#it probably would’ve happened if only ILLUMINATION APPROVED

[pastasilly]

the bowuigi tag rn

[neo-culture-mafia]

[ 1 : 50 ] “5 minutes. that’s all I want.” Jisung groaned as he held the door shut with all of his might. “no. boss said you have to train me and we’re leaving tonight and I don’t know what the heck to do on a mission.” you were pushing against the door. “that’s not my problem-” “yes it is!” you gave one final push into his room where he tried to escape from you.

you stood there with an annoyed jisung just staring at your presence. “out, associate.” “no.” you sat on the ground with your arms crossed. jisung resorted to throwing his head up to the ceiling and letting out an obnoxiously loud groan. “what’s going on?” a tired looking jaemin appeared in the doorway and you both looked to him for guidance.

“he was told to train me-” “the associate bothering me and being annoying-” “and we’re leaving tonight and I don’t know what to do-” “I need some me time!” Jisung shouted at you as you refused to move from his floor. “just train them today and take tomorrow off.” Jaemin tried to reason with his younger brother. “if they weren’t so annoying,” Jisung looked at you to make sure you heard him, “I would do that. I want them gone now though.” Jisung sighed and Jaemin just looked at the two of you.

“whatever. work it out. we leave in 6 hours.” and with that- Jaemin shut the door and you two were alone.

Jisung flopped down onto his bed in his young-adult anguish as he realized you were still sitting on his carpeted floor.

he lifted his head up and groaned once more. “I thought you’d maybe have gotten bored already and just left.” Jisung muttered and sat up at the end of his bed. “what do you need to know, associate?” he rubbed his eyes with a yawn.

“well, I’ve never gone on a mission before. so-”“everything, basically.” Jisung cut you off but you quickly nodded and he was sent reeling back with another whine.

~~

“Jisung and y/n: decoys that are assisting donghyuck.” you got your assignment and was automatically whisked off with Jisung at the hand of donghyuck. you were thrown in a seat and donghyuck was automatic beating your face with makeup.

the room became more and more fuzzy as you realized this was actually happening. “you okay, jwi?” Donghyuck asked. you looked over and caught glimpse of Jisung who was nearly as white as paper. all color had drained from his face and his eyes were as big as tea plates. donghyuck was still preoccupied with getting your cosmetics on that he had to leave Jisung on his own.

“yep. feel great.” Jisung smiled weakly but you met his eyes— his gaze immediately reeling down to the floor. “shit. I left the scar wax in my classroom.” donghyuck froze, turning and pointing at you. “don’t move. I’ll be right back.” he waved off and ran out of the marble floored lobby.

you swung your body to the side so you were facing a slightly swaying Jisung— growing pailer by the second. “hey, jisung.” you called, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. “thank you.” you called and his face released it’s tense expression with a nod.

you took his silence as the conversation cap and swung back forward on the chair. “oh, associate.” Jisung called quietly, “try not to die,” his head rolled towards you where his eyes were now half of their normal size, “that’s a lot paperwork I don’t have time for.” he yawned and you could only nod at his bullshit request.

donghyuck returned and Jisung was out of his seat, walking outside. “is he ok?” Donghyuck asked as he shaped you a new nose. you could only shrug as the nervousness started to sink in.

~~

you, jisung, and donghyuck walked the enemy compound with heads held high. fake id badges sat in the pocket of your coat and a handgun was strapped to your thigh.

everything was going smooth. until…

“guys. i can’t see.” you and donghyuck looked back to see a wide-eyed and pale Jisung swaying and trying to grip onto the smooth white walls of the compound. you didn’t even think and jogged over to slip your arm around his waist.

“it’s okay. you’re okay, I got you.” you whispered as to not alert any enemy triad members on the surrounding halls. “why can’t i see?!” Jisung’s voice was now raising, while Donghyuck started radioing back to Chenle who was in the control and communications van outside of the compound limits.

“Jisung, you have to remain calm and try to breath-” “are the lights off?” Jisung whispered in a frantic tone, “no, jisung. you’re about to pass out. you’re fighting it.” you reasoned with him which just made him freak out more.

“I need to go get Mark and Jeno to help us.” Donghyuck pulled you aside. “you need to find a safe space and cover both of you till I get back.” you nodded and helplessly watched as Donghyuck frantically walked away in search for other team members.

you couldn’t fuck this up. it was now or never. no more practicing and worrying, for it would be worth more than the approval of your boss— it would be worth both of your lives.

“Jisung, you have to fight against it a little longer. then we can get help and get us both out of here.” you tried reasoning with an almost unconscious Jisung.

you looked around for anything that could be used as a safe space and laid eyes on a storage room. “come on, Jisung.” you dragged him to the room and pulled him in with much struggle.

as soon as you had closed the door, jisung plummeted to the ground— bringing you with him.

he had fell so his head was shielded by your stomach. “are you still awake?” you asked and he could only groan. “its okay. just rest.” you had felt his forehead to feel flames dancing across his skin. “Oh my you’re burning up.” you whispered and moved his head to the ground softly as you searched for a light switch.

you felt around the dark in fear but flipped the first switch you felt to be met with brilliant lights illuminating the whole room. Jisung laid semi-conscious on the floor, reaching for something that wasn’t there.

“I’m so tired.” he groaned, smacking the ground around him. “here, lay and rest for a little bit before help comes.” you took of your jacket and tried putting it under his head, yet, he had other arrangements in mind.

“lights. off.” he snapped as he painfully moved to reach something on his tactical belt. he held up a flashlight and you were already turning the lights off as he turned the flashlight on.

he set up the heavy metal flashlight in the metal storage shelves as a makeshift light beam and it made you realize. it made you realize how tough the elites were. Jisung was fighting unconsciousness to try and think of how to make a light beam— of course it’s not rocket science but you knew you would’ve been down for the count once you had lost your vision— probably not even getting that far.

Jisung sat up and tried to shake the icky feeling from his body but was having no luck. he knew he was going to be going down again...and very soon.

“you. corner.” he pointed to the corner at the opposite end of the room. “wh-what?” “just go sit in the corner, y/n.” your name falling from his lips made you falter as you realized how he called you.

you didn’t say anything as you followed his directions by sitting in the corner, your back to the dusty crevice.

you watched in awe as he dragged his own body closer and closer to you. “do you need help?” you asked but he only shook his head in response. you watched as he grit his teeth and pulled himself the last meter— staring straight in your face.

he silently turned around and sat himself in your lap. letting his stature consume your entire figure. he finally let out a sigh of relief as his vision began to darken again. “Donghyuck said I had to watch over you, though.” Jisung didn’t let your statement effect him. “no matter what happens. you do not move from this spot.” Jisung had labored breaths as he tore his gun from his holster, setting it by your foot.

“you don’t move even if the enemy is barreling in that door.” Jisung looked towards the door that held both of your guys’ lives in safety and security, “do I make myself clear?” he asked, trying to lean back farther as to cover your existence from the world. “yes.” you answered and it became quiet.

you held onto the back of Jisung’s shirt every time you heard someone pass by the door. it had been an hour already and the guys still weren’t back.

“y/n?” Jisung’s quiet voice made you jump in surprise, “yes?” you answered back and a long sigh escaped his still limp and fragile body.

“I never meant what I said earlier.” he confessed, “you’re not annoying and I don’t care that you hang around me all the time.” his head rolled to the side so it was now resting on your shoulder.

“why are you telling me this?” you asked, “because— if not now…when?” he reasoned quietly, “I’ve always liked you. I just never had the chance to tell you properly.” the air became a little heavier.

“Ji, I don’t think this is the right place to have this conversation.” you reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes and off of his face. “fine. but you still owe me this talk when I get better.” he droned, “of course.” you agreed softly.

“now get some rest.” you patted his head a couple of more times. you felt his hand wrap around your ankles to keep himself steady as he let himself go and be consumed by his sickness. yet, as long as he had you right next to him—he would fight it off silently to make sure you truly wouldn’t be sitting alone in the dark.

[hearteyes-candyskies]

Houseplant

yandere enji x reader

summary; since enji took you, you’ve only really missed one thing; your houseplants. no, wait, not the houseplants themselves. you miss the control you had over them.

a/n; for @neroesecuzioni. thank you for supporting the blm global network! read the sequel here

tw; kidnapping, dub-con, nsfw

word count; 3.4k

🌱

Before Enji took you, all you had for company were your houseplants. Some hanging from the ceiling, spilling over the terracotta pots, other taller than you were with broad, glossy leaves. Some of them were tiny little succulents, pointy and dainty and smaller than the palm of your hand. All of them healthy and fresh and most importantly, alive. Alive by your hand and love. You miss them, the products of your hard work and love.

“Enji?” He grunts out a sound of acknowledgement, though his eyes don’t leave the laptop screen in front of him. 

“What happened to my houseplants?” At your question he finally looks up, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“What?” You fidget with the phone in your hand, debating whether or not to drop the subject and go back to pinning ideas for house decor. Something masochistic in you urges you on.

“My houseplants. You know the ones I used to have all over my apartment? Are they still there or?” You let your question trail off, tone light and neutral, but you can see a muscle in Enji’s jaw twitch. He doesn’t like talking about your life before him. Sometimes you forget you had a life before him.

“The movers probably threw them out. Just put it on the card if you want to buy more.” His gaze is already back on the laptop screen, and while you wish he would’ve said more you can’t expect the number one pro hero to pull himself away from his work to answer your silly questions about some plants. 

You busy yourself with picking out the perfect plants to keep in a bathroom, imagining how cute they’ll look hanging from the ceiling and juxtaposed against the white tile of the shower wall. Leaves falling on the bathroom floor shouldn’t be a problem, but even if they do? Well, you do have to leave your mark in this house somehow. How else would you let Enji know that you’re living here?

🌱

You can’t stop thinking about your old houseplants. You know it’s stupid, especially when you have access to a virtually unlimited credit card and so much more space to fill in the new home, but still. As stupid as it sounds, you formed a connection with the plants you brought home. Home. This house is your home, not the cramped, slightly outdated apartment you used to live in.

You remember what it was like before Enji took you in and decided that you were going to be his wife. You lived lonely and unseen, just like your quirk, blending into corners and shadows. It was certainly convenient for your job and superiors, who were thrilled to have someone who could slip into just about anywhere. Needless to say, it didn’t work out great for your social life. 

You’re surprised that Enji even noticed you in the first place, a wallflower of a person. Maybe he has just been the first person bright enough to illuminate the depths of your personality that no one else saw. 

It’s strange. In a way, you feel more seen when you’re with him, like the light that he emits both figuratively and literally has finally allowed you to bloom. God, your life fucking sucked if you think being kidnapped did wonders for your mental health. Not to say that it hasn’t but still, it’s the thought that counts.

Enji loves you. That’s the only thought that counts.

🌱

“What made you notice me first?” You play idly with straw in your drink, trying to contain your anticipation at hearing something wonderful about yourself that you never noticed. He gives the slightest shrug of his shoulders. 

“I don’t know. You were pretty enough. Lonely. Quiet. You seemed nurturing enough to be a good mother.” Your fingers still.

“Oh.” You’re embarrassed that you can’t hide the disappointment in your voice, but even worse, you’re embarrassed that you even asked. What romantic response were you expecting from a man who kidnapped you? Enji gives no sign of noticing your crestfallen face, and you quietly excuse yourself to go and shower. 

It’s when the warm spray of the shower head hits you that you finally start to cry. What a naive foolishness to think that Enji had been the first to notice how remarkably lovely you were, to appreciate all of your hidden little quirks and oddities that made you indescribably beautiful. 

You’re a lonely, quiet, forgettable wallflower whose only gift for mothering is to do any job and be too timid to complain about it. Enji chose you because you were convenient and because he was lonely. That makes it two of you, you suppose. You clasp a hand over your mouth to try and stifle your sobs, but deep in the back of your mind you know that the sound of your cries wouldn’t be enough to draw Enji from his work. Not that he would know how to comfort you. You get the feeling he’s never had any positive interactions with his family before.

You can imagine exactly how it would go down if you confronted him right now, hair dripping wet and eyes puffy and red. He wouldn’t open his arms to embrace and soothe you, no, he would stand awkwardly with an almost comical look of alarm on his face before you approached him and only then would he gently pat your back until your crying subsided. Then he would avoid you for the next couple days. 

Enji doesn’t notice how quiet and withdrawn you are later that night, snuggled up to his side as the two of you watch the news. To be fair, even if he did notice he would still say nothing. It’s with that thought that you realize you’ve just traded one miserable, deeply lonely existence for another. Only now you have the privilege of being ignored by the one person who’s supposed to love you more than anything else. The one person that you thought you might have loved.

Except, you know that he’s never truly loved anyone before, never experienced any sort of love that would allow him to recognize the sensation and verbalize it. You don’t think that he felt anything more than neutrality towards Rei, who he put in a fucking mental hospital after she cracked under his abuse, and he sure as hell didn’t love his children, least of all Shouto, who you’ve seen interact willing with him a grand total of three times. 

When he first kidnapped you he promised never to hit you, never to raise his voice or threaten you. He just wouldn’t let you go. He told you he was trying to be a better man, a better husband, a better father. The last part had scared you in the beginning, back when you still believed you would be able to leave one day and continue your career. Hero-work has no place for kids. 

But now? That fear has grown into complacency, your original wariness of Enji into something similar to affection. You never fought him, ever, because, duh. You’re not stupid, you know exactly how it would end. This strange sort of begrudging attraction though? It’s a new annoyance, something that has you dying for his approval and only kept in check by your remaining pride. After the disastrous attempt to find out what he ‘loves’ about you though, your pride is pretty much gone. 

You...don’t know how to retrieve it, and the thought scares you. If you can’t have Enji’s love and affection, or your pride intact, what do you have? You know the answer, even if you won’t admit it.

You have nothing.

🌱

The copious amount of clothes you have astounds you; you knew that Enji had picked out quite a few basics before he took you but you forgot to factor in just how many things you had ordered since coming here. As you paw through your bin of socks and underwear you feel soft lace brush against your fingertips and out of curiosity you yank the piece of clothing from the bin. As soon as you realize what you’re holding you feel your cheeks flood with warmth and embarrassment. 

Cherry red lace and mesh stare at you, wrapped around a tangle of satin and lace in the same shade. You vividly remember buying this, a robe and underwear set that you had drooled over for months while living alone in your sad, cramped apartment. It had remained in your shopping cart for weeks; you just couldn’t justify dropping a little less than a grand on some scraps of fabric that no one would ever see. Once you remembered it and had access to Enji’s credit card, however… 

You don’t hesitate to try the set on, something you were too scared to do when you first got it. As you tie the robe closed with a pretty bow and do a little twirl you feel a girlish sense of enjoyment like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You run your hands up your thighs, finger lifting the hem of the robe seductively before you cup your breasts, cradled in concoction of satin and lace. You look good. 

Then you remember why you bought it and immediately want to rip the whole ensemble to shreds. You had bought it back when you were still under the delusion that Enji was wildly and fantastically in love with you and despite the fact that he kidnapped you with no regard for your say in the matter you were convinced that you were going to surprise and seduce him in the outfit. 

That being said… A half-baked idea forms in your head as you gently take the set off, folding it carefully before placing it in the top drawer of your dresser, easily accessible should you need it. You know Enji likes it when you sleep in the same bed as him at night, so what if you...surprised him? He would love it. He has to love it, he chose you for a reason so for him to reject you- 

You can’t even think about it, the distress in your chest building as you try and push the thought out of your mind. Yes, Enji may have ripped you from your life before him but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a life here. You know Enji likes to read to wind down before bed, so you’ll just catch him then. Yeah. You still have it in you. You can still make him love you.

🌱

Enji barely looks up from his book as you approach, head peeking around the doorframe like a child asking for a bedtime story. You suddenly feel extremely self conscious in your skimpy lingerie, seized by a desire to run back to your room and change and admit that you were wrong, you don’t have it in you to seduce him and even if you do he’ll never love you for it. 

But this is the only thing you can hold onto, the only part of yourself that you can regain control of. You steel yourself as you take slow, measured steps to the bed, heart pounding as Enji sets aside the book and takes in what you’re wearing.

“What are you doing?” His voice cuts through the air, sharp but not unappreciative, and rather than answer you crawl as seductively as possible on top of the bed.

You clamber on top of his broad chest, legs on either side of his waist. He’s paying attention now, eyes trained sharply on your face as large hands wrap around your waist, whether to hold you in place or move you off you can’t tell yet. You don't think that Enji even knows what he wants to do. Enji doesn’t know what he wants.

The silk of his boxers are thin enough that you can feel his growing arousal against your ass as you grind down, hands spread prettily across his chest. His hands tighten around you, and you take it as your cue to let out a breathy sigh. 

“Fuck me, Enji. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can feel it for days afterwards; I want you to cum inside of me so much that I can feel it dripping out of me afterwards.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palms as you gaze at Enji through half lidded eyes. More out of nervousness than an attempt to be sexy, you drag your teeth across your bottom lip, watching as his gaze darts straight to your mouth.

“What are you doing? Where is this coming from?” He sounds wary, guarded even, and you can’t blame him. In however long you’ve been here you’ve never tried to initiate any sort of sexual encounter, merely going along kind of lifelessly every time Enji wanted sex. It’s ironic that the very man who kidnapped you to be his wife is now being cautious about fucking you.

“I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck my pussy with your cock until I can’t take it anymore and then I want you to keep going until I can’t tell you to stop.” One hand travels downwards, toying with the waistband of his shorts. He looks unconvinced, almost like he knows that it’s not normal for a captive to want to have rough sex with their captor.

“Please, daddy.” You bend forward and whine into his ear, bucking your hips against his as you nip at his earlobe. It’s your last resort, and it works. Enji growls, honest-to-god growls against your neck before flipping you onto your back in an impressive show of power.

“You’re a fucking whore, coming onto me like that.” You’re already shrugging off your robe, flinging it across the room in an effort to salvage it. Enji burns the straps off your bra before yanking the panties so hard that they rip right off of you. Damn. There goes five hundred dollars. 

His lips are on yours before you can think of anything else, harsh and demanding as he cups the back of your head with a large, warm hand. For someone as aggressive as he is you’re surprised he doesn’t use teeth. Enji’s other hand reaches between your thighs, finding you almost embarrassingly dry. He doesn’t seem to mind, shoving two thick fingers in your mouth and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls eagerly round them. He presses deeper, taking pleasure in the way your throat spasms around them as you gag.

“You’re so beautiful. I knew from the second that I saw you that you would be mine.” That’s the first time he’s ever called you beautiful, or even complimented anything about your physical appearance. The praise goes straight to your head in the form of blood rushing to your cheeks, and Enji laughs at the way you squirm against him, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“You can ask me to fuck you but you can’t take a compliment?” He doesn’t let you respond, instead brushing over your clit with his thumb before working his fingers inside of you, curling and seeking out the rough little patch on your walls. You’re glad for the way Enji captures your mouth again, relieving you of the need to decide between fake moaning and laying in uncomfortable silence.

He goes until the sound of his fingers squelching in your slick is all you can hear, and your stomach starts to clench every time his hand moves. Enji hasn’t deliberately touched your clit throughout the whole process, but the pressure of the heel of his palm is enough to work you quickly to orgasm. Much like the overachiever he is in his job, Enji doesn’t stop playing with your sloppily wet pussy until your thighs are tensing around his wrist, one of your own hands reaching down to stop his. 

“Enji- Enji, oh, oh, Enji, stop-” Your moan is practically pornographic, the pleasure quickly becoming unbearable. His fingers finally stop, and he raises them to your mouth.

“Suck.” You comply without hesitation, reveling in the way that Enji can’t seem to tear his gaze from your mouth. You let go with a ‘pop’ before pressing a small, soft kiss to the calloused pads of his fingers. 

Strangely enough it’s this relatively meaningless action that brings the most emotion to Enji’s face; desire, guilt, and regret all flash across his face before he attacks your neck, sucking what you know will be dark bruises into your flesh. 

You can feel him grabbing his dick and positioning it so that the head is right above your twitching hole and-

“Enji!” You practically shriek as his hips surge forward, burying himself deep within you in one go. Your legs wrap tight around his waist and squeeze, arms coming up around his neck as you let out pathetic little gasps and moans. The sensation of what can only be his cock nudging against the opening of your cervix has your legs squeezing tighter until Enji growls and grabs both your calves in his hands before hiking them over his shoulder and pressing forward.

The new position has your legs twitching as Enji knocks against your cervix with every thrust, and you draw his head in closer as he churns up your insides. The sound is obscene; you’re the one producing it and you’re still embarrassed. 

Enji finally has the sense to reach between the two of you and rub at your clit, peeling back the hood with a surprising dexterousness before flicking gently upwards with his thumb. You feel yourself clenching down harder and harder each time he does it, until you’re finally spiraling into your second orgasm of the night. 

The feeling of your cunt clenching down on his has Enji murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as his thrusts speed up and the force behind them becomes almost punishing.

“Mine, you’re mine, mine, mine-”

“Tell me that you love me.” Your voice is breathy and whiny and you sound so desperate but Enji takes no heed, chasing his own orgasm.

“I love you, god you’re going to make a beautiful mother, you’re mine, I love you,” the rest of his words trail off into incoherent babbling as his body stiffens and you feel hot cum flood your insides. Despite your less than positive stance on having kids right now, you can’t bring yourself to care, replaying Enji’s words in your head. He loves you. He wants you. He loves you. He needs you.

He collapses on top of you, rolling onto his side to avoid crushing you but still gathering you up in his arms. You bury your face in his chest, hands trapped between your bodies, and sigh. Enji’s silent, blue eyes watch your face with something akin to warmth before reaching a hand out to brush hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“I can uh, I can get a birth control pill for you tomorrow if you want.” Part of you screams to take him up on an offer that you’ll likely never see again, but the other part of you can’t help but think how much a child would tie him to you. If you gave him a dual-quirked son? Enji would have no choice but to love and cherish you. You’d be giving him what he’s always wanted.

“Mm.” You make a non-committal noise, snuggling further into his body heat and leaving him to awkwardly tighten his embrace.

“Is that a yes?” This is the most uncertain you’ve ever heard Enji in your life, and knowing that you’re the cause for it sends an immeasurable amount of satisfaction coursing through your veins. You make him so weak. 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I want to cuddle.” Your voice is soft and sweet, and you glance at him through your lashes. His face is uncharacteristically open, allowing you to read every bit of uncertainty that flies across his face.

“Ok. Let me get a towel first.” You say nothing, just scooting back so that he can get off the bed. He returns with a warm, wet towel, wiping down your inner thighs with a tenderness you’ve never seen before throwing it in the laundry hamper, turning off the lights, and settling in beside you.

As you drift off to sleep, Enji holding you like you’re made of glass, you feel him press a light kiss to your forehead.

“I…” he seems to be searching for a way to express his affection, something he’s almost certainly never had to do before, “I enjoyed tonight.” You crack an eye open, observing how the iciness of his gaze has melted somewhat. A small smile creeps across your face.

“I enjoyed it too. Goodnight, Enji.” He runs a warm hand up and down your bare back.

“Goodnight.” A pause. “I love you, y/n.” You feel drunk on power at the sound of your name from his lips. 

“Love you too, Enji.” 

[almostkoo]

pairings: jung hoseok x oc

summary:  oc notices something strange about hoseok, their friend who’s normally upbeat and cheerful suddenly things start going left quickly in the middle of using a ouija board for fun with friends things get really weird really quick

word count: 2.0k

warnings: language, mentions of wine, a switchblade is mentioned a few times, demon possession 

authors note: fifth story!! of spooktober i hope you guys don’t mind i threw in one of my favorite kpop girlies, i love her so much. this is my first time in general really trying to write something “scary”, i hope i did well i didn’t want to overdo it! i hope you guys enjoy !

link to main masterlist

You, Hoseok, Jungkook and Nayeon stood outside the door leading to the basement of you and Hoseok’s shared house. Anxiety washed over your being and clung to you like a wet blanket. You couldn’t shake the fear that something bad was going to happen. Standing in the back of everything gave you a better view of everyone. Jungkook was dressed in all black (with the exception of his pink bunny slippers on his feet), Hoseok dressed in his pajamas and Nayeon dressed comfortably in an oversized shirt and joggers.

The impromptu “seance” that was about to be performed in the basement interrupted everyone. Nayeon and Hoseok who were in the middle of doing sheet masks and you in the kitchen pouring up refills of wine for everyone while Jungkook had disappeared moments before only to return with a ouija board.

Now here you were Jungkook with the ouija board tucked under one arm and his hand on the door knob waiting for everyone’s approval to open the door.

“Jungkook, why are we doing this?” Nayeon asked.

“Why not? Y/n and Hoseok say their house is haunted. What better time to investigate than at a slumber party with their friends? Especially during spooky season? The more the merrier!” He smiled.

“Our house isn’t haunted. Ghosts don’t exist, you clown. It’s probably old water pipes or some shit making all those weird noises.” You grumbled.

“Water pipes? Okay what about all the moaning Hoseok heard? Or the last time Nayeon was here and someone wrote in her lipstick on the bathroom mirror while she was showering?” Jungkook questioned. You sighed loudly to make a point on how exhausted you were with the back and forth discourse between you and Jungkook on whether or not the house was haunted.

“I feel like you want our house to be haunted.” you said.

“No but if it is you both need to get the hell out of dodge before shit starts getting real. The lipstick on the mirror would’ve been enough to send me flying out the house.”

“Same and I normally stay out of this whole ghost discussion but.. that’s really odd Y/n you can’t even lie.” Nayeon stated. You glanced over at Hoseok who was turned away from you, picking at the hem of his shirt. You and Hoseok had been living in your current home for three months and about two weeks into your stay things started getting extremely weird. From you finding him standing out on the balcony in the pouring rain, the weird arts and crafts figurines he would make and that one time you found him ready to take a bite out of a raw steak out the fridge.

But he passed that last one off as him being drunk.

You didn’t believe in ghosts or demons or really too much supernatural stuff. But the strange behaviors that Hoseok had been portraying alarmed you. You weren’t quite sure what exactly was going on. You hadn’t seen him smile in weeks and it was worrying.

“Fuck it. If we’re doing this can we go on and do it because I really wanna get back to my wine.” you whined. Jungkook opened the door, reaching for the light switch. Only to flick it and realize the light in the basement wasn’t working.

“How much weirder could this shit get.” you heard Jungkook mumble under his breath, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. You all slowly stepped down the stairs. Taking a look around the basement it was fairly empty except a pair of skis and other miscellaneous belongings split between you both.

Jungkook cleared a spot in the middle of the floor. The only light was from the small basement windows lining the walls.

“Do you not owe any candles or a lantern?” Jungkook asked.

“Hoseok has some of those boring non scented ones in the kitchen cabinet above the stove.” You glanced over at Nayeon who quickly started shaking her head and waving her hands.

“No. Hell no. Don’t make me go up there.”

“Nayeon please.”

“What if I run up there and then the spooky ghost haunting you gets me ?”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. But like we haven’t been harmed yet.”

She stomped her feet. “If something happens I’m haunting everyone here.” Nayeon dashed up the steps. Hearing a little bit of shuffling before she came back carrying as many candles as she could.

“You’re lucky I remembered the lighter while I was up there because that trip wasn’t happening again.” You lit all of the candles before settling and sitting down. Hoseok, blank faced had already sat down as soon as you all made it down the steps scooted closer to you all.

“Alright let’s get it.” Jungkook took the ouija board out of its box, putting the planchette on the board. You eyes the box.

“A fucking ouija from mattel is supposed to potentially tell us if this house is haunted?” You questioned.

“Where did you get this from? Target?” Nayeon asked.

Jungkook sighed, scratching at the sides of his hair.

“And if I did? Where else would I get it from? Amazon? Jeff Bezos isn’t seeing a dime of my Starbucks checks” He scoffed “look I'm sure you know how this whole ouija thing is supposed to go. Just like in the movies two fingers on the planchette. We say hello and don’t finish until we say goodbye. No moving the planchette for fun. I will have a heart attack and Jeon Jungkook will no longer exist. Alright?” Jungkook stated. You and Nayeon nodded.

Placing your two fingers on the planchette, followed by everyone else. So it began.

“Hello. Hi spirits we have questions.” Jungkook said, looking around the room. Nayeon hit his arm. Jungkook gave a quizzical look.

“Is that really how you’re gonna ask the higher powers?” she asked.

“I don’t know how the fuck else to address them. Hi spirits. Are you there?” he questioned. You looked around the room, watching your friends facial expressions. The mild drunk feeling that was over you quickly made you sober up as the air seemed to get colder around you.

The planchette slowly started moving towards the top left corner, the small glass hovering above the “yes”.

“Before we continue. Is anyone fucking with me right now?” Jungkook mumbled.

“No I swear I’m not.” Nayeon stated.

“No.” You all looked at Hoseok who was staring at the board blank, as if he wasn’t looking at anything in the first place.

“I think he’s drunk. Maybe he had too much wine. You know he’s a lightweight.” Nayeon cracked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Hoseok lacked the permanent blush he seemed to have when he did drink too much. But the glossy look to his eyes still remained. You shrugged it off but the look he had was eerily similar to the one he had on the night you found him on the balcony.

“Ask another question, Jungkook.” you said.

“Okay umh. Let’s just get to it. Are there any spirits lingering in this house?” The temperature dropped, causing a slight shiver to escape Nayeon. The planchette jerked back and circled back around to “yes”.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Nayeon whispered. “Jungkook are you fucking with us?”

“What? No! I swear to the heavens I wouldn’t fuck with you guys on something like this! I’m not moving it.” he said, both sets of eyes laid on you.

“Now y’all both know good and well I don’t even believe in this shit why would I fuck with you with this?” You said, borderline offended at them.

“Because that’s what non believers always do.” Jungkook stated.

“I’m a non believer not an asshole. Keep asking it questions.” you grumbled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Is there anything you want from this house?” The planchette pushed back, before slowly moving back to yes. You started sweating and the basement getting chillier by the second didn’t help as you tried to resist the full body chill that threatened to shake through you.

“What do you want?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. The planchette moved slow once again, going from letter to letter. You, Nayeon and Jungkook looked on.

H-O-S-E-O-K

You heard Nayeon gasp from the side of you. While your jaw just parted. Jungkook froze in his spot, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

“I don’t think I want to play this anymore.” Your eyes shot up to Hoseok, who looked at Jungkook with a wicked grin on his face.

“Uh Hobi. We can wrap up. But can you stop looking at me like that?” Jungkook said, a shake to his words.

Nayeon stared Hoseok down. “Something’s not right here.”

“What’s the matter, Nayeon? Aren’t we all playing a game?” Hoseok turned in her direction.

“Jungkook, wrap this shit up now.” You instructed, keeping your eyes on Hoseok. 

Before Jungkook could open his mouth, he suddenly flung backwards into the wall. The candles went out.

“I said I didn’t want to play anymore.” through the soft moonlight filtering through the windows you could see Hoseok stand up. You and Nayeon shuffled back against the wall. A few feet away from where Jungkook laid unconscious. Nayeon shuffled with her phone, the screen light illuminating her features. You could see the tears streaking her cheeks. The flashlight turned on shining on Hoseok; his soft brown eyes were now cold and empty, a black void.

“What the fuck are you?” Nayeon yelled, struggling to keep her cool.

“What do you think I am?” He questioned, stalking towards you.

“Stay the fuck away from us! I mean it!” You shouted. The fear you felt ran through your veins icy and cold. Making you want to curl up and wish the situation away.

Hoseok reached in his pocket, pulling out a small switchblade.

“I think it’s time to slice, I’m sorry I mean spice things up.”

You threw yourself in front of Nayeon, remaining firm despite her protests asking you to move.

“Aw isn’t this cute? You want to protect your friend.” Hoseok’s lips curved into his signature heart shaped smile. One that normally wanted your heart, filled you with even more dread than possible. That smile didn’t belong to him. It. Whatever was in your best friend.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, the smile dropping from his face as quick as it showed up. “I don’t even remember the last time I had friends.” He walked towards you and Nayeon, who’s hands gripped your shoulders. Preparing for the worst you closed your eyes.

Suddenly another voice filled the basement. You opened your eyes, there stood Jungkook your knight in shining armor. Well more like knight in plaid pajamas but attire was besides the point. You watched as Jungkook held his hands up muttering words in foreign language as Hoseok froze rigid, slowly lifting off the ground. The switchblade falling from his grip. A dark purple smoke escaped his mouth before shattering one of the glass windows. Hoseok’s body slumped to the ground and Jungkook dropped to his knees.

You got up running to Hoseok to check him out. Holding a finger up under his nose to feel soft air leave him. You draped yourself over him as he slowly stirred.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jung Hoseok never in your life get possessed by a demon again. I’ve never been more fucking scared before.”

Hoseok looked at you confused as he sat up, rubbing at his head.

“I don’t even know what’s going on. Last thing I remember was trying to figure out where to hang my jackets in my closet.” He said. That must mean he was possessed for a while. You frowned at the thought.

Jungkook and Nayeon walked over to you. Jungkook wiping his bloody nose on the back of his sleeve.

“You mind sharing where you learned that neat little trick?” You asked.

“My grandfather is a priest. Stuff like that kinda runs in the family.” Jungkook tilted his head back pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Am I going to be fine?” Hoseok asked, fear laced in his words.

“Yeah you might just not remember the past few months. But that demon is gone. Sent back to where the foul bastard came from.” Jungkook said.

“I am literally never spending the night here ever again. Not even for a million dollars.” Nayeon said.

“That’s a lie you’ll be back.” You chuckled.

“Make it two and maybe I will.” She smiled.

[orange-waterfalls]

Sleeping Beauty

Darkiplier x Wilford Warfstache

@grey-b0y ty for the request!(im sorry it took so long lol)

A/N: ight so. first time doin a ship. literally the best thing ive ever written. may like to do more. uhhhh Dark being an overworked bastard. Wilford being the caring boyf that he would be. Disney movies. If you couldn't already tell. Uhhhhh finished this in an hour, re-read it, may actually be the best thing I've ever made I'm ngl. Dark may be a bit OOC, but that's just cause he's a lil bit tired. uhhhhh yeah. Enjoy!

Requests are open

--

Dark let out a quiet sigh as he opened the door to his and Wilford’s house. He threw his suit jacket to the side with absolutely no fucks to give about where it landed. He stumbled through the house until he eventually landed in his office, plopping down in his chair and leaning back with a groan.

He had so much work he still had left to do, and it was already 9:00. He was so, so, so very tired. The egos had been especially annoying that week, all having the stupidest comments during meetings and refusing to shut up once they got started. Dark had noticed Wilford gave him a “look” whenever he saw the entity annoyed or angry. He didn’t want Wilford to worry, so he always brushed it off. In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to let Wil help him. They were in a relationship, after all. People are supposed to help those that they love. Dark never gave Wil much of a chance to do that. He felt bad for it at times.

Dark rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. He shook his head and cracked his neck and flexed his hands, trying to make himself more awake. “Trying” being the keyword here. He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop and computer mouse. He opened the laptop and opened a document of everything he was supposed to schedule, approve, and deny. He went through everything, the blue light illuminating his pale face, the bags under his eyes looking very prominent. Any person with eyesight and half a brain could see he was sleep-deprived and overworked.

He heard a noise come from somewhere in the house. He stopped clicking and raised his head a bit, trying to listen. Nothing else came. He shrugged lightly. He was probably just imagining things…

Probably…

Another noise. A THUMP. Louder this time. He took his hand away from the mouse and leaned back in his chair, watching the closed door of the office. He stared at it, waiting for another noise to show up.

The sound of shattered glass and Wilford cursing caused Dark to jump up out of his chair. He threw the door open and ran to the source of the noise.

“Wil!” He called as he stopped in the living room. The panicked look on his face died down into indifference and mild annoyance.

Wilford was laying on his back in the middle of the room, margarita glass in hand, with the window shattered and shards of glass surrounding him. He turned to Dark and smiled.

“Good evening, pumpkin!” He greeted joyfully. Dark exhaled deeply and walked over to Wilford. He had no problem with the glass because his shoes were still on. Wilford, apparently having some sort of supervision when it came to Dark, noticed this small fact. “Why do you have your shoes on? When did you get home?” Dark, ignoring the question, pulled Wilford to his feet.

“Where’s your key?” He asked, exasperated.

“Now, hold on. I asked you first. It’s not fair that I have to answer questions when you haven’t answered mine!” The reporter pouted. Dark rolled his eyes.

“Stuck in a meeting. Stuck in traffic. Got home a couple of minutes ago,” He sighed, “Where is your key, Wil?” Wilford looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on a clock. He let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Dark! It’s so late! You must be exhausted!” He said, cupping Dark’s face in his hands. He can’t help from melting into the touch of his favorite person.

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” Dark mumbled, obviously lying. Wilford frowned.

“Come along now, darling, you know you can’t lie to me,” He said, stepping a bit closer to him. He looked into Dark’s eyes while the entity avoided eye contact. Wilford huffed before his eyebrows raised and a smile formed on his lips. Dark noticed and furrowed his eyebrows

“What?” He asked, slightly worried. Wilford grabbed his hand and led him to their bedroom. Dark sighed.

“Wil, I don’t-” He was cut off by a T-shirt being thrown at his face. Dark, being extremely tired, didn’t process what had happened until he looked down and saw the shirt. He looked back up at Wilford, squinting a bit. Wilford had somehow already changed. He was wearing pink shorts and a white shirt with a rainbow on the front. Dark glanced down at the shirt and raised an eyebrow. Wilford cleared his throat.

“My eyes are up here, Darky-poo,” He teased. Dark would have blushed if he were less proud. Would have.

Dark rolled his eyes and picked up the shirt, ushering Wilford out. God knows how long into their relationship and Dark still refused to change in front of his boyfriend. Wilford shook his head and chuckled, heading into the kitchen.

--

He made two bowls of popcorn, knowing for a fact he would scarf down his in a matter of minutes. He walked into the living room. He heard creaking and looked back to see Dark walk in after him. The pale entity wore black boxers and the grey shirt that was thrown at him. Wilford smiled.

“What took so long, darling?” He asked sweetly. Dark scoffed at the third pet name that night.

“Resting my eyes,” he claimed. Wilford hummed, knowing it was a lie. He wouldn’t push it, though. Dark sighed. “What are we doing, Wil?”

“Watching Disney movies. Only the musicals, though,” Dark groaned.

“Wil-”

“Listen,” Wilford said, suddenly sounding serious. Dark closed his mouth. “I know you won’t listen to me when I tell you to rest. So, if you’re gonna stay awake, you might as well do something vaguely fun, right?” Dark smiled softly.

This person. This person loved him. This person cared about him more than anyone else did. And this person that cared about him was trying to help. Dark sighed, but not in an exasperated way. In an “I really can’t argue because a) I have nothing to argue and b) I kinda sorta really don’t wanna argue but I still wanna act like I do” kinda way. He shuffled his way over to the couch and plopped down next to Wilford, scooting as close to him as possible. Wilford grinned and settled himself.

“But do we have to do all of them?” Dark complained. Wilford stroked his mustache a bit.

“Well, no, but we gotta start somewhere.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you get to tell me which year to start from.”

“Last year.” That earned a small glare from Wilford. “Fine, fine… uh… 19...8...9?”

“The Little Mermaid it is!” Wilford said excitedly.

“Wait, you know all the years?”

“Of course I do! What do you think I am? Some sort of commoner?!” Dark slowly blinked at that wreck of a sentence and turned back to the TV screen. Wilford put an arm around Dark, who snuggled into the touch. Then, Wilford hit the play button on his remote.

--

Two movies later, Dark was out cold. They’d barely gotten through a third of “Newsies” before Wilford looked over and saw the entity sleeping. Wilford had been mindful enough to keep his singing voice to a minimum, and so Dark hadn’t woken up. Wilford wasn’t even sure how long he’d been asleep. When did he last look? Halfway through “Beauty and the Beast?” Aw, too bad. 30 more minutes and they would’ve started on “Aladdin”! Wilford shrugged and paused the film.

He gently shifted in his spot and lifted Dark into his arms. He slowly carried the “Sleeping Beauty”(shut up I’m funny) to their room. He gently laid Dark down on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Dark almost instantly cuddled into them. Wilford bit his lip as he stared down at his lover. Well, since they didn’t watch Sleeping Beauty…

Wilford gently leaned down and brushed a small curl out of Dark’s face. He gazed at his sleeping figure in admiration before leaning down further to connect their lips in a small kiss. Very small, more of a peck than a “kiss” kiss, but still. Dark slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times as Wilford pulled away.

“Aw, Dark,” Wilford whispered, “I woke you with true love’s kiss!”

“You woke me, period,” Dark grumbled but stretched out his arms, tempting Wilford to go to bed.

Wilford climbed in next to Dark, spooning him. He held his arms tight around his partner’s torso, burying his nose into the entity’s hair and inhaling deeply.

“What are you doing?” Dark almost chuckled. Wilford smiled.

“I like your smell…”

“Oh?” Dark twisted around to look at Wilford. “And what do I smell like?”

“Home…” Wilford answered with a lovestruck look on his face. He could’ve sworn he saw a blush before getting hit in the face with a pillow. He laughed as Dark turned back around.

“You are the cheesiest person in the galaxy,” Dark said. Wilford’s lips curled into a grin as he snuggled up behind Dark again.

“Maybe…” He answered. Both of them sighed contently. “I love you…”

“I love you too...” Dark mumbled, still very tired, “Goodnight, Wil.” Wilford smiled as he tightened his grip ever-so-slightly.

“Good night, Sleeping Beauty…”

[thollandthot]

three’s company part 2; tom holland x harrison osterfield

A/N: and here is the long awaited part two of three’s company !! i used some of the feedback i received on the first one to help me write this part, so thank you to all those who sent me messages regarding part one !! i also may or may not have set this up for a part three so if you want that, please let me know !! feedback is greatly appreciated :)

WORD COUNT: ~3.8K lol PAIRING: college au frat boy!tom holland x frat boy!harrison osterfield x female reader. WARNINGS: possibly the most nsfw thing imaginable. threesome/polyamory, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, swearing.

CLICK HERE TO READ PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO READ PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO READ PART THREE. CLICK HERE TO READ PART THREE AND A HALF. CLICK HERE TO READ PART FOUR.

three’s company

Saturday morning came too soon for your liking. Or rather, Saturday afternoon had. You awoke and attempted to stretch yourself out, only to hit Tom in the face with your outstretched arm. Oh. Honestly, you had forgotten about your sleeping arrangements until you had effectively punched him in the face. You also forgot you were wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. In fact, you forgot most of last night had even happened. You assumed it was just a wild and crazy dream.

It wasn’t just a wild and crazy dream.

After retracting your arm away from Tom, he chuckled in reply. “Good morning to you too, love.” He spoke, voice still gravely from being asleep. It might’ve been the hottest thing you had ever heard.

“Sorry. Morning. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face. I kinda forgot where I was.” Without the buffer of alcohol in your system, you were now much more nervous than you were last night. So, of course, you started rambling, ready to make a complete ass of yourself.

You were going to finish your awkward tangent when you heard the bedroom door swing open and then shut once more. It was Harrison, and he had just taken a shower, his damp blond hair and lack of any clothing other than a towel situated low on his hips giving him away. 

“Look who decided to wake up today.” Harrison chuckled, and you weren’t sure whether he was referring to you, or Tom, or both. You settled on both. “I got some bagels from the caf. If you wanna eat or something.” He wasn’t really speaking to anyone in particular as his back was facing the two of you while he rummaged through his closet to select some clothes. Without any ceremony or any shame, Haz dropped his towel to the floor, giving you a more than decent view of his ass as he changed into his clothes for the day.

Immediately, you thought that maybe you should turn around, or cover your eyes, or something. But you then recalled that you had seen them both naked last night. And the two of them could say the same about you. The though alone made the heat rise in your cheeks.

After his lower half was covered, Harrison turned back around to face you and Tom as he pulled a t-shirt over his head, giving you a quick wink. “Morning love. Or should I say afternoon?”

Afternoon. That caused you to sit up in bed beside Tom, searching through the sheets for your phone. “What time is it?”

Now it was Tom’s turn to sit up, plucking his phone from his bedside table. He hummed, “Half two.” Ugh, another British saying you had to get used to. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. Once you retrieved your own cell phone from the bed, you checked to make sure he wasn’t kidding. 2:30. You mentally slapped yourself, not only for staying up so late, but for sleeping in so late, as well.

You groaned, “I should get going. I really wanted to study today.” With your words, you reluctantly pulled the duvet off your body, ready to change back into your clothes from the previous night before heading back to your dorm. Were you really about to do a walk of shame at 2:30 in the afternoon? Probably.

“For the Philosophy midterm?” Harrison questioned with an arched brow. You nodded sullenly in response. Although last night was a terrific distraction, there was no way you could forget that midterms week began in just two days, which meant that the semester was halfway over. Which meant that your time with the two gorgeous British exchange students would soon come to an end. There was no way they were staying past this semester. 

You sighed, having your backs to the two roommates as you peeled the t-shirt off your body, hooking your bra back behind you and pulling on your shirt from the night prior. “Yeah, I probably won’t pass if I don’t study.” Sure, the class was easy, and you did all the reading, but you often found your mind wandering to the two attractive distractions that sat in front of you during lectures. Your notes were a jumbled mess, which made the professor’s study guide your saving grace.

“Well, hey, why don’t we come over later and study with you, yeah?” Tom suggested, voice way too chipper considering how recently he had just woken up. You watched a blush creep over his cheeks once he noticed his incredible enthusiasm. He cleared his throat before trying again, “I mean, it makes sense right? We should all probably get some studying in.”

You nodded once in agreement before turning to Harrison, cocking your head to the side as if asking for his approval, as well. He gave you a wide grin in reply. “Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you both later.” You gave the two a timid smile, pulling your shoes back onto your feet before opening the door, ready to leave and make your trek back to your dorm. Your hand lingered at the door knob for a moment, which gave Tom enough time to give you a smile. And it was one of those beautiful yet rare smiles he did, where it spread across his whole face. His nose scrunched and the corners of his eyes crinkled, and it made your heart melt. He shot you a wink.

“It’s a date.”

——

The hours of studying passed quickly, and soon the sun outside your dorm room window had set, your room now only being illuminated by your desk lamp and the street lights shining through your blinds. You expected the boys to come over any moment, and as much as you wanted their company, you were thoroughly stressed and exhausted out of your mind.

There was a knock at your door soon after, and you stood with a groan so you could greet the two. You had changed into a tank top and pajama shorts as soon as you had gotten back to your room, hoping you could at least be comfy as you studied relentlessly, but you knew they wouldn’t care about your appearance. A few days ago, you would’ve made sure you were presentable, but things had shifted since last night.

Swinging your door open, you were met by two dorky grins and two pairs of eyes that tried their very hardest not to give you a once over. You gave the two a meek smile before turning on your heel to go back into your room, silently suggesting they follow.

Harrison was the first to speak, “Sorry we came overdressed.” He teased as you plopped back into your desk chair, both Tom and Harrison choosing to sit side by side on your bed.

“Sorry, I’m just... stressed, I guess.” You sighed, running a hand down your face. Once your gaze fell on the two boys once again, their expressions went from teasing to serious, which was the opposite of what you had wanted.

“D’ya wanna talk about it?” Tom piped up after a few moments of silence.

You shook your head. Just like last night, all you needed was a distraction. “Not really. I know you guys came here to study but I just,” you exhaled, trying to relax your tensed shoulders. “I just don’t really feel like studying anymore.

And they understood that. In fact, every college student probably understood that, which was why they didn’t press you any further, and you were grateful for that. What you weren’t grateful for was yet another awkward silence. Perhaps sleeping with the two of them ruined not only your chance of having a relationship with either of them, but it might’ve ruined your friendship with the two, as well.

All your fears quickly subsided once Harrison spoke, cheeky grin on his lips. “Want a massage? Ya look seriously stressed out, love.” 

You pulled your lesser lip between your teeth, giving him a nod. Although you hadn’t checked your appearance since you had gotten back to your dorm, you had felt stressed out, and knew it was probably apparent on your features. “That’d be really great, actually.” You hadn’t realized until the option of a massage was on the table, but your muscles were incredibly stiff, due in part to being hunched over your desk all afternoon.

The blond gave you a smirk, standing from the bed before Tom cautiously followed suit. Harrison gave you that once over he was desperately trying to hold back from before giving you a smirk. “Then strip those clothes and lay down.” He shot you a wink, which made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Harrison must’ve realized his words might’ve made you uncomfortable, so he was quick to correct himself. “Remove as much as you’re comfortable with. No pressure.” He corrected, giving you a warm and seemingly apologetic smile.

Your gaze fell on Tom -- who was being uncharacteristically quiet -- for a moment. Perhaps he was the same as you, feeling much more awkward in the situation now that there was a lack of alcohol in his system. Once you locked eyes, the brunet gave you an encouraging smile, which caused your shoulders to relax before you pulled your t-shirt over your head and tugged your shorts off your legs, leaving them in a pool at your feet. You were left in your bra and panties, and your mind played the constant mantra that this was nothing worse than a swimsuit. That and the two had seen you naked before, and seemed to not have any complaints the first time around. 

Once you lay on your stomach on your bed, it took the two boys a few moments to do much of anything. Although you couldn’t see, it felt as though they were having a silent conversation. Perhaps even a silent argument. Your thoughts were interrupted by a pair of large hands pressing into your shoulders. At first, you tensed at the unfamiliar sensation, but as his fingers worked into your muscles, you relaxed into the mattress with a deep sigh.

“Wanna give me a hand here, mate?” Harrison spoke, and it sounded as though his tone was through gritted teeth. That perplexed you, unsure of why he would be so bothered in the situation, but you didn’t think too much about it as another pair of hands pressed gently against the small of your back. You sighed again, possibly overstimulated, but content, nevertheless.

The two worked in tandem on your muscles for a while, and when Tom rubbed into a particular spot along your spine, you couldn’t help the quiet moan that left your lips.

Tom halted his movements for a moment upon hearing the sound, and you could hear Harrison chuckle under his breath. “Feel good, darling?” Tom asked, cautiousness evident in his voice. 

You blushed furiously, although neither of them could see the action. But then, you decided to change strategies and have some fun. After all, you needed a distraction, and last night you got a pretty damn good one. “Feels so good.” You whimpered, a bit more seductively than necessary for the given context. It was then that you shifted your legs a bit further apart, hoping that Tom would get the message.

Tom audibly swallowed, his palms stilling on your back for a moment before he let out a deep sigh. His hands cautiously went lower, fingertips ghosting over your flesh just in case he was reading the signals wrong and you didn’t want him to touch you that way.

But you did. Oh boy, you did.

After testing the waters for a few moments, Tom’s hands began massaging the supple flesh of your ass through your panties, his movements still coinciding with Harrison’s on your neck and shoulders. You spread your legs a bit farther, wiggling your ass in the process in hopes of driving home the sentiment: you wanted Tom to see that you were incredibly wet. 

A muttered swear left Tom’s lips as his fingers came to rest at the crevice where your ass met your thighs, a single finger ghosting over your panties. There was a visible wet spot on the fabric, and you heard another swear leave Tom’s mouth before he cleared his throat to speak. 

“Ya might wanna have a look at this, mate.” Tom breathed, lust evident in his voice. It was then that Harrison’s hands stilled before leaving your skin. There were a few moment of silence that you could only assume was being used for the two roommates to admire how wet you were. 

Harrison tutted softly, “Wet already, love? Haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” The words made you moan in anticipation, wiggling your ass again out of impatience. You were restless.

One of them rolled your underwear down your legs slowly, and you silently gave your permission for him to do so when you lifted your hips to make the process easier. The other came up to easily unhook your bra, carefully pushing the straps down your arms. 

“Why don’t you sit up, hm? Show us how gorgeous you look.” Harrison murmured into the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. It made you realize Tom was the one to take off your panties, and Harrison rid you of your bra.

Nevertheless, you complied, rolling over before sitting up with your arms propped behind you, chest pushed out. The position caused both boys to moan simultaneously, and you could only wish to hear it on repeat for the rest of your life.

 In an instant, Tom draped your legs over his shoulders, laying down on his stomach so he was eye level with your dripping center. Harrison sat at the edge of the bed beside you, gently turning your head with your chin between his index finger and thumb, wasting no time in tasting you. It was then that Tom licked a single stripe up your folds, causing you to moan into Harrison’s mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined.” Tom whispered to himself, but it was still loud enough for you and Harrison to hear it. Admittedly, the sentiment turned you on even more, knowing that Tom had imagined eating you out before (although, after last night, that should’ve been expected).

Harrison chuckled against your lips before pulling away to speak, smirk evident on his lips. “Like heaven, right?” He arched his brows in Tom’s direction, but the brunet never stopped giving your aching core attention, only humming an ‘mhmm’ against your clit in reply.

You then pulled Harrison back into you, tilting your head to get a closer kiss. Your hand rested on his growing erection while he kissed you, squeezing it lightly through the fabric of his jeans. The action caused the blond boy next to you to groan, pulling away from your lips so he could tap his roommate on the shoulder. 

It was then that Tom halted his movements, pulling his face out from between your legs, which made you whine at the loss of contact. You both directed your attention to Haz when he spoke. “Why don’t you get on all fours for us, huh, love?” He had a wicked grin on his face that made you nod eagerly as you sat up and got into the position he requested. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows, leaning on your forearms for support as you anxiously awaited for the two boys to undress themselves. The sounds of belts being unbuckled and clothes being tossed to the floor made you writhe on the shitty university mattress. It was then that you felt Harrison stroke your cheek, and you turned your head to look at him. He gave you a grin, ocean blue hues darkened with lust.

“Can I feel that pretty little mouth around my cock, love?” His sickly sweet tone starkly contrasted with the dirty words, and you had to refrain from moaning. You bit your lip as you nodded before slacking your jaw, impatiently waiting for Harrison to ease his cock into your mouth.

As for your backside, Tom was taking his sweet time admiring every dip and curve of your body. Your ass was on perfect display for him, your legs spread enough to give him a gorgeous view of your wet pussy. He groaned at the sight, using his right hand to jerk himself a few times as his left stroked up and down the curve of your spine. “Fucking hell, everything about you is gorgeous.” Tom mumbled, only loud enough for him to hear. His left hand trailed down your back slowly before stroking his fingers up your wet folds, effectively making you moan around Harrison’s cock that was now completely in your mouth. The noise made Tom grin as he leaned forward to place a kiss against the small of your back before lining himself up at your entrance. “You ready for me, darling?”

You tried your best to nod, and Tom took the hint as he slid his length inside of you. The sensation made Tom groan, and made your eyes flutter shut as you whimpered before gagging around Harrison’s cock. 

When Tom fucked you, it was different than it was when Harrison had the night prior. Not that you would say anything about it, -- hell, you couldn’t with a dick in your mouth -- but you found yourself comparing their strokes. Haz bottomed out quickly, pulling you back onto him hard and fast, whereas Tom took his time with you. He eased inside until it felt as though the tip of his cock was up against your cervix and you could feel it in your stomach. His strokes were slow, deep, and calculated. Once he found that spot that made you scream, he made sure to hit it with every thrust. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought this was love-making.

After a few moments of Tom relentlessly pounding your g-spot, your legs started to give out and he kept his hands on your hips to keep you from falling over. You pulled your mouth off of Harrison, a sheen of your saliva coating his cock, so you could scream at just how good this all felt. The blond took that as an opportunity to tweak your sensitive and hardened nipples, which made your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cried out in pleasure once more. You were definitely going to get a noise complaint, but you didn’t care.

“Gonna cum for us, love?” Harrison cooed, using his left hand to stroke your cheek and his right to pump his length. All you could do was nod in reply. He smirked, “God, you look so pretty all fucked out. Wanna cum all over that gorgeous face.” His attention turned back to his roommate for a moment, and just like last night, he spoke as if you weren’t even in the room. “Wish you could see her, mate. Looks so fucking hot.”

Tom didn’t even look up at his friend, too mesmerized by the way his cock disappeared inside of you with every slow thrust. “Taking me so good.” He growled. His tone made your walls clench around him, and earned you a low groan from Tom. “God, do that again and I’m gonna lose it.”

Instinctively, you clenched around his cock again, which made Tom thrust particularly deep inside you and forced out a high pitched whine from your lips. His thrusts were becoming more sloppy and less precise, and once one of his hands reached down to play with your clit, it was over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and Harrison grunted at the sight.

“Where do you want us to cum, love?” His question made you whimper, your body about to give out from overstimulation.

“Inside me..” You whined, clenching around Tom’s cock once more as your orgasm started to course through you. You barely had enough time to answer Harrison as you squealed out in pleasure. “In my mouth, Harrison, please, fuck!”

Your permission was all the blond needed as his strokes picked up before resting his hard length on your tongue, the white hot substance shooting down your throat with ease. Your orgasm milked out Tom’s, and you could feel his cum coating your walls as they pulsated around his aching cock. 

After a few moments, you collapsed onto your bed with a sigh, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. The two British boys stood there, admiring your spent expression. Tom’s cum was dribbling out of you and a few stray strands of Harrison’s were splattered across your face. Their eyes were still full of lust as they admired you, and they silently agreed that you were the sexiest woman alive.

Once your breathing came back down to normal, your eyes fluttered open, gaze darting between the two friends. You cleared your throat awkwardly before easing your way up into a sitting position, the feeling in your limbs still not completely there. “I’m gonna, uh, use the bathroom real quick.” You spoke quietly, hopping off of the bed. Neither of them said anything in response. “You know.. pee after sex and everything..” The British exchange students nodded, mumbling out different versions of ‘right’ and ‘sure’ and ‘of course’. Once you had exited your bedroom to go into the adjoining bathroom, the two took it upon themselves to start changing back into their clothes.

There was an awkward silence between the two for a few moments, but eventually, Harrison was the first to speak, thumping his best friend over the head. “You div!” He whisper-yelled to his roommate.

Tom spun around, bewildered at his friend’s words. “The hell? What’d I do?” He asked, mimicking the blond’s tone.

Harrison’s eyes narrowed, “You fucking love her.”

Tom’s eyes widened before he replied, “Fuck off, mate. No I don’t.” He turned so his back was facing the other male, pulling his boxers and jeans back up his legs. Harrison sauntered over to face him once more.

“I’m not an idiot, mate. I saw the way you looked at her. And the way you fucked her.” Harrison scoffed as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He dared Tom to deny the accusation again, but he never did. The blond rolled his eyes. “We’re going back to London soon, you twat!” 

Tom shrugged as he pulled his own shirt back on. He tried to make it out like it wasn’t a big deal, but in actuality, it was a pretty huge deal. Harrison’s eyes narrowed into slits, teeth gritted as he spoke to his friend in warning.

“Don’t. Fucking. Blow this.”

------

@tom-hollands-eyelash / @ophcelia / @tiny-parker / @jackiehollanderr / @starlightfound / @marvellousparkerpeter / @agirlwithpointlessideas / @thirsttrapholland / @marvelsinbin

[elliemarchetti]

How do you think the Red Queen characters would be in a zombie apocalypse? With their powers and skills I think it would be interesting.

Another story time! (Sorry, I’m just in writing mood, hope you don’t mind and still enjoy)

Zombie Apocalypse AU

Words: 1001

They were refueling ammunition in an armory when they heard a noise. All three turned in unison and saw one of them behind a wire mesh that had probably once served to prevent the Reds from entering the Silver's possession. Although two years had passed since everything had started, get used to it was impossible, not when what had once been a person was now reduced to a simple envelope of flesh driven by an insatiable sense of hunger. Tristan immediately aimed the rifle but Diana stopped him, placing a hand on the long and shiny barrel.

“Leave it be,” she said. “It can’t get to us here and you may need that bullet later.”

Without further delay, and without too much desire to have to dwell further on the horrible image of the man who was slowly decomposing, they got back on the vehicle and returned to Naercey, the base of the Scarlet Guard, the Red resistance of Norta, the Lakelands and Piedmont against that catastrophe that in the beginning had only affected the Reds but now was starting to take even the less wealthy Silvers, as demonstrated by the small abandoned shop. Throughout the journey, which wasn’t too long, Diana tried not to think too much about her past, about what she had lost against her will and had to sacrifice to get here alive,  in a place she still couldn't call home but that certainly felt like security.

"What did you find this time?" asked the Colonel as they were unloading. Her father, although he sometimes seemed to forget he was, was the head of that Scarlet Guard displacement and nothing came in or went out without his approval, so she showed him the ammunition and the new gun.

“Rasha was more fortunate,” she explained. “In the house there were some candy bars that wasn’t already expired, toilet paper, laundry soap and a lot of detergent.”

Although the Colonel was never really happy, a flicker seemed to illuminate his good eye but it was already gone by the time he told her they had run out of meat supplies. As much as they did it at the beginning, living on canned food and leftovers found in uninhabited houses wasn’t the best of ideas now that they were so many.

"I will ask Tristan to come hunting with me." she replied, and left without adding anything else; her father would’ve hated the pity he would inevitably see in her eyes. Once the Colonel had been a great hunter but an accident had made him nearly blind in one eye, not exactly the best conditions if you had to be smarter than animals and be careful not to be killed yourself. Fortunately he had trained her properly before it happened and even if it wasn’t one of their favourite activities when they were available she and Tristan always went since with his rifle he had an infallible aim and Diana had already seen too many companions dire for stupid reasons to not wanting to be on the front line herself: when they settled in Naercey they were few and had to fight to the extreme to completely free the few ruins from the zombies but they had succeeded, and the town was as reborn, a corner of paradise in that infinite hell. Over time, partly because of hearsay, partly because Diana and her father were engaged in practically non-stop rescue missions, new buildings were added to the ruins, and the town had grown, with all the benefits and flaws that the thing could have, including an incredible shortage of wild animals to hunt. They walked for a couple of miles before running into even a hare, which, however fast, couldn’t surpass the click of Tristan's finger on the trigger. They were approaching their prey when they heard a curse, a sound that broke the almost religious silence of the place and made them jump: so deep inside there should’ve been no one, least of all someone still able to speak. From the thick, as if he had appeared out of nowhere, a tall and slender boy came out. A hint of muscle was visible in his amber-skinned arms and in the shoulders, covered by a simple gray-green t-shirt too clean to be owned by someone who lives in the woods.

"I guess you will now consider it your prey." he said in a low voice and a hint of a smile opened on his full lips. "We can divide, although for three… But you have more than just your mouths to feed, don't you?”

"Who are you?" Diana asked defensively. Obviously he wasn’t infected but this didn’t explain why he was so close to the base, since the wood stretched for at least a dozen more miles.

"I'm Shade Barrow…" he answered, and immediately afterwards disappeared, like a good magician under his cloak, to reappear at a couple of feet from them. Diana winced but Tristan didn't move an inch, the rifle pointed at the boy's head, who seemed satisfied to have surprised her and put him further on the defensive.

“…and I think I could be a good member of the Scarlet Guard.”

 At first the Colonel didn’t seem very happy with his arrival but he partially reevaluated it when he saved his life from a zombie who had tried to take them by surprise while cutting some firewood. Autumn was approaching and it was nearly a month since Shade had seen his family, which Diana must have noticed as she asked about them during a night watch shift.

"They’re still home," he replied, with a lightness in his voice that he certainly didn’t have in his heart. Although the Stilts were a relatively safe place, given that they were so close to the royal family's summer palace, it wasn’t certain that once they were gone it would still be so.

"You should bring them here," she suggested. "Families should never be divided."

"First let's see tomorrow's mission’s outcome."

[cosmichoneyedblossoms]

Deep Violet

Pairing: PRINCE Shownu X Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: I got an ask for a shy but dom Shownu, and it somehow turned into a Prince au 😂

For as long as you could remember your family worked for the Son royal family, your father worked as a chef and your mother worked as a maid so, it was inevitable that you would take a job at the castle when you became of age. Even as a child, you came to the castle with them while they worked and you met the royal family’s son, Prince Shownu. He reminded you a yam, cute chubby cheeks that took up his whole face, his little pouty lips that made him look like he was questioning everything when it came to meeting you, and that’s how you came up with his nickname, “Sweet Potato.”

He hated you and that nickname for the longest of time, but the more time that the two of you spent together, the more you grew inseparable as you aged, your playdates in the garden slowly turned into studying in the library, the tea parties you shared turned into quiet meals in the main hall. You witnessed Shownu grow with grace and refinement within the castle walls and when it came time for him to find suitors, it occurred to you that you were nothing more than just a maid to him. You tried to turn your notice into the King, but he wouldn’t allow it, because his son wouldn’t allow it.

“What do you mean Shownu won’t allow it?” You tried to be mindful of your attitude and tone, but it started to seep out of you.

“We told him over dinner last night that you wanted put in your notice and he denied it. Thoroughly turned it down.”

“Without any reason?” The King scoffed at your words.

“He’s a prince, he doesn’t have to have a reason for wanting to keep a maid. You’re attuned to him and he probably would hate to teach someone how he is. Now, this conversation is over, if you have anymore questions, go ask him yourself.” You nodded, knowing that if you protested more you may get yourself in trouble. You left his chamber, your heels hitting the floor with a fury as you stormed to Shownu’s office. The dark mahogany door came into your vision and before you knew it, your knuckles were rapping against the door.

“Come in.” His muffled voice gave you the invitation and you pushed open the door and stepped into his office, closing the door behind you. Your boiled sweet potato didn’t look like the boy you met long ago, his thick brown hair rested against his forehead, his chubby cheeks had thinned out to show off his sharp features—his looks were just one part of what made you fall for him, but you knew him before he grew into his features. Shownu looked up at you, a smile tugging at this lips, “Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure—”

“You denied my notice?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes. I want out, I’m not going to stand around and watch you go on dates with multiple noblewomen to find you a wife to take the throne with you.” His eyes grew wide hearing your voice crack through your words.

“How did you…?”

“I saw the invitations to tonight’s party. The princes from other countries are coming to celebrate your coming of age. The RSVP roster is almost full of princesses and noblewomen so, you’ll have a lot to choose from.” Shownu’s teeth took the plumpness of his bottom lip between them, gnawing on it. He didn’t think that it would be this hard to separate his feelings for you, a maid, to find his future wife, but it was. You were not only his maid, but his best friend, and he didn’t ever think it would’ve come down to letting you leave to avoid hurting you or keeping you for his selfish reason.

“Y/N…” He stood from his desk, a knock coming from the other side of the door, a deep sigh left him, “Come in.” The door opened and a butler came into the office.

“Prince Shownu, it’s about time for you to get ready for tonight’s party.”

“Let me finish up with her—”

“It’s okay. We’re done talking.”

“Wait, Y/N.” You had already turned on your heels and walked past the butler out into the hall, your feet rushing down the marble tile to create distance from Shownu. Frustrated tears rolled off your lashes and down your cheeks, your rubbed them as you turned the corner, you body coming in contact with another. You stopped rubbing your eyes and looked up to see dripping good looks melting off of the man in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Prince Kihyun.” You bowed deeply, a shy chortle coming from him.

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Kihyun’s sweet champagne eyes stared into yours and you slowly blinked, breaking the eye contact you shared.

“How long you got, because it’s a long story.” Kihyun escorted you out to the garden while you explained what had you so upset. He didn’t speak while you spoke from point A all the way to Z, going through your feelings for him, how you tried to quit, and what had just happened. Kihyun understood your position, anyone growing up together would get some sort of feelings for someone, but your predicament was a special one.

“Has it occurred to you that Shownu might feel the same way?” You scoffed a bit as you sat down on the stone bench in front of the flower garden, “I’m being serious here.”

“I know you are, but why me? I’m just a maid—”

“You were his best friend before his maid, Y/N.” Kihyun crossed his arms and started to pace in front of you, “Maybe he’s telling you to stay without saying it, you know him, he doesn’t always come out with what he wants to say, he’s too shy for that.” Kihyun was right, Shownu did have a way of beating around the bush to get what he wanted, but this wasn’t something that he could beat around the bush with. The sudden gasp of Kihyun’s voice startled you and you growled.

“What the hell, Ki?!”

“You’re not working the party tonight, right?”

“No… they hired help other than our staff.” A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips as he turned his gaze onto you.

“I have an idea.”

“Is this really gonna work?” You asked feeling long nimble fingers pull up the zipper on the back of the dress. Your eyes were covered with a blindfold to keep your appearance a surprise to yourself, you didn’t know what your hair looked like or even the dress they were sticking you in, but you trusted them. You had to, they were your last hope.

“If Shownu doesn’t take you, I will.” The sound of Minhyuk’s voice flowed from behind the room divider.

“Minhyuk is right, you look absolutely stunning.” Prince Jooheon’s hands smoothed over your curves, making sure you looked flawless, “Here, let me guide you to the mirror.” Jooheon took your hand into his and led you out from behind the divider, the sound of five gasps filling the air around you.

“I’m hoping those are good noises…” You breathed, your nerves starting to claw at your confidence.

“Hold on! Have her put these on.” Wonho’s voice got closer to you and you felt the hem of your dress being pulled up, “Lift one foot for me, Y/N.” You did as Wonho asked and lifted a foot, his hands sliding a shoe onto it. You let him put the other one on and heard him hum in approval, “Now, you’re ready.”

“Can I take this blindfold off?” As you asked, Jooheon removed the blindfold and it took your eyes a minute to adjust to the lighting in the room, but when it did, your eyes found you in the mirror, your heart skipping a beat at your appearance. Your makeup was lightly done with peach and gold tones for your eyeshadow with a light colored lip, and your hair was styled into a waterfall braid, the ends of your hair curled and tousled to perfection. Your eyes finally fell to the ballgown hugging your body—the sweetheart neckline and bodice were fashioned with gorgeous light blue lace, melting down into floor length peach colored tulle, “Wow…” You walked closer to the mirror, taking in your dolled up figure.

“You’re going to make him swoon.” Hyungwon appeared beside you, pulling your hair over your shoulder, “If not, one of us six calls dibs on you.” His thick lips formed a toothy smile, making you laugh.

“Thank you guys.”

“Don’t thank us just yet…” Changkyun stood from the couch he was sitting on and walked towards you, “When you meet Shownu, you can thank us.” He offered his arm out to you and you slipped your hand around it, “Shall we get this party started?” He asked and you nodded, the rest of the boys chuckling and laughing around you.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my honor to introduce the Princes that have graced our country with their arrival for Prince Shownu’s coming of age ceremony. First is the Prince of Ticia, Shin Hoseok.” At the sound of his name, Wonho walked out with his escort.

“Hold on… you mean to tell me Shownu is going to see me walking in with you?” You looked up at Changkyun, his nod making your heart race.

“The Prince of Haoatrem, Lee Minhyuk.” Minhyuk walked out into the ballroom, the anxiety in your stomach created a ruckus in your chest, “The Prince of Legilind, Yoo Kihyun.”

“I don’t know if I can do this…” You whispered.

“The Prince of Etalish, Chae Hyungwon.”

“You’re going to have to, Y/N.” Changkyun glanced down at you.

“The Prince of Aseadia, Lee Jooheon.” Jooheon walked into the ballroom and your heart fell into your stomach, “The Prince of Trarelath, Im Changkyun.”

“Show time.” He tugged you along, the bright light of the ballroom illuminating the room around you. Your eyes searched the busy ballroom for them to easily find Shownu standing at the stop of the stairs, overlooking the party. He looked so handsome standing there in his formal wear, it was a rare for him to wear it unless he was attending council meetings or parties like these, but your heart fluttered at the sight. Changkyun walked you over to the staircase where the boy’s escorts stood and slipped his arm from your grasp to hold your hand, “Thank you m’lady.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” Changkyun lifted your hand up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to your skin before walking up the stairs to take his place by the other princes. The voice that introduced the boys started talking once more, but all the focus in the room was primarily on you—most of the people in the room as attended these parties for years and had never seen you before. The longer stares and gazes rested upon you, the more your anxiety racked your nerves. The announcer finished his speech and the princes came down the stairs, almost all the young noble ladies in the room rushed to meet them, pushing you out of the way. You turned away from them and walked over to the drink table, pulling a glass of champagne from it and downing it.

Why did you let them do this to you? Doll you up and parade you in here like you’re some sort of princess? You’re not, your just a common maid… might as well enjoy the food and alcohol here seeing as Shownu will be kept—

The feeling of a hand resting on your shoulder ceased your incessant thoughts and you turned around to be met with warm topaz irises, “Y/N?”

“Shownu…”

“I thought it was you. I just had to make sure… What’re you doing here…?” He eyed your dolled up appearance, a fire attacking his cheeks. Seeing you all dressed up flustered him, you looked like you belonged here in his world, like you weren’t a maid, but an actual noblewoman or princess.

“It was Prince Kihyun’s idea.” Shownu glanced back at the row of princes to see them watching us, Minhyuk noticed his stare and waved which made you giggle a bit.

“Well…” He turned his gaze back onto you, trying to overcome his nervousness, “Could I bother you for a dance… Princess Y/N?” He offered his hand out to you and you slipped your hand into his.

“Anything for you, Prince Shownu.” Your words brought a bright smile to his lips and he led you to the center of the ballroom floor where other couples had already started dancing. Shownu wrapped an arm around you, his hand coming to rest on your waist, you rested your hand on his shoulder and took his other hand into yours, his body already pulling you along into the dance. You couldn’t help but smile when a memory appeared in your psyche of you and Shownu as children and he was teaching you how to dance “the fancy” way. His face was all scrunched up as he tried to keep in time with the music and remember all the steps, but this time, his face was relaxed and the steps were like second nature to him, “Your form is impeccable.” You teased and he looked down at you, a slight blush still staining his cheeks.

“It’s isn’t your form that’s important when you’re dancing, it’s your feelings.” His touch was gentle against your body, he was mindful of your steps, making sure to help you keep time with him. There was a time before this where Shownu thought that dancing was a science, you have to take steps at the right time and execute them perfectly, he thought of it as a game when he was younger, but now he’s dancing with more feeling and fluidity— you didn’t know if this was the same boy you fell in love with. Shownu noticed the corners of your mouth turn upwards as your eyes admired him, “What’re you smiling for?”

“Well…” You giggled a bit, tightening your grip on his hand, “You’ve grown so much, but somehow you’re still my Sweet Potato.”

“You know I hate that name, right?” He may have hated it, but he loved that you finally called him that after so long. After hearing you call him “Prince Shownu” for years, hearing his nickname eased his nerves, bringing a smile to his lips.

“I know, but that’s who you are to me. My handsome Sweet Potato.” Your full attention was on his lips, he tried to hide his excitement behind a crooked, but charming smile, “You’re so handsome, any woman you choose to marry will be a lucky one.” The music faded to a stop and so did your bodies, Shownu slowly pulled away, his eyes searching yours to find tears starting to fill them.

“Stay in the castle tonight. I want to talk to you, just you, in private.”

“Shown—”

“Excuse me…” A woman’s voice interrupted you and you turned around to see a woman with fine blond hair and piercing blue eyes. She was gorgeous, definitely someone that you could see him with, “Care to dance with me next, Prince Shownu?” She asked and a forced smile came to his lips.

“Of course, it would be my pleasure, m’lady.” You moved out of the way for him to take her hand, he stared at you once more, his eyes begging you to stay and you knew you couldn’t deny him.

You sat in the chair that sat on the balcony outside your room, Shownu had the bedroom made up for you after you took on the role of his personal maid, just in case he accidentally kept you later than usual and didn’t want you going home by yourself. He’s always been kind and gentle, he gave you a spot in his life that you ever thought that he would give you, but he did, and now it’s coming to an end. After tonight, you knew you couldn’t stay with him any longer, your feelings for him wouldn’t have it.

“Y/N.” A deep voice, thicker than honey, called out to you and you looked towards the balcony door to see Shownu standing in his sleepwear.

“Has everyone gone home for the night?” You asked, standing from the chair.

“Kihyun and Wonho have decided to stay here at the castle since they live in the furthest kingdoms.” He took short strides to you as if not to spook you, like if he came at you too quickly, you would run.

“That was nice of you to let them stay. Do they need anything?” You started to walk towards the door, “I should go check—” Shownu gently grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“They’re okay, they’ve got their butlers looking after them.”

“Oh… that’s right. I forgot about them.” You tried to laugh off your reason to escape, worried that your tears may make an appearance again. You turned to face him, his heart pounding in his chest as your eyes connected.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft like the midnight breeze, his dark irises almost matched the obsidian sky, but held a light lighter than air.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to say something to you at the party, but didn’t have the time to and I didn’t know how to tell you.” His fingers slipped in between yours, lacing your hands together, “I love you and not in the way I usually say it. Not because you help me with work or anything like that, but I’m madly in love with you. From day one when your parents brought you here, I thought you were just the cutest thing. I even remember what you were wearing and how your hair was put up, you were just adorable.” His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he looked away from your gaze, he had never expressed his feelings so openly before and the fact that you’re staring at him so intensely had him feeling embarrassed, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to marry anyone, but you and even if you turn me down, I’ll take the throne without a princess or queen by my side, because no one can fill your place.”

“Shownu… are you asking me to marry you?” You peered up into his face, his cheeks the color of ripe cherries.

“I eventually will… but I want to be with you. I know it’s not your scene—”

“You’re right about that. There’s eyes everywhere and they’ll be glued to us and we’ll be under a microscope all the time—” A warmth spread through your forehead as he gently pressed his forehead against yours.

“Then keep your eyes on me. Only look at me until you can’t think of anything else.” Your heart beat loudly at his proximity; his lips were hovering over yours and every cell in your body wanted him, ached to feel his lips on yours, yearned to know what it would feel like when his skin meshed with yours. You’ve wanted him for so long and now you had your chance, he left himself wide open for you to take the leap. You pressed your lips to his, needing to feel him, the feeling of his lips on yours ignited a heat inside you that only grew hotter the longer your lips were connected. Shownu pulled away for a just second to catch his breath, you took the air from his lungs and he loved it, “Stay with me… please…”

“Can I really stay with you…?” You asked, your heart awaiting to hear a negative answer, but when you felt the slight nod of his head, you backed away and looked up at him, “Really?!”

“I’ve already spoke to His Majesty and he noted that it’ll be hard, but you’re already part of our family.” A toothy smile came to your lips while you jumped into his arms, squealing in pure happiness. Shownu could’ve sworn he’s never seen your lips turn into a smile so quickly before, but the fact that he made you smile so widely warmed his heart. His hands cradled your body and your hands gently caressed his cheeks, your thumbs lightly running over his skin, you leaned in letting your lips meet once more, this time with no intention of separating from him. Shy zealous kisses were passed between your lips, them growing more shameless and passionate as an unbearable heat rose up in both of you. Shownu’s hands gripped the flesh of your thighs while he slightly ground his hips into yours, your mind taking notice of how stiff he had gotten in just the few moments your lips had been melded to each other.

“Shownu…” You hummed and he pulled away slightly, his lips aching to be back on yours.

“I’ll stop if you want me to stop, but I’m not sure I can…” He confessed, holding onto you body tighter, eager to feel you on him.

“Then don’t.” His eyes grew wide at your words, something changed in them from the moment you tempted him, they grew darker and heavier. He made his way back into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, and then laying you down into the bed. His hands lifted the hem of your shirt, exposing your skin, while his lips began his attack on you. They sprinkled light burning kisses to your torso, his hands lifting your shirt as he went to expose more of your beautiful skin to him. The more he inched up your body, the more it ached for him to tease you and as if he read your mind, his long fingers gently ran over your hardening buds, arousing a quiet gasp from your lips.

This was the first time he heard your voice this sultry and light, your body being openly ready for him made his hunger flourish—he wanted to hear more of you and he was determined to make it happen. You blinked and Shownu had pulled your shorts and panties from your body, he slipped his arms under your legs, creating a strong hold on your lower half; his warm breath against your most sensitive parts sent tingles through your limbs, your body more than ready to feel him against you. Shownu pressed soft kisses to the flesh of your heat before letting his warm wet muscle invade your essence to explore your sticky folds, making sure to not miss any crevice of your core; your quiet moans gradually getting louder let him know he was driving crazy with his tongue. The coil in your stomach threatened to let loose every time he ran his roughness over your aching nub, your breathless gasps giving away how close you were to your high. Shownu wrapped his lips around your nub, lightly sucking on it, your back coming to arch off the bed as he edged you closer to bliss; the swirling of his tongue finally pushed you over the edge, the tightly wound coil in your stomach sprung free, sending electricity through your being. He guided you through your high, bringing you back down to him, he pulled away from your heat and trailed kisses up to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” You kissed him once more before pulling his shirt off, revealing his toned body. Your eyes wandered down his torso, following his happy trail that led down to the waistband of his pants. You lightly palmed his through his pants, his head coming to rest on your shoulder, “Y/N…”

“I want you, Shownu.” There was no wavering in your voice as you tugged at the fabric of his pants.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want to be one with you.” With that, he pulled off his pants and anchored himself between your legs, his nerves started to get the best of him as he ran his member down your wet folds. He slowly pushed his length past your entrance, every inch of him filling you so well. Shownu let out a shaky breath as he melted into you, lost himself in the warmth of your core; you pulled him down to press your lips to his, wanting to feel more of him. He rolled his hips into you, the sound of your skin meshing and mingling breaths filled the air around you. He snapped his hips into you, your hands grabbing at his back, your nails digging into his skin marking up his back. Your wanton cries of bliss from him only aroused him more, they brought him closer to his release; he left love bites down your neck, the fire in your stomach began to seep out into your limbs, flames licking at your fingers and toes.

“Y/N… I can’t…” He rasped, his pace getting rough and erratic.

“Cum with me…” You mewled, his hands coming to grip your waist as he rammed length into you, reaching his release while you clamped down around him, you reaching your own high. You admired him while his eyes were closed, thick dark lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks while he let out breathless groans of pleasure, he was so handsome and now he was yours. Shownu laid down beside you, pulling you close and pressing sweet tender kisses to your crown.

“Princess Y/N… that has a nice ring to it.” He gently ran his hand over your back, chuckling a bit.

“You think?” You looked up at him and he nodded.

“I’ve been wanting to call you Princess for forever and now, I finally get to.” His words brought a blazing blush to your cheeks, he knew just what to say to make you melt. You loved him and you were ready for the adventure ahead and anything that came your way—becoming his Princess was a dream come true.

[thethespacecoyote]

Did someone order more sad modern AU BenArmie? No? Too bad. 

Done for more Bad Things Happen Bingo! For “Hidden Scar” because that’s a whole load of angst fodder. Warning because this references some past and current abuse Armitage’s suffered thanks to his dad. 

Ben walks out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, just in time to hear his phone vibrate against his desk. Puzzled, he steps over the backpack strewn across the floor and snatches it up, checking the illuminated screen to find a text from Armie.

>>> 10:47pm

are you awake?

It’s not too weird to hear from him this late at night, especially on a weekend. He and Armie text all the time, chatting about school or movies or nonsense, really. But it’s better than nothing, and Ben has few other friends he can talk with outside of classes and extracurriculars.

>>>10:48pm

sure am whats up

Ben cradles his phone in his palm as he sits on the bed, towel still draped over his thighs. The rain that’s been lashing his neighborhood all evening seems to have lessened to a trickle in the past hour, though the night outside still looks pretty cold and miserable.

His phone buzzes once more.

>>>10:48pm

would it be alright if i came over?

It’s not necessarily unusual for Armie to come over, even so late in the evening. Considering it’s the weekend, it’s even less strange, though usually they plan it out beforehand. Ben has nothing better to do, however, and having Armie over would certainly brighten a fairly dully and rainy night.

>>> 10:49pm

yeah sure lemme know when ur here

Ben tosses the phone back on the bed and rises, figuring he has a moment to get ready. He rummages through his chest of drawers for a pair of sweatpants, tying them low about his hips. His phone lights up with another notification, and he picks it back up.

>>>10:52pm

im outside. can i come up?

Outside? Already? Their houses were at least twenty minutes apart, and Armie didn’t even own a car. He had a bike but that wouldn’t shave off that much time. So how was he here?

Ben glances to his window, where droplets of water still cling and glimmer in the moonlight. At least it’d stopped raining. He hopes Armie hasn’t been waiting that long.

>>>10:53pm

one sec

Ben looks around his room, suddenly conscious of the mess. If he leaves things like this he won’t hear the end of it, so he scurries about, trying to do some last minute clean-up. He scrapes loose shirts and jeans and socks off the floor and stuffs them into the closet, before tossing couple old receipts and empty snack wrappers that’ve accumulated onto his desk into the garbage. He rolls his free weights towards the walls, getting them out of the way so Armie won’t trip on them.

Finally he pulls on a tank and hoodie, tousling his still wet hair as he heads out of his room and downstairs. He pads quietly through the house, knowing which floorboards to avoid, which doors to treat especially gently lest they creak. Both his parents should be sound asleep but it’s best not to take chances. He doesn’t want them sending Armie home if he’s already made the trip here.

He prowls to the front door and unlocks it as quietly as he can, peeking out onto the porch. The dim orange light just barely illuminates where Armie paces dully on the bottom steps with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He stops in his tracks and looks up when the door opens, hopping up onto the porch like a lost animal waiting for food.  

Ben thinks it’s weird he isn’t wearing a jacket, or really anything to protect him from the cold apart from a dark grey turtleneck. He can see Armie shivering, hair lightly dusted with dew, and wishes he’d brought one of his hoodies down to wrap around him. Good thing it’s warm inside the house.

“Hey.” Ben waves awkwardly, not sure what else to do with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“S’okay,” Armie mumbles, arms squeezing tighter around himself. Ben stands aside to let him in, quickly closing the door behind them. His eyes fall to Armie’s back and thinks it might be good to put his hand there so he can guide his friend through the dark inside the house, but he stops himself and instead rubs the back of his neck.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you,” Armie admits, hunching his shoulders inwards as he adapts to the sudden warmth. “That’s fine, right?”

“Oh yeah. Just gonna have to explain to mom and dad in the morning.” Ben leads the way back to the staircase, stopping only briefly to nod towards the kitchen.

“You hungry or anything? We probably can’t turn on the stove or microwave without waking the parents but there’s probably some snacks or something. If you want.”

Armie shakes his head.

“No…can we just go up to your room?”

“Sure.” Ben’s still full from dinner anyway, he just wants to make sure Armie actually eats. He knows he has a tendency to skip meals for studying, or just because he forgets.

He hopes Armie won’t notice how messy his room is, as despite the earlier manic cleanup Ben knows it’s really not up to his friend’s standards. Armie’s space back at his house looks crisp and tidy, almost barely lived-in—a real contrast to Ben’s chaotic den, walled in by music posters and lit by only one lamp.

“You want me to turn something on? It’ll be fine as long as I keep the volume low.” Ben gropes for the remote on the desk when Armie hums in vague agreement, sinking down besides the other boy as he flicks on the television. Ben flips around until finding some older-looking movie he feels Armie might like. From the amount of gray men in suits that walk into frame it’s probably one of those political thriller films from the forties he’s always trying to get Ben to watch.

Well. No time like the present. Armie seems a little off, so hopefully this will cheer him up.

But when Ben looks over to him, he finds Armie’s not looking at the screen, eyes instead downcast upon where his hands fold in his lap. He hasn’t really reacted at all since sitting down, not to the television or Ben’s presence.

Concern worries in his stomach but Ben knows better not to pry when Armie’s shut off like this. They’ve been friends for years but he’s still pretty private, and tends to react fairly negatively when Ben tries to get past his walls. The only real fights they’ve ever had stemmed from that, so Ben’s learned to back off whenever Armie’s sending out serious “don’t talk to me” vibes.

Still, he can’t help but wonder where this all comes from. They’ve been friends for years but Ben doesn’t know all that much about his home life or what happened before he moved to town. Hell, Ben’s been to his house a handful of times and he’s still never met Armie’s stepmom nor any other member of his family apart from his dad

Ben’s not a fan of Brendol Hux, so he’s not quite complaining that he hardly gets a chance to visit Armie at home.

He leans back, propping himself up as he half-watches the roundtable of suits arguing on the television, wondering if he should say something but not sure what. Armie remains still, sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers rubbing the hem of his sweater. But just as Ben opens his lips to break the silence Armie suddenly leans back and turns to rest his head against his shoulder.

Ben’s heart jumps in surprise at the sudden contact, expecting Armie to excuse this kind of intimacy like he usually does, but he stays quiet and only turns his nose against Ben’s shoulder, inhales like minute kisses against the fabric of his hoodie.

Ben watches, a little stunned. He’s never seen Armie this openly affectionate before. He’s pretty aloof about physical contact, though Ben’s got him to open up a little more in recent years. But definitely not enough for this degree of friendly cuddling. Or so he thought.

Ben wonders if something’s caused this change of heart—as well as the unexpected late night visit.

But he’s not exactly in the mood to rebuke it. Really Ben’s long pined for this kind of closeness with Armie, to fill in the last space missing in their friendship He tilts his chin down, watching the reflection of the television play across Armie’s pale skin. He can tell he’s still not watching the movie all that closely, but that hardly matters when they’re cuddled up like this.

Ben inhales slowly, careful not to disturb his resting friend too much, though the pounding of his heart might’ve already done so.

Wow. Armie’s hair smells nice. Ben hopes that’s not too weird to think that, as it’s just hard not to notice when he’s leaning against him. He turns his head slightly, inhaling the sweet scent and trying to figure out what exactly it is. Lemon, and maybe a hint of something more herbaceous.  

He doesn’t ask, honestly a little afraid to hear what Armie might say if he did. Instead, he just starts combing through his hair—at first just barely, his fingertips dipping through the feathery ginger locks like he’s afraid he might spook him. But Armie doesn’t pull away, or even comment on how Ben’s touching him. He doesn’t stiffen or twitch, only relaxing against him as Ben lightly skates his fingers against his scalp.

Soon he’s stroking through Armie’s hair properly, loving how soft it feels against his palm, how his friend almost melts against him. Just like a cat, Ben thinks with a smile, remembering the time they’d encountered a stray while walking home from school. It’d happened way back in middle school. Armie had convinced him to use his jacket to wrap up the poor thing once they’d coaxed her out from beneath a rain-soaked bush, insisting he couldn’t use his own blazer to keep the cat warm. Ben hadn’t complained, more amused by the stray’s orange coat and how closely it matched Armie’s fiery hair than upset about his sodden jacket.

He remembers they gave the cat away once she was nursed back to health. Armie had grown quite fond of her, but argued his father would never approve of a pet. Ben would’ve taken her if not for the fact that his dad already owned a dog that didn’t exactly get along well with other animals.

He knows Armie still wants a cat. Maybe someday when he moves out of his dad’s house he can have one.

Ben almost loses himself in the soothing brush of Armie’s hair. His fingers now thread at the locks close to the top of his head, properly petting him. Armie feels so loose and weightless against him, completely relaxed and trusting Ben as he touches him.

Elation fills his chest, and Ben can’t stop himself from smiling. It feels right to keep close to Armie like this, to comfort him through whatever’s going on, because something always seems to be going on with him. He wishes Armie would open up a little more sometimes and let Ben know what he’s feeling but this—this is good. This is a start.

Then his finger brushes against something strange on his friend’s scalp.

Ben pauses for a moment, fingertips feeling out the edge of something firm and raised out of Armie’s skin. But as he tries to touch more of it, lips parting in confusion, Armie tenses and jerks away from his shoulder. Ben catches a glimpse of his friend’s wide eyes and trembling lip before Armie pushes himself up off the bed. He clenches both his fists, voice hurried and wavering as he speaks.  

“I—I have to go, this was a mistake—“

Ben’s up in a flash, longer stride quickly putting him right up behind Armie, who’s trying to grasp the doorknob with shaky hands. He doesn’t quite get it turned before he’s pulling on it, jolting the door against the jamb andsending a shudder through the house that might wake up Ben’s parents. Fear jolts through the teen’s chest, and he reaches out.

“No, Armie, wait—“

Ben grabs his wrist and pulls without thinking. To his horror Armie reacts instantly, a muted cry ringing from his throat, like it’s hurt him. Ben instantly lets him go but instead of running away Armie shrinks down, arms wrapping back around his chest.

There’s some kind of shootout scene ringing on the television, the beginnings of climactic showdown between the enemy spy and the hero flashing across the carpet as Ben quickly kneels at Armie’s side, hands floating above his shoulders. He doesn’t know what to do, or whether the labored breathing wracking his friend’s body is all his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ben stammers out the apology, struggling to find the right words. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so s—“

“N-No, no. You didn’t. You don’t have to be…” Armie clears his throat, voice returning with just a shred more composure. “I’m sorry. That…that was uncalled for.”

He tries to sit up straight, expression sudden fallen with shame at the outburst. Ben can see the wear on his face with alarming clarity now. The sallow cheeks, the bruises under his eyes and—most alarming of all—a puffy  little cut on the slope below his chin.

“I really should leave. You’re not—you don’t have to deal with me.” Armie babbles as he turns away from Ben’s gaze. His fingers anxiously stroke through his hair, trying to push the mussed locks back into their usual place.

“Don’t, please.” Ben still hesitates placing his hand on Armie’s shoulder, or anywhere else, no matter how much he wants to.

“I shouldn’t have touched you there. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know…whatever it was…I didn’t know it would freak you out so much.” He doesn’t know if any of his apologies will help get Armie to believe him, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Gradually, Armie sits back off his knees, though his arms stay guarded around his body. He rubs his hands along the bend of his elbows, like he’s still cold despite sitting in the musty warmth of the bedroom. Ben’s heart pangs as the fabric of Armie’s sweater pulls along the thinness of his limbs.  

“It’s okay…I didn’t even think about it…It felt so nice for you to…” Armie trails off into silence, letting his eyes flutter shut. Outside the rain has started, beating a soft tattoo against the house. The movie too has reached a lulling denouement, the sounds of polished professional voices fading as Ben focuses his full attention on Armie.

He doesn’t know what’ll happen now, what he should say or do. He realizes Armie probably wants to let it go, bury it away like he always does and never speak of it again. But Ben can’t stop thinking about that thing—that scar on his head, hidden under the beguiling locks of hair.

How long has it been there?

“I just—,“ he swallows past the tightness in his throat that’s grown in the silence, “—want to help you if I can. If you need to—I mean—”

“Ben.” Armie shakes his head with a dead chuckle. “You don’t want to know about what happens.”

“But I do. If you want to tell me I—I’ll listen.” Ben finally pushes past his own hangups and reaches out, resting his hand on his friend’s knee. “I promise.”

Armie leans back against the bedroom door, shoulders rising with a weighty breath. His lips tighten together, a last ditch effort to hold back what threatens to spill out of him. Ben scoots a little closer, palm rubbing down Armie’s thigh, hoping his presence is helpful.

“My—my father has this damned ring. From his military days. Big old gaudy thing.” Armie emphasizes the shape with his hand. “Engraved and solid. He likes to wear it on his forefinger, fidget it over the knuckle.”

Ben vaguely remembers something like that from the few times he’s encountered Brendol, though he never took much notice of the specifics. The man’s a arrogant windbag, dressed with like he thinks he’s some the last beacon of aristocracy in the modern day. Always looking down his nose at those around him, even his own son—like gaudy jewelry and a pompous attitude makes him the better man.

“Things weren’t great when I was younger,” Armie continues, voice just above a drone. “I mean, they’re not great n—well, they were worse back then, right after he married my stepmother. They fought a lot. Sometimes I got in the way.”

Ben’s stomach sinks, but he dare not stop Armie, even though he dreads where this is leading. He watches as his friend swallows harshly, expression trembling.  

“I don’t remember much of it, but I know that he hit me when I tried to get them to stop once. He got so angry he…punched me in the head.” Armie mimes the action with a numb fist. “Just…like he didn’t care what might happen to me after.”

Anger flares up inside Ben at the confirmation of his worst fears, calling all sorts of terrible images to the forefront of his mind. His Armie, just a kid, indifferently assaulted by his own father. He’s always found Brendol Hux unpleasant, the tension Ben senses between him and his son all but confirmed whenever Armie complains about him. But he would’ve never guessed that the animosity ran that horribly deep.  

Armie lifts his hand to the side of his head, where Ben had found the scar, fingers twitching as if afraid to touch it, as if it still hurts him.

“I needed stitches. I was only five, and I needed thirteen stitches for what he did to me,” Armie spits.

Ben feels sick with rage. He’d only felt the edge of the ragged skin, the healed-over evidence of Armie’s pain. It must extend even further along his scalp, an inescapable reminder of what his father did to him.

“And that wasn’t the first time he did it. Or—“ Armie’s chest hitches, fists clenching in his lap. “—or the last.”

He leans his head back against the bedroom door, finally looking Ben’s in the eyes. Despite his efforts to come his hair back earlier it’s fallen across his forehead once more, looking thin and lifeless.

“Ben, it’s—it’s never going to stop, is it?” Armies voice cracks out of the dull monotone, pain and frustration finally bleeding out as tears start to collect in his already reddened eyes. “If it hasn’t stopped by now, it’s not ever going to. Not until one us of dies.”

He palms his forehead, teeth gritting around his weak sobbing.

“I wish he was dead, why can’t he just die and leave me alone?” Armie gasps, his entire body shaking as tears crawl down his cheeks.

Ben’s never seen him cry, and it hurts. It’s not like that kind of healing crying, nor tears brought about by moments of great joy. It’s frustrated and crumbling Armie down right in front of him. It’s a cry for help.

In that moment Ben’s hands itch for a fight, for anything to help him deal with the sudden furious energy rolling through his body. He feels like he could scream and throw things, maybe even march to the Hux household through the rain and beat Brendol’s face in until the storm gutters ran with blood—

—but Armie needs him. He needs Ben’s comforting presence. Not his boundless anger, or his need for vengeance.

Those will come later, when they’re rested and clear-thinking and ready to make a plan.

“Hey, shh. C’mon, don’t cry.” Ben tries to keep his voice even, to push away the rage that bubbles up for his friend’s sake. “You’re going to be alright.”

Armie snorts through his tears, disbelieving, but Ben leans in and wraps his arms around him before he can protest. He holds him close, one hand around Armie’s waist with the other pressed against the back of his head, pulling him away from the door and letting him rest against his shoulder. Ben feels him sniffle, body shivering as it slowly relaxes in his grasp.

Armie’s so much slighter than him, less bulked out with brawn—but Ben suddenly feels he’s the strongest person he’s ever met.

“I…” Ben starts, his own voice feeling roughed and hard to command as it brushes against the side of Armie’s head. “…I’m really glad you. Y’know. Came here tonight.”

It feels like a lame, inadequate thing to say after Armie’s spilled his guts out to him, but Ben can’t think of anything else. He really is grateful that his friend is here, somewhere safe and away from the monster who calls himself his father. If Ben could, he’d keep Armie here for as long as he wanted to stay. He’d never have to go back to that house where Brendol could keep hurting him.

Armie sniffs, rubbing his face against Ben’s hoodie, before carefully pulling away. Despite the tears, he looks a little better now, even managing a weak smile that goes right to Ben’s heart. He wipes at his nose with his sleeve, letting out a soft sigh.

“I probably look a mess…sorry.”

“You really, really don’t have to apologize,” Ben stresses. “It’s late. And you look real good anyway.” Armie gives him a strange glance at the admission, but Ben quickly changes the subject.

“You wanna sleep in that,” he whispers as he rubs the shoulder of Armie’s sweater, “or do you need something else to change into?”

“Uh…I’m not sure any of your clothes would fit me…” Armie sniffs, even mustering a small laugh as he presumably envisions what Ben’s closet full of hoodies and baggy jeans might look like on him.

“Well you’ll just be sleeping in them, not going to meet the Queen for tea.” Ben affects a weak impression of Armie’s accent, hoping it’ll earn him more of that smile. It does get Ben a slight, amused eye-roll which is—all things considered—close enough.

“C’mon.” He helps Armie up off the floor, guiding him back to the bed to sit. “I’ll grab you something.”

Ben scrounges in his closet, finding a pair of pajama pants he’d gotten for one Christmas and never tried on, as well as the least worn of his collection of black graphic shirts. He gives it a quick sniff, before deciding it’s clean enough for Armie to wear and holds it out to him.

“Here.”

Armie takes the clothes with only a little bit of skepticism. Ben shrugs sheepishly, smoothing his hair back.

“They’re not that bad, right?”

“Someone needs to teach you how to do laundry one of these days,” Armie tsks, even as his fingers brush affectionately over the clothing. “It’s better than nothing,” he adds after a moment.

“That’s practically a compliment from you. Now go get changed before you fall asleep in your slacks.” Ben sends him off to the adjoining bathroom, before deciding to clean up the bed a little bit more. He pulls out a pillow wedged between the mattress and the wall, fluffing it up along with the rest before brushing the covers flat and grabbing an extra blanket folded up under the bed.  

By the time he’s finished things up the bathroom light clicks off behind him. Ben turns around to see Armie crouching in the doorway, gingerly setting his old clothes and damp loafers upon the floor before shuffling towards him.

Both the shirt and pajama pants hang off his skinny frame, making Armie look a lot smaller than he actually is and—honestly?—pretty adorable. Ben’s almost thankful for the dim light in his room, because otherwise Armie might see him blushing.

“Not half bad.” Ben nods his approval, patting the covers beside him. “This could be a new look for you. We could match.”

Armie rolls his eyes and comes to sit on the bed, the cuffs of the pants pooling over his bare feet.

“I wouldn’t dare. The world doesn’t need two Ben Solos on its hands.” He smirks, before reclining back against the bed. Armie stays that way for a couple moments, chest rising and falling gently with his breath, before pulling his legs up onto the bed and curling onto his side. His hair splays out slightly over Ben’s dark bedcovers, contrast making it more vibrant. He looks so soft, so vulnerable lying in Ben’s bed, and when Armie’s eyes lift up and lock with his he’s sure his blush could glow through even the deepest darkness.

Ben shuts off the television, now playing the end of the movie’s credits, before lying down besides the other boy. Ben faces him, only a moment of doubt flickering between them before he reaches out and pulls Armie in close. Ben would’ve never dared to hold him like this before tonight, too afraid of how his friend might respond—but it feels like their relationship has shifted a little bit, at least to warrant a deeper sort of intimacy. A crack in Armie’s hardened armor has opened, and Ben fits into it perfectly.

The rain continues outside, drawing glistening patterns against the window. It looks and sounds cold, and Ben wonders if it’ll continue into the next day or break once morning dawns, showing the sun through the clouds.

He nudges his nose into Armie’s hair, hand brushing over his back and feeling the slope of his body beneath his palm. He still smells of citrus and herbs, a bright aromatic spot in the dark musk of the bedroom. Even half-sleep and clad in Ben’s spare clothing, he brightens up the space between them.

Ben curls around his best friend, the person he cares most for in his life, slipping their legs together beneath the blankets. He feels he might be pushing his luck but he wants to be as close to Armie as possible, keeping him shielded and safe from everything out there that wants to hurt him.

It’s all Ben can do for now.

[europeanguy]

Gotta Gogh [Part 4: Paris Fucking France]

Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell

Words: 4,320

Tags: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, Curse words probably, The Riot Club!AU not really anymore lol

A/N: Well, hello again. It’s been like 2 months since I last updated? Sorry 😥 This is part 4/5! It’s almost over y’all lmao

“-nous approchons maintenant de l'aéroport de Paris le Bourget…où l'heure locale est 11:00.”

Maxwell rubs his eyes, taking out one earbud that blasted pop music in his ears. He hasn’t visited Paris in ages. 

Nadia has a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair a nest. She stares slack-jawed outside her window, making Maxwell smile. It wasn’t like him to go to such lengths for a girl. Yet he was clueless on what to do about it. All he thought about these days was Nadia. Nadia, whose face is slightly illuminated by the city lights beneath as the plane gets closer. She jumps when the tires touch the tarmac. The small jet shakes as it speeds through the runway of the private airport – eventually slowing down to taxi. The cabin lights flicker back on and he winces at the sudden brightness.

“You okay? Are you hungr-“

“Hungry.” She turns to him, expression still in slight disbelief.

“Of course.” He laughs.

The air is heavy with cold recycled air and the scent of clean, dry pine. An attendant pours Evian into glasses as the other staff efficiently follow deplaning protocol. “Here you go,” She says in accented English. “The car will arrive in a moment sir. We’re sorry for the delay, it should have been waiting for you.”

Nadia’s eyebrows shoot up – amused – and takes one glass on the tray. Maxwell thanks the attendant, a little embarrassed.

“You will need a jacket.” The attendant advises when the plane’s doors are opened. Nadia sighs and looks at Maxwell. “Fine. And I’m going to pay you back for it.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Maxwell winks and barely dodges a pillow that Nadia throws in his direction. “It’s a little late to get dinner right here, but I’m sure we have food at uh-“ He clears his throat. “home.”

“Home? Where are we staying again?”

“Sir, the car is here.”

Maxwell gets up from his seat and stretches as much as he could inside the jet. “My mom’s old house. Unless you want to go to a hostel… sleep next to some strangers…?”

“Hostels have individual beds!” Nadia huffs, folding her blanket as she gets up but gives up on it halfway. She shoots the attendant an apologetic look. I will take care of it, she smiles. Friendly, understanding. “Plus, how else can you make new friends?”

Maxwell nods. “Right, right. Like us?”

Nadia laughs. “Yeah?” He lets her pass through first. The stewardess hands her a thick, fur-lined suede jacket before they get out. She looks a little confused when the stewardess helps her put it on but goes with it.

 Once settled in the heated car, their fingers and the tips of their noses thaw from the cold. Nadia looks out the window in awe. Even Maxwell admits, seeing Paris at night is still a shock to the system. The air was different, roads more crowded with tourists. In a way it was a beautiful chaos compared to Cordonia.

“I still can’t- am I actually here? In Paris-fucking-France?” Nadia tears her gaze away from the view.

“Paris-fucking-France indeed. I missed this place.” Maxwell looks outside as the car passes a huge open plaza flanked by three old buildings – the middle one being the biggest and most imposing. “Look, l’École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts. National School of Fine Arts.”

Nadia nods, recognizing the name. “Degas, Monet, Renoir, Fragonard… shit, can we go?!”

“Sure.” Maxwell laughs. “We’re almost here though. It’s tucked away in a street here, near that church.”

The car avoids a couple of tourists, swerving down a private road. Rows of townhomes line each side, accented with vintage cars and a scatter of leaves. Just ahead, his mother’s home situated near the end of the line. Almost 10,000 square feet of land, three-floors, and light spilling warmth out the windows. With Bertrand being the older son – and the default heir of almost everything in Ramsford – the will stated that Maxwell get everything from his mother’s side, including this house. Legally, it was his house now. This huge, late 17th century heritage, passed on in a straight line in his mother’s side.

Maxwell helps Nadia out of the car. He knocks the gold door knocker before feeling a little weird. This was his. He pushes the door open and a blond form hurtles itself from the foyer, engulfing him in a warm hug.

“Ines!” He hugs her back, smiling into her hair. He falters momentarily when she steps back and holds him at arm’s length. His mom would’ve been Ines’ age today. He remembers, Ines being his mother’s closest friend and confidante. She never laughed as hard as she had with Ines as they took tea during afternoons – Bertrand and Maxwell playing but mostly fighting – in the gardens. Ines looks more or less the same, albeit having more lines settling in her skin. She still had her perpetually pink cheeks and her friendly brown eyes.

“C’est qui, ca?”

“C’est Nadia,” Maxwell silently wishes his mother would peek from the parlour, tease him about finally bringing a girl home.

“Nice to meet you!” Nadia smiles, unsure what to do next.

“Ohhh, how pretty!” Ines envelops her in a tight hug. Nadia returns her hug eagerly. “Are you hungry? Tu aimes bien les pâtes?”

Maxwell mouths pasta? at her and she nods. “Pasta sounds good.”

“So, this is your mom’s house?” Nadia asks when Ines quickly disappears into the kitchen. It is more like an art gallery than a home. Instead of flowers, the foyer’s centerpiece was a sculpture of a head. The walls are white Rococo panels – intricate leaves and shell mouldings. It wouldn’t surprise anyone if it turns out that those Monets and Manets on the walls are real. The living room was tastefully furnished with actual canape settees balanced with more modern pieces. “It’s beautiful.”

“She loves this place,” More so than the Ramsford Estate, more than any other property of theirs. “She loves art too, you know? She would’ve liked you.” Maxwell tries to smile as he takes it all in. He sinks down on a couch, feeling all of a sudden tired but so wide awake.

“Well, she has amazing taste.” Nadia nods in approval as she surveys the room. “Oh my god… Is this you?!”

Nadia holds up a gold frame, a picture of 11-year old Maxwell in his Halloween costume – a chubby little superman. Beside him, she recognizes Liam and Olivia – dressed as Harry Potter and a dragon, respectively. In the corner, a white blur.

“Don’t look at that!” Maxwell snatches the frame as Nadia laughs.

“You were so adorable! I didn’t know you guys celebrated Halloween in Cordonia.” She peeks over his shoulder, trying to get a look at the picture again. “What’s that white thing?”

Maxwell snorts. “Drake. He dressed up as a ‘ghost’, apparently. He didn’t even want to be in the picture.”

He remembers that night. It was mostly Drake’s idea to get more candy from the palace kitchens. He brought it up, and Liam made it happen.

“We have an equivalent holiday to uh, remember.” Maxwell distracts himself by rubbing the smudges on the glass with his sleeve, then sets it back down on the side table. “Honestly? The American way is a lot better.”

Nadia grins. “Kai and I make costumes together so we’re coordinating. Every. Single. Year.”

“Attend any parties?”

“No.” Nadia sighs. “I miss her though, I can’t believe we have to break tradition this year.”

Maxwell pouts. “When are you seeing her again?”

“In two months… when I go back.” Nadia smiles bitterly.

“You leave in two months?!” Maxwell sits up in alarm. Oh, shit.

“Yeah. The semester ends in two months, duh!”

“Noooo!” He throws himself back dramatically on the couch.

“What do you mean ‘Noooo’?” Nadia laughs. “So um, don’t you have a brother? Is he here?”

“Way to change the subject, Nadia.” Maxwell frowns, his eyes trailing to his and Bertrand’s picture above a small fireplace. “Bertrand? He’s back in Ramsford probably tearing his hair out with…responsibilities.”

 After a very late dinner, Ines fixes up a room for Nadia. Maxwell is back in his old room, wearing matching sweats that faintly smells like lavender (thanks to Ines). This room is the smallest one he has, and yet it was his favorite. His old drawings stacked neatly in a drawer, his old camera that probably doesn’t work anymore, an old love letter to the first girl he liked, pictures of his friends. A picture of his mom.

“Max?”

A muffled voice calls.

“…mom?”

“Uh, no?” Nadia gently opens the door. She is wearing the pajamas Ines provided, her black hair down. Maxwell tears his eyes away, blushing. Thank god it’s too dark for her to see. He can never get used to just how beautiful she was.

“Can’t wait until tomorrow, huh?” Maxwell stands up from the bed, walking over to her standing underneath the threshold. “I can’t sleep either.” He braces himself on the open door with one arm. Nadia gives him a weird look.

“What are you doing? Mr. GQ?” She teases, and after a second they both burst into laughter. “I mean… yeah, it’s only midnight. Are you tired?”

“I’d like nothing more than to get out of here,” He looks around. “Maybe come back when we’re ready to pass out or something.”

Nadia frowns in concern. “What’s the matter?”

He gestures wildly around him.

“Tell me, then?” She crosses the threshold and plops on the bed, bouncing a couple of times, then looks at him expectantly.

“Are you trying to get me to open up?” Maxwell laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, I’ll get a car ready.”

“Fine.” Nadia shrugs. “Can we walk though?”

“Sure.”

 “Are you sure you’re not cold like that?”

Nadia prances around the street in her pajamas and the suede jacket from earlier. “I’m too happy to feel cold!” She spins ungracefully, grinning widely.

“You’re… really something.” Maxwell’s lips tug into a smile, his heart speeding up when she meets his eyes. “Where do you wanna go?”

“I was thinking – we could hit the museums tomorrow, but tonight we get a proper drink. I’m 19 and I cAN GET WASTED IN FRANCE!” She yells into the sky.

“Drinks with the little umbrellas?” Maxwell suggests.

“Drinks with the little umbrellas, nothing less.”

 Nadia skips lightly as she walks, like a child trying not to scream, gasping as they turn to an old narrow street. The starlight seemed to glow in sync with the buildings, reflections bouncing off of the still slick trees. The lungs of Paris breathes life through the city from the cracks of aged brick and the shimmer of light dancing on the puddles’ surface – and Nadia was in awe. The rush of cheerful passersby, the bustle at night in all of its glory – overwhelming and yet somehow as comforting as home. It seemed to lift her spirit among the trees, sights, and sound pulsing through her veins.

“Does it live up to expectations so far?” Maxwell asks, stepping beside her.

“So far? It’s more than I ever- ugh, it’s so much better.” Nadia squeals. “It’s amazing.”

“It is,” Maxwell agrees, looking at her.

They wander through the streets, Nadia’s unconventional get-up getting a few looks. They pass numerous patisseries, most of them closed. Nadia stops in front of a nondescript black French door with the lights still on.

“Oh man, those look good.” She bites her lip, scanning the store through the small openings. “Do you think they would mind-?”

“We’ll be in and out of their hair in like, two minutes.” He walks up to the door and holds it open for Nadia.

“You like these hole-in-the-wall places huh?” Nadia walks in, appreciating the rich décor and antique paintings randomly hung on the walls.

“I’ve grown to love them.”

Nadia blushes but busies herself with the options displayed on the glass casing.

“I think they’re actually about to close…” Maxwell looks at the cashier awkwardly. He simply shrugs at Maxwell, as if to say, well, are you gonna buy anything?

“Right,” Nadia’s eyebrows knit together, looking for something, then quickly giving up. “You pick I can’t handle being time pressured!”

Maxwell laughs, nodding. “Okay, uh, Je voudrais des éclairs au chocolat et, euh… des macarons, s’il vous plait.”

“À emporter?” The cashier rolls his eyes.

“Oui, pardon.”

He quickly arranges the macarons by color inside a box and a few eclairs in another. They were outside in a flash. Maxwell gets a deep pink macaron as they walk – raspberry chocolate, his favorite. He notices Nadia looking queasy as she bites into a bright yellow one.

“Not good?”

“Maxwell,” Nadia looks up at him. “Why take me here? Seriously?”

“Because… I can?”

“That’s a cop-out answer,” She frowns. “I mean, you’ve spent so much… that private plane, this freaking jacket… this!” She holds up the half-moon shaped macaron.

“Nadia, if you think I’m doing this to get something in return – you’re so wrong. Like, more wrong than the person who invented math.”

“Huh?” Nadia laughs.

“God, I- remind me again why we didn’t get drinks FIRST THING?”

Nadia widens her eyes innocently.

“I guess I really like you?”

“…you guess?” Nadia tries not to smile.

“Yeah. When we were in that hallway in the palace… I guess I realized I would literally do anything and everything to see you happy…if you let me.”

“You’re so-“

“Cheesy.”

“Cute. But also…cheesy. Made me cringe a bit.”

Maxwell gasps. “I TAKE IT ALL BACK!”

Nadia bursts into laughter as she links her arm with his. His nerves go into haywire when she does.

“…wait… you said I was cute?” He looks at her.

“Nope. I’m just here for your money. I don’t think you’re cute at all!” Nadia finishes her macaron, finally looking more peaceful. “Mm, mango!”

“I think I need that drink now.” He cringes, realizing that he sounded just like Drake.

 Stuffed with macarons and eclairs (Maxwell discovered that Nadia ALWAYS had room for dessert), they eventually find a rooftop bar packed with tourists and locals alike. The moonlight shone on the slightly damp stone, the cloudless sky stretching above the city. Obscure French indie music blast from the speakers, but surprisingly not loud enough to make anyone deaf within a mile radius.

“We’re going to die, are we?” Maxwell stares at the drinks Nadia brings back from the bar, balancing a tray of two oversized snifters with electric green liquid, white smoke swirling at the top, and packed with different kinds of candy as “garnish”. She sets them down on their narrow round bar table, looking satisfied.

“They didn’t have the colorful umbrellas, unfortunately.” She excitedly takes her glass and sips the straw. “Cold!!”

Maxwell decides, fuck it, and takes a sip on his own. His eyes widen at the refreshing citrusy flavor. “Shit, that’s good! I don’t even know what it is?”

“Better than your Pineapple Paradise Punch?” Nadia grins.

Maxwell touches his heart. “You remembered?” She rolls his eyes at him. “Almost, but no.”

Nadia raises her heavy glass with both hands. “To Paris?”

“To Paris-fucking-France.” Maxwell does the same, clinking his glass with hers.

Suddenly, a surprise English song plays. There's a spanner in the works, you know, You gotta step up your game to make it to the top…

“I love this song!” Nadia gasps. “Got a little competition now, you're gonna find it hard to cope, livin' on your own, ooh, ooh-” She sings, off-key and so off-beat. She uses one of the lollipops the drink came with as a microphone. The cold wind rustles through her hair but she doesn’t seem to mind as she sings, and then the realization hits Maxwell like an arrow shot through him. His breath catches, like his heart just burst. I’m in trouble.

“Let's get this started, girl, we're movin' up, we're movin' up, it's been a lot to change, but youuuu…will always get what you want.” Maxwell sings along with her, and her eyes widen in surprise when she hears him.

“You know this song?!”

“It’s so bad! Of course I do.” So much trouble. He knew for a while. It was as if he touched a rippling pool, calming the waters with his hand – turning everything crystal clear. Maxwell takes an especially big gulp of his drink. The song ends, just as quickly as it started.

“So what makes Paris so special?” Maxwell looks out on the view, answering his own question. Lights glittered all throughout the cityscape, the Eiffel Tower in the distance. The silver of the moonlight shines subtly in the cloudless dark blanket of a sky.

Nadia smiles. “I guess it’s obvious why. The art scene, mostly.” She sighs dreamily. “But the culture too, the vibe – I feel like I’m transported to another time, you know what I mean? It’s a beautiful thing.”

“Ever painted it?”

Nadia snorts. “I have a whole collection centered on it. It’s the stuff of my dreams.”

“You dream about Paris?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “So um, can we circle back to that conversation earlier?”

Maxwell could feel his heart drop to his stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…?”

“You liking me, me going away…” Nadia’s eyes are down, focused on the green liquor they both don’t know the name of.

“You liking me back…?” Maxwell tries to joke.

She looks up at him, “Me telling you we should be just friends.”

Maxwell doesn’t know what it is. Maybe the fact that he’s finished his drink half-way, maybe it’s because she’s going away in 2 months, maybe it’s Paris. Maybe it’s the way Nadia looks at him that makes what she just said a complete and obvious lie. But something fills him a burst of confidence. “So I can’t think about kissing you?”

“Friends… don’t do that, do they?” Nadia palms her face, trying to hide her smile. “God, I can’t look at you right now.”

“Don’t be weird, Nadia.” Maxwell laughs.

Nadia huffs. “Just promise me one thing, for when I go back to New York.”

“Fine. What?”

“You’ll continue being you. The Maxwell who is always laughing, dancing, joking around…”

“Well that’s depressing.” Maxwell groans. “Okay. Only if you also promise me,”

Nadia looks up at him.

“That…” He leans in, eyes flitting down to her lips. “….you’ll acknowledge me as the Dancing King, superior to all.” His voice is silent, barely a whisper.

Nadia’s cheeks are pink, she smacks him on the shoulder and looks away. “You’re… you’re-“

“The best? Thank you.”

“The worst.” Nadia laughs. “I bet you drove Ines crazy growing up.”

Maxwell chews on his bottom lip. “I do though,” He can’t help but smile at the memories coming back to him. “Although I haven’t really visited ever since Bertrand and I lost our parents.”

Nadia reaches over the bar table to squeeze his hand. “….I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Nadia. I mean it.” Maxwell meets her eyes. “Don’t worry about me though,”

“Is this why you wanted to get out of the house?” Nadia asks quietly.

“Am I that obvious?” Maxwell raises an eyebrow at her, trying to lighten the mood. To his relief, she catches on quick.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m actually an android who can read minds.” Nadia deadpans, and then suddenly she lights up – like she just realized something. “You know what? You should do something – to remember them.”

He narrows his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

Nadia’s gaze is fixed on a guy behind Maxwell, every exposed inch of his skin covered in tattoos. Including his face. She looks at Maxwell again. “You don’t think-?”

“YES. I’M DOING IT.”

-

Nadia fruitlessly fans Maxwell’s face with her hand inside the hot studio, he nods after the not-so-calming words she keeps repeating – he couldn’t really hear anything. It was just him and that shiny, sharp needle. She’s even more worried than him. She stops trying to comfort him and slumps against a wall just as the tattoo artist comes with gloved hands and sterilized tools.

“You don’t get to blame me if this backfires.” Nadia warns. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Maxwell breaks his staring contest with the sharp tools.

“I’m so distracted by your twenty abs.”

“Twenty-? You’re not helping, perv!” Maxwell throws his sweatshirt at Nadia, which she catches before it hits her in the face. The artist grumbles in French for him to steady as he traces the stencil.

“Oh shit oh shit-“ Maxwell closes his eyes when his needle buzzes to life, ready to permanently ink him. He breathes deeply as the vibrating needle touches his skin, feeling as if it’s touching his bone. After a while it feels slightly numb, and before he knows it the sensation was gone. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is Nadia’s worried face, looking at his new tattoo.

“Is it bad?” He finally lets out the breath he’s been holding.

“No! It’s… it’s something.”

He listens to the guy’s instructions for aftercare, knowing full well that he’s going to forget the very next day.

Once outside, Nadia finally speaks. “I can’t believe you just- you did that!”

“I did it!” Maxwell grins, feeling exhilarated.

 Coming back to his mom’s house felt different with the tattoo. The lights were off, Ines and the other staff sound asleep. The only sounds were the wind rustling through the greenery and the silent sloshing of water in the deep mosaic pool.

“Nadia,” Maxwell looks at her. They were sitting on a carved stone bench next to the pool. Steam rises from the water’s surface, its lighting casting a blue green aura around the garden. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I feel so much closer to her,” Maxwell confesses. “It’s like… I don’t have to dread leaving this house every time anymore?”

Nadia nods, looking up at him.

“It’s not as heavy of a feeling, because I have her with me.” Maxwell laughs and shakes his head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly.” Nadia stands up and crouches next to the pool. “This is beautiful. Was it her idea?”

“You know it.” Maxwell stands beside her, their blurry shadows bouncing off the water, beneath it a symmetrical swirling pattern and subtly peacock feather-like shapes formed by thousands of little tiles. Their father complained that it made the garden look too ostentatious, but it was one of a kind. Maxwell smirks at Nadia, getting an idea. “Wanna get a closer look? It’s heated.”

“What? Maxwell no-“

Maxwell backtracks a few steps then runs forward. He jumps high, fully clothed with his shoes on, then lands with a huge splash. He shakes his wet hair out of his face when he surfaces then laughs at Nadia’s shell-shocked expression.

“Come on!”

“Fuck it.” Nadia stands up and ungracefully swan-dives into the pool. She surfaces, laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re crazy enough to jump with me!” Maxwell sticks his tongue out and splashes Nadia, a huge wave of water hitting her face.

“You’re gonna pay for that!” But before Nadia could splash him, she freezes.

“What?”

“Your tattoo! You can’t be swimming!”

“Shit!”

They both scramble to get out of the pool. The night air chills their soaked skin and heavy clothes, so they run back to the house – the sound of their laughter rising among the squeaking of their shoes.

“Ines is going to kill me.” Maxwell whispers before he opens the back door. Nadia wrings out the corner of her top before she enters.

“My jacket is ruined.” She frowns.

-

Maxwell stares up on the underside of his canopy. As a child his mother hung a mobile of shells on it – he doesn’t know where it is, probably a in a dusty box in the attic. But the room doesn’t feel as empty as it did a few hours ago. Maxwell sighs, maybe it’s just the light sting on his chest. He feels it over his shirt. A little hippo. He turns to his side, feeling a little uncomfortable with his still wet, but not dripping, hair. Nadia comes out of the en-suite with her hair up in a towel. Maxwell lent her his clothes, his t-shirt and shorts looking extra-large on her frame. She collapses beside him on the bed.

“My feet feel like jelly.” She whispers.

Maxwell is still reeling from their little adventure – not to mention all the sugar they consumed. “…Same.”

Nadia hiccups, breaking the silence, and Maxwell laughs, his stomach hurting. “Ow… that was cute.”

“Your hair is cute.” Nadia sits up, trying to insult him.

“What?” Maxwell follows her, unconsciously feeling his hair.

Nadia looks at him, her expression softening. “Huh, it actually looks cute. You can tie it up in little poofs.”

“We really need to sleep.” Maxwell locks eyes with Nadia, suddenly aware of how close their faces are.

Nadia nods. “Yeah…”

Maxwell doesn’t move, and neither does she. He leans in, his hand cupping her cheek. He doesn’t ask, instead his eyes search hers. He is breathless, the sound of his heart beating so loudly he’s convinced she could hear it. Before Maxwell could pull away because this is a bad, bad idea, Nadia closes her eyes and presses her lips to his. His eyes widen in shock at first, slowly closing when it felt like his brain would melt. He kisses her back, his hand drifting on the back of her neck to pull her closer. Nadia smiles against his kiss, and he hesitantly pulls away – forehead touching hers.

“Good night.” Nadia kisses him again, quick and soft, before standing up and making her way to the door, back to her own room.

Once the door clicks shut, Maxwell throws himself back on the bed with a groan, covering his flushed face with both hands.

How is he supposed to sleep after that?

to be continued

FUN FACTS that I made up all in my head so don’t take it too seriously

Did Kiara write this chapter?

-        First of all, the French parts were google translated so please pleASE LET ME LIVE. (It also included an amount of research on How Not to Sound Like An Idiot – which was fun.)

-        Second, idk either HAHA but the Beaumont name sounds super French to me so I hc that they have some of that blood in them and they have very strong ties to it despite being an old and established family in Cordonia. So like, let’s say Maxwell and Bertrand grew up speaking French before Cordonian and English, since it was first taught to them at home.

-        Third, I just wanted to be cute. (I also have no consistency).

Their song:

-        The song Nadia sings at the bar is supposed to be Stay by Zedd and Alessia Cara, and then I realized… the story is set in 2011. So I had to scour my playlist for a song that doesn’t break the rules of time and space. Bam, Something Good Can Work by Two Door Cinema Club. It helps if you listen to it while reading that part 😉

[kawaiibobatea-blog]

Chapter 15: Exiles

The moon was shining bright, its rays illuminating the surrounding area. While Sans had always thought the nighttime was beautiful, this night was changing his mind. The rays he would’ve once considered beautiful now filled him with dread. The shadows that danced in the darkness of night that once sparked the imagination now set him on edge making him wonder; what was around the corner? Who was around the corner? And the stars… the beautiful, beautiful stars seemed to dim as if they didn’t want to cast light on something so pitiful and hopeless.

Yes.

Pitiful. Hopeless. Those were some of the only ways he knew how to describe this. While all the monsters fit into the large Old War slums there was nowhere near enough housing to accommodate all the exiled citizens. The ones that had been lucky enough to enter the slums first were able to claim one of the rundown and beaten houses. Without enough rooves to shelter everyone from the snow, soon fear and anxiety took over and fighting broke out among each other. The humans that had “escorted” them to their new homes did nothing to try and stop the fights. A few of them even tapped another’s shoulder to turn around and watch. From their faces it seemed the only thing that they were missing was popcorn.

Perhaps at one time the humans would’ve considered them equal. Now, to them, they were nothing more than animals in a zoo. Animals to watch run about with no clue on how to live their lives. Whatever plot that he—or any other monster—could come up with to escape was quickly snuffed out. Each side of the district was surrounded by humans with large guns that would dust them quicker than they’d be able to run. The obvious disadvantage in the wake of terror didn’t stop everyone. The monsters that had started to fight among each other turned to some of the humans.

Sans, along with numerous other monsters, watched one tall and rather buff monster head towards the two humans blocking the front entrance yelling profanities and insults of varying degrees. Papyrus watched and took a step towards the altercation, but Sans quickly grabbed his brother’s arm to cease his advance. When Papyrus looked at his brother and back at the group, he stopped moving.

“What about our homes?”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

“What are we supposed to eat?”

“Where are we supposed to sleep?”

Three other monsters followed suit. All the back and forth yelling made each insult inaudible; blending into the next. The by standing monsters waited with bated breath on where this would lead. One of the monsters yelled in the human’s face. When the armor-clad human pressed the monster back to which he was shoved in retaliation everything erupted like a volcano. The humans stared threatening the monsters who were continuing their advance and shouting. It all happened so fast. No one could comprehend what had happened. One moment they were arguing, then one human knocked a monster down with the butt of his rifle, sending him to the snow-covered ground.

“You son of a bi—” The monster began, but… he was unable to finish his sentence.

The human raised his gun and without a flinch or hesitation shot the monster clean between the eyes sending blood and dust everywhere. Screams pierced the sky while mothers ran inward, holding their children close. The same children were turning to look back and cry various cries of “why” unanswered by their parents. The early demise of the monster was repeated with the other three that had dared to challenge the humans. Each monster fell to the ground with a loud and disgustingly wet thud. It took a lot for Sans’ stomach to turn but seeing the already dusting bodies desecrated by a kick to the head to move them over or a step on the body almost made him vomit. He glanced up at Papyrus whose eyes were wide.

“Anyone else?!” One of the humans, no… one of those monsters yelled to the crowds. It was no surprise that none answered his rhetorical question. They no doubt would not hesitate to pull the trigger on anyone without bias.

“Listen up! If any of you creatures step out of line again, you’ll meet the same fate as your dusted friends here!” Another human threatened. “You are no longer citizens of Ebott City! You will not leave unless you’re escorted by a human and the visit is approved. And if I catch an inkling of you using some magic, you’ll meet the end of our guns. Do you understand?”

Silence.

“He said: Do! You! Understand?!” Whimpers and cries dotted the crowd while heads nodded. “That’s what I thought! Now get settled into your new… lovely home.”

Left alone to their devices, Sans had to tear his eyes away from the place where the monsters had been shot… murdered. Fear shook him when he realized he had lost sight of his friends. Him and Papyrus were the only familiar faces in sight. With guards posted at every corner, thoughts of his friend’s dust scattering to the four winds seemed too real and too close for comfort.

“SANS…” Papyrus’ soft voice called Sans from his thoughts. “WHAT DID WE DO WRONG…?”

“nothing paps.”

“THEN WHY…? WE’RE ALL SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS! WHY…”

I wish i could answer your question, paps… i really do.

Monsters had broken into smaller groups; most likely familiar faces, friends, or family. From there, the looks in their eyes were unanimous. None of them knew what to do from there. Sans included. He tried to separate his own pain from the situation and focus solely on the objectives. Young children were freezing as they had been taken without preparation. Some of them were still in work clothes from the odd and very rare job. Others seemed to be taken right from their beds as they had pajamas on and were standing in the snow with no shoes on.

Feeling more lost than he had ever felt in the Underground, Sans almost fell into the snow himself and broke down in front of Papyrus. Just as his caps were buckling, a warmth radiated from behind.

“Sans. Are you alright?” The skeleton monster turned and let out an exhale of pure relief.

“grillbs.” Sans exhaled and glanced at Papyrus who was still staring at the dusted remains of the murdered monsters. “yeah… i’m alright.”

“Good. Papyrus?”

“…”

“paps.” Sans shook his brother’s shoulder which brought him back to reality. He blinked and looked over at Grillby, too lost in his own thoughts to realize Grillby had found them.

“GRILLBY.” Papyrus said and looked around. “WE LOST OUR OTHER FRIENDS…”

“All of them?”

“… yes.”

Grillby ran a hand through the crackling flame above his head. Sans could see the wheels turning in his best friend’s head. He was glad that one of them was still level-headed enough to think straight. He looked at the children who were holding tightly onto their parents and the parents who had given their coats or shoes to their children.

“First things first: Sans. Help me find barrels. Surely there are some still around if the homes are… somewhat standing.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Sans’ sockets. He had to pull it together. If not for himself then for Papyrus. He nodded and exhaled, trying to ignore how cold he was getting. “paps… help grillbs find some barrels. i’ll try and find some wood.” Papyrus gave a curt nod and went off with Grillby.

Sans canvased the area. He didn’t want to get too close to any of the armored humans lest they find some reason to just shoot him. They all seemed a little high on adrenaline and a little trigger happy after the murders… He found a small cluster of short trees and bushes, tearing off limbs and dead pine needles. He stuffed those into his jacket and shorts pockets to make room for more. He would have to make more than one trip to carry a significant amount.

When Sans reached the unspoken rendezvous point, he saw Grillby and Papyrus rolling a rusted and holey barrel each. Panicked, terrified, and freezing monsters looked at each other and rushed to help. The vessels for what would become fires were placed at the entrance of alleyways in neutral areas not favoring either the housed nor the street monsters. Sans put a few twigs and pine needles into each barrel. A small child, probably about the age of 9 held a few logs in their little arms. Sans distributed them among the fire pits. When he was happy enough and sure that these would be the beginnings of decent fires, he looked at his friend. Grillby simply nodded and placed a hand over the wood, catching it on fire. The crackling of the newly kindled fires seemed to light some hope into the hearts of the shivering monsters.

“Let’s all search for more barrels. We can split into separate teams; one for wood, another for barrels or some other sort of vessel to house fire.” Grillby instructed. “Spread the word… and with any luck we’ll all be here tomorrow to move forward.” The last part was murmured mostly to himself, but Sans was close enough to hear it.

Sans couldn’t think of a different time where monsters had worked together in a cohesive unit as they were now. All children were huddled around the fires trying their hardest to gather the warmth while the more adult monsters meandered around, scavenging to find the essentials for their nighttime survival. Anything that remotely looked like a vessel capable of housing a flame, Sans investigated. He dusted the snow off several containers; alerting the others in his group when he had found some that were suitable just to go and search for others. If some of these didn’t pan out they’d have no other second options. This place was a death sentence. They all knew it, but none had the heart or the guts to say it. Within a couple of hours, only five containers were found. Wood and other flammable items were set ablaze by Grillby’s touch. After the last was lit, Sans noticed something about Grillby. His friend, usually bright and shining was dim, lightly cracking, and visibly shaking from the chilled breeze. Inanimate fires took tending and constant care in any kind of breeze to prevent their extinction.

“grillbs.” Sans muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. His mittens had been inside the house back in the city, so his fingers were chilled to their marrow finding it hard to move them. “let’s get inside.”

“Sans. There could still be more out there.”

“if ya die, we’ll never know.”

“I’m—”

“bullshit. you’re looking like you’re on your last ember.”

“IT’S TRUE GRILLBY!” Papyrus agreed, coming up behind them. “YOU LOOK VERY TERRIBLE.”

Grillby chuckled and looked at his friends. “Alright. You win.”

With the crunching snow beneath their feet, the three friends trudged to Sans’ home. He had no where touched the door when cries came from behind them. They looked at a mother who was holding a child who had passed out in the snow. The boy’s lips were blue, and snow was clumped onto his fur.

“Sam… Sammy!” The dog monster begged, shaking her unresponsive son. “Sammy! Please wake up!” Her cries continued to get louder the more she shook her son. “Please don’t leave me!”

“hey…” He called, catching the woman’s attention. He jerked his head to the door. “bring him in here.”

“Y-You have a home?” The woman cried, holding her freezing son.

Sans nodded. The woman stood up scooping up her son and clutching him close to her chest. He looked over at Grillby. Behind his glasses, Sans saw understanding eyes. He pushed open the door to his home and ushered the woman in. The woman had no more than entered the home when a horde of scampering steps surrounded his home.

“You have a home?”

“Is there a fire?”

“Please! Take my daughter!”

“And my son!”

“Please!”

“My daughter is sick… Please don’t leave her out here!”

Sans’ sockets widened. Monsters were pushing each other, pleading their cases. Every time Sans met the eyes of one of the children, he felt part of him shatter. They all looked broken and helpless. His house was hardly big enough for the three of them, but…

“…”

“Please! Don’t let them die…”

“YES! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL TAKE THE SICK CHILDREN INSIDE!”

One by one, sick and freezing children entered his home. When he peeked inside, his already cramped home was becoming worse with each passing second. When Sans’ home was almost full to the brim with children and some parents, he shook his head.

“i’m sorry… but i can’t help anymore.”

“What about my child?” One monster yelled. “Why are their children more important?!”

“NO ONE IS—”

“Then why won’t you help!?” One man cried, holding his daughter. “We have to help each other.”

“I’m sorry…” Grillby said.

The monster that was holding his daughter looked at the small girl and then held her out. “Then… please just take her. I just need her to be warm. Please.”

Grillby took the little girl who huddled up against the fire monster, teeth audibly chattering. “Be safe.” The monster said. He took a small doll out of his pocket and handed it to the small girl, petting his daughter between her ears. He looked at Grillby, Sans, and Papyrus. “Thank you.”

“Daddy…?” The little girl called, reaching out her small paw for him.

“Daddy loves you Annabelle.” He said and kissed her forehead. “Sleep well.”

When the monster backed into the crowd of monsters that had been unable to enter the home, Grillby and Papyrus walked inside. Sans turned to the group, “…i’m sorry…” He apologized. “we have no more room.” Despite all the children that had been allowed into the home, there were still so many more in the group that had been denied. “try some of the other homes… that’s all i can say.”

“Wait! You can’t—"

A door had never sounded so loud or so final as when he separated himself from the monsters on the outside. He looked at the little girl—Annabelle—that had been entrusted to Grillby. She held onto his vest for dear life, curling into a ball against his chest. Each parent was huddling into a certain corner of the home with their children. He felt like he was in a sardine can with how clumped together they were. Papyrus had given the little boy—Sammy—his bed. His mother was crying, tucking in the still unresponsive boy. The mother’s cries caused some of the previously silent children to start crying.

Sans didn’t know how long he listened to the children crying or the mothers and fathers trying to console him. He was unsure how many times the small children had said “I’m cold” to their guardian. Sitting in a corner with Papyrus, he tried not to think of the families he had exiled into the cold for lack of space. Ebott’s winters were harsh and unforgiving. With the breeze that was roaring outside, he didn’t want to think about how cold it was out there. How he wished to be back in his home with the heat on. The humans probably had their heaters turned on full blast tonight.

Humans.

Frisk.

After all the fighting that Sans and Frisk had done, he never thought that she would stoop to something so low. If she was that mad at him, he would’ve just made sure that he stayed out of her path, so they had to never run into each other again. She didn’t need to exile all the monsters from Ebott City to get rid of him. If it meant that Papyrus would’ve been in their home and that all these families would’ve been in their home, Sans would’ve just left Ebott. There was absolutely no need for this. He laid his head against the wall and exhaled and closed his sockets. This wasn’t the best sleeping position, but after what Frisk had done to them, it’s what he had to deal with in this tightly packed sardine can.

“You did all you could.” Sans had nearly fallen asleep when he heard the voice. He opened his sockets and looked towards the voice.

Grillby looked just as bad as when they had got inside the home. His friend was leaning against the wall in the now silent home. One hand was resting inside the fireplace to keep the fire in the home, and himself, burning while the other was on Annabelle’s back. The little girl had fallen asleep and was no doubt comfortable against the flame monster’s chest.

“maybe…” Sans whispered back with a sigh. To his right, Papyrus had fallen asleep. He reached over and tugged the one raggedy comforter he had brought with him over his brother. “it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“It never will.”

“now what do we do?” Sans asked, looking up at the ceiling and listening to the harsh wind outside. They must all be so cold…

“Take it one day at a time.” Grillby answered. “That’s all we can do. Tomorrow… the emotions will have died down a little. Then we can think of a plan on how to live.”

“you mean survive?”

“At first. But then live. Then thrive.”

Sans chuckled bitterly. They were fighting just to live. The thought of them thriving in this… this… this death sentence was laughable. They hadn’t just been exiled. They had been thrown away, left to die and rot out of the sight and mind of humans. He couldn’t even see them surviving until next week let alone thriving here. He didn’t want to tell Grillby that, though. His friend was most likely thinking the same thing. If one of them had enough in them to stay positive, the other would have to give just as much. He was so drained… he was having a hard time keeping his sockets open. Grillby was silent for a long time and soft snores indicated that his friend had fallen asleep. His sockets closed, unable to deny his body the slumber it craved.

Faint yelling stirred Sans. Everyone was sleeping other than Grillby. He still held Annabelle cradled to his chest but had stood up and was looking out the window. Sans grunted, feeling his spine pop when he stood up, tucking Papyrus in with what bit of the comforter he had used last night. He stepped over legs, fins, and wings to get to the window.

“The humans are building something.” Grillby murmured, not turning to look at Sans.

“building?” Sans echoed, still groggy from his less than peaceful sleep.

“Yeah, you know, the opposite of destruction?”

Sans chuckled and shook his head, “i didn’t think they had the capability for that.”

It was only then that Grillby turned to him, “Sans—”

A loud, jarring sound shook the ground waking everyone in the house all at once. The younger children started crying and clinging onto the parents. The devastation surfacing in their parents’ eyes when they realized that this hadn’t in fact been a dream. This was the new reality given to them by the very person who had given them their hope.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Papyrus asked, now awake and standing fully alert by his side.

Sans said nothing and went to the door and opened it, walking outside. Some of the monsters had woken up from the sound that had shaken the earth beneath their feet while others remained sleeping near the fire. Some others left the house and stood around to take in the view.

At the front, humans dressed in the black commando outfits that had delivered them to their new… “home” stood by some others in yellow hardhats and ugly neon green safety vests. A large piece of metal with various grooves etched in it had been slammed into a hole that had most likely been placed there the previous night while they all slept. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What the hell is this?” Grillby murmured, twisting and turning his head to get a better view. Sans shrugged and moved towards the crowd and through to get a better look. Another of those metal poles was being released into another hole. So far, there was a total of four.

“What is that?”

“What are they going to do with us?”

“Is it going to hurt us?”

Sans ignored the chattering and gave a sour laugh when metal stripes and wire were connected between two of the metal poles. Instantly, he understood what this was. This wasn’t a home anymore—if it was even one in the first place. This was a prison. Most likely a prison where they would all of them would perish. Where the next generations would come to perish until the ground beneath them were nothing but bones of monsters from generations to come. This is the place where they’d go extinct.

“Is… that what I think it is?” Grillby asked, rubbing Annabelle’s back.

“yeah.” Sans said, “a fence.��

“Listen up!” One of the humans yelled into a megaphone. His croaky voice only heightened from the crackling in the megaphone. “This here gon’ keep all you cretins in line. This here be an anti-magic fence! None of y’all are gon’ be able to use them damned tricks of get outta here. And don’t even get it in ya fucked up heads that ya can break it. Ya touch it, and you’re dead. Either we’ll shoot ya or the fence will shock ya so much you’ll wish we killed ya.”

Sans’ sockets widened. It was a wider version of what the cell doors at the jail were made up of. That would explain why it shocked him. It responds to magic. If his deduction was correct, then that would mean that those bars and their anti-magic properties were the source of his depletion of magic. Funny that those humans had thought of something so terrible and just… evil if they hadn’t been planning on using it from the beginning.

“And if’n ya cross this line up here.” The 20 packs of cigarettes a day human pointed to a yellow pole. “Before the project is finished, you’ll be punished. Got it?”

The monsters that were close to the pole quickly moved away and ran to another part of the slum. Sans looked around. The fires were still weakly burning. All attention was on the fence being steadily built. He couldn’t help but find it funny. Countless times, complaints had been filed throughout the city about potholes in the road and it took months to get a small hole fixed, but he bet this large fence would be completely surrounding them by the end of the day.

“Daddy…?” Sans turned and saw that Annabelle had woken up and was blinking her big amber eyes at Grillby. “Where’s my daddy?”

Sans looked around and saw her father resting at the entrance of one of the alleyways by the house. Seeing Grillby look around, Sans jerked his thumb at the monster. Grillby sat the little feline monster down and watched her trot the small space over to where her father was.

“Morning Daddy!” Annabelle called. “Time to wake up!” The innocent smile that was on her face faded when her father didn’t move or make any notion that he had heard her. “…Daddy?” She called again, shaking him.

“Oh no…” Grillby murmured.

“Daddy, why won’t you wake up?”

Papyrus looked at Annabelle. The worry on her face was increasing with every unanswered call. Sans furrowed his brow bones and closed his sockets. He had read about this. Usually, when monsters died, they turned to dust. However, when a monster… froze to death, their soul was still preserved as it hadn’t been pierced or the body hadn’t received any external wounds, their body was preserved as well. Like a human’s corpse.

“Daddy? Wake up! Wake up Daddy!”

With the little feline girl’s traumatic cries, he thought it would’ve been more merciful had her father just turned to dust. Seeing a dead monster’s body wasn’t a common thing and each monster who observed the sight instantly tried to wake any sleeping monster by them. Some of them woke up, more of them did not.

Grillby went over to Annabelle and picked her up, taking her from the scene. She screamed, and Sans tried to drown out the sound it pierced right through him, right through all of them. Even though she fought and even though she was young, she clearly understood death. Perhaps her mother had died sometime prior. She stopped fighting and could only watch when she turned into Grillby’s chest and cry each tear that touched his body being released as smoke which soon evaporated in the cool air. Yet, he didn’t stop her from mourning even though every drop of her tears hurt him. There was a reason Grillby said that he never touched water.

Sans hadn’t thought that they would need to dedicate a spot in this community to a graveyard so soon. No graveyard should have this many bodies in it as soon as it opens. Unable to find a shovel, Sans volunteered to make the grave for Annabelle’s father, with her permission. Grillby was holding the crying girl while Papyrus was trying to find something to use for a headstone. Sans brushed some snow from the ground and dug his phalanges into the dirt, digging into it. The other monsters that had offered to make graves for the deceased, nameless or otherwise, followed his example while others were canvasing for anyone else that may not have survived the frozen night. With each clump of dirt that Sans pulled from the hole, he wondered if one day he would be buried like this; here. Would he have to bury his friends here like this if they hadn’t survived the night? What if… one day he had to do this for Papyrus? His nonexistent stomach lurched at the thought of having to lay his only family down into the crudely made grave.

He stood up and rubbed his dirty hands on his shorts. The taller and more well-built monsters, like Aaron, took the frozen bodies to the graves and placed them in a hole while Sans assisted in covering the bodies up. When the snow started to melt, and the soil followed in turn, the bodies would most likely turn to dust. He was thankful that Annabelle wouldn’t have to see that. While the little girl was strong, he didn’t think of any child, or even adult, that could be sane after seeing that.

Winter was quite possibly the worst time for this to have happened. Food would be scarce, and he was finding it hard to believe that the humans would help them out like that. While monsters could survive without food for a longer period of time than humans could, when the descent started, it would quickly escalate. As if one of the monsters was reading his mind, they spoke,

“What are we going to do about food?”

“You’re right… We have to start thinking ahead now.”

Sans listened to the monsters throw out ideas. All stupid ones. Try and sneak out. Try and beg for food. They’d either die from the fence or a gunshot. Begging for food? It would probably just get them the same results. No. They’d have to think of something else.

“THAT’S A VERY STUPID IDEA! YOU WILL GET HARMED. DIDN’T YOU HEAR THAT SPEECH? IS YOUR HEARING BAD?”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“OH! SO, IT IS!” Papyrus said and smiled brightly. “OKAY! I’LL TELL YOU, HE—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“BUT IF I DO THAT, HOW WILL YOU—” Papyrus was cut off by a monster punching Papyrus, knocking him against one of the buildings.

Sans’ sockets darkened, and he grabbed onto the arm of the monster and threw him to the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slammed his foot onto the chest of the large dog monster earning a pained grunt from it. The commotion produced a large circle to form around the confrontation.

“Get your foot off me!” The monster yelled, trying to pry his foot off, but Sans only pushed harder shoving his hands into his pockets like it was no big deal.

“you like preying on the weak?” Sans asked, shoving harder. If he had this much power over this monster, he must have a high level of violence. Grillby must’ve noticed as well as he pulled out to get Annabelle out of there. The little girl didn’t need to see what would happen if this went south. Sans raised a brow bone when the monster grunted in pain.

“SANS, THAT’S PROBABLY HURTING HIM.” Papyrus said, rubbing his jaw.

“H-Hey get off me…” The monster grunted, again trying to pry Sans’ foot off him. “L-Look I’m sorry…”

“WELL HE APOLGOIZED. HE LEARNED HIS LESSON.” The innocent smile of his brother had returned. Since there were no marks on Papyrus, Sans slowly lifted his foot taunting the monster with the slow promise of returning the deprived oxygen.

“G e t   o u t   o f   m y   s i g h t.” Sans ordered when he took his foot fully off his chest. “N o w.”

The monster scampered to his feet and ran as far in the opposite direction as he could away from Sans until he was out of sight. The white pinpricks returned, and he looked at his brother. Some of the surrounding monsters stared in awe as others stared in terror. He smiled at both and examined Papyrus’ skull. Just as he thought, no marks or chips.

“well, ya always seem to get in all sorts of trouble, don’t ya?”

“OF COURSE! I AM THE GREAT AND MAGNIFICANT PAPYRUS!”

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to the group of where that monster had belonged to in the first place. “it is a stupid idea, but, do what you want.” He said and left, heading back to find Grillby with Papyrus at his side. It didn’t matter where or who it was, if his brother was threatened, he’d raise his own level of violence to save him. Even if it had to be the highest of anyone, he would do it without a second thought.

There were monsters trying to forage some berries and others were finding more wood for the fires dotting the central part of the slums. If they wanted to survive, they’d have to work as a cohesive unit. Since they were all in the same boat, maybe they’d be able to do that. They were living, breathing beings as well. Each with different opinions of people, so the notion of a utopia where each monster fully accepted the other and helped without desiring anything in exchange was pure idealism. First thing was first, he’d have to find Grillby and Annabelle. From then, each of them could sit together and come up with a game plan.

“I’m telling you I do have the document!” A muffled voice caught his attention. “If you’d shut up for a fucking minute, you’d have heard that!”

Sans found Grillby and Annabelle outside the home, staring at the guards at the front. They were in a heated argument with a young woman who was waving some papers in her hand. He raised a brow bone and shielding his sockets from the bright sun he saw a young woman standing there. She was arguing with the man, but she slammed the papers into the man’s chest. Before he could grab them, she let go and they fell to the ground. When she turned, he was able to vaguely see that she had brown hair.

“Sans!” The young woman called and ran passed the guards and headed further into the slums.

Frisk.

[they-say-you-go-blind]

For the prompt thing could you do 20, 85, or 108 for spring awakening? Preferably hernst but whatever...

Oh, That Kind of Dream

In Order of Use: 108. “I just want this.” 85. “I could never leave you, I love you too much!”20. “Could you be happy here with me?”

A/N: I found a good way to use all three! Thanks for the Prompt!

Ernst was in his room, doing schoolwork, when Hanschen Rilow strode in. He walked over to the blushing boy, and kissed him.

Ernst was in shock. “W-what was that?”

Hanschen smirked as he replied. “A kiss. What do you think it was?”

“This can’t be happening!” Ernst spoke, shocked.  

“It is, I love you Ernst!” Hanschen kissed him again. Ernst smiled into the kiss, standing up to meet the blonde full on..

“You have a boyfriend!” Ernst pushed Hanschen away, but the boy persisted.

“I just want this.” Hans made a move for Ernst waist, leading him from his work desk and pressing him into the bed.

“Please! I don’t want Gabor mad at me!” Ernst tried to get out of his grasp, laughing when Hans tickled his sides. .

“It’s not your fault if he gets mad. I want you. Come on, Ernst.”

“Oh, okay,” he blushed, “if you want it.”

“Oh, I do.” Hans started to kiss him again with renewed passion and flair.

~

Ernst jolted awake, sitting up in his bed and looking around. He reached for his phone. The illuminated screen read 2:14 am. The light was still on in his room, his school computer was still charging in the corner, and not a soul had tried to wake him. When he was sure it was just a dream, he fell back onto the pillows in relief. ‘Oh my god.’ He thought and gave a slight chuckle. He wasn’t sure what to do. His dream had been, interesting. He had a vivid memory or what it felt to be pursued by Hanschen Rilow.

He was terrified of thinking about his best friend that way. He was embarrassed, knowing that Hans and Melchior were dating. He didn’t know what to do, so he called the only person he thought he could. “Anna, I think I’m in love.”

Anna had seen her best friend looking at Hanschen, the way that she looked at Martha and the way Moritz looked at Melchior, so she wasn’t surprised when the news finally broke. She just hadn’t expected it to break at 2:30 in the morning.

“What makes you say that?” She tried to be chill, as chill as she could be.

“I had a dream I slept with him.” Though it wasn’t false, Ernst regretted his word choice immediately.

“Ernst! He’s dating Melchior!” Anna scolded through the phone, she had always thought Ernst to be so pure.

“I know! I know!” Ernst tried to defend himself.“Well you’ve gotta tell him.” Anna suggested. She knew full well he would shoot it down. She wasn’t about to give up, though. She’d bring up up some other time that wasn’t this early. “No way! I just needed to get this off my chest.” Ernst shook his head, and wished Anna goodnight.

The next day, Ernst couldn’t even look at Hanschen. He was mortified all of Latin class, the two being left as partners to conjugate verbs. Hanschen suspected something had happened to make Ernst appear so flustered, but felt as though he wasn’t the cause of the other boys discomfort.

A little less than 2 weeks had gone by, and he had almost calmed down. Things were back to normal. Melchior and Hanschen still snuck away together whenever they could, Martha and Thea always held hands going down the hallway, and Moritz, Anna, and Ernst had returned to their respective ‘sad single kids’ club. Hanschen, however clam his exterior had been, was certain Ernst was still not okay. He decided to confront him during band, but Ernst had made some excuse to go to the restroom. Hanschen didn’t understand why his best friend was acting so strange.

~~

They were at some crowded house party. The music was loud. Some people were drinking, others were dancing, but Ernst was only focused on the boy who had just approached him.

“Ernst, baby. Please come to a spare room with me.” Ernst chuckled a little bit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Hanschen grabbed onto his shoulders for stability.

“Hans, you’re wasted.”  Ernst took his hands away, but the other boy wrapped them around his waist.

“Jesus, learn to live a little.” Hans pulled Ernst close, kissing his neck.“I- I am not losing -my virginity in a drunken hookup.” Ernst stuttered, as he never would’ve expected Hanschen to do that. He brought the boy up to his lips. Ernst wasn’t sure how long had passed when Hanschen pulled away.

“So, shall we?” Hanschen whispered into Ernst’s ear.

“No.” Ernst shoved Hanschen away, and continued.

“I want it to be with someone I love. You’d never even stay the next morning.”

“Yes I would!” Hanschen took offense to the comment.

“You’d leave right after you orgasamed. I know you too well.”

“I could never leave you, I love you too much!”

~~

Ernst jolted awake. ‘Oh no. Not again.’ While the dream didn’t finish, he still felt dirty. Ernst had reverted back into his shame. He wanted to get out.

“I’m so embarrassed.” He sat down across from Anna, before anyone else had gotten to the table. It was lunchtime and he hadn’t seen her all day, except for when she was talking in a big group. More specifically, a big group with Hanschen

“What’s wrong?” She spoke. Ernst shot her a look. She then understood Ernst’s distress.

“Have another dream?” She teased.

“Shut up, Wheelan.” He playfully pleaded with her as she continued.“Oh God, mmm. Oh, Hanschen!” She moaned, mimicking what she thought Ernsts’ dream entailed.

He turned a brighter shade of red, looking around to see if anyone had heard. No one had, but as he turned around he saw someone so gorgeous. Hanschen came out of the lunch line, and started walking over to their table.

“Knock it off. You say nothing.” Ernst turned to her, speaking in hushed yet serious tones. She nodded in understanding. For as much as she teased Ernst, they were still close friends. She wanted the best for him.

“Hey guys!” Hanschen spoke, putting a hand on Ernst’s shoulder. “Hi, Hanschen.” Anna said. Ernst, on the other hand, was bright red.

“Ernst?” Hanschen asked. “Hello? Earth to Robel?”

Anna hit the table, bringing Ernst back to reality.

“There.” She said, giving Hanschen a nod but then getting distracted herself by the girls at the other end of the table.

“Ernst, do you wanna go eat outside? Get some fresh air.” Hanschen spoke. The other boy nodded excitedly. As they walked out to an old tree, Ernst’s brain started to race. A million different questions that the other boy could ask, and billions of different ways he could respond. He decided to take the looming power away from Hanschen, and make his own first move.

They sat down under the tree. It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. It was perfect. Ernst felt guilty for, at least in his mind, ruining this perfect day because he couldn’t control his crush on the boy who was sitting close. .

“Hansi?” Ernst choked out. The other boy turned to face him, which would make Ernst’s proceedings ten times harder. Hanschen made a “Hm?” sound as a sign for Ernst to continue.

“I’ve been- I’ve been having dreams about you.” He spit out.

“Oh.” Hanschen made no move of approval or disgust. Ernst wasn’t sure how to feel. It was better than Hanschen leaving him alone under the tree, but he still felt off. It was the indifference that Hanschen displayed that made Ernst so upset. A few moments passed until Hanschen spoke up again.

“What kind?” Ernst contemplated his response, but knew that lying would get him nowhere.

“Dreams that- dreams that we were kissing.” A moment passed, for Hanschen needed to process it. Ernst started to backpedal. “I’m sorry! You probably don’t even like me- and I just needed to tell you.” “That’s why you’ve been acting so weird?” Hanschen half questioned the other.

“Yeah.” Ernst sat motionless against the tree until Hanschen kissed his cheek. It was quick, but sweet. “How are you feeling now?” He asked Ernst as he pulled away, hoping that his would affirm Ernst’s thoughts.“Better, yeah.” Ernst nodded, not sure how to continue.

“I know your dreams were one thing, but could you be happy here with me?” Hanschen spoke, taking Ernst’s hand, trying to make sure that he knew how he felt.

“Yes, of course!” Ernst gave his hand a squeeze, and shared a smile. However, he pulled away. “But, what about Melchior?”

“You know Melchior and I aren’t going out, right?” Hanschen spoke like it was common knowledge.

“Oh, did you- did you two break up?” Ernst was scared that he was pressuring Hanschen to move on too fast, but the other boy gave a chuckle at the question.

“We never dated!”

“You didn’t?” Ernst was shocked at the news. Everyone of his friends had thought them dating.

“Fucking isn’t dating, Ernst.”

“But.. but you held hands in the hallway.” He spoke, trying to get the truth out of Hanschen. There was no way Hanschen didn’t have feeling for Melchior. Not to say that Ernst, wasn’t overjoyed. He was.

“Yeah. But what me and him had wasn’t exclusive. It never was.” Hanschen started to sob a bit, inwardly of course. He had only thought of Ernst like this once before, sure. But Ernst was clearly shaken up over this.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Ernst sighed. All this time, he could’ve been with him.

“I thought you knew!” He tried to defend himself, hoping that this would breech Ernst’s trust.

“Well, I didn’t!” Ernst wasn’t mad or upset, he just wish that there had been a glowing neon sign over hanschen’s head that said ‘Not Taken.’“If it makes a difference, we’ve stopped.” Ernst’s eye widened at the knowledge. “Turns out, Moritz finally asked him out.” Ernst was wondering why Moritz hadn’t told him yet.

“So that means you’re available now?” Ernst asked after a brief silence.

“I guess it does.” Hanschen gave a smug grin, making eye contact with Ernst.

“Do you wanna..” Hanschen started to ask for a kiss, but Ernst was already there. He had no real frame of reference, but Ernst was certain it was far better than his dreams could ever conjure.

[mimis-mm]

Hi!! Good luck with your blog, it's always nice to see new headcanon blogs! So I guess I'll start with a bit of angst haha. How do you think the rfa + the minor trio (if you write for them of course) would react if they found out that the MC was really depressed in the past and attempted to kill herself?

Thank you so much!! What a joyfull first ask you got there lmao 

I didn’t know if I should do it in a scenario-like style with how they learned about it or just do how they would react, so I did the scenario style. Also I learned that I’m a slow writer, so this post will only be the RFA (minor V). The minor trio is coming, promised!

Edit: Minor trio part is out, go right here x

Warning: Suicide mention

The RFA learning that the MC has been depressed and attempted suicide in the past

Yoosung

You were having your family at your place and Yoosung was there too. It was quite nice time discussing about various things until the subject was about general health.

Since you told your parents about Rika’s death they felt the need to say something about this.

“We’re really sorry about your cousin, Yoosung. We can imagine how this must feel like to lose someone to suicide.” Started one of them.

“You probably know by now that [Y/N] went through the same thing of your cousin.” Finished the other.

Big silence

He was looking at you with big eyes and a shocked expression. Your parents soon understood they Fucked Up™ and excused themselves, but Yoosung stopped them.

“No, no. [Y/N] and I need to talk, so we’ll be the ones to go elsewhere.”

He made you a soft smile and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You were still a little unsure what to think do so you just followed him in your room.

There, he closed the door and lead you to the bed. He sat on it and told you to do the same, which you did.

“Why didn’t you tell me about his, [Y/N]?” his voice was soft but a little shaky. 

It wasn’t like him to be calm, especially about something this big.

You told your reason and he listen without interrupting you and nodded from time to time.

He would squeeze you hand quite a lot bit when you start crying. When you finished he hugged you tightly and rubbed your back.

Also, the boy was crying too. what a cinnamon roll

He remembered all the time you listened to him talking about Rika late at night and how you always seemed to understand his feelings despite how badly he could word it sometimes. He understood why you never tried to rush him to get over Rika’s suicide.

It was all because you’ve been there.

But most importantly, he hated himself for not realizing that he might have hurt you because he was too centered on his own feelings.

“I’m so sorry for everything, sweetie” he whispered. 

You hugged him back and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s ok, Yoosung, really. You couldn’t know, and it happened way before I even joined the RFA.” 

Still, it was a shock for him to learn that his lover has tried to end her life, even if it was way before you met.

You clung to each other for a few minutes, treasuring the moment.  

You both went back in the dining room hand in hand with puffy eyes from crying. Your parents apologized again, but you reassured them that everything was sorted out.

You kissed his left cheek, right under a scar left from the wound he had from a few months ago. “We have each other, now. Right?”

His face turned red and he smiled at you with loving eyes. “Right.”

Jaehee

You were having a break at the cafe, was reading the newspaper and an article caught your attention. It was about a man who ended his life, and while you were reading, you realized what drove him to suicide was similar to your struggle in the past.

You were engrossed in the story and didn’t heard Jaehee call your name until she patted on your shoulder, startling you.

“[Y/N], can you help me with a command please?” 

“Oh, hum, yes I’m coming.” You got up and followed her. 

She quickly noticed how you seemed to space out more than usually but didn’t mind it that much, supposing you were probably just concentrated on something else.

After that, she picked up the newspaper you left on the table and got curious about it. She didn’t jump on conclusion right away, but she still made a note in the back of her mind that you were spacey after reading the article.

Such a Mom™

The more the day went by, the more she noticed how you weren’t your usual self, especially you making a lot of mistakes.

So, at home in the evening, she called you in the living room. When you arrived, two cups of herbal tea and a blanket were waiting. You cuddled up to her, wrapping both of you in the cozy blanket.

“Is there a new musical Zen was in?” you smelled your cup of herbal tea. Mmh, this one was perfect after a rough day at the café.

She shook her head and took out the article of her pocket.

Oh, you knew what was coming.  

“I was a little worried. You were acting off after your break and I this was what I found.” she was slightly agitated, but her concerned eyes were locked with yours. “Is there a specific reason, like you knowing that man or anything happened to you with the subject of… you know, suicide, or I am making false assumptions?” 

You took a deep breath and proceeded to tell her everything. From what made you hit rock bottom to how you recovered after the last attempt. You also told her that sometimes hearing situations about people who killed themselves was still a little heavy for you.

Jaehee placed an arm around your shoulder and pecked your cheek, pulling you closer.

“You’re so strong, love. Having to put up with the whole group talking about Rika must have been hard, wasn’t it?” 

A tear rolled down of your eye and you were only able to make a whimper in response. She embraced you and caressed your hair, soothing you slowly.

“So, want to lighten the mood with a movie or something?”

She chuckled and laid her head on yours. “How about we cuddle that sadness to death?”

You nuzzled against her neck and whispered a faint “sounds good”

You spent the evening cuddling and drinking the herbal tea together. You eventually fell asleep on her, but it didn’t take much time for her to follow you.

Zen / Hyun

You were both sitting on the sofa, him reading the script of an upcoming movie, and you on your phone in the chatroom. You knew the movie he was in was a romantic drama, but nothing more, since he only got the role during the day. However, you were too curious not to know.

“Can I read it, Zenny?” you asked, poking him with your foot. 

“I can’t let you, babe, sorry. But I can tell you what the story’s about” he gave you a playful wink. “But you didn’t hear it from me, alright?” 

Now he was talking

You smiled, closed the app and crawled up to him, cuddling comfortably against his chest. He kissed your head and played with your hair while narrating the big picture of the movie.

But boy, he didn’t see your expression darkens. It was one of those sappy movies with Depressed Girl meeting Popular Handsome Boy and with his help and love, her depression was cured.

The worst was that not only did Zen approved of the concept, but he also called it romantic. You felt sick.

You quickly stood up, spitting a disgusted “ugh” then went right to the bedroom. Zen only looked at you with a dumbfounded expression, not even knowing what made you irritated. He tried to follow you but the door was closed before he could enter.  

He gently knocked.

“Babe? Princess? What’s wrong?”

You paced in the room, your whole body tensed up “I-… Just… please leave me alone for now.” The sound of footsteps came to you, and a heavy sigh left your mouth.

You knew you shouldn’t be lashing out on him. After all, he was simply uninformed on the subject. Knowing him, it was obvious that he would’ve stand 10 miles away from the role if he was aware of how unhealthy the whole thing was. However, you couldn’t just ignore nor tame the rage you felt.

It took you about ten minutes to calm down, so you made your way back to the living room. A faint recognizable smell was in the air, and it made you heart clench. Was he really…

Zen was cooking on the stove, humming slowly, his back facing you.

“Are you preparing my favourite dish?”

He jumped and looked over his shoulder, gazing at you with surprised red eyes. “I… I don’t know what I did to upset you, honey. But I want to apologize so… you know.” He scratched the back of his head.

“No, Zen. I should be the one apologizing.” You looked away. “You weren’t aware that it’s something I’m sensitive about.”

He gave you a questioned look, so you decided to continue.

“I need to take it off my chest, Hyun. Can we sit for a moment, please?”

You didn’t need to ask a second time, since he quickly stopped the fire of the stove. You sat at the table, while he took the seat on front of you.  

You explained your point of view on the movie plot, and before he could say anything you quickly said it. “I was once that girl, Zen. I- she was alone, even if people tried to help. She tried to end everything but it didn’t work out.” Your vision became blurry. “It was so horrible, you have no idea.”

You were shaking and sobbing, but something felt lighter. However, Zen got up and went away.  

“Z-Zen? What ar-are you doing?” the hiccups made it harder to talk.

Your eyes followed him through the living room. He picked up the script and gave you a gentle smile. “Want to go on the rooftop, Superwoman?”

Well, that nickname was new.

You followed him, taking his warm hand in yours. It was dark outside, with only the buildings’ and moon’s light to illuminate the surroundings.  

Zen took a lighter out of his pocket and handed it along with the script to you. “Enjoy yourself, babe.”

You took them but gave him a suspicious look. “Don’t worry, I’m not accepting any role that gives a bad example, and l stay 10 miles away from those that make my girlfriend mad.”

You smiled and lighted up the corner of the papers, enjoying the sight. Zen hugged you from behind and looked at the flames dancing.

“By the way, why did you called me Superwoman?”

He chuckled and gave you a peck on the head. “You went through hell and could have mind your own business like a normal person would. Yet, you’re trying to save the whole damn RFA. Only a hero would do that.”

You rolled your eyes at how cheesy he was. 

Jumin

Jumin has been invited to a charity event held by the community organizations of the city, and unlike most of the time, you were quite interested by the cause. They were raising funds to help organisms with the problematic of suicide.

He was amused by how you were more at ease with the social workers present than with the guests. Usually, you were following him, never leaving his side and rarely talked. But right now, you were almost dragging him to learn about each and every organization.

Sometimes, he was even taken aback by your knowledge on the matter.

You were currently talking with a woman working in an organization helping teenagers. After some time, he leaned on to your ear and whispered “Just saw an associate. It won’t be long.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips and he smiled at you as he left in a sort of hurry.

Oh, did Mr. Han felt like a third wheel by any chance?

He still had an eye on you while discussing business. Because you know, it’s Jumin Han. Your back was turned as you were facing the woman.  

Her expression darken with a concerned look. He saw her speak, then a gentle smile appeared on her lips and she placed a hand on your shoulder. Jumin was soon asked to introduce you to his associate, since he heard you were an interesting woman.

He came to pick you and gave his arm. You both made your way to the man who seemed to be in the late fifty with some grey hair on the side of his head. The introductions went smoothly, then Jumin and him talked about the charity event.  

However, it quickly went south. The businessman strongly believed that people with mental illnesses shouldn’t be tolerated in work places, since they could be dangerous and can’t be at their full potential for the company.  

You and Jumin glanced at each other. His expression said to stay calm, but the stiffness in his jaw said murder otherwise.

He tried to talk him out subtly, but the man didn’t want to hear reason.  

“Why did you come to this event, then, sir?” You tried not to sound too harsh.

“It seems to be the trend for companies to adopt some sort of forward thinking policies only to avoid controversies. Also, attending events like this is a good publicity.” You clenched your fist. “To be honest, people who commit suicide are only cowards. They run from their problems instead of solving them.“  

You were burning with rage. How could someone who’s responsible of thousands of people’s wealth could be this ignorant? The lack of reaction from your fiancé only made you even more mad, to the point that you had to excuse yourself from the conversation.

You rushed out of the hall, looking at the floor and avoiding eye contacts with others. Once you found a calm hallway, you sat on a bench and took off those damned high heels. Jumin was clearly annoyed by his insolence, so why didn’t he say anything?  

You rubbed your face, smearing your makeup in the process. Shit. You wanted to punch something, but you also knew it wasn’t the best place to do anything funny.  

The sound of steps and your name being called echoed in the corridor. You sighed when you saw the figure of Jumin coming your way.

”[Y/N], what are you-“ he saw your face and stopped. "What’s wrong, doll?"  

He kneeled before you and took your hands in his. You felt a tingling sensation at your eyes as your vision became blurry. God, you hated when that happened. You looked at your linked hands and bit your bottom lip in an attempt to stop your chin from trembling.  

"Are you sad?” You shook your head slightly. “Angry?” You nod. “Is this because of what he said?” You nod again, more vigorously this time.

There was a moment of silence, then he put a hand on your cheek, making you look at him. He looked calm, as usual. But seeing you in this state was hard.

“You tried to commit suicide in the past, didn’t you?"  

Your eyes widen and your muscles tensed up, which made him understand that he was right. He wanted to know everything that happened to you, but he also knew you weren’t in the state to talk about it, nor was it the place to.

"H-how… Did you k-know?” You asked, hiccupping at the same time.

He smiled sweetly and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I also have subjects that make me lose control.” His eyes looked sad. “I won’t force you to tell me everything now, love.”

You sighed and leaned on his hand, feeling way calmer than before. “Thanks.”

“Want to go back home?”

“Won’t you be missed, though?”

He got up, took you shoes and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m not needed here more than anyone else. They won’t miss us.” Well, that was a lie but you didn’t need to know that. All he wanted for now was to ease your pain.

You accepted and he gave your heels back before calling driver Kim. You both made your way outside and got into the car.  Once seated, Jumin wrapped his arm around your waist and dialed a number on his phone. You furrowed your brows at him.  

He only gave you a smirk accompanied with a wink.

What were you planning, Jumin Han?

“Hello, Seven? I need your help with something.”

“ Jumin, no!” You tried to take the cell phone, but he held you in place effortlessly.  

“Junseo Tokko. Give any incriminating information you find about him to the press.” Then he hung up.

You pouted at him, but deep down you were happy that this man would reap what he sowed. Jumin chuckled and pecked your head.

No one messed with his fiancée and got out of it unhurt.

Seven / Saeyoung

He knew you had an history with depression and has been in the hospital in the background check. If you saw a therapist or a psychologist in the past would also be written, but no details would be available for him to hack. So he assumed you tried to kill yourself, but never thought it would be a good idea to bring that up.

If you made jokes or innuendos about it in the chatroom, he would be the first to scold you about it. After all, this asshole wouldn’t mind being killed, so he just knows the feeling.

But one night, while you were still stuck in the apartment, Seven was again making overtime. At one point, his eyes were burning, so he decided to take a pause and check on you, just to be sure you were ok.

When he didn’t see you asleep, he felt his heart making a whole flip in his chest. Oh God, did the hacker kidnapped you while he was busy?  

He quickly went through the other cameras, and calmed down when he saw you in the kitchen. Good, he won’t have to call Vanderwood for backup.  

You were cooking something in the microwave. It made him chuckle. How cute, you were having a sneaky midnight snack at 2 am.

Your phone vibrated and you checked on it, seeing a text from Saeyoung.  

“Can’t sleep? (~￣▽￣)~”

You looked around, trying to spot the security camera. It was in a corner just above a cabinet, so it took some time to find it. You waved at it, making a silly face at the same time.

His heart melt. He couldn’t help gushing over your cuteness and found himself calling you. You answered right away with a chuckle.

“I thought you were supposed to be working, agent 707? “ you said in a teasing tone. He made a high pitched whimper and sank into his chair.

“You sound like someone I know.” He whined.

The microwave rang and you hurried to take your food out. Mmh, ramens are always a to go during the night. You sat down to eat and switched you phone on speaker to be able to talk with Saeyoung.

The more you spoke together, the less both of your guards were up, leading the subject of your conversation to a more personal tone.

“Say, can I ask you something?” You voice was hesitant.

“Hum yeah, shoot.”

“You always make jokes that are quite self-hatred. So, I was kinda worried that maybe you were suicidal.” Wow, that was direct.

He tried to avoid answering with a joke, but your silence made him understand that you were dead serious. He grunted and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

“No, I’m not. It’s just… complicated. I…” he tried to find the words.

“- wouldn’t mind having a car rolling over you?”

“Yeah, exactly.” He was relieved that you were able to understand what he was trying to say. There was a silence, which was broken by him. “My turn to ask you something.”

“Sure, why not?” You finished eating and rinsed your dishes, then went back to your room and laid down on the bed.

He switched the camera. “In your files, it’s written that you spent some time in the hospital and had a history with depression.” You fucking knew it. “Did you try to…” The last two words were stuck in his throat.

You sighed heavily and ran your hand through your hair. “Did you really need to look that up?”

“Sorry, background check. Just made sure you would be able to support the organization.”

“I understand. But yeah, I did try.” You wrapped yourself in the blanket and closed your eyes. “Want to know more?”

“You… don’t mind talking about it?”

“If it’s you, no.” It took him some time to process the information. Did you really trust him that much? Or was it the lack of sleep?

You spent the next minutes telling him what you lived and how you were able to over come your depression. He listen the whole time and tried to comfort you when you began to be emotional, but he wasn’t the best at it. His clumsiness made you laugh a bit and it eased your mind.

However, your eyes were closing themselves after some time and you weren’t able to follow the conversation with Seven. He called your name and you answered with a sleepy moan.  

“If you need to sleep, just do it.” He was now whispering.

You scoffed at him, saying that you wanted to talk more with him. Ugh, you really needed to stop being so cute.

With that being said, you were out the next minute. Saeyoung felt his heart melt at the sight of your dormant form in the blanket and he chuckled softly.

“I wish I was strong like you, [Y/N].” then he hung up

[my-dear-hammy]

Falling Through Time: Book 1

Masterpost

Jamilton Series Masterpost

Basking in Candlelight

Part Two:

Deux

----

Warnings: Little bit of blood. Nothing extreme.

----

Jefferson, in Hamilton's opinion, was an insufferable prick. Did Washington have to choose him to be Secretary of State? Couldn't he have just left Jefferson in France? Jefferson was comfortable there, Hamilton was comfortable having never met him. God, why did he have to be the one to put up with him? Everything he does screws up what Hamilton was trying so hard to accomplish. If Jefferson had been in America to partake in the Constitution Convention, who knows what would have happened? Each state being practically their own country? Hardly any central government to tie the states together into a Union? A government so weak it would've fallen apart and the states into squabbling children fighting over every little thing?

Hamilton's quill scratched furiously against the parchment, words flowing effortlessly onto the page. Estimates, plans, figures, debts, it was all there, everything he needed to present to Congress. All he had to do was get it approved and he'd be home free. That is if Jefferson could keep his nose in his own affairs for once. Unlikely.

He straightened the papers proudly. Done. The debt plan was finally complete. Now I'll hand it in, say a few words and be able to move on to the next part.

He sat back with a sigh of contentment, closing his eyes for just a minute of well-deserved rest. That hadn't taken nearly as long as he thought it would. Hamilton expected to have had to pull another all-nighter, tirelessly working away and chugging coffee. Eliza would be happy that he was coming home like a normal person for once. He even had some extra time to kill, it was only, what? Eight? Now would be a good chance to reply to the Marquis de Lafayette's letter and then he could head home with an extra item checked off the list. He usually returned home around midnight and letters took no time at all for him. This would just be real quick.

Sitting forward again, he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, marking the date and glanced up at the clock to see how just how fast he could actually write a letter.

TWO A.M.?! WHAT!?

He was way late, way way late, nowhere near his usual time to get home. The next few seconds where a scramble to grab papers and documents. Maybe too much of one since he accidentally sent them flying all over the room for the second time that day. Cursing loudly, his voice echoing through the empty halls, he stuffed random pieces into his case and spun on his heel to snatch another piece of the floor. Only to have his foot slip sideways, sending him falling fast toward the hardwood desk, with no way to stop.

CRACK

Pain splintered through his skull and Hamilton slid to the floor, the room spinning around him. His office door creaked open as someone entered. The small part of his mind that was still functional was wondering who could be here at two am other than himself and why they in his office?

"Mm-I'm fine," Hamilton mumbled incoherently, trying to wave the person off but only managing to flail awkwardly.

The person sighed, saying a few words that were lost on Hamilton's fuzzy mind just before he fell unconscious.

***

The candlelight illuminated Jefferson's office dimly. His candles were only nubs, he was either going to have to give up for the night or find more candles. He was thinking more candles. It would be easy to find some all he had to do was waltz down to someone else's office and steal a few. My first choice would be Hamilton's, but he would notice. He's one of the few that actually stay into the night. Everyone else is usually gone before six, not wanting to stick around. Even if they did decide to work late, they'd go home and work in their personal offices where their wives could bring them food and care for them. Jefferson much preferred his work office but that meant he used a lot of candles. It'd be easy to steal any of his co-workers' candles but Hamilton's would be more fun, so what if Hamilton noticed? It'd be a great way to piss him off. Perhaps tomorrow though, Jefferson didn't feel like making the trek down to his office.

He inked out another page before the room started to feel noticeably hot and stuffy. Best way to solve it? Jefferson got up and flung open a window. The night air breezed in, brushing against his face and stirring the curtains slightly. He took in a deep breath of the cool air, listening to the silence of the night and the rustling of the breezing shifting his papers. His office had dropped at least ten degrees, much more comfortable now, lifting the dreariness from Jefferson and sending energy buzzing through him, making it easy to return to his work, leaving the window wide open.

Just as Jefferson sat down and dipped his quill into the ink, he heard muffled swearing rebound down the hallways. Great. Hamilton must've found something else he bitterly disagreed with to cuss out. That was normal. His bet was on that Hamilton discovered Clinton was running for office again. That always irritated him. Jefferson set his quill to the parchment and resumed. Then there was a loud crash, followed by silence.

Jefferson was out of his chair instantly.

Sprinting down the hallways, his long legs stretching and pushing himself forward as fast as possible without causing injury, he was at Hamilton's office within seconds, despite the long distance. He cautiously opened the door, wincing slightly at the loud creak, not wanting a book chucked at his head like that one incident that he and Hamilton had sworn never to talk about. Just thinking about it made Jefferson's body go hot.

He peered inside and saw a scene he hadn't expected. Hamilton sprawled out on the ground, a gash in his head seeping blood, a smeared stain of black ink on the ground, and papers scattered everywhere. Just his luck. Frankly, he'd rather have the book. From the looks of it, Hamilton was picking up papers when he slipped on the ink he apparently never finished cleaning up. What an idiot.

"Mm-I'm fine," Hamilton mumbled, slurring his words.

Jefferson sighed and let himself in. "If that's the case, I'll just return to my work. Bleeding heads are never serious after all," Jefferson said as he walked over and crouched down next to Hamilton. "You're obviously not fine, how many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, waving his hand in front of Hamilton's face. No response. His eyes were still open. Knocked out cold.

"Real smooth Hamilton. What are you still doing here?"

Jefferson was fully aware he was pretty much talking to himself at this point.

"What am I supposed to do with you?"

Jefferson could take him back to his place but that would be kinda awkward. Especially when Hamilton woke up and started throwing things. Plus, Eliza was probably worried sick. Jefferson will just have to take Hamilton home and pray Eliza is still awake.

With another sigh, Jefferson made the long trek back to his office to grab a cloth bandage, some string, a needle, and some alcohol. Upon his return, he knelt down and cleaned up Hamilton's wound, stitching it shut, and bandaged it for him.

Jefferson propped him up and tried to wake him before resigning himself to the inevitable. He glanced around the office real quick and made a quick decision. Jefferson stood and started shoving candles in his pockets before Hamilton and his belongings up and carrying him down to the stables.

Dilemma time. All Jefferson had was a single horse. Hamilton didn't come to work in a carriage either. Jefferson could just sling him over the horse, but that would be uncomfortable and he'd probably bruise.

He'll just walk. Hamilton's place wasn't terribly far. Plus, good exercise.

After a nice jaunt, Jefferson knocked on the door, hoping to God Mrs. Hamilton was still awake.

The door flung open. Praise the Lord.

"Oh, my! What happened?" she asked frantically, waving Jefferson in so he could put him down.

"My fault really. My deepest apologies. He was working diligently when I interrupted him. Let's just say there was some ink spilled and I may have thrown something. Don't worry though, Mrs. Hamilton. He'll be perfectly alright."

Eliza fixed Jefferson with an icy glare as he deposited Hamilton on his bed. "Thank you for bringing home and not leaving him to freeze in his office. However, I must politely ask you to stay away from my husband. He has enough to worry about as it is."

"Of course," Jefferson replied, bowing slightly and excusing himself. He headed for the door but paused, "When he wakes up, don't let him go back to sleep for a while, and then only short naps for a day or so." Sleeping for too long with concussions and head injuries risked the person slipping into a coma. Short naps we're best. The longer the rest, the greater the chance.

With that, Jefferson closed the door gently behind him and returned for his horse.

----

[its-negans-lucille]

The Silent One - Part Three

THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD

You can find the other parts of this story and my Masterlist HERE!

Synopsis: You were walking down a dark road when you heard the low rumble of engines behind you. You began running but soon enough there were headlights illuminating you. Ships: Negan x Reader Words: 2,111 Warnings: Curses, Kidnapping, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Vague Mentions of past Suicide

***

You had been walking for three days now. Your water supply was dwindling and you were down to three cans of food. Your stomach rumbling had become a constant companion to you in the three days you had been alone. You hummed a long forgotten tune to yourself as you walked the long, star illuminated road. You wondered subconsciously what would’ve happened if you had stayed. You probably would’ve fallen for a murderer and if you were honest with yourself, you were already half way in love with the man.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the clear night sky. You remembered vaguely when you were young and you would watch the stars with your father. He always would point to a specific star and say that that star was you. That as long as that star stilled burned bright so would you. You couldn’t remember which star your father pointed to so many years ago.

You focused back on the road where a few walkers were lulling about, completely unaware of the complete shit storm they had a created. They didn’t have feelings, they didn’t feel pain or lose. You didn’t believe that there was any part of the person that the walkers had once been left in them. For them, it just ended. Bang, and you’re gone. They leave their loved ones behind in hell, for you did believe that this was hell on earth.

You felt a boiling hot rage take over you as you slowly advanced on the two walkers.

They didn’t have to worry about anyone any more. They were just gone. Just like your mother. Just like your father. Just like every goddamned person you ever cared about. They left you in this festering shit hole to rot.

Before you knew it you had unsheathed your small but lethal knife and had stabbed it swiftly into the first Walker’s frontal lobe. As you pulled out the knife from in-between the walker’s eyes you heard the second, taller walker advance on you from behind. The first walker hit the floor with a dull thud. You turned quickly around to face the second walker, your hair whipping your face as you did. It was close, far to close for comfort.

You raised your free hand and held it to the walkers shoulder. The stench that emanated from the rotting corpse was enough to make you gag. The Walker clamped it’s teeth down on air but continued pushing against you. You tried to get a steady hold on the Walker so you could put an end to it’s miserable afterlife.

The walker pushed you to the floor and you felt it’s hot breath on your shoulder. You pushed with both hands this time as you attempted to roll the Walker off you and onto the floor. To the right side of you, you could glimpse a half trampled walker crawling towards you. You were breathing heavily now as you rolled the rotting Walker below you so that it’s arms were pinned at it’s sides by your knees. You brought your blade down so it hit the middle of the forehead. The Walker ceased moving and went limp.

You rolled onto your side and attempted to get your breath back. Your heart was thundering in your ears, you could hear with startling clarity the blood thrumming through your veins.

Then you heard something. You weren’t precisely sure what it was at first. You sat up and looked at the direction that the odd noise was coming from. Then it clicked.

Engines.

The low rumble of engines was coming from the South of you. Your heart, which had just been resuming it’s normal speed, began to speed up again. The thudding of your blood was deafening.

It couldn’t be. He surely didn’t know you had left? You had only left a few days ago, he wasn’t due back at Alexandria for another four days. You stood up slowly and started backing away from the two walkers.

Then three pairs of headlights illuminated the long straight road. You were immediately blinded by the sudden light and you had to shield your eyes. You were only taken aback for a second though. You began running down the road, running as fast as your legs could carry you. You ignored the pain in your legs that was begging you to stop, to just give in.

You heard the cars gaining on you, and fast. You promptly made a B-Line into the dark and foreboding tree line.

***

“Boss, we’ve got her.” The Walkie Talkie crackled into life as the voice of Simon came through it. Negan instantly sagged with relief. You were there. You were safe. He immediately picked up the corresponding walkie from beside him.

“Where is she?” Negan said quickly, almost frantically.

“She’s running down Route Twenty-Seven.” Simon said. Negan could hear the low rumble of the engine in the background. “Wait, scratch that. She just made a B-Line into the trees. Looks like she could be heading for the old cement factory.” There was a thud under their car as Dwight ran over a walker.

“We’ll meet you there.” Negan said finally. “Also, Simon?” Negan added as Dwight made a U turn.

“Yeah, Boss?” Simon said tentatively.

“If any of your guys hurt a damn hair on her head you will answer to me? You got that? You do not hurt her under any circumstances.” Negan said in a voice that no one would question. He had a finality in his tone that if anyone dared question him they may have a nice, long meeting with Lucille.

“Got it.” Simon said after a few seconds.

Negan was leaning forward in his seat as if that would make the car faster.

***

The large industrial builder that stood before you was very warn. It looked like half of the roof had fallen in from rain constantly battering against it. Thickets of ivy climbed up the weathered wall.

You stood outside the front entrance of the building, trying to build up enough courage to walk inside.

Beside the building there was a car park. There were a fair amount of cars which had been ransacked and there were a few tractors and heavy lifting vehicles. There were five large cylinders which you presumed would’ve once held cement but were now rock solid. There was a small group of walkers milling near the cylinders.

You were giving yourself a silent pep talk as you willed yourself to put one foot in front of the other to hide inside the long abandoned building. as you neared the front door you could hear the grunts and moans of the dead inside. You tried to steady your breathing, you told yourself there was no other way and with each passing second Negan would be approaching.

You slowly raised one hand to the door knob, your hand  visibly shaking. You slowly turned the door knob with a loud squeaking sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You pushed the door and…

And nothing.

It wouldn’t budge. You pushed against it again, throwing all of your weight behind it but it simply did not budge. You could hear the Walkers inside start banging on the other side of the door and you knew that there would be no way of you getting in without a fight. You let out a string of curse words.

Then you heard the low rumble of engines again, the sound of your capture coming closer and closer. You could see the headlights on the treeline before a sharp turn that would lead them to the front of the factory.

You quickly assessed your options. You could run towards the concrete cylinders and probably get mauled by walkers. Or you could run to the car park and try and find a car that had fuel in so you could get the hell out of this nightmare.

You chose the latter choice.

You sprinted toward the car part and sidestepped any Walkers you came across. You dived behind a once vibrant yellow car that was now a dull mustard colour. You poked your head out from behind a tire, you could see five pairs of headlights driving down the road. All of the Walkers were immediately drawn to them.

The Saviours stepped out of their cars and started shooting at the Walker’s. Each and every one of the undead went down within seconds. After a few seconds of men looking around the immediate area with approving looks one man banged on the side of a car.

The star of the show stepped into the moonlight.

Negan’s face was half in shadow as you watched him adjust to the light. His men stood to attention and waited for their orders.

“Simon, take your guys over there. Check thoroughly.” Negan said as a man with a dark moustache motioned for a group of men to pan out by the cylinders.

“D, take your guys inside.” The man you assumed was Dwight nodded and moved toward the front door. He pushed against it a few times before turning back to Negan.

“Boss, it’s jammed.” Dwight said as he pulled a crossbow that was slung across his shoulder into his hands.

“What do you want me to do? Wave a magic fucking wand at it? Go find another way in.” Negan said in an indignant tone. You noticed that Negan looked tired, tired beyond his years. You felt a twang of concern that rattled you to your core. You quickly buried the feeling.

“We’re gonna scout this area. Walkie in if you come across anything.” Negan said before making his way toward the carpark.

You felt the panic rise in you. You promptly ducked to another car. You peeked through the dirty and dust ridden window before seeing that there were no keys inside the vehicle. You clenched your fists in frustration for a second before moving onto the next car. Then the next.

With every car you checked the closer the men came to discovering you. There had been a few close shaves where only the darkness had saved you from being found.

You were kneeling next to a dull silver car which had dark bloodstains splattered on it. There was a long decaying body lying beside you. On the car written in crumbling blood were the words ‘I’m sorry’. You supposed that the once well dressed businessman beside you couldn’t cope. You couldn’t blame him.

You swiftly checked where the men were. There were two men a few cars away from you. You could see the definite silhouette of Negan and Lucille checking inside and under cars.

You peeked inside the blood splatted window and saw that the key was in the ignition. You saw that there was a walker inside the smart car but it wasn’t moving. You decided to take your chances. You very slowly reached your nimble hand to the car door handle. You pulled on it slowly, trying to avoid any noise it may make. the door opened without a creak or squeak. You thanked your lucky stars that maybe, just maybe, someone was looking out for you.

You reached across the walked and just when you were about to push the ignition the walker twitched. You weren’t sure you saw it at first. But then it slowly turned to face you. Then it lunged on top of you.

“Jesus fuck!” You yelled out on instinct. The walker was snapping at you. You were pushing frantically at it.

So much for someone looking out for you.

You tried to reach for your knife that was lodged in your belt but you could get a sturdy grip on it. maybe this was your end. Maybe that was okay. You could leave the people who cared about you. Why should you care? You were just loosening your grip when a loud whack sounded from above you.

The walker flew off you. It all was happening so quickly that your brain couldn’t commute what was happening. One second you were being set upon by a walker and another there was a tall figure stepping over you.

You looked over to see the tall figure battering the Walker’s head in. One hit would’ve sufficed but he kept on hitting. Again and again his bat fell on the walker’s head.

You mind was cloudy and everything seemed a little fuzzy. The tall man turned to face you when the head of the walker was nothing but a mix of blood, brains and bone.

“Hello, Doll.”

Negan.

***

I hoped you enjoyed this chapter!!! Thank you for reading for this long! I am hoping that the next chapter will be the end of this series, but then again I’m not sure. A big thank you again to @perseusandmedusa for without this lovely lady there would not be any The Silent One! Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day!!! (Also I only beta read half of this so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes!!!)

@negans-network

[theoddcatlady]

The Legion Studies, Part Seven

December 8, 198X

No sign of Father Carter or Scotty, and now there was a dead body on our hands with no trace of who the murderer could be.

I was planning on bailing when the blizzard calmed down. Money or not, this wasn’t worth it. Whether it was the Devil or someone whose inner psychosis had caused them to snap under the pressure, lives were in serious danger.

I talked my plans over with Dr. Leon and Lois over lunch.

“I’m onboard.” Lois stabbed her fork into her meatloaf. “And then I’m telling the police that Dr. Lewis let a pedophile have ‘alone time’ with his kids.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Dr. Leon began, but when Lois and I glared at him, he changed his course, “but I’ll do the same. Not to mention one of them’s still missing. Poor Scotty. He was such a happy kid. God knows what’s happened to him.”

The lights flickered and I reached for my cross, clutching it tightly. Lois shuddered. “Don’t. Don’t even start. I bet it was Father Carter who killed the inmate.”

I thought about Father Carter compared to Ollie. “Maybe? I always figured Ollie was stronger.”

Lois shrugged. “Desperate asshole is a desperate asshole.”

That I couldn’t argue with.

Dr. Leon sighed and pushed away his half eaten plate. “Not hungry anymore. We’ll find Father Carter and Scotty soon though. There’s not that many places they can hide out here,” He said.

The only thing to take comfort in, yet three days in and we still couldn’t find them. A puzzle no one had an answer for.

December 9, 198X

This was the last day.

Hugo was interviewing Chloe this time, looking tenser than a stretched rubber band. Chloe sat across the table, her hands folded in with each other as she smiled sweetly.

“Hello Mr. Hugo! Is it really snowing outside? Can we go play together?” She asked.

Hugo chuckled as he twiddled his pencil between his fingers. “I don’t think so, Harus. We’re staying in here until you decide to piss off back to hell,” He said.

Chloe’s jaw dropped and shock exploded across her face. “How did you-“

“What? Did you expect me to forget you?” Hugo leaned in and smirked. “I remember all the friends Emmet loved to bring in, and I remember your foul mouth. You’re a bit of a bitch.” He leaned back and cocked his head. “Now. Are you gonna leave the little girl alone?”

Chloe’s expression twisted into something dark before she turned to the window, right where I was sitting. “No. Chloe needed me. She let me in! Your power won’t move me.”

“You wanna bet?”

Hugo took off one of his necklaces and swung it around his finger. Lois looked up from where she was monitoring Chloe’s brain activity. “What are you doing?” She asked suspiciously.

“Exorcism, love.” Hugo started walking around Chloe, whose small face had gone pale. “This wasn’t the deal, that little kids would have a demon marching around their heads.”

“This hasn’t been approved by Dr. Lewis-“

Hugo’s snort cut Lois off. “I really don’t give a shit about a man who knows dick on how to parent. I’m not letting this demon stay inside Chloe any longer than it has to be. You want to make this easy, Harus?”

Chloe spat on Hugo’s shoes.

Then the room went dark.

I heard Lois scream and Hugo shout something before I was knocked to the floor. Terror filled my chest when I felt a pair of familiar hands wrap around my throat. Not again. This could not be happening again.

This time I could still breathe, but I couldn’t get up. I was paralyzed. Then I heard a voice.

“… you start to believe in that cross now?”

The distorted voice laughed, a sound like radio static.

“One moment, one moment too late, Barbie.”

A finger stroked down my face, attached to an arm I still couldn’t see.

“You look just like your mother.”

The emergency red lights clicked on and whatever had me pinned was gone. I heard the others in the room gasping and hacking, I stumbled to my feet to see at least two of the others were passed out, the others trying to force breath in through bruised throats.

I gripped the cross before I ran to the interview room. It was like a tornado had been through there. The table was knocked over, the monitoring equipment smashed and smoking. Hugo was laying across the ground. Lois was slumped over her chair, groaning quietly. Chloe was nowhere to be seen. I went to Lois first and shook her awake.

Lois’ eyes flicked open before she gasped. “Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! Chloe!” She looked around wildly. “Holy shit, the kid threw the table- Hugo!?”

Hugo groaned before raising a hand.

“I think we’re fucked.”

Chloe had vanished the same way Scotty and Father Carter had. The only thing the power was running was the heat. There was no lights.

Hugo and I were together, everyone was ordered to remain inside their rooms until the power came back on. No one wanted to be alone. Especially me.

We sat on my bed, back to back for several quiet minutes. Maybe an hour. I’m not sure. I broke the silence.

“My mother was possessed when I was ten years old.”

Hugo tensed. “… I thought you didn’t believe in all of that,” He said, turning his head back.

I laughed. “I don’t know any more Hugo. I don’t know.”

The most terrifying to me, up to this day, is the unknown. Why things happened. Everything had an explanation that could be defined by chemicals in the brain, how you were raised, your genetics. Everything could be explained by that.

“My mom always called me Barbie. No one else did,” I shifted until I was leaning against the wall, so I could see Hugo’s reactions, “it was our thing. I was her Barbie. She was… a very thoughtful woman. You would’ve liked her I think.”

“I’m terrible at being thoughtful. So probably not.”

I elbowed Hugo gently. “Knock it off. I’m being serious.”

Hugo raised both his hands. “I’ll behave! So… what happened?” He asked.

I sighed.

“… I’m not sure how it happened. It wasn’t an overnight change. It was over the span of a few weeks, I think. She stopped going to work after her brother died. She spent all her time in the room. She never wanted to talk to me. She started complaining of hearing things in the walls. Things I never heard. She hated to be close to me. I was a child who loved hugs. Mom always encouraged that. But when I went in for a hug one day, she… she pushed me. I hit the back of my head on the counter. My dad came home to me crying and my mom sobbing, telling me sorry and that it wasn’t her that did that.”

Hugo rested a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me more.”

“I feel like I do.” No one knew these things except for a therapist. “My mom was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. She got worse. Began talking to someone. Someone no one could see.”

I started to pick at a hangnail I’d gotten a few days prior. “Dad just told me he was like mom’s imaginary friend. I’m surprised he didn’t leave her. Dad took care of her for the last part of her life. Until she beat him up, flung him across the room and just… ran off screaming. I was in the room when it happened, I just… wanted to show my parents my A+ on my math test.”

Hugo didn’t say anything. I pulled loose the hangnail and a little blood welled up. “She threw herself in front of a truck, according to dad… I’m not sure if that’s the truth. I always wanted to explain what happened to her. And now I wish I hadn’t.”  

It was only a second of silence before Hugo pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back so tightly I thought I’d break his ribs.

We stayed like that until the subjects from B-2 escaped.

It was almost midnight. We’d almost fallen asleep when the door slid open and a man slipped in. I screamed and threw my flashlight at the figure.

The light illuminated his face briefly before it konked him over the head. The man shouted and nearly toppled over, but I recognized his voice.

“… Ernie?”

Hugo stood up and picked back up the flashlight, flashing it on Ernie’s face. His face was covered in swollen bruises. I got up. “Ernie? Why are you out-“

“Everyone’s out. Everyone’s out now. Rex is dead!”

Ernie’s bottom lip quivered. He looked near tears. I hushed him and had him sit down, he looked like he’d been beaten half to hell. After he caught his breath he opened up about what happened.

“Everyone was on lock down. Dr. Lewis was questioning us about Chloe, if any of us had seen her. Then I heard Rex scream, and everything went to hell. Doors all opened up, everyone got out. It was like… It was like everyone in the room just went crazy! Everyone started attacking each other, and, hell I almost got caught up in it until I realized what I was doing. I just got the hell out of there but not… not before…”

Ernie’s eyes welled up with tears. “… Poor Rex,” He whispered.

Hugo gulped, but I took a deep breath. Stay calm. Stay calm. “What happened to Rex?”

“… I found his body in his room. Gutted and hanging from the ceiling.”

My heart dropped.

“Wasn’t recent either. His body was all bloated and dried out, he’d been like that for days but I, I knew that kid! I knew it was him screaming!”

Ernie shook his head. “Everyone kept on fighting and I ran. We gotta hide. Can we bar the door?”

Hugo stood. “We have to get out of here. Now.” He went into my wardrobe and grabbed my coat, flinging it at me.

I caught it but shook my head. “Hugo, none of us know how to fly a plane-“

“I do.”

Ernie blinked hard as if to clear his vision. “I know how to fly a plane, just haven’t done it in a few years. I’d never fly in the weather like we have right now, but… do we have a choice?”

Hugo answered for me.

“We don’t. Let’s try to find the pilot, but if we can’t, Ernie you better remember quick.”