replied as he pushed forward.

“You are too late, She is already dead,” the Force showed Merlin Y/n dying in Arthur’s arms and his reaction.

“No, she isn’t. You’re lying”

“Keep the dagger and seek your revenge on Morgana. End her plight once and for all.”

“No. There will be another way, a better way,” Merlin said as his head was now pounding. This force was pushing back against him with everything it had. So he retaliated with positive thoughts, memories of his friends and family, of Camelot, of Arthur, of Y/n, of his dream for the future of Albion.

As Merlin looked up he noticed that he had made it to the water’s edge. He set it on the ground and summoned his strength before reciting the spell that Giaus had given him. As soon as that was done, he turned to the lake where Freya was already offering Excalibur. Merlin quickly took the sword and destroyed the dagger which disappeared into black smoke. With it, an enormous weight seemed to lift off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said to Freya as he tossed her back the sword. His journey through the woods to Kilgharrah was much quicker this time round.

“Congratulations Merlin, what you have just done was no easy task, it took incredible strength and courage,” the dragon spoke.

“I could not have done it without you my friend, I just hope that we made it in time.”

#king arthur x reader #king arthur imagine #king arthur imagines #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur pendragon imagines #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin imagines #bbc merlin imagine #merlin imagine #merlin imagines #Merlin #bbc Merlin

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years

Note

Oh lore?? I read your post on Dainsleif and BOY it gave me a lot to think about dsfjgkd

Along the same vein, what do you think of the relationship between the unknown god and Kaenri'ah? In Albedo's trailer they seemed to reference two new elements (time and being) and if perhaps the unknown god is the god of time, then does Khemia make use of "being" in its creation of life?

In Mihoyo's other game (honkai) they introduced a new "type" about halfway through the story which seems to me to be similar to the abyss in Genshin. The quanta type is independent of the three types that were present from the beginning of the game and it's tied to an abyss style region called the Sea of Quanta. Maybe I'm reading too much into it and they don't plan to imitate what they did in Honkai but?? Time and being as new "elements" introduced a few years into the game seems possible at least?? Maybe they're exclusive to delusions bc there's only the seven Archons at this time so no one can grant time/being visions lol

Djfkdj I hope this was at least slightly understandable I love looking into lore especially for things I write about!! I'll end this now before it gets too long lmao the new tumblr asks give me too much power XD

TUMBLR DELETED MY REPLY AHHHHH I HAD TO RE-WRITE EVERYTHING. THAT’S WHY I’M LATE TO THE PARTY. I’M SO SORRY CATTY 😭

---

Major spoilers for Khaenri’ah and minor spoilers for the unknown god

:DD I’m glad you read my word vomit haha. I love talking about lore so much, ty for enabling me.

What do you think of the relationship between the unknown god and Khaenri’ah?

The logical side of my brain thinks:

They either have nothing to do with each other and Mihoyo really likes using the same star for everything and Khaenri’ah just happens to live in the void or sky so the easiest way to distinguish citizens from there is the star (or it was just hot to put star pupils in and you know what, they were right).

Or there’s some sort of connection between the Eclipse dynasty that ruined Khaenri’ah and the unknown god. Since genshin really likes to do that (see Zhongli and everyone calling him Morax before 1.1 dropped).

Re-watching the prologue cutscene and “we will be reunited” (Gonna refer to this a WWBR) Aether drew the same two stars into the sand which makes me believe that either a. stars literally have nothing to do with anything and Teyvat only knows how to draw one star (which doesn’t hold up well considering Mona’s outfit and pin) or b. there’s some kind of connection there. The way Paimon phrases her question she says:

“But when you wanted to leave and go onto the next world your path was blocked by an unknown god?”

It implies that Aether and Lumine have already travelled through Teyvat since we see two yellow stars travel over Liyue and Mondstadt. I know Aether was sent into some sort of deep sleep and only now awoke and met Paimon (since in the trailer we can see the lantern festival and the genshin upload was in march (chinese new year is in feb) but I’m not super sure on these details but I’m pretty sure it’s canon that this happened based on WWBR).

Then when the unknown god appears and the same 3 red stars appear [tumblr throws a fit when I try and upload this]

She refers to us as Outlanders and calls herself

“The sustainer of heavenly principles. The arrogation of mankind ends now.”

This could be a reference to “being” that was in the Albedo trailer while Dainsleif is “time” since time is "not something he lacks". If we’re going on the theory that Dainsleif is actually a god then maybe they are fighting? Or in some type of push and pull war. It would make sense since the Unknown God believes in heavenly principles (so the rules either set by Celestia or Gods themselves) and believes mankind is arrogant and wishes to either destroy it or remove it entirely. The complete opposite of Dainsleif who believes in mankind and hates anything relating to the Archons.

Or dainsleif has nothing to do with the unknown god and is just a final challenge to the player who will then face off against the Unknown God.

In Albedo's trailer they seemed to reference two new elements (time and being) and if perhaps the unknown god is the god of time, then does Khemia make use of "being" in its creation of life?

In this theory, this would make the Unknown God the god of time, which is also equally as valid. Since she does talk about time and how the arrogation of mankind ends now. I think it’s right to assume that Khemia makes use of being in its creation of life since we see Albedo talk about chalk and turning things from “nothing” (it’s not really nothing, he’s still using something or the “being” in order to transform it) to something.

If Dainsleif uses Khemia or even created it then taught it to the people of Khaenri’ah to help them survive in their archonless land, that could be a valid reason why he believes in the strength of mankind. Since the unknown god’s power seems to consume the person trapped within (as we see in the prologue). Plus in WWBR we see first hand how destructive that power is. This could also be the time where Dainsleif lost faith or hated the celestial beings.

---

In WWBR, according to the wiki it states that our sibling was taken to another point in time, in an unknown location. But this event leads the sibling (Lumine) to become the leader of the Abyss Order.

Lumine says:

“But until the abyss has engulfed the thrones, my war with destiny will see no end.”

Lumine seems to know about the archons and the abyss mages follow her so it’s safe to assume that the “abyss” she refers to is either something entirely new or the red blocks we see here. It seems as if she’s trying to change destiny which could be why Dainsleif wants to save her.

I will say right now, I really hope the theory that Paimon is secretly the unknown god doesn’t come true. I know it’s funny and I would enjoy seeing our emergency food pull a turned table on us but unless there are more instances where it’s hinted or it’s handled really well I would not like it. I just finished a manga and I felt like I was watching 20M plot twists happen in the span of 3 pages. I would totally be okay if the unknown god and paimon were somehow related (I can understand that) but I unless it’s handed really well or as the story progresses and we get more info on paimon. it would just be really out of left field. I haven’t seen any theories on this and I honestly try and stay away from lore posts until I’ve finished mine because I feel that might make my ideas biased.

The “everything must be connected into some kind of plotline or I will make it a plotline” brain thinks:

Now, this is just be spit balling and making up my own headcanons with no lore to go off on. This is pure indulgent stuff with no research to back it up besides very loose threads.

I’d like to believe that since the Eclipse Dynasty was the last dynasty before Khaenri’ah fell. That might be what is being depicting above in WWBR. Perhaps khemia backfired or the unknown god turned against the people for their arrogance (I’m not sure if people know the myth but in short terms, a giant stole fire to help the people who were cold. He was punished for going against the gods and saving the people, this could be similar to Dainsleif).

Perhaps Lumine and Aether had stopped this event from happening and as they were about to leave, the unknown god appears and separates them for their arrogant actions against the Gods and sends Lumine back to the past. Without her brother she ended up failing in saving Khaenri’ah. Or, the image we see is actually the future and she goes back in time to try and prevent that event from occurring, still trying to beat destiny but this time in the future.

Or another idea, Lumine has only seen the evil that’s depicted and hasn’t personally met any of the archons. We actually got to meet Venti and Zhongli so we obviously want to protect them from Lumine’s point of view, that might not be the same so she aligns with the abyss order that tries to control Dvalin. So her goal is to somehow defeat the archons and that could be why the Cyro archon is trying to collect them all in her war of peace.

Honkai and quanta

It’s kinda funny but there’s no reliable wiki source for this sea of quanta like there is for genshin, or at least I couldn’t find anything. I think they might nod at certain things between the two but I think it’s totally fine to believe they might do some sort of crossover and take some inspiration. We have Mona who was able to read the stars and Scaramouche who said the sky was a giant hoax so I think time and being becoming new elements is very possible. But I don’t really know a lot about Honkai so I can’t really say too much about it haha.

---

Yep no worries, it was fun talking about some more lore and if you have any more I’d love to hear them. Haha, honestly pop off I love getting long asks. As always, it’s nice seeing you again catty 💕💕

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin lore #genshin impact lore #genshin spoilers #genshin impact spoilers #genshin theory #genshin impact theory #genshin dainsleif #genshin impact dainsleif #genshin unknown god #genshin impact unknown god #dainsleif #genshin khaenri'ah #genshin lumine #genshin aether #genshin impact lumine #genshin impact aether #lumine

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dee-the-red-witch · 3 years

Photo

OK, I’m gonna take a minute here while getting my brain re-set to sit back down and start in on the manuscript again. And I want to preface this all with a BIGASS disclaimer: I DO NOT THINK OR CONSIDER THAT THE POSTER WHO PUT THESE TAGS ON A REBLOG FROM ME WISHED ME ANY KIND OF ILL WHATSOEVER. IN FACT, I’M PRETTY SURE THEY WERE TRYING TO PAY ME A COMPLIMENT.

That said, I’ve been seeing this more and more. On here, on twitter, on Fb, everywhere. And it’s happening more and more as I post about more than just part of what I do as a dayjob, and as I’m trying to leverage back into doing more than just leather. ...y’all do get that my leatherwork and maskmaking is not the sum and total of me as a person, right? I mean, this is not meant as a humblebrag, or any kind of brag, just a resume list, because I’m all over the fucking map: In high school, it was debate and drama. Even ended up at State and Nationals for those to some degree.

After that, in between and during college, it was working haunted houses, studying english, history, and theatre, and then putting together a theatresports team that ran for two years (we were groaningly terrible, exactly the kind of humor geeky/nerdy theatre kids put together and it was awesome and these days I cringe at some of the jokes we used to do. I think our biggest audience was maybe thirty people.) Then it was moving here, going to Cornish for theatre, summarily dropping out of Cornish after a semester of realizing there was no way I could afford to stay in school and survive without being homeless on part time minimum wage, not to mention lots of disagreement with the whole program. Cue being a twentysomething in seattle in the early aughts- doing lots of small theatre, joining a Rocky Horror troupe, weird citylife adventures and a lot of shite underpaid jobs. Also figuring out I was queer in there. Leather didn’t happen until after I’d met my fiancee and we’d moved in together, when I got hit with a seven-month stint of unemployment, and with loads of boredom on my hands, decided I’d try and figure out how to make a leather mask or two from some spare hide she had lying around from making her own armor for the SCA. Which took a lot of attempts. Fast forward a couple of years, I was still working shit-paying jobs, we had a kid on the way, and couldn’t afford early daycare so we could both work. so I stayed home with the kids since I made less out of the two of us. Still don’t regret that. Also meant I launched a website and started slowly getting more and more professional and doing cons and stuff. Of course, doing a site means you have to do images, which meant learning photoshop, and, well, I also went ahead and learned how to draw, collage, etc in there. After a few years of photoshop, leather, and websites at home, and after going back to work at a bank doing image archival work on documents, I ended up working in a gallery as a dayjob, scanning and archiving paintings and photos for reproduction. which meant learning repro, art, art history, and putting it all together meant I was suddenly making digital art in my off time as well. And then kid number two and the ‘08 real estate crash happened almost simultaneously in reverse order. I was home with new kid again, because my job, and my entire department type, information services, pretty much ceased to exist from the corporate world. And since then it’s been working on self promoting and doing my own business since because fuck working for other people, its never worked well.

So yeah, I do leather, it’s a big part of my life,because anything is when you’ve done it for 15+ years. But that said, I’ve been fighting burnout with it for two years now, and been trying to leverage myself out of it the whole time. Which means fighting with the “but you’re the leather guy!” thing in my own head a LOT. I am not just a leatherworks guy. I write. A bunch. Next book’s almost done, and I skipped the history bit where I was freelancing for a few rpg designers- no, probably not anything you’ve seen. I DO VISUAL ART which you’ve all seen like mad if you’ve been following for any amount of time. I’d act if there were enough spoons, time and energy in the day. There isn’t, and I’m a cheesey fuckin’ actor anyways. I tattoo- that’s a new one picked up since quarantine, but I’v ebeen trying to make both of my hands less dumb, so picking up actual physical drawing and tattooing has been a thing. I still also craft all sorts of props and other bits when I want/get hired to. Because WHY NOT. But I’m a lot more than a leather guy, and I fight with myself every time I see stuff about me being just the leather guy. Jeebus, that was a wall of text. OK, I’m maybe also needing to vent a lot more, find time to get into therapy, and deal with issues on a healthy basis. Maybe find time and people irl who see me as a whole-ass person now that my vaccine’s almost finished marinating. Yeesh. Sorry for the screed, folks, but the ‘don’t fucking delete shit’ rule applies. It’s here, so I may as well share. But yes, your friend who does more than leather is trying to get seen as your friend who does more than just leather. Make sense?

#long post #you could reblog i suppose but why #personal

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bobataeminsuga · 3 years

Text

love to hate u (chilitwt x chilumitwt)

i hate that title

anyways here’s the chilumi x chili shipper drabble i wrote and posted on twt at 5am the other day (inspired by this mitsuboo tweet)

i literally have not looked over it once since then and literally copy pasted the entire thing so enjoy <3

warning i guess: swearing, nsfw mention, i said violence in my tweet and didnt realize that i deleted most of the violence but there’s still a little bit, and death threats. very poorly written tbh.

“You can’t fucking say that! Shipping them is illegal!” The Chli shipper exclaimed, every word they spoke was dead serious. But the Chlmi shipper couldn’t care less. They crossed their arms over their chest, eyes scanning the Chli shipper from head to toe before rolling them.

“Illegal? I’m sorry but is there a law against this, hm? Am I going to go to jail for shipping Childe and Lumine?” They chuckled as they saw the Chli shipper clenched their fists and furrow their eyebrows at the response. “What are you getting so worked up for? What are you going to do? Hit me?”

The Chli shipper stayed silent for a moment. God, how they wanted to punch that smirk off of the Chlmi shipper’s lips. "You’re dead to me, proshipper.”

The Chlmi shipper shook their head. “I don’t have the time to deal with children like you. And you should just avoid me next time, no need to start a fight, dear.” But the Chli shipper just wouldn't give up.

“I’m not a fucking child!” They exclaimed before continuing. “Hey, proshipper, what the fuck is this?” The Chli shipper held up an R18 image of Childe’s Foul Legacy form doing nasty, and I mean absolutely nasty, things to Lumine.

The Chlmi shipper only smirked back. “Pretty hot I’d say,” they spoke nonchalantly as they studied the drawing carefully. “Why, what’s the problem with it?”

“It’s fucking gross!”

“And I care because...?”

“Lumine’s a minor!”

The Chlmi shipper was practically on the floor, tears falling from their eyes. They laughed as hard as their lungs could let them. It was hilarious, really. Lumine? A minor? They had to be joking.

The Chli shipper, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to understand where all the humour in this was. They lifted their foot to kick the Chlmi shipper, interrupting their eruption of laughter. The Chli shipper bent down to their level and gripped the Chlmi shipper’s locks through their fingers. “Answer me, proshipper. What the fuck is this?”

But the Chlmi shipper’s expression never faltered. Their cocky grin plastered all over their face.

“You’re going to attack me? Show me what you drew of Foul Legacy Childe and Zhongli yesterday?” They blew out some air from their nose as a half-assed laugh. “Or are you too scared to show me because it’s the exact same thing?”

The Chli shipper remained silent while their fingers tightened their grip around the Chlmi shipper’s hair. The worst part was that they weren’t even wrong! What the Chli shipper had made Foul Legacy Childe do to Zhongli was just as dirty as what the Chlmi shipper drew. But the Chli shipper couldn’t bring themself to admit that they were wrong; and they weren’t, really. Lumine was a minor! That was the issue at hand!

“Kill yourself,” the Chli shipper spat without a care. Meaning everything the said; they wanted the Chlmi shipper gone. And if the Chlmi shipper wasn’t going to do it then the Chili shipper would do it themselves.

“I’d like to see you try first. You shouldn’t say that you know? You’re just a child, you know nothing about the world yet.”

Oh boy, it was on.

“Fuck yourself, you ignorant shit.” The Chli shipper moved their hands from the Chlmi shipper's hair to their arms, pinning them down onto the ground.

“Fuck me yourself, bitch," said the Chlmi shipper.

They were enjoying themself nonetheless; the Chli shipper’s pissed reaction was nothing but entertaining for the Chlmi shipper. The way they pouted and stomped, their angry expression while they pinned the Chlmi shipper down - if it weren’t for how much the Chli shipper pissed them off, the Chlmi shipper would’ve found them adorable.

"What are you smirking at?"

"Don't you want me dead, kill me already."

The Chli shipper rolled their eyes all the way to the back of their head if it were even possible. Did this person ever shut up? They were so annoying. The Chli shipper hated the smirk on their lips. Their plump, red lips and their evil little curve. Disgusting. And the way the Chlmi shipper’s eyes were so tempting, so flirtatious, despite what was going on? The Chli shipper couldn’t stand it!

They needed to get that expression off the Chlmi shipper’s face.

The Chlmi shipper’s eyes flew wide open. Before they knew it, the Chli shipper’s lips were pressed against theirs. Oddly. After what felt like minutes, the Chili shipper finally pulled away from the Chilumi shipper.

Pink flush painted the Chli shipper's cheeks although neither of them decided to pay any mind to it.

"Gross," the Chli shipper muttered.

The Chilumi shipper scoffed. “I didn’t tell you to kiss me, that was all you.” “Shut the fuck up.”

And before they both knew it their lips were clashing once again. Of course, both of them were in denial of the fact that they were enjoying the blissful sensation of each other.

“Aren’t you supposed to be killing me right now?”

“I told you already, for the love of God, shut up.”

“Make me.”

“God, I fucking will.”

“Goddamn,” said the ChiLiMe shipper, iced coffee in hand, taking small sips from it as they watched everything unravel in front of them. “These bitches gay, good for them, good for them.”

[END]

#genshintwt #chilumi #chili #genshin childe #genshin lumine #genshin zhongli #genshin fic #kinda #the chilime shipper was a self insert <3

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

Text

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 10: The Reconnections

word count: 8.6k

chapter summary: So many things just went wrong, now Sophie and her friends have to pull themselves together and help each other process it, otherwise they'll never figure out what to do next.

warnings: mentions of blood/injury, brief mention of bodies (non-human), general distress and confusion, suppressing emotions, panicking, crying, swearing, purposeful misuse of grammar, a lot of caps (not in an angry way, just excited yelling), and I think that's everything

taglist: I’ll reblog with it. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Hello! Ten chapters! We're in the double digits now! To celebrate I'll be posting a deleted scene from the earlier chapters, so if that sounds interesting to you, feel free to check it out! Now, I know you're probably eager to find out what happens next, so I'll stop !!

ao3 link here or read below

Everything froze.

The world was silent.

That little girl looked at her, tears streaming down their face, fingers clenched in that creature’s fur, nearly tearing it apart. They stared at her, and Sophie stared back.

Her friends were arranged in a circle around them, stumbling from the rubble, slipping in the carnage, trembling forward. Everyone’s eyes wide, mouths agape, dust clinging to their skin.

Eyes on the girl.

The girl wouldn’t take their eyes off Sophie. There were ten of them arranged in a perfect circle around them like some sick ritual from a human horror film.

Their mouth fell open, salty tears clinging to their lips,

and

they

screamed.

Cracks and tremors exploded their way through the rough ground cascades and shock waves of terror and sheer power ricocheted through the pathways of earth travelling along hidden roots and sending the whole world into a frenzy and it was so so so so unbearably loud.

Sophie clapped her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth as she tried to stop her very brain from rattling about in her skull. Her eyes closed for one moment but that was all it took.

The girl was gone when she opened her eyes.

There was a bag in her hand. Heavy, stuffed with metal pieces and tools and things she didn’t understand. Someone was holding her hand. A cloak had been draped across her back.

People were asking so many questions. What to do. Should they leave? Was Sophie’s shoulder okay? Was anyone else hurt? Would their parents try and come back? They couldn’t, she had their pathfinder. Should they just leave the bodies here?

Because there were bodies everywhere. Flattened into the ground, entrails strung between crumbled buildings like streamers. Thick, gleaming rivers of blood filled the cracks in the pavement, inching ever closer and closer, turning the claw marks and paw imprints in the ground into puddles, into drenched ground and soaked soil.

There was a dandelion growing between the cracks, petals now completely, entirely red.

She couldn’t see through the glass on the building to her side, but she could see her crimson reflection in the sheet of blood running down it, the drops drying like wax to the side.

It vanished, feathers blocked her view.

Deep browns spattered with gold and teal, a grey so dark it looked black, and--blue. A deep, rich blue.

Fitz, Keefe, and Maruca stood at three different points, a triangle amongst the ten of them, wings spread as the entire group faced inward. Blocking everyone’s view.

“What--what now?” Biana whispered, face drained of all color. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, bite marks in her lips.

“Who was that?” Keefe asked, grimacing, his hands held awkwardly at his side, like he couldn’t figure out just what he was supposed to do next.

Her fingers tightened around the pathfinder to the point of pain. Sophie just wanted this to be over. She’d been fighting so many people for so long. She didn’t want to anymore. She wanted to take a break, to go to the beach at midnight and push her friends into the water. To tend to a garden because she wanted to and not because she’d die without it. To listen to music on a blaring speaker without the looming terror it would draw something terrifying, something unnaturally scarier than her.

Twirling the pathfinder rhythmically beneath her fingers, she sighed. “Let’s just go.”

Keefe looked to her, alarmed. She didn’t care.

“Anyone have any last minute errands to run while we’re here,” she said, much too lightly. She couldn’t see the carnage through the feather barrier, but she could see it, knew what it looked like. The image was burned blisteringly detailed into her mind, and would remain for the rest of her goddamned life.

“Um...no,” Wylie answered, a bit confused, scratching at his head.

Sophie rubbed at her face; it felt like there was something stuck to her skin. A layer of filth and grime and wrong shuddering through her cells that refused to go away. She gasped, stumbling slightly--her shoulder. The movement jostled her shoulder. Throbbing aches thrummed their way through the surface of her skin, melting her nerves into rivulets of illusory, constant stimulation. Trembling, she exhaled.

Fitz reached out to steady her, frowning as he pulled her in to take a closer look. She didn’t let him. Covering it with her good arm, she tried to sort through her thoughts.

The sight of that little girl again…

“Then let’s just go.” Sophie looked up, startled. Linh. That had been...Linh. Her arms were crossed against her body, brow furrowed. Tam hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder, seeming to convey something no one but her could understand. Linh shrugged in response and his expression only darkened, fingertips noticeably darker when he dropped his hand.

Almost reluctantly, they all linked hands. Like they were uneasy leaving this place the way it was. But what choice did they have? What could they possibly do?

Run away. That’s what they could do.

Again.

She couldn’t get it off. She couldn’t get anything off. The dust and grime from that haphazard city stuck to her skin like pollen and her clothes were damp with sweat and suctioned to her body and those wings were stuck to her back and she wanted to rip rip rip them off and set them alight and dance through the flames.

But there was dirt on the porch and she needed to sweep it off.

There were flower petals on the couch and she needed to clear them away.

There were wires and metal plates and parts to be sorted.

So she pushed it away. Pushed it down. Took a deep breath. And got back to work.

Unnerving quiet crept through the cracks of the wood planks beneath her feet. Too quiet. No wind blew through the canopied trees, no animals chirped in the forest. Everything had...paused. Or maybe that was just her, unaware of the world around her as she methodically plucked flower petals from the seat of the chair, tossing them out a window.

Everything she did pulled against the bandages wrapped haphazardly around her shoulder. She’d popped a few pills when she’d gotten back, human medicines she’d grabbed with Tam, rinsed the wound off, poured an antiseptic over the top--it’d stung like a bitch but she’d live--and wrapped the thing up. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore than she had to.

Attempting to clean her wound had disturbed some of the neatly wrapped bandages from Elwin--which was surprisingly difficult with all the pollen. But her right arm was still good and covered, the other good from about the elbow down. Right now, she could probably pass as one of those haunt actors in a human haunted house, some kind of resurrected mummy.

As she wandered around, she passed by friends moving, living their own lives, shadows trailing behind them, marring their faces. Biana and Fitz had disappeared somewhere the moment they’d gotten back, tears trailing down their cheeks. Linh had vanished too, arms crossed and expression tight, Tam right behind her, apprehensive, unable to deduce what was wrong.

What wasn’t wrong? That would’ve been a better question.

They were living just to the left of where they should’ve been. They were all together, everyone was alive, but everything was just slightly off. This was not right. They weren’t supposed to be like this. What had happened to them? Was it still happening? Who was that little girl?

She found a closet in one of the empty houses, a broom and some lengths of handmade rope, flowers curling out from a handful of the woven vines. That...didn’t seem like how rope was supposed to exist, but she also didn’t know much about making rope. Or anything about it.

A broom sat in the corner of the closet, which she made sure to note. She’d need that.

Slinging the length of rope over her good shoulder, she carelessly tossed a throwing star from hand to hand as she made her way through the village.

The bridges needed repair.

Just ahead, one of the bridges had snapped off entirely on one side, dangling over the edge and into a sharp drop much in the way those comical action movies had shown from when she was little.

Thunk. She’d set the supplies near the edge of the platform, but she didn’t care.

Tossing her legs over the edge, she braced herself; this would take a level of control she wasn’t sure she possessed--especially not right now.

Pressing off with her hands, she lowered herself into the air, just like when she’d lowered herself into swimming pools as a kid. Not the time to be nostalgic, Sophie. But she couldn’t help it. The sun had been overwhelming, the air muggy and humid. A beehive had started to form under the water slide and her and her sister would always plunge beneath the chemical surface when a bee flew near, or even just the sound of those wings approached.

The very same sound her own wings were now making, holding her gently in the sky as she urged herself forward, muscles in her back tearing at the scratches, the mite marks in her shoulder. Grabbing the frayed ropes and hauling them back to the platform she’d jumped from, she used her body weight to anchor it down while she tied and wove and cut the fresh rope--that’s what the throwing star was for. She didn’t think there’d be any scissors in an abandoned village, but she was open to surprises.

Actually, no she wasn’t. The unexpected oh so frequently came begging alongside disaster and terror, singing a sweet song of promise only to rip it to shreds as soon as you let it in.

Testing the strength, she tentatively walked across the planks, bouncing in the middle. She probably shouldn’t have been walking on it if she was unsure of its stability, but she wouldn’t fall if it broke. A dangerous mindset to play with and she knew it, but she didn’t care. Either way, it held. Good. Something was fixed. Something was better now.

She did it again. Time ticked passed, the supply of rope slowly dwindled, knot after knot slipping through her hands, fixing bridges until her fingers were raw and red and the muscles in her back were threatening to pop out. Her shoulder stung, the entire area burning as if set alight, but she didn’t dare take more than a minute’s break. Anything more would snap her out of this zone.

Back to the closet, then. She grabbed the broom. Anything, anything to keep her body moving, physical labor to numb her mind.

Dust showered over the edge, tumbling towards the ground far far below. She could watch it touch the ground if she wanted; instead, she let her mind disappear. Letting herself live in her own body would lead to circles and circles and circles, coming back to everything and anything she’d ever said.

Each mistake she’d made. There was nothing she could undo, but her mind could replay the possibilities over and over and over again. What if she’d tucked the wings inside her shirt instead of relying on just the cape after they’d escaped that creature. What if she’d agreed to meet in a different city, let Mysterium be just a mission for Dex, contacting their parents separate.

She should’ve tried harder, fought stronger. Should’ve. She hadn’t. An infinite cascade of what-ifs and maybes were drowning her, shoving her head under the water and there wasn’t a drop of energy left in her to scream.

Bristles brushed against the wood, precise. Methodic. She worked her way out from the inside of the platform, moving the dirt to the edges to watch it fall away.

Realizing there was grime inside too, she entered her little home. When had she come back to it--she could’ve sworn she was out further. Shifting the rug out of the way, she efficiently swept the floor. Kicking aside furniture with barely half a thought, holding a couch up with one hand, careful to avoid stepping on the stained glass littered about the floor. Bare feet didn’t mix well with glass, and her body was too bruised to torment further. Not that it was stopping her.

There was so much to do, so many tasks to complete.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how she was supposed to react, she knew that much. She had quite possibly just permanently severed her connection to her old life. Had maybe seen her father for the last time. He’d seen her, knew there was something wrong.

And she stood here with a broom she’d found in that empty home, sweeping rivers of dried dirt off the wood floor, watching it shower all the way down to the ground below.

She didn’t remember how she got back here.

She didn’t remember what she was supposed to do next.

She didn’t remember her name.

“Hey, you,” he said, gently, approaching hesitantly from behind. She still flinched, muscles tensing. Keefe took the broom from her hands, setting it to rest against the side of a nearby wall. That--that wasn’t her wall. When had she strayed so far from her cottage?

She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving.

Almost like he was afraid he’d break her, he pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear, the ones that were obscuring her face. Hiding the trails of tears crying silently down her cheeks.

He inhaled softly, eyebrows creasing with concern as his other hand came up to rest on the other cheek, holding her in his hands. She hadn’t even looked at him and yet she could still picture every minute detail of his expression.

“You okay?”

She didn’t know if she was physically capable of responding. Softly, her own hands covered his, savoring the warmth of his skin against her own, pressing her eyes closed in a futile attempt to dry her eyes.

Sophie leaned forward, her forehead pressing against Keefe’s chest as his arms widened around her, caught off guard for a moment before his hands slowly settled on her back, careful to avoid the wings.

“O-oh. Okay. We can--we can do this, then. If you need.”

She did need. Desperately. Tilting her face to the side so her cheek was pressed to his chest instead, she held him close. And let him hold her. They didn’t talk. Just stood there, bodies flush.

Eventually, he raised one of his hands from her back, brushing it through her hair, chaotic and tangled from the style she’d hastily torn out. She felt his fingertips combing through the strands, ghosting across her scalp as he pulled at the knots, untangling it with his fingers the best he could. His fingers slid against the back of her neck, lifting the strands stuck to her skin. Gentle. He was oh so gentle with her, like she was a porcelain doll and one wrong move would shatter her into pieces.

“You doing alright, Sophie?”

Sophie pulled back and nodded, smoothing out his shirt, pulling it back down and pointedly avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t having it.

Keefe held her chin, slowly directing her to look back at him, his skin warm against the dried salt on her own.

“Are you okay, Sophie? Please talk to me. Or anyone. I know that mission didn’t go well and--”

“Stop,” she whispered, and he shut right up. It was so so much harder to talk than she thought it would be. “I can’t. Not right--I can’t. Too much. Everything. All at once. I can’t.”

He was nodding, the wings at his back shifting slightly, readjusting themselves, a deep charcoal grey. Her fingers tightened into fists in this shirt before she realized what she was doing and released the fabric, stepping back, exhaling.

Today had been absolutely awful and she hated everything about it. From pushing her old life even further away to accidentally revealing the wings to the little girl on that intelligent monster down to the chill in the air that morning.

But Dex had gotten his supplies. He’d had everyone help carry everything back--though he tried to get her to let them all handle it, what with the shoulder. And they were all still here. And everyone else had been taken back to the underground unharmed. Those were wins. They were positives. They were good things but she just couldn’t focus on them.

“Do you...want a distraction?” Keefe asked, hesitantly waving a hand in front of her face to bring her back to reality.

She nodded, running her hands down her face. It was too much. Too many things had gone so wrong so quickly and she’d wanted to bury her imparter beneath her mattress because it was exploding with messages and hails and just the thought of reading them made her so nauseous her knees had buckled and she’d had to lay on the floor for several minutes.

That’s when she’d remembered how disheveled the place was. So she’d started cleaning and hadn’t stopped. Not until he’d come to find her.

“Okay,” he breathed, hands combing back through his hair as he squinted off into the distance. Thinking. He hadn’t had anything planned and was thinking on the fly. He glanced to her.

“You stole Grady’s pathfinder, right?”

“No need to rub it in,” she grumbled, patting at various points all over her body, trying to remember where she’d put it. She’d thought she’d tucked it into her waistband, but it wasn’t there. “I think I left it inside.”

He pulled at his lip with his fingers, lost in thought. “Okay. Cool. Where?” She gestured for him to follow her, leading him across a few bridges, some she’d repaired and tied back into place, others they had to take a route around because she hadn’t fixed them yet.

She ducked her head inside, scanning the space, the little tables. There. She jogged inside, snatching it off a chair and returning back outside, holding it out to Keefe.

Taking it from her, he began to spin the facets, a new pattern emerging. It seemed familiar, although she could never quite understand how the crystals worked.

He smiled slightly to himself, glancing. When he saw her looking back he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks turning red. Tilting her head to the side, she watched him hold up the pathfinder to the afternoon light.

Lacing their fingers together, he looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t think you’ve ever been where we’re going, but it’s not the location that’s important. Got it?”

She shook her head, but he didn’t elaborate further, pulling them both into the light.

Purple grass had never made much sense to Sophie. Foxfire had purple grass, but no one bothered to explain why. It was one of those elvish things that hadn’t been deemed important enough for her to learn.

This grass wasn’t just purple, but varying shades of seafoam greens and delicate blues as well. Tall, reaching to about her knees, some adorned with flowers.

That was all. Grass, as far as she could see.

Keefe sighed next to her, then rubbed at his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if this place would be clear or not.” Clear of monsters. Taking a chance, coming here without scouting or defense aside from their new mobility and Sophie’s strength--not that she was in great shape at the moment. Perhaps the others had strange new traits too, not that she’d ask. Fitz had been staring off quite a lot recently, but she didn’t know if that meant anything.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around. There was...nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing meant they were safe. Nothing meant this place hadn’t been overrun or corrupted just yet. But it also wasn’t like Keefe to do nothing.

Tucking the pathfinder away, he ran his fingers through his hair, standing slightly taller, pulling himself together. “Okay. Look around. What do you see?”

“Grass.”

“Yeah, there’s grass. Who do we know who likes grass and fields and streams?” He was trying to lead her somewhere but her brain had turned to lead. Wait. A stream? Huh, now that she thought about it, the faint gurgle of something wet rushing by could be heard. Water pouring over rocks.

Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but he just smiled back. Okay. Grass. Someone who liked--

“Oh!” She could feel her eyebrows shoot up, putting the pieces together.

Keefe full on grinned now, but she shut her eyes, sinking to her knees amongst the foliage, deliberately ignoring the light, tickling brush off the blades against her skin. .

Bracing her, holding her steady just in case, his hand rested atop her shoulder as he came to stand behind her.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, she transmitted her query across the world. Hello? Are you there? Over and over and over again, unsure which direction to send the message so sending it everywhere, a full 360 around her body, waves of power rushing from her mind that no one but people like her could sense.

Finally, her message was answered.

SOPHIE! HELLO! FRIEND!

Silveny’s exuberant shouts filled her mind and she barely even grimaced. Apparently maintaining the mindbubble so often had built up her resilience to pounding noise inside her head.

Yeah, she responded, leaning back into Keefe. Do you want to come visit? Me and Keefe?

FRIEND! VISIT! KEEFE!

Sophie nodded her head, then realized the glittery horse couldn’t see her. Yes. It’s safe. Well--yeah, we’ll go with that. Safe! Just a really quick visit, okay? I don’t want to put you in danger.

Keefe was fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt, unrolling the parts that had gotten bunched up.

VISIT! SAFE! SOPHIE!

Yes...that is...that’s what I said.

WHERE! WHERE! WHERE!

“I’d like to contact whoever designed alicorns and file a formal noise complaint,” she grumbled, and she could faintly hear Keefe’s snickering before her attention was too far gone to process anything anymore.

I’ll show you, she said, gathering up an image of the place. That must’ve been why Keefe had asked her what she’d seen, to ensure she had a clear visualization before reaching out. Hadn’t he come up with this on the spot? Why was his attention to detail so casual?

Almost immediately after sharing the image, Silveny severed their connection, still mulling over and looking at the details Sophie’d provided.

Groaning, she sat back up, realizing she’d been leaning practically all of her weight onto Keefe, who’d sat down behind her at some point during that conversation--it must’ve lasted significantly longer than she’d realized.

“So?” he asked, shaking his arms out and stretching a bit, rolling his wrist and straightening his shirt.

Sophie blinked a few times, the fading light still too bright after her eyes had been closed for so long “She cut me off. I showed her where we were and then she severed the connection, so whatever that means--”

Crackling thunder rolled through the air, making them both jump as a hole tore itself through space, several sparkling winged alicorns emerging, prancing their way through the sky as they circled down to land a ways away, trotting over to where they both sat in the grass.

“Hey, Glitter Butt,” Keefe whispered, stroking her face, brushing the icy strands of hair out of her eyes. She snorted and butted his hand in return, pressingly firmly into his hand. His smile was infectious, the wings at his back a near blinding white to match the alicorn before him.

KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!

“She’s sure excited to see you,” Sophie told him, rubbing at her temple; Silveny was even louder in person.

Meanwhile, she was surrounded on either side by two little foals bumping up against her thighs, trying to knock her into the grass so they could play. But their movements were...disjointed. Erratic. Colored with fear and panic.

“They’re anxious,” she realized, frowning. Keefe’s expression had darkened slightly too, his wings shifting back to grey.

“Are you, mama?” He consoled, pressing up close to her neck, petting her all down her side. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to say it aloud--he could already feel it.

Sophie relented after a particularly brutal push from Wynn, sinking to the ground once more, letting him curl up in her lap, trembling beneath her fingers as she stroked his mane. Luna took more to Keefe, pulling at his shirt with her teeth, nearly tearing the fabric, pressing her wet nose to his skin, making him jump slightly.

He laid back in the grass, wings spreading behind him, Luna curling up beside him and laying her head atop his stomach. It was in this moment, the wind gently stirring the pastel grass cushioning their bodies, the intertwining feathers, the way his eyes closed and he leaned back, hand tangled in Luna’s mane, that Sophie yearned to be an artist. To capture this moment right now and make it real somewhere else, to allow it to exist outside her mind.

What she wouldn’t give to preserve this moment, this reprieve.

KEEFE? KEEFE? KEEFE OKAY? Silveny interrupted, blasting her thoughts into Sophie’s mind, hopping about anxiously, refusing to settle. Greyfell stood a little ways back, wary eyes observing the environment.

There’d been no news of anything catastrophic that Silveny had shared with her, nothing alarming or dangerous. But she’d kept secrets before. What had they seen? What had they met that made them so skittish?

Wynn butted his head against her side, demanding more cuddles and attention.

Yeah, Keefe’s okay. Why?

Silveny had pressed in closer, stomping at the ground. She tried to grab him by the shirt, pull him closer to her, but he ducked back, holding up his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re fine. It’s okay. Calm down, mama,” he whispered, gently stroking her head, trying to calm her. It was only marginally effective; she stopped her stomping, but her eyes were frantic, darting between Keefe and the ground and the area surrounding, sniffing the air, exhaling heavily.

Keefe glanced to her in question. Asking what was wrong.

Silveny. What’s wrong?

MONSTER! KEEFE! PROTECT!

I--what? What are you talking about? To Keefe she said, “Something about monsters. I think she’s trying to protect you.”

SMELL! MONSTER! PROTECT KEEFE!

Turning towards the panicked alicorn, he smiled slightly, nervously. “Thanks, but I’m good. You don’t need to protect me. You need to protect yourselves and your family. I’ve got other people to have my back.”

Silveny wouldn’t relent, her motherly concern boiling over and exploding from within her too-caring heart. Pressing forward, she tried to snap at Keefe’s wings, biting at the feathers.

They pulled back, snapping shut behind him just before she could reach as he sat up fully, backing away from her.

Oh.

Keefe.

Monster.

He was the monster she was scenting.

Silveny didn’t seem to understand anything Sophie tried to explain. Not until she told her that biting those wings, the monster, would hurt Keefe. Then she stopped trying.

But she didn’t give up, convinced there was something she could do to protect him from some creature, not understanding it was him she scented.

“I didn’t realize just how much our scents had changed. I mean, I know Ro told us but--” he cut off, still slightly shaken, expression drawn. Luna still curled around him, but the wings were tight to his back now, significantly darker. More shadowed. Haunted.

Silveny refused to leave his side, pressed close to him in the grass. Sophie had kept her own wings tucked in close, flat against her back. It felt unnatural, like they wanted to remain spread, but she could do it easy enough. Keefe’s were so much more obvious, that’s what’d tipped the alicorns off. Hers could be hidden, discreet. Anything to prevent more disruption, to worsen that aura of hurt lingering around Keefe, the one he was trying so hard to pretend didn’t even exist.

Sophie couldn’t think of anything to say, instead staying silent.

Distraction. They needed a distraction. That’s why they’d come all the way out here, although she didn’t know where that was. To have fun. Relax. Ignore everything else for just a single moment.

You know what? Fuck it.

Hey, Silveny? Want to fly?

Head perking up, her eyes focused on Sophie.

FLY? FLY? FLY?

She nodded, debating how she was going to navigate this. Yeah. Fly! Her shoulder could probably take it. She’d regret it tomorrow, but it wasn’t tomorrow yet.

“What are you saying to her,” Keefe hissed, leaning back a bit as Silveny’s wings began to flap slightly, rising from her sitting position to towering about the two of them sitting before her. Even Sophie felt as though she could feel the waves of excitement radiating off her, and she wasn’t even the empath. Keefe’s eyes were slightly clouded, like he was sorting through something before coming back to himself.

Sophie brushed him off. “You asked me to trust you when coming here, now it’s your turn to trust me.”

“That is so unnecessarily cryptic, Foster.” She stared at him. “Okay, alright. Point taken.”

Silveny bent down, expecting the two of them to climb atop her back, but Sophie shook her head. Keefe’s eyes widened and he slowly turned to look at her, mouth comically agape, like he was questioning whether her mind still worked properly. Probably not.

No. We’re gonna do this a little differently this time, okay? Trust me.

DIFFERENT FLY? TRUST? DIFFERENT FLY?

Shaking out her hands, trying to dispel the nerves, she nodded. Yep. Trust us. You go ahead and we’ll join you.

It took a minute or two more of explanation, but finally the stubborn alicorn relented, her family following behind. Taking off into the sky, the four of them began to circle a few dozen feet about the ground, moving around the two of them left on the ground.

“Are you serious? You’re really--are you sure?” he asked, hands on either side of his head, fingers digging into his scalp as his eyes remained oh so open, scanning her from head to toe.

She shrugged, turning away as she straightened her clothes out; the fabric had bunched and remained full of grass. “Want to join them or not?”

“Well--uh--you know--ah--we can’t--why…” Sophie looked to him over her shoulder, realizing he truly was stunned. Entirely at a loss for words.

“Hey, you don’t have to, you know. You’ll be fine either way. Nothing will happen.”

He rolled his eyes at her, insulted. Of course he would follow her, he just couldn’t believe who she’d become. The decisions she made so casually that would’ve sent her spiraling into anxiety before. Part of her didn’t believe it either, pretended nothing had happened at all.

Crouching down slightly, she gathered her energy for a moment before leaping into the sky, wings snapping out behind her. Steadily, she made her way into the sky, turning back to see Keefe.

His wings beat steadily behind him--he must’ve practiced, she realized with a start. Light grey feathers shivering in the wind as he caught up to her, color staining his cheeks already.

“See? Everything’s okay,” she whispered, unsure whether she was comforting herself or him. Either way, he smiled in return, chaotically bumping into her with his shoulder, nearly tumbling out of the sky in the process. Hiding her wince, she smiled wider. Yeah, that injury did not like all this movement, but she’d never been known to listen to her body.

“Yeah. Okay. We’re okay.”

With each beat, it grew easier. The tightness in her chest eased, her smile gradually felt true. Every time she took to the sky she landed more skilled, more aware of her own body. They worked in tandem, the two of them. Her and the wings.

SOPHIE! KEEFE! FLY!

The impatient alicorn had darted down and was now flying in concentric, tightening circles around the two of them, whining in excitement.

Yeah, Mama. Fly. Silveny let out a shriek of excitement, tumbling through the air, her two little trouble makers coming up beside them to butt into their legs, testing their balance.

Sophie moved much more sporadically than the five of them, rhythmically shifting in the sky while they moved steadily; something about their wings having feathers and hers being insect-based, she assumed. But she didn’t want to do any thinking right now.

Right now there were four alicorns and someone she loved right beside her, laughing and intertwining and dipping through the sky.

Keefe waved frantically, drawing her attention. “Foster! Look!” Wynn hovered beside him in the air, and on some unknown signal both of them snapped their wings shut, gravity taking them by the hand and dragging them down head first, dozens upon dozens of feet rushing past in a few moments as the ground grew nearer and nearer.

At the last possible second, they both opened their wings, pure white feathers catching the wind as they pulled a sharp turn, skimming the top of the grass before the momentum sent them rocketing back into the sky, looping around to come to a mostly steady pause in the air.

“Why? Why would you do such a thing,” she managed, clutching her chest. She’d trusted him, but watching him drop headfirst, unprotected, had ignited some visceral panic, adrenaline humming through her veins, making it slightly more difficult to maintain her position in the sky.

KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! Silveny cheered in her mind, but Sophie tried to ignore the pestering. Greyfell seemed to be occupying most of her attention anyways.

“Aww, what? Do you care about me or something?” he teased, circling back around to her, squishing his cheeks between his palms.

Swatting at him, she glitched back a little, wings buzzing and failing to hide her grin. “Unfortunately, I’m invested in your physical and mental well-being, you dumbass.”

Keefe scrunched his nose up at her, pressing in close and grabbing her by the wrist, drawing her away slightly, leading her through loops in the air. He let go eventually, realizing it was much more difficult when holding on to someone, the same way running was so difficult when holding someone else's hand.

She missed the warmth of his skin, though. Missed it desperately.

Music. In a human film, there’d be soft, soothing music playing over a montage of the two of them whirling through the sky, the sound of their laughter cutting through when Sophie’s shirt rode up and the fabric got bunched on her face, when Keefe tried to stay low and fell from the sky, instead ending up rolling through the grass.

Everything was okay, just like they’d said. Like they’d promised. All she could hear was Keefe’s voice, his ringing laughter, and all she could see was his smile, the blinding, near glow of his bone-white feathers.

They let the time pass.

They stopped trying to stop it.

Hey--where are you? Fitz interrupted her as she darted around an alicorn wing, testing her own agility.

Hmm? she replied, startled.

I asked where--

Oh. Mind processing what he’d said a few seconds later, she interrupted him. I don’t know. Keefe took us here.

She could’ve sworn Fitz was mentally trying to strangle her, shake some sense into her. Sophie took the brief moment of silence to slow down, coming to a hover as she closed her eyes, focusing on the conversation. It was hard to escape her body with the pounding in her shoulder, but she managed.

Alright, he said finally, clearly distracted with something on his end. Can you come back, please? Did you even tell anyone you were leaving? What are you even doing--you know what? Later. Just...I need you. Please.

Wings rushed rhythmically beside her, Keefe having noticed her distraction and coming to make sure she didn’t tumble from the sky. How considerate.

Are you okay? Heart skipping a bit, she resisted the urge to pull at her eyelashes. It was that brief moment before disaster, that poignant pause where the next few words would determine whether the adrenaline kicked in in full or her panic would waiver and they’d laugh about it later. Those few seconds before it set in where you tried to figure out if it was real.

He hesitated. I--I don’t know. Is it even possible to be okay right now?

Okay, okay, she consoled, instincts kicking in. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be there, okay? I promise. Don’t do anything stupid, please. We’re coming.

Yeah...okay.

The connection cut out and she opened her eyes, disoriented for a moment. Keefe was grimacing, shaking his hands out, trying to dispel something.

“What’s got you all anxious, Foster?” Ah. Right. He could feel the sudden souring of her mood.

Moving away from him, towards the alicorns, she called over her shoulder. “We need to go. Fitz asked for us to come back and he sounded really upset.”

Keefe started for a moment then followed after. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. But he wants us back so we’re going back.”

“Okay, yeah. Yeah let’s go.” he repeated himself a few times, and Sophie swore if she were an empath she’d feel the same waves of dread and anxiety rolling off of him as he felt from her.

Silveny, Keefe and I need to leave. You and your family need to go back to wherever you’re safest, okay? I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.

KEEFE! SOPHIE! STAY! She begged, sounding like she wanted to kidnap the two of them and steal them away permanently, convinced she could protect them.

She shook her head, curled up in the air beside the alicorn, cradling her head between her hands, pressing their foreheads together. We can’t, mama. But you need to stay safe. We’ll see you again soon.

SEE SOPHIE SOON!

Yeah! We won’t wait so long next time.

SEE KEEFE SOON! Silveny playfully bumped into Sophie, circling away to do the same to Keefe, who said much of the same as she had, wishing her well and promising to visit sometime.

Neither of them knew if they’d be able to keep that promise.

Wynn and Luna butted against them too, demanding a few last pets and snuggles before they followed behind their parents, Greyfell unexpectedly brushing wings with Keefe in farewell before they vanished into the void with one last message.

SOPHIE SAFE! KEEFE SAFE! STAY SAFE!

It was useless to wait here any longer, but they both hesitated for a single moment, long enough to take a breath. To watch the grass shiver in the breeze, the pollen dance through the air.

Offering Keefe her hand, Sophie conjured the clearest image she could of the gnomish village, the way it looked from up above. Their fingers intertwined and Sophie stopped beating those wings, letting herself fall into a dead drop just as Keefe had, but this time they didn’t catch themselves: they plummeted into the void.

Humidity condensed into clouds, obscuring her vision. Apparently her best image of above the village was from that dragon fight, much higher than she realized. The two of them descended in slow, coiling circles, both of them wishing they could go faster but not sure if they should risk it.

Wylie waved at them as they landed from a bridge a little ways away, so she waved back.

We’re back; where are you? Hand dropping back to her side, she resolved that if he didn’t respond within the next fifteen seconds she was tracking him down.

She reached ten before his voice filled her head.

My...house, he said, unsure what to call it just like the rest of them.

Biting her lip, she glanced to Keefe. “Do you know where Fitz is staying?”

He nodded, taking the lead. A stab of guilt threaded its way through the lining of her stomach, coiling around her ribs and squeezing tight. How shameful that she’d gotten so caught up in her own life, her own troubles, that she didn’t even know where he was staying.

Leading her through a series of bridges and turns, a cottage came into view, slanted and twisted around the side of a tree, a spiral of stairs leading towards a splintered door left agape, a pattern of slashes in the front that she forced herself to remove from her mind.

It was the highest building in the village, roof open to the sky.

No creaks or groans came from the stairs as she practically ran up them, imagining the worst of possibilities, heart lagging behind, stumbling with dread. Keefe was only a moment behind, cursing as his feathers snagged on a tear in the railing.

Tentatively, she knocked on the door, but when no response came she just pushed inside.

“Fitz? You alright?” she called out, glancing around the area. Gasping, she let the door swing behind her. The room was in chaos, papers strewn about the floor, his bag discarded near a beanbag chair, spilling empty vials and snack bars onto the ground.

A shuffling came from upstairs--there was an upstairs? Fitz tumbled into the room a few moments later, disheveled, like he hadn’t realized they were actually coming.

Keefe let out a low whistle. “Okay, buddy. What the fuck.”

Fitz was picking at his lip, distracted, frantically scanning the papers on the floor like he was looking for something. “Hmm. Yea,” he responded absentmindedly.

Sophie was too busy scanning him from head to toe, searching every inch for sign of injury or distress. His knuckles were red and raw, his hair sticking out in every possible direction like he’d been running his hands through it, pulling at it.

“What did you need?” she asked, voice soft and gentle. Something was wrong. Something was eating eating eating at him enough that he’d asked her to come.

Fitz exhaled heavily, reaching up to run his hands down his face, then dropped them to his sides. “I don’t know,” he whispered, clenching his jaw. “It doesn’t make any sense.” he was picking at his lip again, arm shaking.

She tried again. “Well, maybe if you tried describing it, we could figure--”

“No.” He had turned around, lowering himself to the floor, collecting the papers and starting to place them in some sort of order. Where had he gotten paper? He glanced at her guiltily. “Sorry. That sounded rude. I didn’t mean--I’m sorry. I don’t mean that I don’t know what the problem is, the problem is that I don’t know. I don’t understand this. I keep--I keep going over what we know, organizing it into notes and sections and treating it like a goddamned homework assignment but I just...the pieces don’t fit together. And there are so many loose strings and things to tie up and come back to and I can’t get that information, which just makes it--”

“O-kay, babe. Let’s slow down there for a hot second,” Keefe interrupted, lowering himself next to Fitz. Fitz slumped, all the air rushing out of his body seemingly at once, expression softening into delicate pain.

Sophie just stood there for a moment before shaking herself out of it, kneeling on the floor beside him, taking the papers from his hand. It was just pages upon pages of notes, scribbled diagrams besides carefully organized and sectioned observations, notes about the wings and the creatures, notes about the little echo and the way Tam’s eyes had changed.

“Here,” he said, handing her a book on top of it all. “That’s what I’ve been working on.”

Oh. It was the book. The monster book. The journal they’d all started who knew how long ago, a collection of notes and things known about the various creatures they’d encountered so far. Their behaviors, their traits, the noise they made if any.

She’d forgotten they’d brought it along.

He clearly hadn’t.

“Okay,” she said, trying to collect herself. “What is...what have you been working on?” His thoughts were so disjointed, something occupying his mind so intensely he wasn't speaking clearly. Hard as she tried she couldn’t make sense of it.

Fitz gestured like it was obvious. “I’m trying to solve it. The wings.” He scooted closer to her, reaching out to flip through the pages to a new section.

A section...about all of them.

It felt so very wrong and off-putting, seeing themselves beside all those horrid things in that book. But she shook it off. Not now.

“Solve? What do you mean ‘solve?’” Keefe asked, leaning in closer to see the pages, quickly turning away when he caught a glimpse of a few sketched feathers, all in various shades of grey.

Fitz groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I can’t--I can’t explain it, okay? It just--it doesn't want to make sense. I swear it makes sense. There’s just--I’m just missing something and then I’ll figure it out and--there’s an explanation somewhere. If I just find it then we can--”

“We can what, Fitz?” Keefe asked, painfully soft.

He went quiet. His fingers curled, nails digging into his face until Sophie reached out to pull them away, lacing her fingers through his own. The movement aggravated her shoulder but she ignored it, letting out only the smallest sound. It didn’t matter. He was crying.

Keefe moved closer and began rubbing his back, the space between the protruding wings, telling him to breathe, the instruction accompanied by a wince of his own as all of Fitz’s...whatever it was hit him, flooding through his mind, visible on his face. But he just shook it off, continuing the slow circular motions.

“I don’t even know what I’m trying to do,” he laughed, hollow. His fingers tightened around Sophie’s before relaxing, falling into his lap. “We’ve already messed everything up. There’s no coming back from this. I don’t even know why I’m trying.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sophie said, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. “We’re still trying. We’re always going to try--it’s what we do, right? Together. All of us. That’s how we work. That’s us. I like it that way.” She had no idea what to say.This was so...unexpected. Out of nowhere. Or maybe she just hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should’ve been.

He hummed half-heartedly in response, cheeks flooding red. Keefe absentmindedly reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from Fitz’s forehead, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

“You should listen to Foster; she knows what she’s talking about most of the time.”

Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but Fitz was smiling slightly. “Yeah...she usually does. I guess that’s why I asked for you.”

“You don’t need a reason to ask for me,” she reminded him, letting go of his hand to flop back against the hard wood of the floor, the sound of something clattered to the ground accompanied it. But she didn’t notice, flinching as she hit her shoulder, staring towards the sloped ceiling, the veins of vines curving around the roof. Like the ones that had trapped that creature.

A pang of guilt overwhelmed her for a moment, almost enough to take her breath away. She still hadn’t told anyone about that. But she turned her attention back to the situation at hand. Keefe was looking at her funny, but he shook himself off and turned away.

Fitz shifted forward, flopping down on the floor beside her, wings spreading beneath him to accommodate for the shift. She couldn’t imagine it was comfortable, but he seemed fine.

“I know,” was all he said.

Keefe frowned. “Well now I feel a little left out. Do I get to join the cuddle session?” Fitz laughed, a real laugh, patting the open space to his right, inviting Keefe in.

When Keefe joined, Fitz was sandwiched between the two of them, the three of them looking off at nothing, pretending they didn’t notice the way their skin brushed against each other. No one spoke, the echoing of their heartbeats more than enough to fill the passing time.

They had responsibilities, yes. But this mattered more. Her friends, her family, would always matter more.

Fitz’s breathing evened out, the tension draining from his muscles. Whatever distressed frenzy he’d been in when they arrived started to ebb, his pulse slowed.

Sophie counted each beat, the three of them combined, still unnerved that she could even hear their hearts. Fitz’s hand was playing with her hair, rearranging it around her face as he lay beside her, oh so careful not to jostle her shoulder, the bandages. They’d shifted at some point, Sophie now more atop his wing so she could be closer to his body, Keefe the same on the other side. He was fiddling with Fitz’s hand, pulling at his fingers and tracing the lines with his palm.

“Thanks for coming,” Fitz whispered, breaking the long silence.

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t have to come,” he explained, not looking at either of them. “But thank you. I..I needed this. Someone.”

Keefe rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at the two of them. “We’re always going to be here when you need us, Avery.” Fitz rolled his eyes at him, smiling.

“Just…” Sophie began, pausing and restarting. “Thanks for reaching out. Instead of dealing with it on your own. Thanks for letting us in.” He blinked, like he hadn’t thought of it that way before.

Keefe pushed himself up further, looking over at something, drawing both of their attention. “Hey, uh. Foster? You’re getting some messages.” Her imparter--oh, that must’ve been what the noise was. It had fallen from her pocket, discarded somewhere on the floor--she’d turned off the vibrations and sound so she wouldn’t hear it if someone said anything. It was stupid, she knew, but she hadn’t known what else to do.

Exhaling, she closed her eyes. Yeah. She should deal with those now. Nodding to herself, she pushed herself into a sitting position, bearing her weight on her good arm. Keefe lowered himself back down next to Fitz.

One thing at a time.

Reaching over, she grabbed her imparter, bringing it to her lap so she could see it better.

Her mouth fell open. Fitz was watching her carefully, messing with Keefe’s hair and trying to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t observing her every move, gauging her reaction.

“How bad?” Keefe asked, head resting on his arms.

Sophie didn’t even respond, sitting up straighter and thumbing open the device, going straight to her messages. The most recent ones.

“Elwin--he messaged me.” She blurted out, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

They both stopped moving.

“He says he wants to meet up. Secretly. Just--just with him.” Trembling, she turned the screen around so they could read it.

Sophie. I don’t know what’s going on with you or your friends, but please let me help. I want nothing but the best for you and I can’t help you if you’re hidden. I’m not asking you to reveal your secrets, but let me in just enough to patch you up. I don’t need all the answers, but I won’t sleep well until I know I’ve done everything I can. You have injuries left untreated.

But it was the last part of the message that really stunned her.

No one knows I’m sending this, so don’t let them know. We can keep this just between us. You’re a strong, independent young woman, but I hope you’ll accept my help.

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the-odd-job · 3 years

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What is your step by step drawing process like, if you don't mind my asking?

I'll just use Sunstealer as an example since he's the most recent thing I did. Under the cut because this is horridly long. You wanted step by step, I’ll give you step by step.

That is a threat.

And every step of the way I use a sharp pen with high pressure sensitivity and a sharp eraser with high pressure sensitivity, unless stated otherwise.

1. Alright, sketch first of all. I pick a whatever color, set a folder to multiply, and add layers in it. I start with the face/helm and take moderate care with making it look decent.

2. From there I sketch the rest of the the pic, preferably very loosely. I aim to not lift the stylus from the pad very much and instead just SCRIBBLE lines into the vague shape I'm after.

3. Set the sketch folder’s opacity real damn low, like somewhere under 10%, create a new folder, set it to multiply, and this is where the horrid amount of layers and layer folders I use comes in. But, you can see I actually did a second sketch of the arms (and legs, though that isn’t visible here) ‘cause I couldn’t make them look right based on my initial sketch.

4. On top of my second sketch I draw the rest of the clean lines. The lines were drawn with this purplish color, btw. I use something akin to it pretty often in my lineart.

5. After all that I use the Auto Select tool to select everything outside my lineart, e.g. everything I don’t want to have color. I then invert the selection and lay down my flats. At this point I used the gold as my base color, but then added separate folders for each following color, clipping them to the gold base layer below. In the case of black, its folder has a whole bunch of layers while I tried to figure out what parts to color black. With layers for the different parts, I can just click them on and off to see what things look like with or without them.

6. Okay, now to the meat of things. I use a correction layer (hue/saturation/luminosity in this case) to change the base gold to a far darker color that I can easily edit later without losing my initial color choice, and create a new layer on top of all my colors, set it on multiply, and in this case used a sort of peachy color to add my first shadows on top of the whole entire picture. At this point the exact colors in use don’t matter one bit, though, as long as you see what you’re doing.

7. I create a second multiply layer on top of the last one, and go over the whole thing again, adding deeper shadows, this time using bright red. But again, color doesn’t matter yet. I like contrast too, so you can see some areas turn almost black.

8. Shinies! We add our first Add (Glow) layer (that can be named differently in other programs, in SAI it was just “Luminosity”). Once again, color doesn’t matter, just as long as you see what you’re doing, but I was working with about the same peach I used on my first multiply layer. And how I add the shines is basically just color the glow over the whole area, then use the eraser in sweeping and circling motions to remove parts of it. I don’t treat each plate/portion separated by lines individually, because then you’ll just end up with mismatched areas that don’t communicate with each other at all and just fight. (Remember to erase the shine from over your shadows too. Auto Selecting the shadows and erasing the glow from the selected area is a good trick.)

9. More shinies! This time we want it to show up as a bit lighter/brighter than our previous shiny. Using a brighter color or higher opacity does the trick. I do the same thing of coloring large areas and erasing shapes out of them afterwards, but this time I make it argue with my first glow layer a bit. Some overlap is good, but I also want them to live their own lives. (I included a view of the second glow layer alone, but I worked with both glow layers visible.)

10. We now have two multiply layers and two glow layers. What we also have, is a base color (gold) and separate folders for every subsequent color (black, face, insignia in this case. And optic, but let’s not touch that yet). We now copy our two multiply layers and two glow layers, and move copies of them into each folder (sans optic) and clip them to the base layer in that folder. We move copies of the multiply and glow layers right over our base layer too, below our other color folders. (I deleted the glow layers from the “face” folder because I don’t want the face to be as shiny, and the multiply layers from the “insignia” folder because there’s actually no shadow over the insignia.) We can make our original multiply and glow layers invisible so they’re not messing things up, and what we should have is... The same exact thing as in step 9. Wow.

11. Now we actually make it look good! Though let’s just color the optic while we’re at it so it’s not all empty. Anyway, this is the stage where we really start to think about color and opacity. I want a neutral lighting to showcase his colors best, so let’s see how we get that. The thing we’ll just do is use Tonal Correction > Hue/Saturation/Luminosity to change our multiply and glow layers one by one, starting from our first multiply layer. I turn the other multiply and glow layers off so I can see what I’m doing and and tweak the colors until I get something that doesn’t scream “interesting lighting”, because I want neutral lighting.

12. Then I go through all of the layers one by one and do the same thing to each of them. The reason I have them each on separate layers is exactly this, that I can affect all of the drawing’s colors individually and make them look just as I want to and always have the option of just going back and easily editing things. I also add a glow layer to the face, but with a brush rather than a pen so I get a softer look, buuut then add a second glow layer with a low opacity to add just a little bit of sharp light in there. And now we have a thing! But it looks pretty flat, doesn’t it? We don’t want that.

13. First of all, let’s add some soft glow to the gold. New glow layer below our multiply and other glow layers, choosing a soft color to accentuate the gold, and then using either a brush or airbrush we add just a bit of color in there. Arrows point to the spots where I added it, because we want the effect to be subtle and easy to miss.

14. We can do better than that, though. Let’s add a multiply layer and do the same thing, adding juuuust hints of darker color here and there. It adds a touch more depth, but again, we want it to be easy to miss.

15. Let’s have a look at the black, next. You may have noticed I turned off the second glow layer on it entirely, and that’s because it was decided that the black shouldn’t be as shiny as the gold. We still want to add some life to it though, and because Sunstealer’s black tints towards blue, let’s make some blue happen by adding a glow layer, and again, very softly with a brush or airbrush, add just hints of color in there.

16. It still doesn’t really good though, does it? It’s pretty boring and lifeless despite our efforts. More layers, then! Some fucking edges, this time. A glow layer above all of our existing layers and folders to affect all of them (except optic, ‘cause optic doesn’t need it), take good ol’ bright white, turn the opacity down a bit, and add sharp light to the edges. Like, all the edges that are touched by light. Seams, everything. We want this motherfucker to shine.

17. Okay, now do the same, except this time on the shadows. The layer is on lower opacity and I didn’t use white but desaturated blue instead. Just add a bit of reflected light in there.

18. Slowly getting there, but let’s do a couple more things. First of all, warm color. Basically, I just like to slap a random color on top of the whole damn thing when I’m finishing a drawing, using either a color, a glow, or a normal layer, depending which one gets me the best results that time. Or, all three, if that’s what I feel like. This time I used a color layer with briiiiiight neon orange. I switched the layer to normal and opacity to 100% so you can see where it’s actually applied, which is, again, on top of all the layers. A pretty large area, but even on 100% opacity with a normal layer you can see it’s pretty transparent. If I had wanted to do a more interesting lighting, I would’ve left it more visible and maybe added another similar layer in a different color, but I wanted neutral lighting so we leave it as just a tiny, tiny hint in there.

19. Still not done. Colors reflect other colors, so let’s make that happen on the black and have it reflect our gold some.

20. Almost there. What are we missing? Color correction, that’s what. I didn’t do much of it for this piece, but with some I really play around with correction layers and layers set to overlay and whatnot. But let’s see what we have here. First of all, there’s one brightness/contrast correction layer affecting the gold only, increasing the contrast so things look a bit brighter.

21. There’s also a second brightness/contrast correction layer, this one simply increasing the brightness a bit. It’s mostly for the sake of the black, because I wanted to make it look a bit more blue by making it lighter, but it worked to make the whole image a little brighter along with it. Aside from the optic, that’s still on top of everything else. But like said, how many corrective layers I have going on depends entirely on what I’m doing. In some cases I can have around a dozen in effect, not all of them always affecting the entire image, but split around to do their thing on different layers.

22. But speaking of the optic! It glows, so let’s make it glow with two layers on top of both of the “color” and “lines” folders. One layer is for the blurred red glow, the second is for the sharply reflected light.

23. And for things like these I like a simple background, which I generally do by just using a couple of gradients and altering their color to whatever looks decent. I also often add an outline to the entire character in pieces like this to make the character pop a bit more, by just copying my base color layer and performing gaussian blur on it.

WHEEZE. That’s that, though. Finished product can be viewed here.

Oh, and ctrl+shift and tap will jump you straight to the layer you tapped on. Makes moving between layers and finding the damn layer you wanted to edit a hell of a lot easier.

Annnnnd obsessively naming layers and layer folders so you can tell what the heck they actually are when you have way, way many layers to work with.

*thumbs up*

#asks #anonymous #is that step by step enough #i might've forgotten to mention some layers because there is A Bunch even just for the colors #but i tried to be thorough #but yeah non destructive editing and editability #that's how we get to some overachieving layer counts but make sure we can always go back and always have control

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a-froger-epic · 4 years

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What are your top 5 favorite angst moments in fics by other people

Thanks for resending the ask! The original one seems to be stuck in Tumblr limbo.

This was so hard. I literally just spent 45min going through my bookmarks and I could point you to some people's entire fic catalogues or entire fics without being able to pic a single scene in particular because they have so much delicious angst. (Yeah, I'm looking at you @aboutnothingness and @freddieofhearts and @i-lay-my-life-before-queen's Omegaverse Froger, or also @immistermercury's Jimercury ballet!Freddie epic and really several oneshots by some of my favourite authors in their entirety.)

But. I had to choose. So here are, in no particular order, some scenes:

---

Princes of the Universe by @tikiniki

Sci-fi AU. John saves Prince Freddie's life. 😰

Then, through the screams and gunfire, John heard Roger’s voice.

“John, Freddie! Watch out!”

And John spun around, just in time to see Roger throw himself towards Kassius, Kassius who had his gun raised and aimed at Freddie’s back.

His breath caught in John’s chest. Roger wouldn’t be fast enough.

He wasn’t.

The release of the bullet from Kassius’s gun disappeared in the rest of the noise. John acted on instinct.

He was barely conscious of moving at all. He barely noticed shoving Freddie to the side as hard as he could. He didn’t hear the surprised outcry leaving Freddie’s mouth.

But he felt it. Felt when the bullet pierced his chest.

The force of the bullet made him stumble back. He tried to draw a breath, tried to make a sound, but all was white-hot pain. The next second the guards were upon them. John was shoved in the chaos, his knees buckling beneath his weight.

Unable to catch himself, he fell over the edge of the pool.

Just before he breached the surface, he heard it.

The sound of voices crying out his name.

He smiled as he hit the water.

---

Aftercare by @bisexualroger

Freddie got mugged. 🥺

There’s an alien quality to the mirror, despite the fact that Freddie uses it every day and has done for months now. Perhaps it’s not the object itself that’s unfamiliar, but rather what it’s reflecting, the offending image subsequently contaminating the rest of the room with its strangeness. Lucky for him though; if the face in front of him registered as his own it might be too much for him to handle. Today’s been difficult enough without having to fully acknowledge the physical consequences of his earlier misfortune.

Freddie leans closer to the glass. The sight makes his lip tremble and his hands shake, but he swallows down his distress and reminds himself to view it objectively. It’s not his face, just a problem that needs to be fixed.

Taking another deep breath he tries again to go in with the cotton wool pad. Slippery with alcohol the cheap fabric desperately wants to slide out of his hand, but he keeps his grip steady as he brings it to his face. Immediately though the burning sting has him wincing. He tries to hold his nerve but the pain only intensifies, making his eyes prickle so he can no longer see what he’s doing. With a stifled cry of frustration he tosses the wool down into the sink and slides to the floor.

Once there his first instinct is to curl in on himself, but the pain in his ribs prevents him from doing so, which only makes matters worse. He’s been at this for fifteen bloody minutes, and much as he wants to shout and rage at the unfairness of it all his anger is infuriatingly manifesting itself through tears rather than determination. For goodness sake all he wants to do is have a hot shower and forget the entirety of this awful day, but he can’t until he’s dealt with this. It’s so agonisingly unjust.

---

The Path of Nevermore by @plainxte

Things are complicated. *sings* Give me one night only, one night only... 😭

"Yeah. I should probably head out," Roger said, looking around him. He was sure there was somewhere that he had promised to be that day.

"Please, Rog," Freddie said. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone. I mean. Don't send me to the path," Freddie said.

Roger turned to him with a smile. It quickly faded when he studied the look on Freddie's face: he was completely serious, and there was no hint of amusement in his eyes. He meant it, Roger realised. When Freddie said nothing more, just continued to look at him, it finally hit him what Freddie was saying. The seriousness of what he was asking.

"Of course I won't leave you," Roger whispered. "You know that. I wouldn't. But you know I can't, I can't – "

Freddie carefully lifted one hand, putting it hesitantly on his cheek, only just touching. His fingertips ghosted over Roger's cheekbone. "I know," he said. "And that's not what I meant. And I can't, either. But just for now. Please don't go. Please."

Roger took a breath. His thoughts were getting no clearer; if anything, his whole head seemed to be in a fog. He wasn't thinking; he couldn't think. He could only nod. Freddie leaned closer, and Roger closed his eyes. After what seemed like an age, he felt soft lips touch his. He reached up his own hand to Freddie's face, skimming over his jaw to come to a rest in his hair.

"And about time, too," he breathed.

---

Sobering Up by... oh whoops, it seems their tumblr was deleted or changed names. Well, nevermind, I still love this fic so much.

Roger and Freddie don't know how to deal. 💔

They lie there afterwards, stewing in a pregnant silence. Normally, sex put Roger right to sleep but this… he was unable to wrap his head around any of it.

He rolled over to lie on his stomach away from Freddie. He took a pillow and clenched it tightly in his arms, pressing his face deeply into it. Some animal instinct was telling him if he squeezed hard enough then the painful sickening swirl of emotions in his chest might ebb away.

Freddie softly cleared his throat. “Rog,”

“Hm?” Roger feigned sleepiness. He didn’t feel like having any kind of pillow talk.

“What…” Freddie faltered. “What do you think the future has in store for us?” Roger felt his heart seize up.

“What’d you mean ‘us’?” His voice was muffled in his pillow, but it didn’t mask the cracking on the last syllable. He heard Freddie make a sharp intake of breath.

“Queen.” He said. “What do you think we’ll be like in the future? D’you think we’ll make it?”

Roger was quiet at first. Freddie wasn’t the type to avoid the elephant in the room like this.

“Dunno,” Roger sighed, still clinging tightly to his pillow. “But I won’t stick around if there are better places to be.”

“Are there better places to be?” Freddie’s feigned curiosity did nothing to hide the anxiety in his voice. And it dawned on Roger that they weren’t going to talk about the sex. They were never going to talk about it. It had happened and that was all. It was too big, much too big, for either of them to face. This was Freddie’s way of asking if Roger was okay with that.

Roger didn’t exactly feel relief at this revelation. Somehow he felt like he had given Freddie a much more intimate part of himself than he had given any other partner. And the seriousness of that weighed heavily on him. Nothing would be the same for him again. But it had to be.

---

On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves by @quirkysubject

Freddie falls in a puddle and can't get up (also this scene is way too long to quote all of it, but like THIS WHOLE SCENE MAN 😭💕)

“Jesus, Fred, are you alright?” Hands are on his back, his shoulders, trying to urge him up. Oh, how Freddie wishes Roger would just leave him alone (liar, the warm and tiny and inextinguishable gleam of hope inside him whispers).

“Fine,” he mumbles as he lies face down in the mud, waiting, praying for the earth to swallow him up.

“Freddie, come on, get up.” The hands tug a little harder. And then, when Freddie just shakes his head, Roger’s hands slide under his armpits, and he is hauled upright with a frustrated, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

It’s this that does it. All ability to contain himself evaporates.

“I hate this so much!”

The words explode out of him. He can hear how his voice sounds, shrill, pathetic, whiny. Useless. But he can’t stop himself. “I hate everything about this. My ankle hurts and my arm hurts and I want proper tea with milk, and a bath, and my bed, and Tom and Jerry, and a slice of toast that is actually toasted and I… I just want to go home.”

It’s a small mercy that he can blame any wetness on his cheeks on the rain. Not that it will do him much good. He is throwing a tantrum at the worst possible moment, and Roger is going to do what he always does when Freddie is being unreasonable - walk out, have a smoke, come back an hour or two later when the storm has blown over.

Only if he leaves now, Freddie will melt into the ground and never come up again.

---

A special mention goes to a Doctor Who fic which is probably my favourite angsty fic of all time, because even though I'm not active in the Who fandom right now, I'm still Doctor/Master trash. And Locked in Orbit by @nicolauda (I think this is yours? Correct me if wrong) is one of the best goddamn pieces of writing with that ship that exist for me.

#Fic recs #Angsty moments #ask response #Phew that was hard

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irwinkitten · 5 years

Text

trouble | c.h

notes: soooooo there was a conversation in writersos gc and ya gal got lowkey inspired and wrote a small snippet and nearly murdered the entire chat. sO with that in mind, this was born and i’m not even sorry. warnings: smut lmao word count: 4k!

---

It felt like her day was never going to end.

By the time her shift had finished, she knew that the evening was going to take its toll on her. Knowing that the next day needed to be a stress free as possible, she knew that she was going to be planning her outfit and getting everything ready for the Calum's work party.

Part of her was proud of the organisation. More often than not, she left it last minute and was often found scrambling to get her stuff together. But Calum had pleaded with her, eyes wide and peppered kisses across her cheek and jaw.

She couldn't say no.

Before she could even sit down once she was through her doors, she headed upstairs to here her dress was. She'd hidden it from Calum, begging with him to let it be a surprise for him to enjoy and in turn, he'd agreed and had given in, allowing her to keep her dress a secret.

It hadn't taken much to double check that there was nothing wrong with the dress. She still couldn't believe that she had it. Calum had handed her his card and almost begged her to let him spoil her. And part of her hoped that the dress would be put to use again, so with that in mind, she'd taken his card and made the purchase.

Part of her still felt guilty, but Calum had quietened her worries and promised that there would be no big gifts from him if that made her uncomfortable.

He knew the anxiety that surrounded her when it came to money, knowing that she budgeted for everything that she did in her life, including going out with Calum and his friends.

The evening was spent relaxing in the bath, glass of wine and a soft playlist going. She exchanged a few texts with Calum, but she knew that he was doing his own last minute prep for the next day, so she didn't try to demand his attention.

It was an early night for her, everything entirely relaxed. It hadn't been often she could feel this relaxed, and often, the only way she got this kind of relaxation was when she was wrapped around Calum. Not that he minded, or at least, he never indicated otherwise, but it was nice to be able to relax without another warm body next to her.

The next morning, her phone had exploded in notifications.

The first set of notifications had confused her. Her friends had sent texts, asking if Calum was okay. Then she saw the instagram notification and she clicked it, her eyes studying the newest photo he'd posted.

"What the fuck Cal." She murmured to herself as she studied the photo, her lips curving into a small grin at the boomerang.

'Looking handsome there.' She couldn't resist the comment on the photo, a laugh escaping as his name popped up in her messages.

'Always handsome for you, angel. You like? Figured I'd try something new for the event tonight.'

As she began to type out her reply, she deleted it as an idea crossed her mind.

Switching to her camera, clicking the video option, she hit the record button and quietly climbed out of bed, making her way to where she'd lain her underwear out the previous night.

Her fingers trailed over the satin bra, a soft giggle escaping knowing how much he loved seeing her in that bra. Taking the matching pants that were with it, she moved over to her underwear drawers, putting the item back into the draw.

"That's how much I like it, baby. See you later." She clicked stop and sent the video to him.

His reply came through within minutes.

'You're in so much trouble later, sweetheart.'

That one sentence sent the butterflies off in her stomach. She wouldn't back down on this and he knew it. And it was partly why she enjoyed this game.

'Am I really in trouble or are you just pouting because you can't get off yet?' She knew it was a risky text to send him. It was certainly set the tone of the night.

His reply was instant.

'Trust me princess, you're in big trouble. See you later, love.' A delicious shiver went down her spine in excitement at the prospect of the rest of the evening and then realised that her mind was running away with fantasies of her boyfriend.

"Fuck."

—

The day seemed torturously slow for both of them.

She’d sent him photos of her process, knowing that teasing him like so would only mean payback later, but it was payback she wanted him to dish out.

And he knew this.

When he finally arrived to pick her up, the company having provided cars for the evening, he was lost for words when she descended the stairs after he’d called up to her.

His throat had grown dry as he watched her, the coy smirk sending unbidden fantasies rushing through his mind as she finally reached him. Her hand gently traced his jaw before she pushed it up, closing his lips that he hasn’t realised had fallen open.

“It’s not often I can leave you that speechless.” She murmured and he chuckled, breathless and amazed.

“You look stunning.” He finally got out and her fingers moved to his hair, her fingers running through the short strands.

“Nothing compared to how you look tonight, handsome. We mere mortals should recognise when we’re blessed with the presence of a god.” The tease was light, making his lips curve into a smile.

“Aphrodite has nothing on your beauty.” Was all he could come back with, making her giggle as her lips finally met his.

“We have a party to attend my good sir, how about we get going?” He grinned, offering his arm out to her and she took it.

It was only in the car did he appreciate the dress, the slit in it running up to her mid thigh and he had to stop his fingers from wandering like he so desperately wanted. He knew there was nothing underneath, knowing that she would keep to that promise of leaving that underwear piece in the draws.

But he knew his restraint wouldn’t last the night. And she was playing on that.

He held back a groan. She would be the death of him, he was certain.

When the car reached the event, of course there would be journalists, photographers and a red carpet. He could see the other three with their dates and held back a sigh.

“You’ve got work to do, stop being so miserable. You get me for the rest of the night.” It was like she’d read his mind, and the smirk she wore told him no different.

He exited the car first, holding his hand out to her, helping her out from his side and she flashed him and appreciative smile as flashes began to go off, his name being called over and over.

Ignoring the yells of his name, his arm slid around her, hand resting on her lower back as they headed to where the others were waiting.

“Good you’re all here.” The runner eyed each of the boys speculatively.

“How are we going to do this?” Calum finally prompted, irked by the lingering eyes. It was like it’d been forgotten they each had dates.

“Right, yes.” The runner flushed in embarrassment. “It’ll be group shots first and then your dates can join you. Luke then Michael, then Ashton and finally Calum.” Calum’s eyes met Ashton’s who rolled his own and Calum tried not to smirk at his friends annoyance.

They moved forward for the group shots, briefly blinded by the camera flashes and their names being called out.

It was easy for him to block it out.

When he finally pulled away with Michael and Ashton, watching as Sierra made her way over to Luke, his arms moved around her, lips pressing to her cheek in a soft moment.

“You can skip on this part if you want.” His words were whispered and she turned to face him, a grin on her lips.

“I think I’m going to allow myself to be a little bit petty tonight and outshine you in those photos tomorrow.” He could see her nerves, the way her teeth caught the corner of her lips.

Lifting his hand, he brushed his thumb over, pulling the skin free from her teeth.

“You outshine me six ways to Sunday, love. One of those talents being restricted to the bedroom, but they don’t need to know that.” Her body relaxed and he was grinning at the pout she wore.

“Only one? I mean, I can never compare to you eating me out, but I have more than one talent in the bedroom.” She barely moved her lips, voice quiet and Calum laughed as his lips moved to her ear.

“Trust me sweetheart, I know you do. But like I said, they don’t need to know that, or know how you like to play with fire,” his hand slid over the curve of her ass, “or how you enjoy potentially being caught.”

The softest moan escaped her, and had he not been so close, he would’ve missed it.

“You can’t leave a girl hanging, Hood.”

“Trust me baby, you’re going to be desperate when we get back into that car.”

His name was finally called and he had to think of something other than her, beneath or above him. He did not need journalists being vulgar about his hard on or those kind of photos floating around, making people aware of what he did within his relationship.

He stepped forward with her, keeping his face neutral until she quietly asked him for one photo with a smile. His gaze turned down to her and she met it evenly, and he couldn’t stop his lips from curving upwards.

Her lips matched his, and the shouting increased as he dipped his head, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Anything for you, love.”

—

She knew that he was keeping a tight hold of his control and will power, especially with his hand resting so high up, the slit on the dress at first being a good idea, but now her mind had conjured images which made the idea get moved to great instead of good.

There was one of the executives up on the stage, prattling on about the success of the company, mostly attributed to the success of the artists. But her mind couldn’t hear his words, not when she felt Calum’s fingers slide higher and dipping under the fabric of her dress.

She knew her heart was pounding loudly, and an errant thought crossed her mind, wondering if anyone else could hear the thundering heart that felt like it was trying to claw its way out from her chest.

And then she felt his scruff on her earlobe and cheek, his lips do dangerously close to her ear.

“Not a sound, princess.” Her lips pressed together, a slow inhale and exhale before she forced herself to relax as she tried not to let out a noise as two fingers slid into her.

She tried to laugh at the stupid jokes, the sound disjointed from the group. This earned a few looks from the rest of the band as she took a swig of water.

“You alright?” Ashton whispered across the table and she forced a smile onto her lips as a thumb was added to her clit.

“Yeah, just a dry throat is all.” He nodded before his eyes returned to the stage and she let out a slow breath of relief as she felt the familiar tightening in her abdomen.

Leaning on his shoulder, making it look like she was simply leaning to kiss his cheek or talk, she let her lips graze his earlobe.

“Please sir, I’m so close.” She had to swallow the whine. He didn’t look at her, but he nodded and she felt her whole body tense before she came, her forehead resting on Calum’s shoulder, lips parted in a soft ‘oh’ sound as he slowly worked her through her orgasm.

Teeth pressing into her bottom lip to stop the noise escaping as he pulled his fingers from her, she watched as ducked his head, as if he were going to tie his shoes up and she could feel that shiver rolling down her spine as he cleaned his fingers.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” She finally grumbled as he sat back up, throwing his arm over the back of her chair.

She shifted closer, allowing her head to rest against his chest and he chuckled quietly.

“The feeling is entirely mutual, sweetheart.” He hummed as they returned their attentions to the stage, watching as the the band was mentioned along with their success.

She watched in mild amusement as they asked the four of them to come up to say a few words and after good natured ribbing from the other artists that were attending, they all trouped up to the stage.

Each of them saying a few words was enough to hold the attention of the audience, and she couldn’t stop her wide grin as Calum spoke, his eyes searching the room before they found her. And as his lips curved up into a smirk around his words, she couldn’t help but think how handsome and powerful he looked up on that stage.

—

Once the speeches were out of the way and people were free to mingle and dance, Calum had kept his arm around her waist, his fingers keeping a firm grip on her hip as he spoke with other artists and executives.

He ignored her hidden looks that she gave him when others attentions were away from him.

It was getting increasingly difficult to keep his attention on the figures that were being rattled off when she pressed herself closer to him, her feather light touches setting his stomach alight with butterflies as he laughed along the others, having missed the joke completely, but didn’t want to be caught out.

“Cal, please.” She finally breathed in his ear and he glanced at the clock before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Ten more minutes angel, then we can ditch. And I can promise you that I’m going to get you back.” He watched in amusement as her lips pulled down into a pout, but she didn’t argue with his words.

He did the rounds once more, his eyes watching the clock before making his excuses and ducking from the conversation with various members of the different managers that were apart of the team.

His eyes caught Ashton’s, earning a smirk from the red head. Calum shrugged in return at the smirk before he took his girls hand and the two of them ducked from the room. They headed to where the valet was, both breathless and giggly.

He could feel the exhilaration through his veins as he felt his phone vibrate.

“Hood.” He told the amused personnel who radioed through with his name.

A car pulled up and as his phone began to vibrate a second time, he ushered her into the car, both of them laughing as the car peeled away. He pulled out his phone to see texts from his bandmates and two missed calls from his manager.

He answered the third call.

“Calum, where the fuck have you gone?”

“Not feeling well, heading home.” He responded, feeling her press her face into his chest to muffle her giggles.

“You know you can’t just ditch something-”

“Luke, Ashton and Michael are still there. I stayed long enough that it wouldn’t be considered rude. Now, I’m gonna go be sick.” He hung up the call and the two of them collapsed into giggles, his arm wrapped around her as the car weaved through the late night streets with ease.

“Yours then?” She asked quietly once she recognised the roads.

“Apparently. You’ve got enough stuff at mine so don’t fret.” He smirked at her and she could feel her breath catch.

“Not what I meant, but I’ll take what I can get.” She fired back and he groaned, feeling his earlier thoughts return full force and she noticed almost immediately.

The music suddenly got louder and he vaguely reminded himself to tip the driver as her hand palmed him, his lips by her ear as he let out a soft groan.

“You’re killing me.” He finally got out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop the movements. She grinned at him, the smirk on his lips showing she knew exactly what she was doing.

The car jolted to a stop and Calum wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed or grateful as she slid from her side first. He chucked a couple of bills into the front seat, since the music was still going full blast and he had to adjust himself slightly so he could follow her to his front door.

He pinned her to the door before he unlocked it, his lips on her neck a her fingers scraped along his scalp, a half strangled noise escaping her lips as his fingers slipped through the split in her dress and this time her fingers moved from his hair to his wrist.

“I might enjoy potentially getting caught but you are not doing this in full view of you neighbour, even if they are asleep.” She gasped out and he smirked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

The door opened, and they stumbled in, together, her giggles breathless as she toed off her heels whilst he locked the door.

He switched on the hallway light and under the light, he saw the fresh marks he’d left on her neck, a smirk growing on his lips as he trailed his fingers across the reddened skin, listening as her breathing hitched slightly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured, fingers moving to curve under her chin. Tilting her head back, his lips met hers, and they parted so easily under his touch. Her own hands were wrapped around his waist, her hands having slid under his jacket, scratching gently at his clothed back and he could feel the last vestiges of his will power disappear.

“Upstairs, sweetheart.” He breathed once he pulled his lips away and she took a few steadying breaths before heading upstairs.

—

She knew that he was seeing to Duke, making sure the dog wouldn’t interrupt their time. It had happened once and they’d both lost any interest, especially with her laughter echoing around because the small dog would not let her near Calum.

However over time he lost his possessiveness over Calum and had accepted her eventually. Calum had been amused when they’d once returned home and Duke had greeted her first, ignoring Calum completely.

Leaving the dress on, she sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the footfalls as Calum finally followed her up the stairs. When he pushed the door open, she found most of her thoughts disappearing at the sight of him in his slacks and white button down, the top three buttons undone.

“Look at you, lookin’ all pretty.” He slowly undid his belt, chucking it to the side as she reached out, hooking her fingers through the loops on the trousers.

“Same could be said about you.” She murmured as he bent down, his lips capturing hers briefly.

“Nothing on you, sweet girl.” He got onto his knees, his fingers pushing the dress up with ease. He pressed open mouthed kisses to her thighs as he worked his way up, her fingers running through his hair before switching to his shoulders, her fingers gripping him as he crept closer to where she desperately wanted him.

“Cal please.” The opened mouthed kisses turned into bites and she moaned.

Seconds later, he shifted her legs over his shoulders, his tongue licking up her folds before pushing in, moaning softly which triggered her own moan off her fingers finding purchase on the sheets beneath her as he ate her out.

He switched around a few times, his thumb moving to her clit and she knew she was so close to the edge, her whimpers only increasing as he pulled away, his thumb still circling around.

“Look at you dirty girl, still in your dress and making a mess. Tell me sweetheart, is this what you like? When I have you begging? When you’re so needy?”

“Please, please let me cum.” Her words were breathless and he hummed in assent.

“Cum for me pretty girl, tell me how I make you feel.”

“So good-oh fuck, Cal.” His lips had returned to their previous position and she fell over the edge, her legs trembling as he continued to lick her clean, pulling away when her hips jolted and he chuckled as her fingers moved from the bed to under his chin.

He didn’t expect her to dip her head and lick the remnants off his face before her lips met his and he groaned.

“What do you want, princess?”

“You to fuck me.” Came the bold response and he chuckled against her lips as he pulled away fully, reaching to pull his shirt off.

Once he was on two feet, he unbuttoned his slacks before pushing them down, boxers and all. He helped her stand, spinning her so that her back was pressed against his chest.

His hands rested on her waist for a moment before he allowed them to slide between them, taking ahold of the zipper. As he pulled it down, his lips found her neck and a soft moan escaped as he began to work on the skin available to him until her dress had dropped to the floor.

He wasted no time in unhooking her bra. Any other time, she would’ve been annoyed, but she could feel how hard he was, and she knew that as much as it was his favourite, there was a level of patience and he’d surpassed his.

At first his fingers were on her clit, working her up before he finally spoke.

“Hands and knees, princess.”

She didn’t argue as she got on her on her hands and knees on the bed. He teased only a moment, his cock teasing her folds before pushing into her roughly, earning a loud moan as his pace had her arms shaking. She knew that she wouldn’t last long, and when his fingers slipped around her waist, sliding to her clit as he kept up his pace, she could only moan his name in response.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” She was gone, her arms shaking as he kept his pace. She knew her arms were going to give out, her whimpers loud and echoing as he gently grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up so that her back was against his chest once more.

“Choke me, Cal.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his fingers wrapping around her throat and the pleasure that was buzzing through her veins increased tenfold as he applied a small amount of pressure, the bite of his rings sending her into overdrive as she felt the tears gather in the corner of her eyes.

“Baby, please.” Her whine was met with his grunts, hips stuttering before he came, her own orgasm following after and she could feel her body sag forward slightly.

His grip shifted almost immediately, his arms wrapping around her body as he pulled out, their bodies falling to the bed.

He pulled her tightly to his body as she let her head rest on his chest, a soft groan escape her.

“If this is what I get for that stunt of putting my underwear back, I need to do it more often.” She finally muttered and Calum could only laugh as he helped her off the bed and helped clean her up.

“C’mon then princess, let’s get ourselves cleaned up and in the morning I’m definitely treating you to breakfast.”

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @glitterprincelu , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @cosmocalum , @monsteramongmikey , @talkfastfletcher , @hereforlukescruff , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @5saucewho , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @empathycth , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @sunny-sos , @negative-love , @softboycal , @kinglycalum , @you-of-ghost , @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @drummerboy794 , @itjustkindahappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts, @abitloudforanaccousticset, @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @dweebluke , @calumculture , @lashtoncurls , @wildhearthood , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @zooniah , @cakeassx-blog , @paqueretteash , @rotten-kandy , @vipclifford , @musiclover1263 , @rosecoloredash , @jpgluke , @cathartichaoss , @5secondssofssummer , @daisy-jen , @balsamichood , @cliffordstxngue , @lukesbellas , @myloverboyash , @cxddlyash , @gabiatthedisco , @rosesfromcth , @gorgeouslygrace , @calumsssparkle , @valentinelrh , @meetashthere , @softforcal , @cakesunflower , @hotmessmichael , @fangirlforever0704 , @caswinchester2000 , @long-termplanwithshort-termfixes , @josierosie , @ashtoniwir , @raabiac , @burncrashbromance , @killerlukesqueen , @angelbabylu , @heartbreak-5sos , @geeksareunique , @singledadharrington , @singt0mecalum , @sugarcoated-pain , @sublimehood , @americanhorrorstudies , @moonchildsblack , @uncrownedqueeen , @softforluke , @lostincalum , @colourfulcalum , @calpops , @5sosnsfw

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