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kiri-ah · 3 years

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Something To Sink My Teeth Into || she/her pronouns version

Themes: Supernatural AU, Vampire AU, strangers to lovers, angst and fluff (so much fluff), something similar to those symbiotes from Venom and Hanahaki disease combined, interplanar travel, Jaemin and the reader are oblivious and Chenle gets mad about it, long conversations about vampires, vampires can't cry

Pairing: Vampire!Jaemin x Female Human!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood (minor), mentions of eating (human food and vampire food), character death, Chenle is kind of a butthole, in depth conversations about humans and vampires which include biting and blood drinking, Yuta's house gets set on fire

Word Count: 26.4k

Taglist: @bluejaem, @heyyyun, @generantionct (untaggable), @stayctday, @kunrengui, @allegxdly, @leetaeyonglover, @koishua, @choppedupcactus, @hyuckworld, @alexameliamg, @notbeforelong, @jaemotel

Summary: A trip to Poland goes terribly wrong - or maybe terribly right - when you're bitten and kidnapped by a vampire. Between passing out, almost dying multiple times, and falling in love, you have a lot on your plate. Oh, and the magic. Right. Teaser here.

A/N: This is so much longer than it was meant to be... *sigh*

This has only been edited by myself and a friend of mine, please excuse any errors. I worked hard to make the best experience possible. For that reason, please note that this is the !she/her pronouns version! He/him pronouns may be found here, they/them pronouns here. Please enjoy!

You were on holiday in Krakow, Poland. For your twenty first birthday, your parents had gifted you a weeklong trip over Spring Break, and you had been having the time of your life. You had found Krakow rich in historical influence - it had been the capital of Poland until 1596 and still had remnants of the past, like a Renaissance-era trading post and sections of the medieval walls that surrounded the city. Plus, the section of the city that you were staying in was very close to the city center, where you discovered aforementioned trading post, called the Cloth Hall, and an old cathedral named St. Mary’s Basilica.

The first night of your stay, Sunday night, you had struggled to sleep, because of the time difference and the excitement of arriving. You stayed in Monday morning, trying to at least rest a bit, and then ventured out to the nearest coffee shop when that didn’t alleviate your sleepiness. The barista had whipped up your favorite pick-me-up morning drink, and you went to sit outside in the fresh air, surveying the plaza over the rim of your cup. It was just the right time of year, you thought, because it was nice and warm without being too hot, just how you liked it. The sun had started to rise about the buildings around you, illuminating certain structures and giving them an unearthly glow.

When you finished your drink, you put the cup into the collection bin and walked back out onto the main square, just enjoying the sun on your face (over the sunglasses you had bought in the airport after forgetting to pack yours) and letting the warmth sink through your limbs after the tired night. One of the unfortunate things about the time of year you had travelled was the tourists. There were families and older couples and people your age taking trips with their friends, and most everyone stayed right where you were staying as well: right in the heart of the city. To avoid as many crowds as possible, you had booked a tour of St. Mary’s Basilica for Thursday morning, and reserved entry to the underground museum for this afternoon.

Tomorrow you planned to go and see Grodzka Street, where you were going to try and find a souvenir. In the same neighborhood was an ancient church called St. Andrew’s Church, which dated back to around 1079. On Wednesday, you were going to brave the crowds of people in the Cloth Hall for the same purpose, and also because it was a historical landmark that you just needed to explore. Wednesday afternoon was blocked out to be a rest period, as was Thursday morning. Then on Friday you were planning to go and see the Wawel Castle and Cathedral. From there you would explore the various attractions on the property, and then return to the plaza later to eat. That afternoon, you planned to go to the Jewish cemetery. Saturday was blocked out for a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau, which was a Nazi concentration camp and a Holocaust memorial out of the main town. When you returned to the hotel late that afternoon you would pack and get ready for your flight Sunday morning. It was going to be a very full and very fun week. Or at least you hoped it would be fun.

You explored the main square a little bit that first day and unpacked your things, making sure you had everything you needed for your trip and you didn’t need to walk to one of the convenience stores nearby.

The days passed quickly, and you finished each one completely satisfied. Everything and everyone here was so wonderful and you started to wonder how you had never heard of this place before this trip. It was absolutely one of the best places your parents could have picked.

On Friday morning you got up bright and early (well, actually, it was dark and early) to go to the Wawel Castle. You had heard from a travelling site that tickets sold out fast and it was important to get there early in the day, and you tried to heed that warning. At 7am when you arrived it was already busy, but thankfully not so much that the lines were too long. You wandered through the small exhibits and around the grounds. It was a bit more chilly today and you wrapped a scarf around your neck as you shivered, trying to find a less windy spot to hide out for a second. You found a little spot where you could take a moment and recharge your inner heater and were doing just that, burrowing into your small scarf mountain, when you realized that a person stood next to you. You looked up through your lashes at them and caught your breath - holy cow he had good genes. He had a sharp, sloping jawline that stopped at a chin less pointy than you had expected. His lips were plush and round, although he needed some chapstick. His hair was pushed around by the wind but despite that he looked, well, amazing. Sections were bleached, giving his hair an almost halo-esque look. His nostrils contracted as he inhaled and then his eyes cut down to yours, dark and deep and was that eyeliner?

He smiled then, a smirk that seemed far too self-assured for the situation, and leaned over towards your exposed ear. “I can feel you staring, sweetheart,” he murmured. The top of your ear, which had been feeling rather numb, flamed hot at his words. It almost hurt, the sudden jump into heat. You turned towards him fully, only eyes exposed by the scarf mountain. Your hair whipped around as the wind shifted again, but he didn’t seem cold, although he was in only a pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket. The jacket caught your attention for a second - it was studded with thousands of little rhinestones, like a varsity jacket gone shiny. Then he shifted closer into your space and you were forced to look back at his eyes, glittering in a way that seemed almost predatory. You sucked in a breath through your mouth and started to back away.

“S-sorry,” your breath came out in a whisper. Nobody seemed to notice your interaction. “I didn’t see you there, I’ll just leave.” You turned to go before his hand, surprisingly strong, clamped around your arm and pulled you back into his chest.

His voice came out in a growl as he blocked your scream with his other hand. “I am far, far too hungry for you to leave right now, precious.” The strength in your legs seemed to dissipate at his tone, you knew you needed to defend yourself, but ‘hungry’? What was that about? And precious? The hand wrapped around your arm let go and started unwrapping your scarf, exposing your face to both him and the frigid wind. He started to lean down, and you pressed your lips together tightly. At the very least, he wasn’t getting in your mouth. You may have lost the strength in your legs, but not in your will. Then he bypassed your mouth and leaned into your neck, inhaling and causing cold air to course along the column of your throat. He chuckled when you shivered, then bit into your neck.

The pain was overwhelming, you could feel each individual blood cell crying out, every organ protesting, your head started to pound with it. It hurt far more than even a dog bite should. It hurt like a shot at the doctor going on and on, echoing through your body and you were powerless to stop it. The pain flared in your neck and your brain seemed to slow down as the blood flowed away from it and into his mouth. You crumbled into him, and without detaching from your throat, he scooped you up into his arms, holding you there to be his personal bloodbag. You had long since stopped trying to scream, it was too difficult, too much effort.

Vampires, your thoughts whispered, before the pain covered you and you passed out, collapsing completely.

☽༓☾

You woke up in a... cozy cottage? There wasn’t any sign of your attacker and, in fact, no sign of anything vampire esque either. You looked around the single room at the soft fabric couch (covered in boho style throw pillows), the kitchenette (complete with pre packed food), and the window, through which you could see a combination flower and vegetable garden. There were two doors off of the room you were in, one that led towards the lush green outside, and one that must have concealed the bathroom.

The moment you realized this, you also realized that you really needed to use said bathroom, and struggled to plant your bare feet on the floor. Your legs didn't want to hold your weight, and you crumbled to the rug with a whine. Two seconds later, the door to the outside opened with a swish of fresh air and there, outlined by the sun, stood the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. When he saw you on the floor, he groaned and ran a hand through his pink hair. "Shit, I'm so sorry, let me help you!" He ran over and you allowed him to half carry you into the bathroom. It wasn’t like you had any strength to protest, and he seemed nice. He smelled like sunshine on fresh earth.

Once you had finished using the toilet you tried to stand up again, now that you at least had some semblance of strength in your legs. After a few tries you were able to support yourself against the bathroom counter, with more than half of your weight against the frigid tiles. Your legs shook as you started standing more straight up, and you made a high pitched keening sound that you didn’t even know you could make; the man’s worried voice came through the door. His voice was higher and slightly panicked.

“Are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurting too much?”

Your voice, which you hadn’t managed to make work properly, came out lower than usual and scratchy. A portion of your throat ached as you tried to make the sounds audibly. “Yeah,” you rasped out. “I can’t stand up properly.”

“Do you need me to come and help?” There was something about his voice that just made you want to trust him. It was soft but strong and even though he had toned down the panic, it still had soft tremors of worry running through it.

You thought about it for a second and considered yourself in the mirror. You looked, quite frankly, horrible. Your hair was a mess (more than usual), your eye bags were sagging unnaturally, and your eyes themselves were dull. You did look like you needed help. You sighed. “Sure.”

A moment later he opened the door slowly and stepped into the space with you, putting one arm around your waist to help support you. You relaxed some of your weight onto him and closed your eyes briefly. It would have been a wholly relaxing moment if not for your stomach. It grumbled up at you and you thought for a moment that it sounded like an angry octopus trapped inside of you. Then you blinked to clear the thought away as the man laughed. It was deeper than you expected from a man with pink cotton-candy colored hair, a low chuckle that rumbled through his body and, in turn, yours. You shook against him slightly with the movement and his other arm came to help you lean more against his body. He was stronger than you expected and you could feel the muscles in his arms shift as he reoriented himself.

“Let’s get you some food,” he said, smiling. “Unfortunately I’m not sure I’ll have much you’ll like.” You just nodded. Your throat was still throbbing uncomfortably where you were bitten and you weren’t sure you had the energy to even debate his statement. You were sure you would eat whatever he gave you. He led you into the main room again and helped you settle onto the couch. He walked over to the kitchenette and picked up a can of soup, then walked back to you to verify it was a kind that you liked. Once you had approved it, he went back and put it in a pot on the electric stove, starting to heat it up. As he stood over it, you had some time to think as you sat on the couch. The first thing you realized was that you still didn’t know what his name was, which was an issue. You couldn’t thank him properly without knowing his name. The second thing you realized was that you didn’t know where you were, exactly. The third was that you had probably missed your flight back home and your parents were going to murder you for it when you eventually got back. You shifted so you were more comfortable before trying to speak again. You started with the easiest vocal warmup you remembered and the man looked over at you with eyebrows raised.

“You good?” he asked. You nodded in response, hoping that your throat would relax and stop throbbing.

“Yeah, I think so,” you told him. “The side of my neck really aches where that man bit me.” His eyebrows furrowed at this and you thought maybe you just imagined it, that nobody actually bit you, but the pain was real enough in that moment and it was certainly real enough when he bit you. “Also,” you continued, “I still don’t know what your name is.” He seemed to think about this for a moment.

“I’m Jaemin Na,” he said eventually. “This is my house. And I think maybe we need to take a closer look at your bite, I didn’t realize it still hurt. Usually the throbbing goes away after a day or two.” You found yourself nodding along before his words sank in.

“Okay, uh, nice to actually know who you are now. I’m Y/N,” you said. There were suddenly many more questions floating around your brain. Usually he had said, which meant he had dealt with vampire bitten people before. How? Was he one? Why weren’t you a vampire? And how long had you been asleep for? They circled around your head like a dog chasing its tail until you realized that Jaemin was in front of you. It seemed like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “What was that?”

“I said we have all the time in the world for you to ask me the questions I know you must have. Don’t psych yourself out. You’re safe.” Despite the fact that you knew next to nothing about him you found yourself once again trusting him without reason. He just seemed like a genuinely nice person, someone you could believe to tell you nothing but the truth.

“Okay,” you agreed, and it came out like a sigh. Your throat gave a particularly unpleasant throb and you unconsciously brought a hand up to rub at it. Jaemin’s hand fastened around your wrist and pulled it away, looking closely at your skin. He sighed.

“You’ve probably figured out by now that the man who bit you was a vampire. If you haven’t, have your moment of denial now.” You just looked back at him, surprised.

“Denial?”

“Yeah. Usually when humans find out about vampires for the first time they aren’t very accepting of it. I’ve had to replace my windows a few times from thrown objects.” You almost laughed before realizing that he was serious.

“Okay, well, I already got that, so go ahead,” you prompted.

“Great!” His eyes got just a little bit less heavy with your statement and he continued, “contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t actually turn humans all that often. If we had that little self control the whole population would be dead or turned already.” You noted his use of the word we and shuddered a little. He could attack you too? He seemed so gentle.

For the first time you noticed your soup in a bowl on the coffee table. Jaemin reclaimed your attention by speaking again. “We’re also pretty good at choosing who to bite, and when. We’re not heartless. We try to choose people with good metabolisms so that we can return them to Earth quickly.” At this you inhaled so sharply that he paused, looking over at you.

“We aren’t on Earth anymore?” you asked shakily. He shook his head with a quirk of his lips. That distracted you enough to calm down for a moment. He really was a gorgeous person. Was the word person still applicable to vampires? You didn’t know. He sucked you out of your thoughts again with a hand waved in front of you.

“No, we’re not on Earth. Where we are… it’s like a parallel plane of existence. Vampires can live here, do live here, in bigger bunches than we can on Earth. We call it ‘Vahmpyr.’ I always thought that was a really unoriginal name, but I was turned after it was discovered so I didn’t have much of a say. It would be like you trying to rename Earth.” He picked up your bowl of soup and stirred it around, handing it to you, before continuing.

“This is my vacation house of sorts, where I nurse humans who have been bitten back to their healthy selves. Generally we vampires try to keep one certified nurse or doctor in each coven just in case, more if the coven is large. It’s a handy skill to have. Especially if you happen to have parts of your coven who are as chaotic as ours.” He looked over at you and smiled wryly before adding, “I didn’t poison the soup, you know.” You looked down at your lap where the warm bowl sat and laughed under your breath before picking up the spoon and taking a bite. It was delicious. You flashed him a thumbs up with your mouth full and he smiled brightly again.

Once you had swallowed you asked, “how can you bite humans and not turn them? I didn’t know it was possible to not turn us.” He nodded like he was expecting this question.

“It’s kind of a strange feeling,” he told you. “Biting, I mean. It’s not like the human feeling of biting into a piece of meat. It’s just… it’s amazing. It’s like cold fruit on a summer’s day, hot chocolate while snow falls. It’s at once a feeling of absolute power and absolute devotion because tasting a human’s blood puts them above everything else, at least for a few moments. At the same time you’re aware that their body is falling apart and right into you. It’s intoxicating. Every once in a while you’ll bite someone that just tastes extraordinarily good, or meet someone with a unique and, pardon my language, delicious, smell. Then your body sort of automatically realizes you want them to stick around and releases the venom.”

“So,” you said, interested by his version of vampires, “if you bit me right now, I’d be fine?”

His eyes sparked with something new. Anger, you thought, or something close to it. “I just spent four days nursing you back to health and you want me to bite you just to see what happens?” he asked incredulously.

“No! I was just confirming. I’m sorry,” you murmured, and shoved another bite of the soup into your mouth for good measure. He sighed.

“I’m sorry too, it feels so easy to talk to you. I forget that you’re new to this.” You choked on your soup while he and he hurriedly patted your back as you regained your breath. “Are you alright?”

“Did you say you spent four days nursing me back to health?” you asked, head spinning. Four days. Four days. Four days. “I’ve been missing from Earth for four days?”

He deliberated for a moment. “Yes, and no. You’ve been off of Earth for four days, yes, but you aren’t missing.” You raised an eyebrow in response and he hurried to explain more. “I mean, obviously you’re here, and yes, you’ve been here for four days, asleep, recovering from Jisung’s bite. On the other hand, there’s still a you on Earth right now. That’s the interesting thing about Vahmpyr. We can bring humans back, with some effort, and while they’re here, a version of them is still on Earth. It’s still you. And if you go back, from what I understand, you get your other half’s memories back, like you never left. It’s quite the phenomenon.” He seemed completely serious and you were inclined to believe him, but this was insanity. Another you, a perfect copy, walking around on Earth while you hung out with the vampires in their parallel plane? You pinched yourself. It hurt, and you winced. Jaemin looked at you with this horrible understanding glimmer in his eyes like he was saying I know how this is. It’s weird and unimaginable but it’s here. Please don’t break any of my things.

Eventually you just kept sitting and looked back at him. “This really is good soup,” you said. He looked at you in surprise before bursting out laughing, face lighting up like the horizon at sunrise.

“You’re not going to attack me?” he asked between chuckles. “That’s the normal response. And thank you, that’s my favorite kind of soup too.” You shook your head, smiling back at him.

“I decided that there’s no changing it even if this is just a fever dream induced by an infected human,” you explained to him. “And wait, can you actually eat still? Like stuff besides blood?” In response he ran over to the small kitchen and grabbed a spoon of his own, dipping it into the bowl and moving it to his mouth. When he was done he smiled at you.

“I can still eat human foods. Nothing is as good as blood, of course, but I can still enjoy it. It’s just dulled by the transformation. And I’m glad that’s the stance you take on being transported to a different plane, I’ve known humans to react rather badly.” He took a moment to think. “For example, there was a woman who was convinced we had sexually assaulted her, which is a fair thought, but she wouldn’t let me explain anything to her. She ran outside as soon as her legs were strong enough and ran right into Lucas. He’s a really big guy, wide and tall and strong and such. She was so terrified she ran into my bathroom and I had to give her the spiel from through the door. Not the finest of interactions.” In spite of yourself you laughed. You could imagine the woman’s fear, especially if this Lucas was as infuriatingly gorgeous as Jaemin and the man who had bit you. You probably should’ve felt the same way, but something about Jaemin was just relaxing, and you felt safe with him.

“I get it,” you told Jaemin. “All of you guys; the guy who bit me - what did you say his name was? Jisung? Yeah, him. Jisung and you and probably Lucas, you all look like models which I guess goes with the vampire narrative, but it’s a little shocking since I’ve never seen someone so good looking. It’s nearly scary.” You looked back up to see Jaemin looking surprised.

“You think we’re good looking? Even after you got bitten by one, abducted by another, and have only heard of the third in a story about someone running away screaming?”

You shrugged. “All of that doesn’t change the facts. You’re still some pretty perfect looking human beings.” A moment later you realized what you had said and wrinkled your nose. “Sorry, uh, creatures. Is that offensive?” Jaemin laughed again and wow you could get addicted to that laugh. It was so carefree. You supposed that came with immortality.

“Technically ‘creatures’ is more accurate but isn’t very nice-sounding, even if we are unnatural monsters.” He said this as though he had come to terms with it. Even if we are unnatural monsters.

“I don’t think you’re unnatural,” you told him. “I mean, if there is a higher power out there then He or It or They created a whole plane for you and if not then nature did. I don’t think Vahmpyr would exist if you were unnatural.” He looked at you without speaking as you took another spoonful of soup.

“That’s… that’s a new way of looking at it.” He looked conflicted, like he was trying to reconcile your view of him with his view of himself. “I don’t think our plane was meant to exist though, by higher power or nature. Humans are beautiful because they age and there is room for change within your society. It’s hard to change an entire plane full of the unchanging.”

“Maybe so,” you argued, “but you’re obviously gorgeous on the outside, and on the inside it seems like you have a good system too. If I was a vampire I don’t think I’d take care of the humans I had bitten. It wouldn’t have occurred to me. They would all die. I would be dead, come to think of it.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. “You really do have a unique view of things.”

“Thank you?” It came out sounding more like a question than you intended. You finished your bowl of soup, licking the excess off of your upper lip. Setting the bowl back down seemed to break whatever spell had kept you in eager conversation with him. You supposed all of your questions had been answered, for now. Jaemin helped you get set up with Netflix on his TV and went back outside to his garden. He explained that you could call for him through the open window if you needed him, he would be right nearby. You nodded, already distracted by the opening scene of your show.

After a while you realized that there were low voices coming from outside. It sounded like Jaemin was talking to someone. You turned the volume down on the TV a little bit to listen. Maybe you could meet the infamous Lucas or someone else in Jaemin’s vampire family.

“... have to bring her to me?” Jaemin was saying. “You tasted her, you know her scent. This is painful. Her scent is all over my things, my bed.” He let out a small groan and the other man with him chuckled breathily.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean for her to smell so good I swear, it was a spur of the moment decision. I was hunting in her area and her scent was so enticing. Plus, I was hungry!” You shuddered at the mention of hunting. This one, who must be Jisung, was far less civilized than Jaemin, it seemed.

Jaemin made an angry noise and his words hissed out when he spoke. “You think it was enticing out in the open air of Poland? On a windy day? I’ve been smelling her acutely on my things, in my house, for four days and it hurts. My venom has been going non-stop for the entire period and it’s not like I can just change her, she’s got a life ahead of her!” Part of your heart went out to Jaemin - he was trying so hard to take care of you and even caused himself pain for it. That explained why he had reacted so negatively when you asked what would happen if he bit you. You wouldn’t have been fine. You would’ve become like him. The thought didn’t cause the anger or disgust you thought it should have. It sounded nice, almost, to be like him. To stay in his safety for eternity.

“Jaemin,” said a new voice. It was strong and rough like tree bark lined his throat. “You can return her back to the real world in just a few more days and you’ll be free of her. It’s not like she would want to stay here anyway, her friends and family are back on Earth. We can keep Jisung home and have him feed on Chenle until he learns his lesson.”

Someone, presumably Jisung, made a wounded noise. “I can control myself, I promise. Don’t make me feed on Chenle, Hyung, he doesn’t taste anywhere near as good.” Definitely Jisung.

“Jisung,” said Jaemin’s voice. “Don’t argue, you brought this on yourself. And me,” he adds as an afterthought.

Jisung’s sullen voice responded, “fine, Hyung, but Chenle isn’t going to be happy either, you know.” You thought maybe Jaemin must have nodded or something because nobody said anything for a while. You turned off the TV, suddenly bored with the program and head full of new questions. The top one on the list was why. Why did you affect them this way? Why did Jaemin treat you so nicely when you were hurting him? Why did Jisung sound like a puppy who had been reprimanded? Why did Jaemin and the other man have the power to ground him, essentially? Then there were the who questions. Who was the man with the voice like tree bark? Who was Chenle, and why wouldn’t he be happy? Lastly were the when questions. When would you be going home? When would you see them again? Would you see them ever again? When would Jisung be allowed to hunt again?

You were so deep in your head that you didn’t notice the door opening and Jaemin coming in, two men behind him, until he stopped and waved a hand in front of you.

“Y/N, you okay? I brought you some people to meet.” He stepped back and you forced your eyes to refocus on what was in front of you. When you looked up at him, he presented the two other guys like he was a car salesman and these were his favorite models. “This is Jisung, you’ve met him already although I don’t know if you remember him.” You nodded, looking over him. He had on a grey crewneck sweatshirt over a pair of black sweatpants today and looked far less terrifyingly beautiful flanked by his hyungs.

“I remember him,” you told them. “You’re the one who bit me.” You didn’t think it was possible for him to look more sheepish than he already did but he managed to, and shrank back so that he was standing half-behind the other man. The other guy had bleached hair falling messily over his forehead, and even though he was shorter than Jisung, he seemed to command your attention more. He had on a green sleeveless shirt that showed off arms rippling with muscles. You gulped, looking up at him, but then he smiled at you. His whole demeanor changed. He felt less like he was about to kill you and more like he might accidentally strangle you to death in a hug. His eyes scrunched up into little crescents and you found yourself smiling back.

“I’m Jeno,” he said, walking forward to shake your hand. “Sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier.” His voice still sounded like bark lined his throat, but less so now that he wasn’t bothering to limit his volume.

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I just woke up earlier today.” You glanced towards Jaemin; he looked like a proud mom watching you interact with his friend. “Jaemin fed me, and since then I’ve just been sitting here watching TV. I can’t find my phone, and even if I did I’m not sure I could walk over to it. My legs are out of practice.”

Jeno smiled again. “That’s pretty common for Jisung’s victims. We found out he has these little back teeth that make it more painful for the people he bites so they usually need more bed rest to recover from the strain on their bodies and the blood loss.”

You nodded, as though that made sense. They still let Jisung hunt with his unpredictability and extra teeth? That seemed a little irresponsible of them, but you supposed that Jeno and Jaemin weren’t that much older than him in the first place. You tried to bring up your next subject subtly.

“Speaking of recovery, when do you think I’ll be going back to Earth?” The change in the room was immediate. Jeno’s smile faltered enough for you to see his eyes, Jaemin’s shoulders slumped, and Jisung’s foot started tapping against the rug. “It’s not that I don’t like it here,” you interjected, “I'm just worried that my, uh, double self will get up to trouble and stuff. What if someone notices it’s not me?”

Jisung looked at Jaemin. “You either did a really bad job of explaining this or she wasn't listening, Hyung.” Jaemin glared at him in response and chose not to dignify the statement with an answer. Jisung huffed at him and turned to you. “It’s you, y’know, back on Earth. Like… when a starfish gets cut in half, both halves grow into full starfish again. Something similar happened to you. Same organism, same you, just two different places. Is that a weird comparison?”

“What he means,” interjected Jeno before you could reply, “is that the you down there has all of your experiences and memories and the same brain. It’s the exact same person as you, just two versions of you. When you go back you won't even have a bite scar.” At this you lifted your hand to rub at the mark on your throat. You saw Jisung’s eyes follow the action and he licked his lips. You put your arm back down into your lap and swallowed, the sound echoing in your head.

Finally Jaemin spoke. “And to answer your question, as soon as we get you strong enough to walk on your own you can go back. I mean technically there’s a body waiting for you down there, but we don’t know what would happen if we sent you back faulty, so we like to be careful.” You laughed at his use of the word faulty and nodded.

“Okay. Do you guys have a portal or something that’ll take me back?” At this all three men burst into laughter and a high pitched squeal joined the mix, coming from the doorway. Yet another man was standing there, thin orange-dyed hair flopping as he doubled over laughing.

“A- a portal,” he wheezed out between laughs. “No, we don’t have a portal.” You threw him a disgruntled look.

“I was just asking…”

Jaemin looked equally off-put and said, “Y/N, this is Chenle, Jisung’s best friend and our second child. Sorry about his lack of a filter.” His lips pursed unhappily and you rushed to reassure him.

“No, that’s okay, I don’t know if that was stupid question. No feelings hurt, he’s fine.” Jaemin looked unconvinced, so you sat up more towards Chenle and reached out a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh is that your name?” he replied breezily, shaking your hand quickly. “They were right, you do smell good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jaemin shift protectively.

“Chenle.” His voice came out a growl, raising hairs on the back of your neck. “Don’t you dare.” It was interesting, you thought, how this dynamic worked. From what you had heard with Jisung, Jaemin had always contained himself, like he was reprimanding his favorite child. With Chenle he seemed almost dangerous, like it was possible for him to hurt a fly, and things much bigger than a fly. You wondered if he was this way with all of his patients, or if Chenle just bothered him more with you than usual.

“I’m not going to, mom, chill out a moment.” Chenle, you decided, must be the bad egg of their group. Every family had at least one, and here was theirs. He seemed the most likely to hurt something for the fun of it, and it almost seemed like he should have been the one to attack you, not Jisung. You wondered, in the distant back of your head, whether he had extra teeth for biting like Jisung did. Maybe it was better not to find out.

“Please don’t call me mom,” Jaemin sighed in response, all of the fight leaving him a rush. His muscles were still tense, though, and he ran a hand through his cotton candy colored hair.

“Chenle,” said Jeno, “I think you and Jisung should go talk. He has news for you.” Jisung shuddered slightly, his nod small and tense. You remembered his reaction earlier, when he had been informed that he needed to feed from Chenle for the time being. Chenle looked between Jisung and Jeno and an expression appeared on his face that didn’t seem natural on him - uncomfortable confusion. What you had seen in this past tension filled minute was that he was self assured and rambunctious. Now you wondered if he respected Jeno, regardless of that. You supposed you didn’t really have time to find out, you would be going home as soon as you could walk on your own. Speaking of which-

“I need to use the bathroom again,” you said as Jisung walked out of the house with Chenle right behind him.

“You should try getting up on your own,” Jeno suggested. “The more you sit around the harder it’ll be for your legs to get strong again.” You nodded and used the arm of the couch to haul yourself to your feet. Your knees started shaking again and Jaemin hurried to support you a little, until you felt a little more steady on your feet. Once you did, you tentatively took a tiny step towards the bathroom. Your arms flew out to your sides to help with balance and Jaemin took the mother bird stance, worriedly standing within arm’s length to catch you if you started to collapse. Jeno watched from a few paces away and smiled at you.

“Let’s see if you can get to me, okay? Then we can help if you need support.” You nodded and gritted your teeth, shuffling forward on your weak legs slowly. The good news: you made it to him without falling or using Jaemin’s ever-there assistance. The not so good news: you practically fell into Jeno when you got to him, using his body for support. He helped you find your center of gravity again before acting as a crutch to get you to the bathroom.

“If you need anything,” Jaemin told you, “I’ll be right out here. Don’t over-exert yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just like one step to the toilet, and there’s a nice strong counter” you assured him, and closed the door behind you as you stepped away from Jeno’s warm strength. Immediately you felt weak again but you reached out to hold on to the edge of the counter while you walked and got safely to the toilet. Your legs screeched at you as you lowered yourself onto the seat and you relaxed a little bit once you were seated. Recovery was going to be hard.

☽༓☾

Two days passed in a blur of pain and people. You met quite a few new people, like the infamous Lucas (who was a giant baby and who adored you), a woman named Joy who had actual red eyes like the legends said, and a man that everyone called Ten. Actually, you weren’t sure if Ten counted as a man. He dropped by Jaemin’s house the third day, right after Jisung and Chenle had just left after getting some flowers from Jaemin’s garden. He walked in on tentacles, long and thick ones that wrapped around the door frame and curled and uncurled as he talked. He muttered something about wishing they would just admit they were gay and asked Jaemin if he happened to have clams. Jaemin, looking amused, supplied him with an entire bucket of the little creatures. Ten gave him a jar in response and flounced out the door without even looking at you.

“Jaemin,” you asked, “what, or who, was that?” Jaemin laughed happily and the sound was so perfect that you wished he would just keep laughing forever.

“Ten is kind of unique,” Jaemin said. “Obviously, he’s got tentacles, which is unusual, and then he’s also not a vampire so none of us can quite figure out how he can get here, to Vahmpyr. But he can see the future, sort of, which is pretty helpful sometimes. Warns us when we’re getting too active and need to be careful of humans. He’s also convinced that Chenle and Jisung are gay and that they just need some guidance.”

You couldn’t decide on a question to ask about these revelations, so you settled for a very intelligent sounding “huh,” and continued your walking around the house. You were doing a lot better now with your exercises and had been able to make it around the room without holding onto anything for support four times now. Jaemin laughed again and you felt yourself actually flinch from the force of his happiness. It was addicting, almost. He went back to his Gaelic scrolls, which he was translating for a man called Kun, who you had yet to meet.

You had a sudden thought and you found yourself needing to talk, to explain about the other day. “Jaemin,” you said, dropping into the seat across from him at the table with a low groan. “The other day when Jisung and Jeno came, you guys were talking outside, you know?” He looked up from the scrolls, giving you a raised eyebrow like ‘so?’

“So I may or may not have listened to your conversation,” you told him, watching as he gave you his full attention, clicking his pen closed and rolling up the scrolls gently. He didn’t look angry, exactly, more apprehensive than anything. Like he was back to worrying about you throwing things and breaking his windows.

“And?” he prompted, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them you saw something strange there, like fear. But certainly the immortal and beautiful Jaemin couldn’t be scared of you. You must’ve been interpreting it wrong.

“Well you guys were talking about my smell,” you started slowly. “And, uh, you said that you- that I was causing you pain. And I was just wondering, why keep me around? Why not take me to a human hospital, or just kill me? Or turn me? Why did you make yourself suffer?”

He inhaled deeply and then shivered a little bit. When he spoke, his voice was soft and a little scratchy. “For one, we’ve never had a case like this before. I mean obviously there have been people who have smelled good to me before, but usually I’m able to ignore it. With you… it’s like my vampire body can’t get enough of your scent. It wants to turn you, to keep you, in its selfishness. That part of me is weak, in its greed. And of course I couldn’t kill you, I could barely control myself when Chenle- when he-” Jaemin took a deep breath to steady himself. “He wanted to bite you. You smell good to our whole coven, to everyone who’s met you, at least, which is a first. Thankfully you don’t appeal to Jisung the same way you do to me though, because by now you’d be a full fledged member of the family. Jeno is really good at hiding it, but I could tell he wanted to drink from you too, when you used him to help you walk the other day. I think the only ones not affected by it are Lucas and Ten, although that could be because they’re both gay, I’m not sure.” As an afterthought, he added, “actually Lucas is demisexual but I’ve only ever seen him date guys.”

Skipping over the bit about Lucas’ sexuality, you spoke, horrified. “I’ve been hurting all of you? Seriously, why not just make me go to a regular hospital on Earth?”

“Well it would be a little hard to just give you to a hospital on Earth and be like, ‘here, take this body which may or may not have a vampire bite in its neck,’” Jaemin told you. “And also because I haven’t given up on a patient yet, and I didn’t want the first to be because I can’t control myself. And as to why I didn’t turn you… I didn’t want to take your life away. I still don’t. I think your life is going to be a good one and I don’t want to steal that. That’s why you’re going back tomorrow.”

An empty feeling settled in your chest. “You’re sending me back tomorrow? I still haven’t met so many of your friends though!”

He leveled you with a stare. “The rest of my patients never got to meet any other members of the coven. This was a one and done. You don’t need to know the rest of them. Especially not Yuta or Hyuck, good gracious.”

Who are Yuta and Hyuck? you wanted to ask, but his tone implied the end of the conversation, so you refrained from forming the question. “Okay, uh, I’m going to go sit in the garden.”

Jaemin flashed you a barely-there smile, opening his scrolls again and clicking his pen open. “Mhm. Be careful.”

You went out to sit under a tree in his front yard. Actually there were a lot of trees in his front yard - his house was in a forest. He had neglected to mention that when he first told you about his home and you had found it fascinating how it worked. When you walked out, there wasn’t any path out of the small clearing that housed his cottage. When you imagined a person, though, a tree tunnel would open and you could go any which way you wanted. You had tried imagining your parents the first time Jaemin told you about it and it hadn’t worked. He had explained that it only worked for people on this plane of existence, which made sense. When you had imagined Joy, it had shown you a way to a small town. Jaemin had forbidden you to go anywhere without him in case someone got territorial or hungry and killed you by accident. You respected that, you didn’t want to be murdered, but you wanted to see Lucas, and talk to him. He had fun stories to tell of his best friends. Jaemin seemed a bit huffy. It would be fine to go and see him, right? You’d just go and be back quickly before Jaemin even realized you were gone.

You decided that you just needed to talk to a friend right now and focused your mind on Lucas, finding an apartment building on the outskirts of the largest vampire city you had seen so far. With a little more effort you could find his apartment, although you couldn’t see him. The trees opened and you glanced back at Jaemin’s cottage before setting off.

As you walked down the path you reveled in your ability to walk. After two days of walking in short bursts and trying to regain strength in your legs you were finally able to walk like a normal human being, no flailing arms or stops every few meters to take a break and rest your muscles. It was nice, after so little freedom within Jaemin’s one room cabin. You liked being out here better. You avoided tree limbs and roots as you went, always focused on getting to Lucas. At one point your focus switched from his apartment to a convenience store and you panicked, realizing that you couldn’t go there. There, you might actually get murdered like Jaemin had predicted. He hadn’t nursed you back to health and struggled through your scent just for you to go and get yourself killed. You waited, walking more slowly, until the view at the end of the tunnel switched back to Lucas’ apartment’s front door. You breathed out a sigh of relief and continued on your way.

It was fascinating to you how there was no life in the forest besides the plants. You didn’t hear or see any insects or birds and you wondered if that was because they were afraid of the vampires or if they just didn’t exist on this plane. You decided to ask Lucas when you got to his house. After a while you realized that the image at the end of the tree tunnel was no longer a moving image of where you wanted to go, but rather the actual thing, growing bigger as you progressed down the path. You found yourself increasing your pace in your hurry to see Lucas.

When you left the comfort and relative safety of the forest, you nearly ran across the street separating the apartment complex from the trees. You stumbled at one point and almost fell to the pavement but recovered and kept going. You entered the main door and started up the stairs, still hurrying a little faster than your body thought was necessary. You speed walked until you reached the third floor and started looking through the numbers, looking for a door marked with ‘311,’ the one you had seen in the forest while looking for Lucas. After a good few minutes searching, you located the hallway his apartment was in and walked down it, looking at the odd numbers on the right. They counted down from 39, so you had a ways to go. Part of you wondered if the vampires just didn’t care about your presence, because apparently your scent was pretty strong and you were sure that you were stinking up the whole hallway with your human-ness, but nobody had come to murder you yet.

When you finally got to the door labeled with a faded ‘311,’ you stopped to take a breath before knocking on the door. An uncomfortable pause (where you wondered if Lucas was out after all) later, the door opened and you breathed out a sigh of relief, only for the air to stick in your throat at the sight of a man shorter than Lucas, but much scarier.

He had dark brown hair, obviously lightened but only a bit. It fell over his forehead and stopped just short of his eyes. His lips set in a grim line as he looked over you before they pulled back into what should have been a heart stopping smile, but was instead a snarl, a grimace of distrust and anger. The feature that stuck out most to you were his eyes. You imagined that when he was happy, his eyes would glow with an inner light. Now they were dark and they promised violence.

No sooner had you come to this conclusion before he had you pinned against the opposite wall. “Give me one good reason,” he hissed, “why I shouldn’t just kill you.” His arm pressed into your throat, keeping you pinned against the wall, on your tiptoes to accommodate the height of his arm.

Lucas, I came to see Lucas, you tried to say, but it got stuck on the way out of your throat and instead what came out was a weak, “Lu…” followed by a wispy groan. The man furrowed his brow and moved to hold you against the wall by your arms so you could speak. “Lucas,” you gasped, air rushing back into your body and allowing you to speak once more. “Friend.” The man put you completely down now, on the floor, and you moved to massage your throat before his eyes, dark and threatening, halted your movement. Lucas certainly has a knack for choosing friends, you thought.

“Don’t move,” he growled, “Or I’ll throw you out our living room window. It may not kill you, but it will hurt.” Then he turned around slightly and called, “Xuxi! There’s someone here to see you!”

You heard shuffling inside before the figure of Lucas appeared, tall and thick and seeming like safety incarnate in the presence of someone as terrifying as the man who still had one hand next to your head.

“Yang?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

The man, Yang, shifted so that Lucas could see your face. “This one just came knocking on our door and said he wanted to see you. Do you know her?”

Lucas gasped slightly and sped up, blurring a little, so that he reached you in less than a second. “Oh my gosh, Y/N, are you okay? Yangyang, this is the human that’s been staying with Jaemin for the past week, she’s my friend!”

“Hey Lucas,” you said weakly, finally reaching up to massage your throat now that you had someone to protect you from being thrown out the living room window. “I’m okay, I think. Just a little lightheaded.” Part of you wanted to add, Is his name Yang or Yangyang? but you figured now wasn’t the time to ask.

A strange look crossed Lucas’ face. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright, come inside and sit down, I’ll get you some water.” You followed him into the apartment, Yang (Yangyang?) behind you. He still slightly scared you and you stayed as close to Lucas as possible. Lucas spoke again as he grabbed a water bottle for you. You noted idly that it was Dasani. “But, uh, didn’t Jaemin tell you to, like, not come out here? So you didn’t get murdered? Cause that could’ve ended a lot worse.”

“Not you too!” you cried, exaggerating the syllables. “I know I could’ve died, but I wanted to see my friend! How hard is that to understand? Did it bother you so much that I wanted to see you?”

Lucas figited uncomfortably. “Well I appreciate that you came to see me, that’s really nice of you. It’s just that Jaemin was right. This really isn’t a safe place for you to be. I mean Yangyang could’ve killed you if he didn’t have such a heart of gold.” You threw a disbelieving glance towards the man in question and he shrugged, mouth tugging up in a mischievous grin.

“Okay, I mean, I can go back if you don’t want me here, I have to be back before Jaemin realizes I’m gone anyway,” you said, drinking more of your water. Yangyang and Lucas both froze.

“You didn’t get his permission?” Lucas asked in a tone that confused you. Was he scared of Jaemin? “Or tell him you were going for a walk? Or anything?”

“No, of course not. He would’ve said no!” you protested unhappily. This was not how you imagined this trip going.

“Okay,” Lucas said. “I’m taking you back right now. Jaemin will- well, he won’t kill me, but he’ll be scarily close if he finds out you came here.”

With a heavy sigh, you stood up. You knew that if he needed to, he could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you all the way back to Jaemin’s cottage. Darned vampire strength. “Fine.”

You got down the hallway and into the stairwell before Lucas tensed up again. “Shoot,” he muttered, looking down the stairs below. You couldn’t hear or see anything, and you were about to tell him so when he sighed and you heard a pitter patter like rain, growing louder by the second.

Moments later Jamin appeared in front of you, pink hair mussed and eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger. For a moment he didn’t even speak, just glared at you. The fear faded from his eyes. When he did speak, the words seemed like poison being spit off the tongue of a snake.

“I can’t believe you,” he seethed. “I kept you in my house, fed you, nursed you back to health. I let you use all of my things and was even going to send you home once you were perfectly healthy again. I gave you one rule. One! Just to keep you safe! And you go and break it. You could have died, Y/N, do you understand that? I did everything in my power to keep you in an environment where you weren’t in danger! I didn’t allow Hyuck to come over, I made sure that you were prepared to meet Lucas and Jeno and even Jisung! But all of my efforts faded to nothing when you opened that doorway to the city. I’m taking you home right now, I can’t bear to keep you here any longer, not when you obviously have no sense of self preservation!”

He picked you up before you could even blink and you felt a sharp wind on your face as he ran home. His steps sounded like raindrops falling on pavement, sharp but small, a pinprick of sound in an otherwise silent stairwell. Lucas had disappeared from view in less than a second and you shut your eyes against the vertigo of being carried at such a speed. Everything blurred, everything was indistinct and most things weren’t even worthy of notice. Jaemin smelled like ink, and you had space in the very back of your mind to wonder if he had spilled his, in his haste to find you. It didn’t seem like a very vampire-like thing to do.

A few moments later you entered the canopy of the forest and every once in a while you heard a stick break under his foot or a rock get catapulted out of the way. Then you felt the sun on your back again and you gasped as Jaemin dumped you onto the warm grass, standing tall before you. He said something in a language you didn’t know - it sounded vaguely like Latin - and the grass fell out from under you as the ground opened up and you fell into space.

☽༓☾

When you woke up the next morning to your alarm, you wondered briefly if your entire experience with Jaemin and the other vampires was a dream. The puncture wounds that had been on your neck were utterly nonexistent, and there was no evidence on you that you had even left the comfort of your bed. On the other hand, you had clear memories of your time in Vahmpyr, short as it was. You remembered how it smelled and how the trees had felt as you walked outside. You remembered the feeling of the cool granite of the bathroom countertop. Mostly you remembered being with Lucas, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle. You remembered almost dying at the hands of Lucas’ roommate and you remembered the terrifying flight in Jaemin’s arms.

Jaemin.

You grimaced at yourself in the mirror and spit out your toothpaste. There was no way your mind could have made up someone as excruciatingly kind and beautiful as Jaemin was. At the same time you felt anger bubble up inside of you. He hadn’t even given you a chance to say goodbye - he had just put you through to your Earthly self without any words between the two of you. You hadn’t said goodbye to Lucas or Jeno either, nor had you seen the rest of your new acquaintances. The anger flared, hot against your insides, and you could swear you actually felt your chest twinge. You spat out the last of your toothpaste and replaced your toothbrush in its holder, going to get ready for your day.

The next few days were spent alternately missing the simplicity of life on Vahmpyr and being angry at Jaemin. Assignments piled onto your shoulders and in addition to that, you discovered some sort of disconnect between you and the part of you that had stayed on Earth while you were out. That part of you seemed to dismiss your time in Vahmpyr as something it had dreamed up all on its own. It didn’t acknowledge you and liked to take control of your body whenever you weren’t paying full attention to it. Every time it did that you felt the twinge in your chest again, except it got more and more painful. You started having headaches that the other part of you didn’t seem to feel but which pressed against your skull like tiny war hammers thudding into the bone by your temples and occasionally your eyes.

Your vision would go blurry and you started having lapses of consciousness, only to wake up and find yourself doing just fine with your other part in charge. During these lapses you would dream of being in Vahmpyr again, and you saw Lucas smiling with Yangyang, Chenle rolling his eyes at Jisung before hugging him tightly. Other men you didn’t know and other women you hadn’t met also flew across the screen of your eyes but they disappeared quickly. Ten even passed by once, haughtily scrolling past everyone until he sidled up to a tall man with long blond hair who smiled down at him and pressed a gentle kiss to one of Ten’s tentacles. A man with red hair and an eyebrow slit served coffee to a man who chewed like a rabbit. A group of three guys held up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” as a group played football. A woman in a suit jacket over jean shorts sat with a box of papers, crying. Joy played a game with other girls where they tried to push lockers over on each other. Everything (with the exception of the lockers) looked like fun. It was better than Earth, at any rate. Every night you went to bed wondering if you might just die by morning and leave the other half of yourself behind to control the body. You were just along for the ride at this point.

The evening of your fourth day back on Earth you went to sit outside the dorm building on a bench, just for some fresh air. For once you had control of the body and you let your head tip back, closing your eyes and just feeling. The bench pressed up against your back in a way that hurt slightly, but your body had been wracked with pain for two days straight and it didn’t ache so much as behind your eyes or inside your skull. The evening breeze blew across your eyelids and brought with it the scent of sun-warmed dirt.

It smelled like Jaemin, that first morning you woke up in his house. When he had helped you across the cottage towards the bathroom and been outlined by the sun, when he had made you soup and sat with you on the couch while he explained where you were and what he was.

Your body shook with a particularly painful pound on the inside of your ribs. You let yourself relax against the bench again and the sensations enveloped you once more. You felt yourself let go of your body on Earth and float away, less falling and more weightlessness, floating away on a wind that smelled of sun on dirt and felt like arms wrapping around you while rain fell on summer-warmed pavement. You floated away on this wind and it lifted you endlessly until you nodded off, finally free of the pains that had kept you company for the past few days. You wondered if perhaps you had died of it, if being back on Earth had perhaps been more detrimental to you than beneficial.

Then your back hit something hard and the breath was knocked from your lungs, waking you up again and telling you that something had gone very very wrong or very very well. You gasped air back into your body and rolled over weakly, now in a body you recognized as the one you inhabited on Vahmpyr. Grass poked your inner arms and you pushed yourself up to sitting with your legs crossed. You massaged your chest as you inhaled and found yourself miraculously free of pain, aside from the slight burn of breath inhaled too quickly after loss of oxygen. The war hammers in your head had vacated the premises and the aches of your ribs had subsided, making it easier to breath and just sit without drawing in pained gasps.

You registered a return of cold as a shadow fell over you and looked up to see none other than Chenle, with Jisung behind him. Did they never go anywhere without each other? Well, besides hunting.

“Y/N?” He gaped down at you, and you looked back up at him.

“The one and only,” you said, before you realized that didn’t apply to you anymore. “Well, one of only two in existence.”

He laughed that weird dolphin laugh he had again and reached out a hand to help you up. You took it, standing unsteadily on two feet that didn’t ache the moment you put weight on them. “What’re you doing back here? Jaemin-hyung said he sent you back to Earth.”

You feel the corners of your mouth tug down almost instinctively at the mention of Jaemin. “He did. I don’t think Earth agreed with me,” you told him. Jisung walked forward and looked you up and down.

“Maybe we should take you back to Jaeminnie hyung, he’ll know what to do.”

You groaned. “I really don’t want to deal with him at the moment.”

“We can take him to Kun-ge,” Chenle interjected smoothly. “He’ll know better than Jaemin-hyung anyway, he’s been a doctor and a vampire longer.” A side of Chenle appeared that you hadn’t seen yet, a side that took charge in a way that wasn’t just insulting anyone near him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. He took your hand with one of his and grabbed Jisung’s arm with the other.

“Come on, let’s go see Kun-ge!”

☽༓☾

Kun, as it happened, lived in the same building as Lucas. Actually he lived one apartment over, behind the door labeled ‘313.’ When he opened the door he seemed strangely unsurprised to see you there, just breathed out a sigh and let you in. He had nice light brown hair that worked well with his skin tone and eyes that smiled even when he wasn’t. He had this aura of parenting around him, like he took care of everyone he knew. It was comfortable to be around him from the start. Once Chenle had explained where he found you, Kun sat you down and asked exactly what had happened.

“Listen,” he said seriously. “I’ve never seen a human react the way you did. Nobody has ever come back, from what I know. We have to figure out exactly what happened, why you came back, and how to get you back to Earth.”

You inhaled deeply, relishing in the painless breath. “Okay, uh, I’m not really sure where to start,” you told him.

“Tell me about how you got sent home.”

“Okay. So, I left Jaemin’s cottage to come and see Lucas and I guess Jaemin is a lot scarier when he gets mad, because he was not happy when he found out I had left. He did this, like, superfast running thing, very Twilight, and carried me to this random clearing, I guess, I didn’t look around much.” You paused to let Kun write that down on his very professional looking clipboard, but he waved you on. Right, he was a vampire. He could write stuff fast.

“So he sort of dumped me on the ground and said something in a language I didn’t know, it sounded like Latin but I’m not sure. Then the ground sort of opened up and I fell and fell and fell until I rejoined my, uh, Earthly body.” You paused to take a breath and think about how to convey what happened when you got back to Earth.

“When I got back there was this weird disconnect with my body. Like, uh, there was me, in my body, and there was also this other part of me, the part of me that stayed behind when I came here the first time. That other part sort of took the main control of the body we lived in, and it felt like I was along for the ride. It liked to pretend that I wasn’t there, that my time here in Vahmpyr wasn’t real. It was weird. Then a little into my stay, I started getting these super bad pains all over my body.”

Kun interrupted you by holding up a finger. “How long were you home before the pains started?”

You thought back, struggling to pinpoint when they had started. “I think maybe a little longer than twenty four hours? When I got back I woke up in that body, and about one sleep later I started getting the pains, which would be like twenty five hours. Twenty four and a half, maybe. At first it was just these weird twinges in my chest, like my ribs were popping every time I took a breath, then it progressed. I got these horrible headaches, and my chest hurt all the time, and walking felt like attacking my feet, and my neck was always super achy. The thing is, my other half didn’t feel any of that. It was just my half of our consciousness. Then about on my fourth day back I went outside and sat on the bench outside my dorm. I laid back and, uh, it felt like I died or something. I just felt my consciousness leave the body and I guess the other half is still there living down there and now I’m here.”

Kun, Chenle, and Jisung all sat on the couch together, Kun looking over his notes while the other two guys just sat in silence. After a minute Kun spoke. “I don’t really know what happened to you, but I’m almost certain that your connection to your human self is gone. Or at least, your Earthly self. I don’t think we can send you back anymore, I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes full of remorse. You expected to mirror that feeling, but you discovered that it didn’t bother you so much. The other half of yourself would keep all of your friends and family from having to mourn you, and you could stay here, painless.

“I’m actually kind of glad about that,” you told them, and Chenle’s head snapped from picking at his jeans to look at you.

“Glad?” he demanded, incredulous. “To stay here?”

“Well yeah, I mean I was in pain most of the time I was back on Earth so it’s not like I’m eager to go back there. Plus, since I didn’t actually die nobody has to mourn me. And part of the time I was like… seeing Vahmpyr. Like is Ten dating this super tall guy with blonde hair? And Joy was pushing lockers over on her friends? And you two!” You turned an accusatory finger at Jisung and Chenle. “You two are adorable together!”

Jisung sighed. “Not you too…”

Kun shushed him. “You could see what was going on here in Vahmpyr?”

“Well, sort of,” you told him. “I saw that Lucas and Yangyang were having, like, a picnic?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed and he muttered, “I knew they had one without me.”

“I also saw this guy with red hair giving coffee to a man who sort of chewed like a bunny. And there was this group of three guys holding up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” I think, and I guess Taemin must have been playing football with the others I could see, although I couldn’t recognize any of the people playing. Oh, and there was this lady with really pretty hair who had a box of papers and she was just, like, sitting there and crying. She had the part of her hair near her neck bleached and the outer layers were still black, and she was wearing a suit jacket with jean shorts, which is kind of a weird combination.”

Kun looked over his notes. “That’s really interesting. All of those things have happened since you left, definitely. Joy and her friends like to play games where they try to kill each other, because they’re all immortal. The red haired man was probably Taeyong, and the bunny man would be Doyoung. Ten is dating Johnny, and yes, he is pretty tall and has blonde hair. I haven’t seen Taemin-hyung in a while so I don’t know if he’s playing football again or not. I don’t know about the woman with the cool hair either.”

“Definitely Taeyeon-noona,” Jisung interjected. “She broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago, and she does have hair dyed like that right now.”

Kun raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Huh, I hope she’s doing okay. Actually I think maybe we should worry more about whoever she broke up with, she’s not exactly good with breakups.”

As though it’s a secret, Jisung’s next words came out in a whisper, and he leaned closer to Chenle and Kun. You had to strain a little to hear. “I heard it was a human. He, like, got super insecure about the fact that she wasn’t aging with him and broke up with her. It’s killing her. She really liked that guy.”

“Why did she get with him in the first place?” Chenle sounded absolutely confused. “She knew it would end like this. That’s how the last two ended.”

“I don’t know, but now I’m really worried for the guy,” said Kun. “We might have to cover up for her.” The implications of his words sank in and you made a small sound. All three men snapped their heads up and it looked as though they forgot you were there.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry Y/N! Do you have anywhere to stay where you’ll be safe for at least a few days? Jaemin’s cottage should be pretty easy to stay hidden in.”

“She doesn’t want to go and see him after what happened,” Chenle supplied helpfully. “I’m taking her back to my place once we’re done here.” Kun appeared to consider that, and then nodded his approval.

“That sounds alright. Tomorrow we can go out and get her some things to make her stay more comfortable. Maybe we can find one of the Outer Plots to put her on.”

“Outer Plots?” you asked, because the way he said it demanded capitalization in your head.

“They’re sort of exactly what they sound like,” Kun explained. “There are these pieces of land around the edges of the towns that nobody really lives on but they’re solid places to live, if we can get a good one. It’s a little bit like Jaemin’s land out there, lot’s of forest, so we can set up tree tunnels for you to get here fast, if you need to.”

You nodded. “That does sound pretty good. I don’t know what I’m going to do though, it’s not like I have all that many hobbies. I was midway through getting my bachelor’s when I left.”

“That’s fine,” Chenle said. “I have plenty of things to keep you entertained, and we can get some of the other guys to keep you company if we’re busy. There are a lot of us with a lot of open time. I also have a ton of extra textbooks from learning languages, so if you want you can spend your life becoming fluent in Japanese, Latin, French, German, Scottish Gaelic, Hawaiian, or one of the others I have. Or multiple, if you learn fast.”

“Thanks Chenle.” He wasn’t actually so bad, you thought. He had brought you to Kun and he was offering to let you use his house and his things. “I might just take you up on that.”

“You guys should probably leave now, actually,” Kun said. “At human speeds you’ll get home right on time.”

Chenle checked his watch and nodded. “He’s right. We should get going.”

You thanked Kun again and Chenle led you out the door, Jisung following behind you. You separated ways with him once you left the apartment building, his figure disappearing swiftly into the trees. Once you blinked there was no finding him again.

You walked behind Chenle quietly, choosing to observe your surroundings. You didn’t see much in the way of low quality or old houses here. It seemed as though a lower class had been eradicated entirely and the vampires could choose where they wanted to live. When you asked him how that was possible, Chenle laughed that peculiar screech of his and said, “when you’re reborn into a family of beings that has been around for millenia, you accumulate some shared wealth. Especially when some of the coven members have doctorate degrees and work on Earth full time, and some of us had familial connections as well, like money left in wills and such.”

You nodded. “So you guys are basically like the elite class of the universe.”

“Pretty much. My house is probably the biggest you’ll ever be in, because I like to splurge a little bit. Unfortunately you might get lost, though, and if you do, just call for me. I’ll make sure to be listening all night in case you need me.”

“It’s that big?” you asked in disbelief. “Do you live in Buckingham Palace?”

He grinned, showing off his incisors. “Bigger.”

“And you live alone?”

“Well, I haven’t always. Jisung and I will probably have sleepovers for all of eternity, and whenever a new coven starts they stay with me for a few days while they get their own living quarters set up, but for the most part , yes. I don’t actually spend a ton of time in the house, it’s more just for the sensation of owning a building that large.”

You shook your head. “As a broke college student, I find that completely unfair. I was working two jobs just to keep my head above water and you’re on this alternate plane just chilling in your house that’s bigger than Buckingham Palace.”

He smiled again. “Nobody said life was fair, Y/N. Nobody.”

☽༓☾

Three days and a shocking amount of Gaelic verbs later (you only got lost in Chenle’s palace four times), a house was ready for you to move in. Johnny and Ten had furnished it for you, and Chenle had explained that the two of them were the stylists of the coven, for the most part. The mysterious Yuta had also taken part in finding high quality fabrics to fit their vision. You had thanked the whole group of vampires who helped with the house profusely for not only building said house, but also for getting you a bunch of comfortable furniture. They had smiled and said it was their pleasure and all of the typical things, but what really stood out was Ten’s reaction. He had barely paid attention to you - he barely paid attention to anyone besides Johnny and Yangyang, who he called their baby - this whole time. When you had thanked him, however, he wrapped all but four of his tentacles around you in a surprisingly dry hug.

“It’s refreshing to have you around,” he had told you. “I’m glad we could help you get settled.”

Later as you reflected on it, you figured that it probably got pretty boring to know what was going to happen all of the time, and maybe you had disrupted the usual happenings of his visions and the vampires in Vahmpyr. Maybe you made other people happy too, to have a new person around.

One person who didn’t seem thrilled to have you back was Jaemin. Every time you made eye contact with him (twice, over the three days), he grimaced and turned away like the sight of you hurt him. Maybe he was mad that you were back within scenting range. He wouldn’t get near you, so it wasn’t like you could ask.

While settling into your new normal, you discovered that Chenle was actually a good friend. His love language was insults and pointed jabs, but he actually did care for his friends quite a lot. He had watched Jaemin from across your front yard as they were laying down grass seed and sighed.

“I wish he would just talk to you,” he told you sadly. “I’ve never, in all our years together, seen him like this. I’m not sure anyone has, even Taeil-hyung.” He didn’t elaborate on who Taeil was, and you didn’t press him. Was Jaemin really so mad that he couldn’t even look at you?

“Well,” you had said, “I don’t want to talk to him. He dumped me through an interplanar tunnel without warning me and yelled at me like the world was ending when I took a walk. I don’t think there’s much to be talked about. He must hate me.” Over Chenle’s shoulder, you had seen Jaemin flinch slightly. How strange. Part of you hoped that he felt the same pain that you did, a sort of ache that told you that you were unwanted. Another part of you murmured quietly in the back of your mind that you were being petty. You had chosen to ignore it for the time being. You were being petty, but so was he. He had thousands of years on you, so he should be the mature one, right?

“I don’t think he hates you. I think you both need to grow up and talk like adults,” Chenle had said flatly, orange hair seeming to flash in the sun. Jaemin sort of curled in on himself.

“Tell that to Mister Millenia before you lecture me on growing up,” you had replied. Then you reopened your Gaelic textbook and pretended to bury yourself in it, blatantly ignoring Chenle’s judgemental gaze.

“Fine,” he had muttered angrily. “You can both suffer for all I care.” Then he had stalked off and started pounding fence posts into the dirt so hard that Jeno had to tell him to take a break before he broke them.

You found yourself thinking about that moment as you walked through the trees, ironically on your way to see Jaemin. Since you had close to nothing to do , you had offered yourself up as an errand person to anyone that would hire and found yourself working for Kun running scrolls across Vahmpyr while he translated and examined them. It kept you busy and in shape, and Kun seemed happy with your service. This morning he had sent you to get the Scottish scroll back from Jaemin, along with a few other documents to pick up and drop off. You had saved this one for last, procrastinating on having to see him again. As his cottage came into full view, you sighed, preparing yourself for a cold shoulder and a very quick visit.

“Jaemin?” you called, knocking on the front door. It was closed for once, usually he kept it open for better air circulation. A moment later the door opened and there he stood, in all his cotton candy colored glory.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?”

“Kun sent me, he wants that Scottish scroll back. He said he hopes you’re done translating it since you’re had it for a few weeks now,” you replied, willing your voice to stay professional. You were here for the scroll. When Jaemin didn’t reply, you looked up at him. “So? Where is it?”

“I don’t know why he sent you out like this, but I sent that scroll back three days ago, on our agreed upon date. I know he got it, because he sent me back a thank you with those little stickers he likes to use.”

“Oh. Um, I’ll just go then,” you muttered, turning around as you spoke. “Sorry I bothered you.”

Suddenly a hand was wrapped around your own, keeping you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, remembering the last time that had happened with a vampire. All that came out of Jaemin’s mouth, however, was, “Can I talk to you? Please?”

“Jaemin, please let me go,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. His hand released you immediately and you stepped a pace away from him and turned around so that you could see his face. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, uh, do you want some tea? I have some inside…” It was clear he hadn’t expected you to actually agree and he needed to collect his thoughts, so you nodded and he led you inside, sitting you on the familiar couch while he busied himself in the kitchen.

“I actually wanted to apologize,” Jaemin said after a minute. “I worried so much about protecting you that I forgot to let you enjoy your time here. It scared me how good you were at adjusting to this world, how much you liked being with Lucas and my other friends… I’m not used to humans reacting positively.” The kettle whistled and he took a moment to pour water into the mugs, steam rising gently from them in silvery whisps.

Once he poured the water, he continued speaking. “I wanted to make sure you knew that it wasn’t all fun and games here. I didn't want you to go looking for a place in our community because I was worried that you’d get killed. Vampires are pretty possessive of their property on Vahmpyr, for the most part, and you went right into one of the biggest apartment complexes within a day’s travelling distance - and that’s vampire distance, not human distance. Lucas told me about what happened with Yangyang, and I almost tore Yang’s arm off, I was so mad. He could have actually murdered you, and I couldn’t stomach the thought. What if Lucas hadn’t been home? What if Yangyang hadn’t given you that one moment to explain yourself? What if you had met another one of us on the stairs, without any protection? It terrified me to consider.” He walked over, a mug carried in each hand, and sat on the couch, leaving a large space in between you. It was strangely reminiscent of that first day, when he had explained Vahmpyr to you over soup.

“Of course,” Jaemin started, and you refocused. “That was only after I had sent you home, that he told me about that. When I dumped you in that tunnel, it was just fear of you being unsafe that made me so mad. The fact that you would willingly put yourself in danger, when I valued you so highly? Inconceivable. And yet, it happened. So I made another big mistake: I sent you home. I thought you would be better off there, regardless of what was happening. I knew you were healthy enough to walk to the city, so I thought you were fine. Apparently not. I heard from Chenle and Kun what happened to you back on Earth and it broke another part of me apart. I hurt you, in sending you back, not just in temporary emotional pain, but in physical pain that persisted through your entire stay. We still don’t know why you reacted the way you did, but it scared me to hear of it. I had made yet another mistake that could have killed you.” He paused to take a sip of his tea, and you did too. It was pleasant, not too hot and not too cold, just warming up your insides.

“Then the last straw came when you said I must hate you…” Jaemin’s voice broke slightly. “If anything, it’s the exact opposite, I realized I missed you more than I should, given you should be just a patient. I wanted to hug you the second I saw you, but you looked so mad to see me that I couldn’t do it. I was literally building a house for you and still couldn’t look you in the eyes for more than a moment. So I went home in shame, knowing that you were right, with thousands of years under my belt, I should be the more mature one. I decided that the next time I saw you, I would talk to you, no matter the circumstances. I couldn’t have you keep living thinking that I hated you. I didn’t actually expect you to come in when I asked. I thought I’d have to follow you through the woods, honestly.”

He fell silent, took another sip of his tea, and for the first time, you spoke. “I really didn’t want to talk to you. I wanted you to realize how much I hurt from your actions, but I think maybe I took that a little too far. I knew you were protecting me, but I really wanted to see somebody, and I knew you wouldn’t let me out, so I ran away. I didn’t really know what I was getting into. I probably should have asked you to accompany me, at least. Not my finest moment.”

Jaemin laughed weakly, taking another sip of tea. “Not mine either. I should have trusted you more.”

“And I shouldn’t have run off without even asking for your help..”

He smiled at you, that gorgeous little smile that made your heart smile back.

“Friends?” you asked.

He hesitated for only a moment, a strange sort of disappointment flashing across his face, before he was extending his hand to meet yours. “Friends.”

You grinned at him, finishing your tea. “Great. Now I need to go yell at Kun for sending me out to see you when I didn’t need to.”

“Isn’t it good that he did?” Jaemin asked with a confused frown on his face.

“Well yes, but it was a very Cupid-like thing to do, wasn’t it? I don’t tolerate my friends trying to play Cupid with myself and my other friends.” You stood up and walked your empty tea cup to the kitchen. “Do you want to come?”

He laughed. “No, you can just tell me all about it tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

You walked out into the cool twilight and started going towards Kun’s house. He had a big storm coming.

☽༓☾

A few days later, you were sitting in Jaemin’s cottage again, Gaelic textbook open on your lap. Since he was close to fluent in the language, he was helping you learn it. It wasn’t an extraordinarily difficult language, but some of the words were hard to pronounce and he had been eager to help you.

“Look here,” he said, pointing at some words on the page. “Say this for me.”

“Tha gaol agam ort,” you replied. He grinned.

“That’s how it’s written, but not how it’s said. Okay, now listen to me pronounce it. ‘Ha geul akeum orsht’. Repeat that for me.”

“‘Ha geul akeum orsht’? That’s how you say that?” you demanded. “This is like French! They don’t spell things anywhere close to how they’re said!”

“Unfortunately, most languages don’t. The same goes for Korean verb conjugations and English words and, yes, French everything, but it’s just learning new rules. After a while you understand it. I promise that you’ll get it eventually. You have the rest of your life.”

You looked over at him suddenly, questions rising to the forefront over Gaelic words. “Am I really going to stay here forever? Am I never going to see Earth again, just sit here as a useless human surrounded by powerful and immortal vampires, until I die?”

He seemed surprised by the questions. “I’m not sure any of us had really thought about it,” he said carefully.

“You all had just accepted the fact that I was stuck on your plane of existence with nothing worth doing to do? When am I going to use Scottish Gaelic, Jaemin? When will this actually come in handy, except to distract me? I’m here to do nothing, and the moment I go back to Earth, I start suffering. What am I meant to do here, Jaem?”

Jaemin gently lifted the textbook from your lap and put in on his coffee table, then pulled you into his side for a hug. You snuggled into him, inhaling the scent of sunshine and warm earth. Comfort.

“I don’t know exactly how to make you feel better,” Jaemin murmured from somewhere above your head. “But we all like having you around, you know that. It’s nice to have someone young around. We haven’t turned a human in about thirty years, so the novelty has worn off, and here we have this beautiful creature who is new in so many ways. You’re refreshing, and you’re human, so you’ll continue to be refreshing.”

“Well, thank you,” you said, muffled in his side. “But still, I don’t feel like I have anything worth doing here. You can all do anything I can do, just ten times faster. I have no unique skills or brains or anything. So what am I meant to do? I can’t even go spy on the other humans or anything because I can’t go back to Earth!”

Jaemin shifted you a little bit in his arms and started rubbing your shoulder softly. “Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing? Maybe you could do art, or gardening? Or I have this book of old forms of witchcraft?”

You turned to face him. “You have a book of witchcraft sitting around?”

He released you and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I found a papyrus scroll in this ruined Egyptian city, and I kept it just ‘cause it was cool. Then I learned hieroglyphics so that I could translate it and made a copy. Unfortunately, witchcraft is… not my strong suit, and I’m somewhat afraid of giving it away in case I never see it again. I spent a lot of time and energy on that translation.”

“And you want me to use it?” you asked, confused. Why on earth would he give it to you if he didn’t trust the perfectly composed vampires around him? “I mean it sounds super cool, but aren’t you worried about it being in my hands? I am a human, after all.”

“Well-”

Jaemin was cut off at that moment by a sharp knock on the door. At least, you assumed it was a knock, it sounded a little bit more like a wet thwap than a knock. Jaemin blurred slightly as he ran over to the door and opened it, revealing cloudy skies dropping rain onto a harried-looking Ten.

“Ten-hyung?” he asked, sounding as confused as you felt. “I’d say this is a nice surprise, but why are you here? I thought today was your Earth day? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Ten said, gasping slightly as he spoke. “I ran straight here from the Pacific.” You took a second to think about the fact that Ten was swimming in the Pacific Ocean before refocusing on him. “-future just completely shifted, a few minutes ago. Y/N-” He turned to face you completely. “Whatever you two just did, it caused you to become a vampire in the future.”

“But we were just talking?” you told him, confused. “It wasn’t like Jaem was about to bite me.” You turned to Jaemin. “Right?”

He looked at you solemnly. “If you were going to have been bitten by me, it would have already happened. Ten-hyung, are you sure that she’s a vampire in your future? Can you see more details?”

Ten closed his eyes briefly like he was trying to focus, and in the meantime a tentacle wrung the salt and rain water out of his hair. Jaemin wrinkled his nose at the growing puddle. Ten spoke, eyes fluttering open slowly. “In the parts I can see, she’s covered in this, like, tree? It’s a little bit fuzzy. It’s green, and looks like it has brown splotches like branches. Maybe a tree falls on her or something. Anyway, you take one look at him and bite her. She goes limp... After that? Fuzzy scenes of her waking up and you taking her running. Like, really running. Vampire running.”

Jaemin took a shaky breath. “Okay, I don’t know why our conversation would have caused a tree to fall on her in the future. We were talking about, like, Earth and art and stuff. Oh, and my witchcraft book.”

Ten’s eyes refocused on him, narrowing slightly. “You’re going to give her your witchcraft book after not letting me touch it? That’s a little underhanded.” His eyes narrow briefly before looking at you. “But maybe that’s it. You’ll just have to make sure that she doesn’t practice any witchcraft under the cover of trees. Otherwise I think you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks Ten,” you murmured. “For warning us and stuff.”

“Of course. Now I need to go back to the Pacific. Ta ta!” Ten waved to you and walked out the door.

“Well,” Jaemin said, “that’s some news, huh?”

“Yeah. Do you think that it’s okay for me to practice witchcraft with this in my future?”

“I do. I think you’ll be fine. We’ll keep you as safe as we possibly can, and if you become a vampire… at least it won’t be because I gave in. I’ll still be strong.”

“Jaem, I don’t think that was ever in question.”

“It was for me.” His voice went dark momentarily, then he brightened up again. “At any rate, I think we can safely teach you some things that’ll keep life interesting.”

You grinned. “Then let’s get started.”

☽༓☾

You were surprised at how easily witchcraft came to you, in the beginning. Jaemin insisted that you had some sort of gift with it, and as much as you told him that was silly, it seemed possible. You could easily understand instructions on Jaemin’s careful translations that even he couldn’t decipher. You gave up on Gaelic after a while, focused more on learning the original Egyptian Hieroglyphs of the spells and potions. You trusted Jaemin’s precise translation, but there was something unique about seeing an instruction in a new language and being able to understand it.

Days turned to weeks as you experimented with the materials growing in and around Vahmpyr. Taeil, who you eventually met, turned out to be a valuable resource. He was an avid collector of ancient written works, including but not limited to an original Greek copy of The Odyssey, Chinese bamboo books saved from the book burnings of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, and an exact replica of the Rosetta Stone. Taeil must have been ancient himself to have all of these valuables, but he still had the energy of the far younger members of their coven, which amazed you. He showed you different specialties of different cultures within witchcraft, ideas born from scrolls and tablets, bamboo strips and wax blocks. It was far more information than you could ever decipher or use during your short human life, but every day you got better, starting out small with poultices that you had to injure yourself to try and ward spells that exhausted you but could make your home more secure than any in Vahmpyr (or on Earth).

At one point Chenle gifted you a book covered in old stains and strangely familiar drawings that you started to use before abruptly realizing that it was an old chemistry textbook. You invited him over that afternoon and whacked him over the head with the thick pages. He told you with a disgruntled look that he put a lot of effort into that, thank you very much. And besides, chemistry was a magic in itself. (His words, not yours.) After that you made sure to thoroughly inspect any gifts you received from the more mischievous family members.

Lucas came over and helped you set up more complicated equipment that you couldn’t lift, like a big cauldron, which you actually did use on the regular after you learned how to use it, and after some consideration you set up a chemistry station for the odd experiment. At this point your house was more magical items than actual living space, something that Kun was quick to point out when he came over.

“You know, you should really be more careful about having all of these powders and dusts and-” He cut himself off with a distasteful wrinkle of his nose. “Things.” He pursed his lips, looking at you. “We don’t really know what these things will do to you in the long run. You have to be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded distractedly, making his coffee and a drink for yourself. “Maybe I’ll clean it all up sometime, but you know I’m awfully busy these days.” You used a spoon to stir in the milk and sugar, tapping the metal against the china in a soft clink.

He sighed tiredly. “Your health is less important than staying busy?”

You gave him a look that you hoped conveyed your need to stay busy, to continuously learn and improve. “Keeping my schedule full keeps me healthy, Kun. At least mentally.”

Kun didn’t look impressed by your reasoning. “I think your mental health will go down pretty quickly if you get sick and can’t do anything because you’re stuck in bed twenty-four-seven.”

You gave a sigh of your own at that. “And as always,” you announced to the room at large, “Doctor Kun gives amazing advice that I shouldn’t ignore but probably will.”

Y/n,” he said in a warning tone. “Seriously. You need to be careful! No human has ever lived here for so long, and I worry about you catching some mysterious illness that nobody has ever heard of!”

“Kun, I will do my best to keep myself healthy. I’ve put every kind of ward that I can around my house to protect me, I have magically circulated and cleaned air, I have literal superhumans to protect me from anything else, and I’m happy here! I finally have something to contribute. Maybe someday I’ll find some concoction or enchantment that will let me visit Earth, even. I just don’t know. But I’m going to keep trying.”

He took his coffee out of your grasp and walked back into the living room, which housed your indoor plants, magical and earthly. “That’s all I can ask,” he said, voice betraying his disappointment in that fact. “I’ll still give you monthly checkups for a while though, just to make sure.

“Can’t Jaemin take care of me?” you asked, thinking of Jaemin with his warm smile and caring words and the smell of sun on dirt and- well. Jaemin felt like safety in a person. Kun was wonderful, but Jaemin was just that little bit better, that little bit more comfortable to be around.

“He could,” Kun replied after taking a sip of coffee. “But I know he’s been busy lately though, he’s been on Earth for a few days checking on all of his businesses and stocks and his human personas. On the other hand, I hardly go back to Earth for more than a twelve hour shift here and there.”

“I understand.”

“Plus, I’m about two thousand years older than Jaemin, I have a lot of experience.”

“How old are you?” Two thousand years older than Jaemin would make Kun… pretty darn old.

Kun grinned. “I was around before and after Jesus came to Earth. I was around before the Terracotta Army was built. I was born in China circa when the Hanging Gardens of Babylon are said to have been built. Taeil-hyung turned me into a vampire when I was twenty five, and I’ve been twenty five ever since. None of us know when he was born. When you’re as old as he is, even with a vampire’s memory, history starts to blend together. He says he remembers the Pyramids at Giza going up, though, and that was after he had been a vampire for what he thinks was a few hundred years. He’s literally prehistoric.”

“Wow,” was all you could think to say. No wonder Taeil had so many artifacts. He was one. Kun was too, for that matter. And Jaemin… Jaemin would have been born AD, but how far into it? You asked Kun this question and he chuckled.

“Jaemin was born in fourteen forty two. He was twenty when Jeno turned him, and he’s still twenty, five hundred years later.”

“Who turned Taeil, then? I can hardly imagine a vampire older than him, even.”

“We’re not sure. Whoever it was is so unimaginably old now that even I can’t comprehend it. But whoever the original vampire was must have turned a whole lot of people. There are dozens more vampires just within our small community, and an entire plane full of them. From what I can tell, Taeil isn’t even the oldest. There’s this man who lives in the mountains by himself, and from what I hear, he hasn’t been seen by another vampire in nearly three thousand years. He’s almost a myth around here anymore. Taeil knew him back when Vahmpyr was sparsely populated, and he told us that the man - his name is Jinyoung Park - is older than him by so many years that he is to Taeil as Taeil is to me. He probably lived before Mesopotamia existed, even, or was right at the beginning of it. Before him, we have no idea who the first vampire was. If that vampire is still alive, he she or they hasn't been seen since, well, before living memory. If they still exist that would mean that vampires have been around since before modern humanity. I really wish we knew.”

“I wish you knew too,” you breathed. You had never really considered that immortality meant that the same vampires who existed before the Pyramids at Giza still lived among humanity today. It was mind boggling. The history in just their brains alone could fill thousands of textbooks and solve history’s greatest mysteries. But they couldn’t show themselves to the humans without risk. Even the people that they bit and sent back to Earth wouldn’t dare talk about their experiences, for fear of sounding crazy. Their gift to the world would never be wrapped up in gold tissue paper and presented with the proper awe, but here you were, in this modern metropolis of history. It truly hurt your brain to consider everything that came with that sort of age.

Just then a yell came from outside. “Kun-ge! Are you with Y/N?!” It sounded suspiciously like a panicked Yangyang. He never got panicked.

Kun stood up and hurried over to the front door, blurring in his hurry. “What happened?” he demanded.

“Well, uh, we may or may not have set Yuta’s house on fire…” Yangyang’s voice trailed off as Kun’s face reacted. First his eyebrows raised, then his mouth dropped open, and finally his eyes squeezed shut before reopening after a moment.

“You did what?”

Yangyang’s voice was small. “We set Yuta’s house on fire?” His voice was so high and squeaky that it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, and Hyuck, and Taemin-hyung.”

“Oh my,” Kun said, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “I am going to murder Taemin-hyung.” He turned to Yangyang. “I might murder you and Donghyuck too.”

“We didn’t mean to,” Yangyang said. “It just happened.”

“You didn’t mean to set Yuta’s house on fire? How do you accidentally set someone’s house on fire?”

“You put on an impromptu fire show right next to the house, mess up a trick, and accidentally throw a flaming baton on their house. It was surprisingly easy. Anyway, I know that you would know what to do. You and Y/N both.”

Kun ran his hand through his hair again. You watched as a few light brown strands flew to the carpet with the force of it. “Y/N, do you have anything for flaming houses?”

You looked around your living room as though that would help you remember whether you did or not. “I think so, let me check my storage room,” you muttered, already dashing away. You did, in fact, have something that you loosely translated from the Egyptian spell scroll as “Fire Away Goop,” or something similar. It was a green, nearly transparent goop that sloshed in its bottle but it was too thick to really flow. It oozed more than anything. When it hit heat, it tended to solidify into a more solid green that would be easily removable from Yuta’s house, if said house was still there by the time you got to wherever it was. You grabbed the bottle and rushed back to the living room, panting. Kun turned to you.

“Is it okay if I carry you, to make sure we get there in time?”

“Won’t I be too heavy?”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “We’re literally the strongest things known to man. I’ll be fine.”

“Then sure. Let’s go save Yuta’s house!”

Kun carried you piggyback as fast as he could, your face tucked into his shoulder to avert most of the vertigo induced by such high speeds. Trees flashed by in browns and greens, and then you were going through the city, past the city, through more trees, in a rush that you couldn’t quite comprehend but which caused a sinking feeling to settle in your gut. Yuta’s house was far away. By the time you got there, the house was fully consumed by the flames, the fire burning merrily without knowledge that it was ruining a man’s home.

A man, presumably Yuta, stood out front, another man on his knees next to him. Once you were next to them, you realized that the standing man had the kneeling man’s ear in a tight grip. You figured that the man on his knees must have been the infamous Donghyuck.

“Yuta-hyung, Hyuck,” Kun greeted them as he set you on the ground.

“Yangyang,” said Yuta, turning around, “You’re a bit late.” He nodded at you and Kun in acknowledgement, as Donghyuck yelped at the tug on his ear. Yuta had black hair streaked through with neon green, and it framed a narrow face and startlingly pink lips. You wondered, in the back of your head, if he used lip tint. You also briefly entertained the idea that he contoured his face, because there was no way that he looked that good without makeup. He’s a vampire, your consciousness provided. All of them look that good.

“Sorry hyung,” Yangyang murmured. “We came as fast as we could!”

Kun stepped forward. “We brought Y/N, as you can see, and she has something to put the fire out.” Something like hope sparked in Yuta’s eyes as he looked over you again, taking in details of your appearance.

“Do you really? Well, go ahead.” He gestured to the house and the flames danced in your face, leaving you to hope that this gloop worked for fires this big. You took a deep breath and poured the goop onto the grass, where it oozed between the blades of grass like a big blob of snot on the lawn.

“Atlaq alnaar,” you murmured to it, and it rose into the air, following your mental directions toward the fire. The moment they made contact, the goop started to solidify and expand, covering the fire rapidly. Green overtook bright reds and oranges as you focused on the fire and made the goop cover it.

“Y/N!” Someone was calling to you, their voice out of focus as though you heard them from underwater. “You’ll get covered!” You were vaguely aware of a hand trying to lead you away, but the spell kept you rooted in place, your feet seemingly super glued to the lawn. You kept focus on the fire as the last flames were overtaken and put out. Yuta’s house was now a giant green blob. From what you could see through the jello-like goop, it had sustained a minimal amount of damage considering the amount of flames you had seen. You were so engrossed in the green substance that you missed the warning signs before it swallowed you up too, ever expanding.

It took your outstretched hands first, pulling you forward into it. Through your panic you had just enough brain power left to be amazed at how thick it was before your feet and legs were covered too, nearly encased in the goop. You leaned your head back as far as you could, trying to keep yourself in the open air, but the goop kept expanding. You felt more than saw the vampires try to dig you out, but while the spell still fueled it, the goop was surprisingly strong. A hand grasped your elbow as the goop grasped your neck and chin, keeping you completely still as it covered more of you. The hand let go. It couldn’t do anything now.

You took a deep breath just before the goop covered your mouth, nose, and eyes. You thought you felt something on the back of your neck but didn’t think much of it until it started burning. Any strength you had left crumbled as your eyes started stinging and your oxygen ran out. You couldn't see, but it felt as though the world was spinning around you, as though you had been disconnected from everything but the pain. Even through your lightheadedness the pain persisted. It had spread now, from your neck over your shoulders like the creeping vines on the back wall of Jaemin’s cottage.

Jaemin.

You realized through your hazy thoughts that you would never see him again. Your eyes and nose burned now, from tears you couldn’t cry and the pain slowly enveloping you.

You couldn’t hold on any longer.

Black.

☽༓☾

Across a forest and a small town, Jaemin was working on his Hindi pronunciation when Ten burst into his home for the second time in what seemed like a very short period. He wasn’t dripping this time, just looked thoroughly terrified of something.

“Jaemin! She needs help!”

“What? Who?” Jaemin stood up and walked over to his friend. Ten’s tentacles curled and uncurled repeatedly as he spoke.

“Y/N! The vision got sharper, which usually means it’s happening. The green blob wasn’t a tree, it was some sort of spell! She’s going to die if we don’t get there fast.”

“Where are we going?” Jaemin demanded as they ran through the trees around his cabin.

“Yuta’s house. Or, at least, where it used to be.”

“What happened to Yuta’s house?”

“Yangyang and Hyuck burned it down.”

“Ah.”

Ten was panting as he continued speaking. “I think that must be what the spell was for. Some sort of fire putter-outer.”

Jaemin tried to think back to all of the books he had given you, recalling a spell that sounded suspiciously like what Ten described. “If the one I think you’re talking about is the spell she used,” he told Ten, “we might not be able to save her by the time we get there.” A pang echoed through his chest. An empty feeling, as though your small human life had affected his own so strongly as to make him miss you without knowing that you were gone. Jaemin ran on, leaving Ten behind when he paused to rest, sprinting at his highest speed towards where you were.

When he arrived on Yuta’s plot, most of his vision turned green, not because things were actually green, but from the sheer size of the lime coloured stuff all over Yuta’s house. He had been correct when he guessed at which spell you had used. His gaze fell on Kun, Yangyang, Yuta, and Donghyuck, who stood at the still-expanding base of the blob, seemingly trying to get something out. He gasped. You were in the thing. He ran up and tried to help the others dig you out, to no avail. They couldn't do anything against the spell so long as you were alive, and he wasn’t about to kill the person he had worked so hard to protect. He tried to hold onto your elbow as it was swallowed, but was afraid of hurting you. They all watched as you took a deep breath and the gloop covered your face.

Jaemin slumped, out of ideas. There was no way to save you that he knew of. Then he thought back to Ten’s vision. He had to change you. It was the only way. You wouldn’t need to breathe, wouldn’t need to do anything. You could still be here with him. It was with that in mind that he lunged forward at the last moment and latched onto your neck, stretching his jar as wide as it would go. His fangs, already dripping uncomfortably with venom in your presence, sank into your veins, and he felt it as you stiffened slightly. You couldn’t move much in your current situation, but your muscles seized all the same. He stayed next to you as long as he could, until he was in danger of being swallowed into the goop as well. He licked the wounds closed as efficiently as possible and stepped back with the others to see what happened.

It was obvious that you had gone unconscious. The goop stopped moving so rapidly and seemed to pause in its conquest of the front yard. It started oozing slowly around again, creating something of a reverse muffin top as the top shell hardened and the bottom bits leaked out. They backed up to the edge of the yard and Jaemin used his (admittedly small) knowledge of spellcraft to create wards that would protect the house down the street and hopefully contain the goo. They watched in silence as the green kept expanding. Then Yangyang spoke.

“Will Y/N die?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jaemin slowly. “She shouldn’t, at any rate. I bit her.”

A collective tremor went around the group, as though none of them wanted to appear surprised but they all were.

“It was the only thing I could think of that gave Y/N a chance, so I had to try it,” Jaemin continued. “But Kun-hyung knows more than me on that subject.”

Kun looked pensive as he considered what Jaemin had said. “It should work, in theory. But between the wards always up around Y/N’s house, this spell, and the venom in his system, her body might now be able to take it. It’s just a game of chance, unless we can find some way to take some stress off of her body.”

They all looked to Jaemin again.

“Is there some way to break the wards that she has up?” Yuta asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jaemin said, frowning. “Not without taxing her further. We definitely can’t affect this spell without killing her, and as far as the transformation goes, we’d need to be able to get to her body in there. That’s obviously not happening either.”

“So what can we do?” Donghyuck’s voice was small and he sounded almost repentant, as though he thought this whole thing was his fault. It sort of was, but it was odd to hear that tone from him.

“We ask Ten what he can see of the future and go from there,” Jaemin said. “There’s not much else that we can do, unless anyone knows someone better with spells than Y/N.”

The whole group shook their heads. Spells could be cast by any human variant creature that they knew of, but spellcraft was a human specialty. You in particular were gifted beyond what they had seen in a very long while.

While they thought about it, Ten burst forth from the trees down the street and ran towards their group. He slowed down as he took in the blob, now pressing against the wards that contained it. Jaemin could feel a subtle sort of pressure in his head as his spells kept the goop within Yuta’s plot.

“So?” Ten asked Jaemin as he walked up. “Did it work?”

“We’re not sure. She’s not dead, or the Fire Away spell would have gone small and liquidy again. On the other hand, none of us know any way to get her out, and Kun-hyung’s worried about the toll that all of this” - he waved his hands at the blob - “will kill her while he turns. We wanted to ask what you were seeing as of now.”

Ten closed his eyes, most of his tentacles going still as he focused. There was one that whacked anxiously against the dirt beneath him, beating a steady rhythm against the earth. After a few minutes, his eyes opened and he refocused his eyes on the group around him.

“Well?” Yangyang prompted when he didn’t speak. Ten sighed.

“Good news is that she’s probably not going to die.”

“And the bad news?”

“She might die.”

“What do you mean, Ten-hyung?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell which future is the one that will come true. It’s like there are two possible ways for the future to go, and neither of them is solid. Either she makes it through, or she dies. The worst part is that I can’t tell what causes her death. It could happen two seconds from now, or two hours, or two days. I just don’t know.”

“I don’t remember your visions ever having two outcomes,” Kun said, brows furrowed.

“I haven’t ever had one like this.”

“Well,” Jaemin said, “I’ll just stay here until she wakes up.”

“And where should I go?” asked Yuta. “Maybe nobody told you, but this is my house that just got burned down.” He threw a glare at Hyuck and Yangyang.

“Go stay with Mark-hyung or something. You sleep over with him all the time anyway,” Donghyuck suggested, and Yuta grinned, a complete change from two seconds before.

“He’ll hate that. See you guys later!” He skipped a few steps before running full tilt, phone in his hands and fingers tapping. The glow of the screen disappeared quickly from Jaemin’s view, and he turned back to their now-smaller group.

“Are you sure that you want to stay here until Y/N wakes up?” Kun asked Jaemin. “I know that you don’t need sleep or anything, but that seems like a waste of time.”

“I have eternity,” Jaemin told him. “I just need to be here to watch it deflate, whether it’s because she’s turned or because…” His voice went weak. He couldn't see you die. He just couldn’t. Kun patted him on the shoulder.

“Okay. We’ll come check on you tomorrow.” As he walked away with Yangyang and Donghyuck, Jaemin heard Kun’s ‘mom voice’ come out as he lectured on the dangers of playing with fire. It made Jaemin smile a little.

His head was starting to feel uncomfortable with the pressure of his wards, so he carefully widened them, centimeter by centimeter, until there was less gloop on them. He couldn’t keep this up until you completed the transformation, he knew, but it would work for now. Maybe he could call Kibum-hyung tomorrow for help.

Until then all he had to do was sit and wait, and look at your form encased in neo pearl champagne colored jello.

☽༓☾

It was exactly twenty five hours, forty minutes, and nine seconds since Jaemin had first settled in when the goop started deflating. The hard casing that had developed collapsed in on itself when the slightly softer insides began to shrink, reminding Jaemin slightly of Honey Lemon and her chemical reactions in Big Hero 6. He sprang to his feet, rushing forward to where he could see the outline of your body inside the collapsing bubble, grabbing the empty decanter that the goop had once been held in. He scooped up the small oozing goop that remained from the spell and plugged the decanter, turning around slowly to look at your body once more.

As your still-limp body collapsed to the ground, Jaemin felt his unbeating heart sink. You didn’t move, there was no rise and fall to your chest. There was no sound of your breath in the air. Your eyes didn’t roll around under your eyelids. You seemed… corpselike. Dead. But it couldn’t be. Ten had said that you would probably survive! Jaemin opened his phone and pressed Ten’s contact to call it. He answered on the third ring.

“Jaemin? What’s up?”

“Ten-hyung,” Jaemin said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Y/N… I think, is dead?”

Ten sucked in a breath, audible even through the phone. “Jaemin I’m so sorry-”

Jaemin cut him off. “Hyung, you said she would make it!”

“There was always that chance that she wouldn’t-”

“But you said-” Jaemin’s voice cracked again and he fell into silence. He couldn’t cry, and he had never wished he could until now. Tears might convey the hole in his chest, the emptiness of his existence without your life to partner him.

“Jaemin,” came Ten’s voice, and it was soft, delicate. “I’m so so sorry. I thought that she would make it, but there was always that second path. I can’t-” He took a deep breath. “I can’t see her anymore. I think… I think she might be gone.”

“No!” Jaemin exclaimed hotly. “She can’t be!”

“Jaemin-”

He hung up. Whatever Ten-hyung had to say wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t bring you back. He was along now, with your body and this stupid Flame Away Goop that had managed to take your life despite Ten’s prophecies and Jaemin’s best efforts. The person that you were was gone. Now you were just a still corpse, a painful reminder of what could have been and what should have been and what couldn’t be.

“I’ll give you a proper funeral,” Jaemin told your body as he lifted it into his arms gently. “I promise.”

For the next three days, Jaemin worked non-stop. He prepared a funeral for you, ignored everyone except to invite them to the event. He could still picture your smile, the way he had to support you those first few steps. He remembered how you had called him gorgeous, how you had said I love you in Gaelic to him without knowing what it meant. He recalled the trust you had for him despite his own occasional self-loathing, the way you had reminded him of his worth every time you were around him.

He missed you. He missed you a lot.

People had called him, came knocking once an hour. He eventually just shut off his phone so he didn’t have to hear their pleas for him to let them in. All of his hyungs and all of his noonas came to make sure he was okay, but would he ever be? There was a Y/N shaped hole in him that he didn’t think could ever be filled up again. Jeno came around three times a day with hug offerings, but Jaemin shut him out. He knew it hurt his friends, knew they only wanted to help, but you were gone and nobody understood. Nobody had loved you the way he had. Nobody had your blood quite literally on their hands, flowing through their veins.

It hurt to think about that. He “lived” while you were dead; he had gained life through your death and that was the most ironic thing. In his attempt to save you, he may have killed you.

He hurt.

On the fourth day since your death, Jaemin gently dressed your body in the best clothes he could find, brushed your hair, and put you in a casket, standing you in an open clearing, the one where he had tried to send you back to Earth. It was the largest clearing nearby, and all of the vampires that had met you plus Ten came to pay their respects. They spoke about the short time they had known you, and the strong impact you had made despite that. They told of how you had gone back to Earth and suffered until you had returned. They told of your feats practicing witchcraft and most of all they spoke of your kindness, the lack of repulsion towards them. They spoke of your kind smile and the way you had fit in so nicely with their community.

Jaemin started not-crying, as vampires did, and he thought he would be alone, but Jeno joined him. Lucas joined him. Jisung and Chenle joined him. Ten and Johnny joined him. He was not the only one who had loved you. Donghyuck joined him. Yangyang and Yuta and Kun joined him. He was not the only one who felt that your death was his fault.

Jaemin was not the only person who choked out their words in an imitation of crying. Jaemin was not the only person who missed you. Jaemin was not the only one who wanted you back. Jaemin was not the only one.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends until they surrounded him in a huge hug. It wasn’t a warm hug, necessarily, but it was a hug nonetheless and made him feel better. He was not the only one.

He was still dealing with the hole in his chest, but he had others to patch himself up with now. Like each person who had known you could bring a part of you back through their memories of you. It was nice, almost.

☽༓☾

The first thing you realized was that you could hear again. Your ears were uncovered, and you vaguely registered words being choked out somewhere near you. It sounded like a large number of people were very sad about something. You wondered what it could be. The second thing you realized was that you were laying down on some sort of padded… thing. It felt like too much work to open your eyes, so you felt around and realized that you were in a padded box. A padded box? That was new.

You tried to sniff the air and were met with the smell of cologne, not too strong but apparently on enough people that it permeated the air. You got hints of perfume too, but it was far less strong. Something in the box shifted and you felt breaths on your face. Were people looking at you in your sleep? Come to think of it, why were these many people around you while you slept at all? That seemed sort of rude. You tried to remember getting here but came up blank. Your last memories were of the pain before you passed out. You shivered at the memory.

“She’s awake!” someone shouted. The noise hurt your ears after the deafening silence of your previous state, and you itched to get away from them. A murmur of sound rolled through the room and then a familiar scent invaded your senses, that of sun-warmed earth.

“Y- Y/N?” Jaemin asked hesitantly. “Can you hear me? Are you in there?”

He sounded absolutely wrecked, like his voice had been stripped of his usual honey and sunshine. You tried to open your eyes, but it was too bright and you just couldn’t, so you nodded slightly.

“Oh my- Y/N,” he continued. “Can’t you open your eyes for me, please?”

You shook your head no.

“Okay, that’s fine, sweetheart. Let me get you out of there.” There was the sound of something wooden being bonked against a wall, but that faded in comparison to the name. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

You were lifted gently from your padded box and carried somewhere shady and cold. It felt nice against your skin. He felt nice against your skin. He carried you gently, like you were made of glass, but you felt surprisingly strong, just out of sorts. As though while your mind struggled to catch up, your body had strengthened. It was a very different sensation to that of your first time waking up in Jaemin’s house. He walked you through what you thought must be the forest for a bit before he sat down and nestled you into his side. You felt as though some muscles should be unhappy about the position, but you felt completely comfortable.

“Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice came to you, soft and warm and familiar. It was shaking slightly. “Can you open your eyes for me now?”

You focused on your eyelids, raising them slowly until you could see Jaemin. He had on a suit; black jacket over a white shirt, accented by a thin black ribbon tied loosely around his neck. His pink hair fell neatly in waves over his forehead and you reached up to brush away a piece that had fallen over his eyes, smiling.

“Hey Jaem. What happened?” Your voice wasn’t weak, like you supposed it should have been. It came out like a melody into the air, and you marvelled internally at the sound of it, how smooth it was. It felt nice.

“You-” Jaemin broke off for a second, rearranging your limbs next to him. “You were trying to save Yuta’s house. We had to rebuild part, but it’s fine. He stayed with Mark for a few days. For the most part, your spell worked. But then, it- it swallowed you. I got there in time to watch as you were absorbed by this green goop and I thought I was too late. I bit you, back here.” He brushed his fingers gently over the sides of your neck and you shivered. “But you didn’t wake up… I thought I was too late. You weren’t breathing, and you weren’t awake… I have no idea how you managed to cancel the spell without waking up or dying. So I-” He made a choked up sound and tightened his arm around your shoulders. “We’re at your funeral. Ten couldn’t see your future anymore, so we thought you were dead…” He trailed off.

“Wow,” you said. “I died? Then how am I here now? I feel alive?”

“It worked. It must have. You don’t have a heartbeat, but you’re awake. I don’t know what happened exactly, but you must be a vampire now.”

“Huh. I thought I’d feel more… hungry.”

He laughed. It glittered over your ears and you smiled, an involuntary reaction to him. “It’ll kick in, don’t worry.”

“What about the others? I mean, Lucas and Kun and everyone? Are they just at my funeral right now? Without me?”

“Oh.” Jaemin looked as though he had forgotten about them. “I guess they are. Let’s go see them?”

“Let’s.”

☽༓☾

After that day, it didn’t take you long to realize that the other vampires were purposefully putting you with Jaemin for just about everything. On days where you went to hang out with Lucas, he would ask you how Jaemin was doing. If you didn’t know, he would suggest that you go and visit him. Kun asked you to make sure that Jaemin was feeling okay. Yuta, who you were finally allowed to meet and hang out with, constantly suggested that you should spend more time with him. It was strange. Nobody had seemed to mind that you had your own hobbies before your transformation, but now that you were a vampire, it was as though you were meant to be with Jaemin all of the time. You asked Lucas about it once you got sick of the mysterious treatment and he looked at you heavily.

“When you got trapped in that goopy stuff, Jaemin went all weird. He didn’t move for, like, more than 24 hours, and once he thought you were dead… he didn’t talk to any of us until the funeral. We worry about him, and you seem to make him really happy, so we’re trying to keep you two around each other.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that, so you chose the very eloquent “oh,” as your response. Lucas chuckled.

“I know. It was really weird, I’ve never seen him like that. I think we’ve seen a lot of new sides of Jaemin since you came along.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s… well, I don’t think it’s bad or good. It just is. You affect him differently than anyone else we know.”

“Why is that, do you think?”

“Y/N, you idiot, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s what?”

Lucas sighed. “He’s in love with you.”

“Why do you think that? This is Jaemin we’re talking about here. Jaemin. He’s, like, beauty incarnate and he’s smart and kind and wonderful in every aspect of everything. He just can’t be in love with me.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“He’s not.”

“He is.”

“He can't be.”

“Why not?”

“I just told you why.”

Lucas sighed again, more deeply. “But you’re in love with him.”

“I-” You consider that. “I guess?”

“That wasn’t a question.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do you think it’s possible that he actually does like me back?”

“Yes.”

Somehow, after that, Lucas managed to steer the conversation onto other subjects and you refocused on those things, but it echoed in your head. He’s in love with you.

☽༓☾

Even with this new information bouncing around the forefront of your brain, you still had to go and spend time with Jaemin. Maybe it was a little strange for your thoughts to short circuit when you saw him, the little whisper of what if in your head. Maybe it was a little peculiar for a vampire such as yourself to stutter through sentences because you were busy thinking about what life would be like if he really did like you back. Maybe you spent less time talking on your walks together because you wanted to lay next to him in a clearing and watch the clouds instead. Just maybe.

If Jaemin noticed any of your strange behaviour, he didn’t call you out on it. He either really wasn’t paying all that much attention, or he knew enough about you to know that you wouldn’t want him to pry. It was strange, really, how well you knew each other in such a short time. You supposed that since you spent so much time together it wasn’t improbable, but he knew you nearly as well as your old human friends back home.

Thinking about your old memories was a strange experience. You could remember everything as clearly as your human self could, but you noticed more the lack of detail within the images, the way your human eyes couldn’t move as fast as your vampire ones, and your reflexes weren’t as fast, and the way you fixated on one part of the picture without taking in the details of the rest of your vision. You had entirely blocked out memories of driving, they were too harrowing. You recalled more easily now all of the times you had nearly hit something or someone, and while you couldn't die now, at least not that easily, you could have easily fallen prey to the fatal blind spot more times than you’d care to admit.

When you told Jaemin about that, he laughed that laugh you loved so much. “I was born in fourteen forty-two, Y/N. We didn’t have cars back then. The only thing on the street that would run me over was a horse-drawn carriage.”

“Well,” you retorted, “you should consider yourself lucky then. Carriages and horses don’t sound half so bad as giant hunks of metal flying at each other at eighty miles per hour.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he mused, stroking an imaginary beard. “Maybe I was lucky to be born in Korea during the 1400s. You may have heard of the emperor Sejong the Great? I was born during his rule. He was one of the best emperors Korea ever had, he introduced hangul and united the country under Confucian principles so that there was more love for the country and the people living in it. Peaceful few years we had there, from what little I remember. After that, though? Lots of killing, children on the throne, et cetera et cetera. Not so fun. And I was actually able to die through all of that, so that wasn’t pleasant. But then King Sejo, the one who did the killing, actually did a pretty okay job of ruling the country and we had a few more years of prosperity. He died six years after my transformation. I missed that event because I was here in Vahmpyr getting to know Jeno, who turned me.”

“How much of the group was around, at that point?”

“Well…” Jaemin closed his eyes briefly in thought. “Here, let me draw you a family tree.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote ‘Moon Taeil’ at the top. “Okay so as you know, Taeil is here as the first of us. He turned Yuta-hyung, Kun-hyung, Johnny-hyung, and Taeyong-hyung.” He wrote in their names under Taeil’s, spacing them out across the paper.

“Yuta-hyung turned Sicheng-hyung and Shotaro; Kun-hyung turned Dejun-hyung and Lucas-hyung; Johnny-hyung turned Jungwoo-hyung and Mark, and Taeyongie-hyung turned Hyuck, Doyoung-hyung, and Jaehyun hyung.” He labeled all of these names, then drew more stems leading from Jaehyun, Lucas, and Dejun.

“Jaehyun-hyung turned Sungchan, Lucas-hyung turned Hendery-hyung and Yangyang, and Dejun-hyung turned Renjun.” He drew all of these connections and stemmed Renjun’s name down even farther.

“Renjun turned Jeno and Chenle, then Jeno turned me, and I turned Jisung and now you.” He finished the tree with a flourish, black ink stark against the creamy paper. They were all connected, in some way, to Taeil’s venom. And there was you, at the very bottom, your name small next to Jisung’s.

“You guys are all so… connected.”

“Yep! We’re all one big family.”

“Do you guys have, like, family reunions? And who changed Joy and her friends? Or what’s-his-face? Taemin?”

“We don’t really all get together a lot, just because most of us have jobs on Earth or spend our days doing stuff on our own. Some of them like having flings all the time. Obviously none of us can get STDs or get pregnant, so they can do that, no strings attached. We sort of hang out in our individual groups for the most part, and then hang out every once in a while. As far as the others, we think that they must have come from the same person as Taeil-hyung, a very very old vampire. There are other stories like ours across Vahmpyr, where one vampire created one member of each coven and let us grow from there. The difference is that some of them actually have good relationships with those older vampires, whereas I’ve never met ours. I’ve heard that there’s a man called Park Jae-sang who actually comes around to spend time with the vampires he’s changed. The closest we have to an old vampire is Leeteuk-hyung, and he isn’t really around much, plus he’s not that much older than Taeil-hyung.

“Anyway, to answer your question, when I was turned, nearly everyone was around already. Only Yangyang, Sungchan, Shotaro, Chenle, and Jisung are younger than me. And now you.”

“Wow, so you had to meet everyone right after your transformation? I bet that was chaotic.”

“It was, but it was also fun. I got to be the baby for a while. Then the others came around and I somehow became a mother figure.”

You laughed. Jaemin was a mother figure, for sure. He liked to take care of the people around him, including humans that his brothers had brought home for him to patch up. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

He giggled along with you, that laugh you adored so much, and grinned. “I guess it sort of fits me, doesn’t it? Mother Jaem.” He rolled the name over his tongue and you collapsed into laughter again. “I think that works well, yep.”

The next few days, you called him Mother Jaem, and everyone gave you weird looks, but it made Jaemin laugh hard enough that it was worth it.

☽༓☾

One day after this, Chenle pulled Jaemin aside to ask him what on Earth was going on with this whole “Mother Jaem” thing. Jaemin explained happily how it had come about. Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically.

“When are you two getting married?”

Jaemin just gave him a blank stare. “What?”

“It’s so disgusting how much you guys love each other! When can we shove you two together in a house and call it a day?”

“Um, okay, first of all, that is not how you get rid of somebody. Second, she doesn't love me? And third, there is definitely not enough space in her house for me, even if she did.”

Chenle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucas was right, you guys are blind fools. Of course she loves you! She goes to see you all the time! And enjoys it! You’re both in love with each other and both of you are cowards.” He ran his hand through his hair, knocking a piece into his eye. He squinted unhappily but didn’t try to move it.

Jaemin sighed as he got the chunk of hair away from Chenle’s eye. “This is Y/N we’re talking about though! She might hate me for everything I put her through and only stick around because I turned her or something. Plus, she spends as much time with Lucas as with me.”

“My God, your logic is terrible. You love her, she loves you, you need to get together. Watch some dramas and kiss her in the rain or something. Lucas even told me that she loves you!”

“That’s astonishingly specific for someone who doesn’t have a romance under their belt.”

“That’s besides the point!” Chenle grabbed the sides of Jaemin’s face and held him still while he spoke. “You need to confess sometime or another before the rest of us go crazy watching you run in circles around each other.”

With that he stalked away, leaving Jaemin rubbing his face where Chenle’s fingertips had pressed into the skin. It didn’t hurt, but the echoes of his voice and his fingers held Jaemin still for a long time afterwards.

☽༓☾

The next week, Kun and Taeil invited the whole coven to a reunion at Kun’s country estate. Having never been, you looked forward to seeing the giant house as much as meeting the rest of the family. It didn’t disappoint, it was absolutely massive, at least four or five floors and extensive gardens in front. Kun gave you free run of the place, asking you to please not enter rooms marked with a “Do Not Enter” sign. Simple rule to follow. You entered the main hall first, feeling like royalty in such an elegant room. Twin staircases led from the upstairs, leading your eyes to an extravagant chandelier covered in hundreds of crystals, and a mint green ceiling. From either side of the large room extended hallways with lush pale blue rugs and endless vases on platforms. It felt as though you had entered the past, or maybe a very expensive movie set. You moved through hallways and rooms, gazing at velvet chairs and old paintings that screamed money. You wondered if someone in Vahmpyr painted them, or if they were from Earth. You found only two rooms marked “Do Not Enter,” one of which was in a long hallway of bedrooms, so you assumed it was Kun’s.

The other was in the back of a positively colossal library. The library caught your eye because of the sheer size of it. Rows upon rows of books lined the walls and seemingly endless freestanding shelves. It was as large as the main public library back home, taking up at least four average rooms worth of space per floor. Not to mention the height. You estimated that it was at least three floors high, perhaps four. An entire long wall was devoted to Kun’s studies in medicine, dating back to leeches and poultices on open wounds through Magnetic Resonance Imaging and the most advanced of current surgeries. He had records of patients stacked by century, and a desk that popped out of the wall to reveal his own notes on developing vaccines and other medicines. Had you still been human, you were certain that a room like this would have given you a headache, from the size and the amount of books to look at.

From the medicine section you moved to other sciences like forensics, geology (although that section was considerably smaller), and astronomy. You also discovered an entire section on aviation. In the astronomy section, you found cork boards with maps pinned to them, stars drawn in detail, space stations built for both humans and vampires, and more drawings you didn't know how to interpret. You pulled out a few books at random and flipped through them, smiling at the notes in the margins. Past those sections were books on every type of science you had ever heard of, and some you hadn’t.

Beyond those were histories, and Kun’s travel section. He had bins filled with brochures, maps, and travel magazines and accounts of, from what you could tell, every war known to have occurred past Kun’s turning. That blended into social studies, and you found books on language next to copies of the Bible in seemingly every version, translations of the Quran, and more religious texts. Stock market trends were recorded and stored next to books on how to hire smart and anthropology. Cultural studies were stored with ethics and political records. Newspapers appeared as well, although those were fewer than the books by far. They appeared to be from a singular area, a place called Taining County, in China. Kun must have some sort of tie to it. You made a mental note to ask him when you rejoined the others.

You climbed a staircase to the second floor, where you found a fireplace and sitting area within the books. It appeared that the entire second floor was books organized by language, starting each section with children’s books and working their way up to novels. You found all of the Romance Languages, German, Hindi, Greek, Tagalog, Russian, Dutch, Japanese, Cantonese, Thai, Korean, Arabic, Bengali, Telugu, Tamil, Urdu, Latin and more that you didn’t know. In the back was a small compilation of different countries’ sign languages, as well.

You climbed the next flight of stairs to the third floor, finding the fiction section. These were organized by genre, with horror on one shelf, science fiction hogging four shelves on the opposite walls, romance taking up a large section next to that, et cetera. You spotted a section marked “Transcribed” and walked over to it, finding books handwritten by Kun, presumably taken from other forms and written over to fit in his library. You imagined the wax tablets and stone slabs of old books and shuddered. Even as a vampire, transporting those wouldn’t be easy. This floor was open in the middle, looking down at the second. Above you, the next floor was open as well and housed more shelves.

You walked up the last staircase and came upon a musical archive. There were phonographs on tables next to more recent record turntables, followed by cassette players and CD players. Each one was in impeccable condition, and behind them were shelves of every format that would work with those machines. These were shorter shelves, since the music was thinner than books, but there were still many many of them. You saw cassette boxes labeled with the albums contained within, records in yellowed sleeves, and CDs in thick storage cases. They were organized by decade, with the earliest dating back to the late nineteenth century. You guessed that was when recorded music had been invented. Perhaps Kun could still remember older pieces though; something else you would have to ask him about. You were looking through the most recent music to see what he liked and if you had heard of it when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“In the library, fourth floor!” you yelled back.

“Will you come back to the kitchen and help me with this?”

“Sure!”

You weren’t sure who was calling you, but it sounded like Lucas, so you ran towards the kitchen. You weren’t sure entirely why there was a kitchen, since you all drank blood anyway, but you figured there was a good reason. You added that to your growing list of things to ask Kun. You understood why you had a kitchen in your house since you had lived in it while you were still human, but Kun hadn’t been to Vahmpyr before he was turned as far as you knew. Besides, he usually lived in his apartment next to the other guys. Maybe it was just necessary to have a kitchen in a house, you didn’t know. It would have felt weird, you guessed, to live in a house without one.

When you arrived, Lucas was outside as you had guessed.

“Will you run in and grab these things for me?” he asked, handing you a sticky note. “I’ve been tasked with rounding up everyone else.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied, walking through the doors into the room. It was industrial, like Kun cooked for dozens of people at a time, and there was a surprising amount of cooking utensils that wouldn’t work on raw bodies, like spatulas. You looked down at the sticky note for the first time. If you don’t confess, it read, I will smack you when you come back out. And you know how big my hands are, I will make it hurt.

“What?” you murmured to yourself as Jaemin walked into the room.

“Oh hey Y/N, did Chenle send you?”

“No, Lucas did. But did Chenle perhaps give you a sticky note with things to get for him on it?”

Jaemin glanced down at a hot pink slip of paper in his hand. “Yeah.” He looked back up at you before his brow furrowed and he looked more thoroughly at the writing on it. He groaned. “I am going to kill Chenle.” He ran a hand through his cotton candy pink hair. “I guess I should just get it over with then.”

He walked closer to you, setting the sticky note on the counter as he came. “I’m kind of in love with you? And I have been for a while? I mean I get if you hate me after everything I put you through, but according to Chenle you like me back? And… yeah?”

You were left speechless. Hate Jaemin? Never. And he… loved… you?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jaemin waved a hand in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I’ll go, Chenle must have set up a prank.” He started walking away and you grabbed his wrist.

“Jaem, hold on. I’m just in shock. I thought there was no way you could like me back…” Your voice got steadily smaller until it trailed off at the end of your sentence as a whisper.

His entire face lit up like a Christmas tree plugged in for the first time, glowing and cheerful. “It’s not a prank?”

You rubbed a hand over your face. “No, it’s not a prank. I thought Lucas was kidding when he said you liked me back. Or at least that he was wrong. You- you’re actually telling me that you’re in love with me?”

“I am.”

“Holy shit.”

He laughed, a ringing sound in the quiet of the kitchen. It echoed back at you as though the happiness of the laugh had been multiplied. “They’re going to be so smug,” he muttered.

“Oh yes they are. We’re going to have to get back at them someday.”

“Well, we have forever,” he reminded you. You grinned and held out your hand. He took it.

“Let’s go get the teasing over with then.”

You walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What did Chenle threaten you with if you didn’t confess?” you asked.

“Oh, he was going to tell the group about the fling I had with Jeno when we were younger.”

You looked at him in shock. “You had a fling with Jeno? Why would you choose me over him?”

“It was just sexual attraction. While that works for some people, both of us were happier just being friends, so we ended it. I actually am in love with you, which makes all the difference. Anyway, Chenle got that story out of me on a dare once and has held it over my head ever since.”

“I wonder if he’s told Jeno he knows?”

“Probably.”

You had reached the front room, and you took a deep breath as you walked forward, though it did nothing for your undead body. “Let’s throw ourselves to the wolves.”

As you walked out into the sunlight, a cheer rose up that would have sent birds flapping away, had there been any. You heard Chenle’s unique laugh paired with Lucas’ happy shouts of “yes!” and the voices of the other men you had gotten to know, paired with ones you didn’t. They stood in a group in the garden, whooping and throwing up hats if they had any. Lucas was the first to reach you.

“I can’t believe you actually did it! I thought I’d have to smack you!” He sounded far too happy at the prospect for your liking.

The rest of the boys ran over. There was a repeating round of “finally” until someone mentioned the food getting warm and there was a great rush to get back to the patio in the garden. You sat next to Jaemin in patio chairs as the sun slowly sank past the tree line and talked with friends old and new.

There was something new, something warm inside of you. A feeling of belonging more than ever when Jaemin fed you a little and the rest of the guys booed jokingly. Under the rising stars you kissed him for the first time, a quick peck at the behest of Yangyang. There were more cheers and hugs and someone had a polaroid camera out, the flash lighting up the scene as everyone laughed.

This was where you were meant to be.

End.

!!reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!!

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

Text

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?”

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being.

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.”

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.”

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies.

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.”

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you.

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study.

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced.

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left.

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts.

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt.

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out.

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.”

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester.

💘taglist: @pascalpanic, @mellowswriting

#agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #kingsman: the golden circle #study smut #studying smut

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taehyungsgrowl · 3 years

Text

Illicit Affairs IV - Duncan Shepherd x Fem!Reader

{gif by @ansonmount}

hey babies! it has been a while! but i have finally gotten enough brain cells to write part four of illicit affairs!

big thank you to @desertsunflower00 for pointing me in the direction i wanted the story to go to after being stuck ily amiga!

also.... this was not the ending i thought i was gonna give when i started writing it but my heart led me to this so

i hope you all enjoy!!! and thank you so much for being so patient!

I've had so so much fun and heartache writing for this story.

please let me know what you think!!!

the first 3 parts are linked here!

Illicit Affairs Part I

Illicit Affairs Part II

Illicit Affairs Part III

word count: 5.9 k

as always! not proofread! italics are for memories!

(also really hope the italics copied correctly from google docs!)

Emma’s head was pounding. With each sob she felt the pain strike her heart.

Duncan was her world. She couldn’t imagine… couldn’t even think of what her life would be like without him. He was the one who lit up even her darkest days - always being that rock that held her together.

All the years they’d been together, she never had reason to think Duncan didn’t feel the same way. She thought he was enough for him…

A message from her friend pinged her phone, making her acknowledge the time.

God, she wanted to scream again. She didn’t know whether to believe if he was really at his office.

Lost. Alone. She didn’t know what to do. The one person she knew could make her feel loved was now the person causing her the most pain.

Emma tried to get herself off the floor, but what was the point. She didn't see a rhyme or reason to it when she didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know where he was.

She didn’t know what she’d say to him if he was.

And she felt like she had nowhere to go.

So she laid on her closet floor, clutching the nearest shirt of his she could reach and stained his shirt with her tears. Her tears would soon dry and disappear from the fabric, but the lip print on his collar would be painful to remove both from his shirt and her mind.

While Duncan waited for Y/N to finish in the bathroom, he checked his phone and saw a message that had come in from Emma. Guilt clouded every emotion he had. It overtook the anxiety he felt of the what ifs with Y/N. It encompassed him completely.

Missing you x, she sent with a picture of their dog.

He’d been gone for longer than he anticipated and knew she must be getting worried. He took a deep breath, trying to ease himself.

He was doing this for her.

Y/N’s nerves bubbled up in her stomach, but she couldn’t stall much longer.

“Are you okay?” Duncan asked right at the door.

She knew looking at the results would then seal her fate with Duncan - one way or another.

“Yup! Just a minute.” she got up and held on to the edge of the sink before splashing her face with cold water. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself.

Y/N picked up the test and held her breath.

Not pregnant.

As relief washed over her she couldn’t deny the tiny part of her that hoped she was -- as selfish as it was, she didn’t think Duncan wouldn’t leave her if she was.

Y/N walked out of the bathroom, negative test in hand, to a Duncan who nervously paced her living room.

“It’s fine, Duncan. I’m not pregnant.” She pretended not to care when she saw his shoulders finally relax since he’d heard of the possibility of it being true.

He clapped his hands together nervously. Duncan hadn’t realized how sweaty his palms were in the short time waiting. “Okay,” he nodded. “Okay - I… How are you feel-”

“Stop.” she interrupted him. “We don’t have to do this.” Although normally seeing Duncan in her apartment always filled her with a sense of warmth - it was the illusion of having a life with him - when she saw him now, he seemed out of place. He didn’t belong there no matter how much she wanted to force that piece there.

He frowned, studying her expressions, “I came because last time we spoke -”

Y/N interrupted him again, “I know why you’re here. You think you can clear your conscious by telling me how fucking special I am,” she rolled her eyes. “We don’t need to do all that.” If she had any doubts about the way he felt before - they were made clear now.

And while she felt she had a million things left unsaid to him, she didn’t feel like she owed him that. “You’re good. We’re good. I just want to shower and move on. So I’d appreciate it if you quit calling and showing up.”

Just let me go.... She wanted to scream.

Duncan was driving back home from Y/N’s apartment and while he had so many thoughts racing in his head - for the first time in a long time, he felt lighter. As difficult as it’s been to part ways with Y/N, he knew that it was the right decision. He’d finally have a chance to do things right by Emma.

“I’m home, baby!” Duncan called out, hanging his keys by the door. The house felt cold and a shiver ran down his spine.

He walked into their bedroom looking for his wife and saw the door of their walk-in closet jarred open. When he opened the door he saw Emma curled into the fetal position asleep, holding his shirt with Captain snuggled up on her side.

She had tired herself out from crying and fell asleep waiting for his return.

Duncan’s heart rate spiked, thinking she’d been hurt or something happened. “Emma!” he fell to his knees, placing the back of his hand on her forehead, feeling for a temperature. “Baby, wake up,” he cooed, until he saw her eyes flutter open.

And for the fraction of a second between unconsciousness and consciousness, she got lost in the blue of his eyes all over again. For that fraction of a second it was like waking up to him that very first night they spent together.

“Hold still,” Duncan laughed, his fingers delicately brushed over Emma’s face until he got the eyelash that was in danger of going into her eye. “There,” he showed her the lash stuck to his thumb.

“Thank you,” she licked her lips, her eyes glancing down at Duncan’s pink lips.

“Wait,” he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, “Press your thumb to mine - and whoever the lash sticks to gets to make a wish,” he explained the silly ritual. It was something one of his nannies had taught him and it always stuck with him. He loved how he could be like this with Emma… soft… vulnerable. He’s sure very little people actually knew this side of him.

Sure, they’d only been dating for a little bit now, but Duncan was more than sure that she was the love of his life.

“What?” she laughed, her voice like music to his ears.

“Trust me,” he smiled when she pressed her thumb to his. “Okay, ready? One… two… three.” They each pulled their digits away from each other and took a look. The lash was gone from Duncan’s thumb and Emma was smiling like a child with it pressed on her skin.

“What do I do now?” she giggled.

“Make a wish and then drop the eyelash into your shirt.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes trying to keep a very serious face, but Duncan could see the smile tugging on her lips. “Done.” she dropped the lash into her shirt.

“Well… what was the wish?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that!”

“I never said that was a rule!!” he argued back.

“That's a basic wish rule,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs criss crossed on his couch. “You can’t say what you wished for!”

“I’m taking the wish back if you won’t tell me,” Duncan tried to look stern, but his lopsided smile gave it away. He adjusted on the couch and pushed her down until he was hovering over her. His fingers started to tickle her sides, making the bottom of her shirt ride up.

She was in a fit of laughter begging him to stop. She found herself grabbing the back of his head and tugging his hair down to have his face just inches away from her own. Duncan’s fingers stopped tickling her, but his hand snuck inside her shirt, feeling her softness.

Everything froze for a moment when she stared into his eyes that way. He looked at her like she’d hung the moon and the stars. She never wanted to stop looking into the safety of his eyes.

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting and focusing back on Duncan’s. After that split second had passed, she sat up and shoved his chest, trying to make him give her space.

Duncan furrowed his brows, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Emma backed away from him, eyes prickling with tears again. She picked up his stained shirt - what once was her favorite, got closer to him and shoved it into his chest, “F-fucking asshole!” she finally let herself sob again. She felt so weak when her forehead fell against his chest and her balled up fists rested against him.

Entirely confused, Duncan wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to get her to look at him. He hadn’t gotten a chance to examine the shirt she handed him.

Emma felt herself melting into his hold, but stopped herself. She took his arms and removed them from her waist, taking a step back, “Don’t touch me.”

“No…” Duncan let out under his breath, seeing the lipstick mark, “No,” he said louder, “No, honey, I can explain.” He reached his hand out to touch her but she flinched at his approach.

His warm “honey” had a cold stare behind her tears. He couldn’t imagine what she could be feeling… She was never supposed to find out.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I love you. No one else but you.” his voice cracked.

“Get out.” she sniffled, wanting so desperately to be strong.

“Let me explain!” he felt his knees wanting to give out and his head started to spin. This couldn’t be happening. He asked her to let him explain but he didn’t know if he even had a good reason to give her.

For a moment, he saw her face soften. A result of seeing the sick look on his face - she still felt the urge to hold him, to kiss him.

He took the chance at her moment of softness and continued, “It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

“Maybe we should back up for a minute if you really want to explain.” she wiped her cheeks, “Let’s start with an easy one, no? What’s on that shirt, Dunc?”

“Baby…” it felt like a kick to the gut.

“I’ll help you out,” she continued, “Who’s lipstick is on your shirt?”

“It was a stupid mistake, Emma. I promise.” he pleaded.

“No, Dunc. A mistake is when I accidentally add too much salt to a recipe or leave my coffee mug on top of my car before I pull out of the driveway.” her voice lowers again, “I trusted you.”

“How long?” she took a deep breath. “And please don’t bother lying.”

“Six months.” he hung his head in shame.

No. No. No.

Emma thought she wanted to know the truth but… hearing it from his voice that this had been going on far longer than she imagined broke her heart all over again.

“Six months,” she repeated. “You’ve been fucking some whores for six months. God I’m so fucking stupid,” she groaned. She raised her hand to the pole that held all of Duncan’s clothes in the closet and slid them off, throwing them to the ground in frustration.

“It was never more than one.” he tried to defend himself.

“Because that makes it so much better!!!” she laughed humorlessly. “Get out! Get out!” she tossed his clothes at him until he backed out of the closet.

Even if it broke her again, she wanted to know the reason why. But it couldn’t be today. She could barely stand to look at him and with everything that came out his mouth - just ending up cutting her more and more.

“I love you,” Duncan dropped to his knees and crawled to her until he could wrap his arms around her legs. “If we can both calm down and talk-”

“I don’t need to calm down,” she cried.

In all his years spent with Emma - he’d never seen her so upset and it killed him to know he was the reason for it. Maybe it was his selfishness taking over again, but he couldn’t lose her - couldn’t let her go.

They’d almost been inseparable from the moment they met. Attached at the hip. Always in sync.

Duncan was in his home office, typing away on his laptop. His glasses were low on his face and he wore a white t-shirt and his plaid pajama pants.

Emma had been trying to get him to bed for the past hour, but he was really busy with the project he’d been working on.

She came back into his office ready for bed. She wore one of his old college sweatshirts and rubbed her eyes. “Almost done?” she yawned.

“Almost,” Duncan didn’t look up from his screen.

Emma lingered by the door, not wanting to go to bed without Duncan by her side. Duncan felt her at the door and looked up, pushing his glasses back. He knew how much she loved sleeping in his old sweatshirt at this point he considered it hers.

“C’mere,” he rolled back his chair, “You can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” he smiled, patting his thigh.

She hurried to his desk and curled up on his lap. She loved being close to him. Just feeling his breathing, taking in his scent, feeling his hands absently wander up and down her body.

Her legs hung off the side of his chair and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, but Duncan kept her steady with his arm around her waist.

And he could stay like that for hours - feeling her close as he finishes reading over reports for his app. She was like a life size stress reliever for him. Just by having her touching him, pressing little kisses along his jaw… melted away his stress.

When she looked down at Duncan on his knees for her, she still saw the man she loved. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel that way about someone again.

“Baby, honey,” he cried, “I’ll never stop making it up to you just please,” his forehead pressed into her thigh, “Don’t leave me.”

“I-if you won’t leave - I will,” she stepped out of his grasp. “I can’t think straight right now. I… I’m so hurt,” her voice broke with the last word.

“I’m going to my moms house…” she spoke out loud, guiding herself through the plan. “I can’t be here. I can’t even look at you.”

Duncan begged her to stay. He told her if anyone should be forced to leave the home it should be him - he was the one who screwed up. But she couldn’t stand being in the place that has brought them so many happy memories.

That night, Emma stayed in her childhood room. Although she had outgrown it over the years, the whole situation made her feel small. She curled up under her yellow bed sheets and stared at her phone each time it lit up with another text from Duncan.

Duncan tossed and turned in his empty bed. In his sleep, his arms searched for his Emma, coming up empty every time.

“Em?” her mother woke her up gently, “It’s been five days of just sulking around and ignoring calls. You need to get up, sweetheart.”

Her mother softly pulled her covers down. “Maybe you can get dressed and we can go for a coffee,” concern clouded her voice.

Emma didn’t say anything - just stared at her ceiling. “Duncan came by why you were sleeping,” her mom continued. His name was the only word she’d responded to; she looked at her mom with tears in her eyes.

“I told him you weren’t available to talk…” She handed her daughter her glasses off the nightstand.

She put her glasses on her face and slowly sat up in the bed. Her mom was right - she’d been avoiding everyone; avoiding Duncan for too long now. She slowly nodded, feeling her body drag out of bed.

The hot water that almost burned her skin in the shower suddenly turned frigid. The warm embrace evaporating away. Her heart was growing tired of the things she loved leaving her reach.

After a day of blurred nothingness, her heart was finally pounding a million beats per second, staring at the door of her home. As familiar as it was, it didn’t feel like home anymore.

With a shaky hand, her fingertip pressed deeply into the doorbell.

12:46 am - Although Duncan should have been asleep he found himself the same way he had since Emma left; sad and alone.

He pulled on an old pair of sweats, his hair in messy curls with a few strands in his face - even his stubble had gotten a little scruffier.

“Emma,” his eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Seeing her again finally made him feel like he could breathe again. “You’re home,” he tried to reach for her, but saw the way her entire body tensed up at his advancement.

“Stop,” she shook her head, her heart couldn’t handle having to reject him. She was holding on by a thread. “We need to talk.”

Four months later:

Y/N smiled in the sleepy state between dreaming and being conscious as she felt strong arms pulling her closer. His large hands pressed on her stomach, slowly inching up her shirt. At the same time, she felt his lips softly pressing into her shoulder.

“Morning,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

“Morning, princess,” he rolled over and pinned her below him. She met his kind, unclouded gaze. Not a trace of guilt behind his eyes - he was solely happy to be hers.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You want chocolate chip or blueberry pancakes today?” he nuzzled the tip of his nose with her, making her break a smile.

“Both?” she bit her lip.

“Oh my god,” he playfully rolled his eyes before kissing her, “You’re absolutely spoiled, darling.” He started getting out of bed, pulling his sweats that were discarded on the floor. Y/N stared in awe at the strong muscles of his bare back. She loved running her fingers over the smoothness of his skin, leaving invisible idle patterns or semi-permanent marks of her fingernails scratching down.

There was peace knowing she never had to share him. With him, she didn’t have to sacrifice bits of her happiness.

With one last kiss, he stepped out of the room to take a quick shower before starting breakfast. It’d become sort of a ritual for them; Sundays were for Y/N to sleep in and for him to make her breakfast. They’d later fold their laundry together and watch movies.

Her phone buzzed too loudly on the nightstand for her to ignore. “Hello?” she picked up the call, her eyes still closed.

“Y/N?” her heart came to a halt. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Her name dripped from his lips like molasses; warm and sickeningly sweet.

“Y/N, it 's me, Duncan.”

After a brief pause, Y/N let out a deep breath. She was fine. When Duncan left her apartment almost five months ago, she didn’t know what it would be like the next time she saw him. They’d left so much unsaid, but it was better this way. She wanted to be done. And while there were nights she thought she’d never stop missing him, the soft ache in her heart started to fade.

She was relearning what it meant to love someone who could give her what she wanted; what she deserved. No longer did she feel shameful - kept like a dirty secret.

Late night meet ups in dark parking lots with Duncan turned into proudly holding hands with someone who wanted the world to see the way he felt about her.

Quick fucks that left her feeling empty as Duncan hurried to leave her apartment to go home to his wife turned into her boyfriend spending the night to make her breakfast in the morning.

Things were never as bad as she anticipated. There was a part of her that was proud of not feeling fazed by Duncan’s call.

“I…” Duncan continued when she didn’t speak, “I mi- I’m sorry,” she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose as he stumbled over his words, “How are you?”

“I am doing really well, Duncan,” her tone was sincere without a trace of bitterness. If there was one thing Duncan did right, was give her his final piece of advice - when he told her she deserves someone who could make her happy.

“Emma… filed for divorce.” he coughed to cover up any anxiety in his voice.

“We need to talk,” Emma told him before stepping into the house. Duncan still replayed that night over and over in his head wishing and attempting to bargain with anyone that would listen to turn back time.

Duncan sat beside her at their small kitchen table; they always talked about getting a bigger one when they’re little family started to grow, but it was perfect for just the two of them. Countless mornings sipping coffee with the comfort of the other’s company were spent at their little table.

“I need you to know how much you hurt me, Duncan.” Duncan couldn’t recall the last time Emma had called him Duncan. He was her babe, her baby, her honey, her Dunc. A few nights ago, when she left - as angry as she was, through all the tears and screams she still called him Dunc. Hearing his full name fall from her lips with distaste made him realize things were changing.

The more Emma listened to Duncan recounting his inexcusable reasons the more upset she became. Silent tears strolled down her face as he explained over and over that he didn’t even have a real reason why because that meant there was nothing she could have done to keep it from happening.

“Do you love her?” Emma interrupted him. If there were any hope for them, Emma knew it would be in his answer.

“Baby - that’s over. I’ll never see her again,” and with the absence of a ‘no,’ Duncan sealed his fate.

She winced, internally accepting the end.

Duncan had a harder time really accepting it was over. A few weeks after that night, Duncan was served with paperwork for the divorce. He hated the word; it felt heavy on his tongue.

He didn’t want to make the process miserable for Emma; the least she deserved was to be able to leave him without so much legal jargon in the way, entangling an already large mess.

But lawyers do what they do best.

His attorney ‘friends’ squeezed pretty dime after pretty dime out of Duncan.

“She found out. About us,” Y/N imagined all of the awful things his life must have thought about her. “A couple months ago, really,” Duncan couldn’t stop talking.

“Why are you telling me this? And why are you telling me this now?” her boyfriend’s shower was still running and she was thankful to have the privacy for this conversation.

“She’s really left. I don’t know what to do. I miss her. I miss you,” he looked out at the skyline from his downtown condo; a place that could never feel like a home. A bachelor pad with a sad bachelor. Could a divorce candidate be considered a bachelor?

“I’m sorry,” she didn’t know what else to offer to that, “I did what you said,” she continued after a moment of silence. “I found someone who could give me what I needed. I’m happy, Duncan. I didn’t think I’d ever be happy like I am now after you - and I don’t mean this to rub it in, I just mean,” she searched for the right words, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again without that certain person, but there will be time when you will. I know you love her a lot. I can see that now and I could see it then. I’m sorry for the part I played in all this.”

They were both moving on without him. Not that he could blame them; he’d made them both sacrifice parts of themselves so he could be selfish.

“I’m sorry for calling,” Duncan grimaced. “I really hope he treats you well, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, “And Duncan,” she chewed on her bottom lip, “Take care, okay?”

“You too.”

One year later:

A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she huffed, setting the last of the boxes down by the front door. An entire year had passed and Emma had clung on to the final memories of her marriage. Things were different now and as much as she still found herself yearning for what she once had, she knew this was how things needed to be.

“Think we’ve got most of it now,” he came around the corner with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand he kept from being put up.

“How are you feeling?” Duncan asked, pouring her a generous amount before handing her the glass.

“Nervous,” she laughed, “scared,” she admitted.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in the way it always was when she had more to say. Duncan couldn’t help but smile until his eyes crinkled; as happy as he was for her, he couldn’t wrap his mind about her leaving.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, “You’re gonna do great. I don’t know anyone smarter, more qualified, more perfect for the job,” he encouraged.

“Not just about that,” she admitted. She sat on the floor of her empty living room and Duncan joined her, filling his own glass. “Moving. Being so far - starting over,” she sighed and took a long sip of her wine.

“Dunc,” she shook her head, “We grew up in this house. We loved in this house. Fought and made up,” she laughed.

“What’re we doing?” she kissed him as he pushed her into the house, hands fumbling all over each other.

“Don’t think about it,” he groaned against her lips, pressing her against the wall and hiking her up. “Just.. don’t think,”

“Mm, not here,” she sighed, feeling his hand wander up her dress, caressing the inside of her thigh. “The bed.. Our bed..” her voice was shaky as his skilled fingers brushed over her panties. She missed this. Missed him.

With signed divorce papers forgotten, Duncan tossed her on the bed and climbed over her, never letting his lips leave her skin. Savoring every moment she let him have with her. He didn’t know if she’d regret it in the morning. If she would hate him more than she did before, but she was giving him this now and he wanted to take it in. He wanted to memorize her taste as if it would be the last time.

He kissed down the hills of her breasts and hiked her dress past her thighs, dipping his head down to kiss along her inner thighs. “Emma,” he breathed her name like it was his final breath.

Duncan hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, “Up.”

She raised her hips and he slid them off her legs in one quick movement. He wasted no time - he swiped his tongue along her wetness, immediately moaning at the feeling of having her on his tongue.

Two of his fingers plunged into her, slowly pumping in and out of her while his pouty lips wrapped around her clit. Those lips she loved. The same lips that formed into her favorite smile; the ones that kissed her like the most delicate flower in the world; the ones that held his tongue that massaged her just like that.

Like muscle memory taking over her, her fingers laced themselves in strands of honey brown hair - pulling with the way he was making her feel.

“Dunc!” she almost screamed, feeling his dexterous curl and brush against her g-spot.

“Gonna cum,” her legs wrapped around him, her thighs closing around his face.

Duncan didn’t stop. He kept going. Wet open-mouthed kisses on her pussy, letting a trail of saliva and cum drag from his lips. He peeked up to watch her with a wet mouth before licking them clean.

He tried to hold her still as she finished, not letting his lips leave her center. He cleaned up every bit of cum with his tongue before he sponged kisses along her twitching thighs as she came down from the high he’d given her.

Duncan climbed on top of her again, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. There was comfort in the scratchy tickles of his beard on her soft skin.

She held him, softly running her fingers through his hair until she was ready.

While she didn’t plan on thinking that night, there was a part of her that knew this would be the last time they’d ever be like this again. She shook the thought away. For selfish reasons, she didn’t want it to ruin the night.

“Fuck me,” like it’s the last time, she thought.

And he did.

Their teeth clashed together with desperate kisses as he buried himself inside of her. As close as they were - they wanted to be closer.

Duncan’s stomach tightened, feeling himself twitch inside her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock for his cum.

“Fuck,” she sighed against his lips. “Feels so good.”

“Missed this… missed you, baby,” he rut his hips against hers. He took her hands and pinned them above her head, staring into her eyes with a dazed out smile.

Duncan didn’t dare think about it the next morning. He wished it’d never come.

But it did… it always did.

By the time Duncan woke up from his Emma filled dreams, she was lying awake with nothing but the sheet covering her.

“Uh hey,” Duncan offered, trying to get a feel of the room. Maybe he was still in a blissed out state of mind, but he didn’t feel a sense of regret lingering between them.

“Hi,” she laughed, turning to face him. “About last night…” she tried to read his expressions.

“I missed that. In all honesty, I miss you.” Duncan couldn’t dare to move, afraid if he did he would wake up from a dream. “I don’t think… we need to stop being friends. You’ve always been my best friend.” Which was true. The months leading up to the divorce were miserable - for both of them. “I… don’t think we can continue doing this,” she gestured between their naked bodies. “I don’t want that - I can’t handle going back to how things were, but I miss my friend.”

Duncan would take having her in his life in any capacity she allowed.

Of course, what they had couldn’t be recreated. But they did their best to be good friends to each other. Emma was tired of feeling like a victim of betrayal. She wanted to move on and not feel heavy from that anymore.

Duncan would come over on occasion for dinner or they’d go for a walk. As much as he wanted more, he wouldn’t push her - he couldn’t.

And like a good friend, Duncan was helping her pack up her belongings from the house they called their home so she could move hours away from him. The small sliver of time he’d see her was now being taken away, but he couldn’t keep her from going.

“I’m scared of being away from you,” she looked over at those familiar eyes that would always be home to her. “You’ve been the one constant in my life - good or bad - and you’ll be so far,” her eyes started to wet with tears.

Duncan took her hands in his, “I won’t ask you to stay. As much as I want you to stay with every fiber of my being - I can’t ask that of you. What I can ask is this,” he paused and looked into her eyes, “do you want to go?”

“Yes,” she answered, keeping his stare.

He smiled and hoped it met his eyes, “Em, I’ll always be here. Near or far. I’ll always love you. You know that.” And he meant the words in ways she didn’t know.

“I know,” she whispered, “I love you too.” Duncan wanted her to mean it in the way he did, but he knew better.

“Change is good, right?”

“Change is scary - but good,” Duncan tried to affirm her.

As much as everything around them could change, one thing would remain true; Emma was the love of his life. There would always be a part of him that wished he didn’t mess up the best thing that happened to him.

But there was a time he thought she’d never speak to him again and they found themselves back to each other. He wasn’t holding his breath for more to happen, but wishful thinking kept him going.

Duncan hoped she wouldn’t ask him to take her to the airport because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that goodbye.

Her last few days in town were so busy, Duncan hardly got a chance to see her. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and stared out his view.

Emma was leaving the next morning and he hadn’t had a chance of a real goodbye.

What he didn’t know was that Emma found herself at his apartment door. Her stomach was tied in knots over the anxiety of it all.

Duncan opened the door after a soft knock.

Emma.

“Hi,”

“Hi” as confused as he was, he was also so happy she came.

“I just came to say bye,” she bit her lip in that way Duncan was too familiar with. He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“Do you want to come in?” he moved out of the doorframe to let her in.

“I shouldn’t,” but she took a step forward.

“Tomorrow’s the day,” she sighed, nervously fidgeting with her clothes.

“Getting cold feet?” he joked.

“Didn't have cold feet when I married you, not getting cold feet now,” she laughed, cheeks burning hot.

“I just really came to see you before I left,”

“I’m glad you did. I have something for you. Wait here,” he rushed to his bedroom to get his college sweatshirt she loved. She made him take it when they split up. He’s never worn it since she used to - that was hers and she should have it.

“Dunc,” she smiled, taking the sweatshirt he handed her. “Thank you,” she hugged him.

She hugged him and didn’t let go. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing in her familiar scent, and just held her.

“I have to go,” she mumbled against his shoulder without making an effort to move.

“I know,” he squeezed her harder, making her laugh.

They eventually let each other go for their final goodbye.

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” she promised. She reached up to grab his face, giving him a kiss on his cheek, “Bye, honey,” she said softly in his ear.

tagging:

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#im sorry yall i got real soft w this #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd x emma #illicit affairs #duncan shepherd angst #duncan shepherd fan fic #hoc #house of cards #cody fern #andy dolan

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grey-water-colors · 3 years

Text

After All This Time (Bucky x Fem!Reader) Part 4

It's short, but I cried writing it. I've hit a bit of a writers block, but I think I've got that sorted out. I just needed to take a thinking shower and I got it. This will be my longest series and I'm trying to eek it out a bit, but I'm still new at this, so please have patience.

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the figurative ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of torture, death, triggers. Mentions of humiliation. Sadness, depression, self-loathing. ANGST. Fluff comes next time I think.

Word Count: 2,066 Shorter than usual, but I think I make up for it in feels.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock at the door startles Y/N out of her thoughts. She hadn’t really left the apartment for anything other than her job, which was only two days a week. Despite having almost completely shutting down, the house was clean.

Y/N opened the door and gaped at the person on the other side.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve just smiled. “May I come in?”

She opened the door wider so Steve could walk through, then shut the door gently. She turned around and watched Steve walk to the couch on the opposite wall and take a seat. She opted to perch on the arm of the wingback.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve laughed quietly, amused with her. “I could say I just wanted to visit an old friend,” he smiled.

Y/N smiled but it fell as soon as it came. “But that isn’t the case is it?”

Steve sighed and she could see the same wear and tear in his eyes that every soldier carried around. He looked older, despite looking only in his 30’s. She supposed war does that to people though.

“I’m here to apologize for Bucky. He was out of line. I could hardly believe that he did what he did. I had hoped that if I gave him time, he would come here and do it himself.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him. I get it. I really do, and to a certain degree, he was right. But I have my own reasons for being here.”

Steve just nodded. “Has Sam told you about him?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t need to. I was there. I know full well what he went through.”

“I wish I knew-,” he paused. “I wish I knew how to help. To ease his burden.”

“We all have our crosses to carry, some heavier than others. What we, and hundreds of others, went through was a horrific experience that isn’t easily put into words. He seems better though, right?”

Steve nodded, looking for words, “He isn’t the same.”

“None of us are,” she whispered. “That’s not the point of it though. If you’re trying to get the old Bucky back then you’re beating a dead horse. Help him become who he is now. Someone with more baggage than any person should ever carry. Don’t try to change him.”

“I’ll work on that. Speaking of people who have changed, are you ok? Sam says you haven’t been down to the VA in a while. He’s getting worried.”

Y/N shrugged and looked away. She wasn’t ok, but if she told that to Steve, he would do everything in his power to help her and she didn’t want his kind of help.

She put on a small smile. “If we’re going to talk about people changing, I think we should talk about you. What happened to scrawny Steve? You were my height the last I saw you and now you’re a buff giant.”

He laughed. “I’ve a lot to catch you up on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve. Before you leave, I’ve got something that I was hoping you’d give to Jam- Bucky.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Y/N handed him a letter. The writing on the outside just said ‘Bucky’.

“I’ll get this to him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a knock on Bucky’s door, then Steve walked in. Bucky looked at Steve with a look of sadness and self-loathing.

“What’d she say?” he whispered.

“That there was no reason to apologize.”

Bucky huffed. “Bullshit. I yelled at her. I called her weak and pathetic,” he looked away. “She would say something like that though.”

Steve sighed. “She gave me this to give to you.” He held out the letter.

“What’s in it?”

“No idea. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

Bucky nodded, reluctant to open it.

Steve stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll let you read that in peace. I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

Steve walked out and Bucky stared at the envelope in his hands. It was thick, and there was something small and lumpy in it.

He looked at, debating whether to open it or to put it in a drawer and leave it there till ate him alive. Curiosity got the best of him.

He opened the seal of the envelope with care, being sure not to rip it. When it was open he turned it over and something fell into his lap. His heart dropped.

There, on his lap, was the ring that been used to propose to her with. The last he had saw it, it had been nestled next her dog tags in the master bedroom. Why was it here?

He pulled out the folded paper and opened it. Smaller papers fell out onto his lap. They were old and had yellowed with time. He picked through some of them. His Social Security card, his birth certificate, and his bank papers. Everything he needed to restart his life outside of the avengers.

He finally started reading the letter.

~~~

Dear James,

Can I even call you James anymore? The only other person who called you that was your mother and maybe your sisters. There are so many things that I wanted to tell you when I saw you. To say to you, but then things, well you were there. I feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation.

As you know, I was to leave a week after you. My orders were to fly to London to work there for three weeks, then get new orders. That’s not important though. What is important is that week that I spent alone was torture.

I wasn’t raised ignorant of the troubles of the world. Just like the rest of our age, I grew up in the Great Depression. My parents lost their job, and we almost lost our house. I grew up with the aftermath of the first World War. According to my mother, my father never recovered. War does that to people. It rips away your soul, takes your very being. I knew that.

When the second World War started, I would lay awake next to you and pray that US wouldn’t get involved. It was my worst nightmare. When the US did join, I knew, somehow that our lives were over. You probably don’t remember that I spent almost every waking moment with you. I was so happy when you proposed, but heartbroken as well. I just knew.

Knew that we weren’t coming back.

I spent the days of that week after you left getting things in order. Papers in the lockbox, hide the lockbox key. Cover the furniture to preserve it. I took care of everything. I left the ring in the lockbox.

I spent my nights awake in your chair, wondering what you were doing. Wondering if you were thinking of me. I’ll never know.

I was in Germany during December of 44. I was traveling with a group of soldiers. Everything happened so fast. Gunshots, yelling, blood. So much blood. That shade of red in the snow will always be etched into my brain. The German soldiers took prisoners, I was one of them. Out of the 25 I was traveling with, I ended up being the only survivor.

I transferred into the hands of Hydra. A replacement for a dead lab rat. My predecessor. They tortured me for so long. Wore me down to nothing. Humiliated me for game.

Every night as I laid in my cell, all I could think of was you. The memories of us in those three years. How perfect they were.

Of course, they weren’t perfect. We had fights, but they were never too bad. The apartment itself wasn’t great either, but it was home. The ceiling leaked in the bathroom, the floors creaked in the hallway, and the water took fifteen minutes to heat up. When you’re being tortured though, I guess that the mind only sees the good. I fixated on the apartment. It became the safe place. The only place in the world where the monsters couldn’t get to me. I held onto this place as long as I could.

But as much as the apartment was my safe place, all my memories of it were with you. So you had melted into that feeling of safety.

After they blocked away those memories, I didn’t even know they were gone. I became their puppet, a lab rat with no past or identity. Until I met you again. I didn’t know you, those memories were tucked away. My heart knew you though. I felt safe around you, which didn’t make sense because you were the Winter Soldier. Oh, but we worked well together. We did a couple missions, and I was living off an emotion I didn’t even know the name to.

Love. I didn’t know what that word even meant anymore, or what it felt like, but my heart reminded me every time you looked at me.

In the end, it was my fault that you ended up with the trauma you carry around pertaining to me. I got emotional when it was time to go, and we both suffered the consequences for it.

That happened in 1997. I went onto ice for the last time with a damaged windpipe, minor brain damage, and no memories to speak of. I was sent to Africa, and was going to be undergoing testing there, but my handlers got killed. I remained on ice for 27 years until Wakandan soldiers found me.

Shuri worked for 6 months to get rid of all the damage done to me with help of the notes that traveled with me. I spent 7 more months drowning in everything. I remembered everything. Every test, every horrid thing they did to me. But the worst part was remembering you. Remembering you and knowing what happened to you broke me.

It turns out I was right all along. We weren’t going back. I had to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t going to come back to me. So I reveled in the memories of you. Of us.

I had so many emotional setbacks, I was stuck reliving memories just from small triggers. A wrong look could send me spiraling into a black hole. But then I’d remember the apartment.

I couldn’t wait to go back. The one thing that had kept me sane, alive, and hopeful. The king paid for a plane ticket and I was back in New York. I wasn’t ready.

I had been so stuck in remembering that I didn’t, couldn’t, process the new. Still I persisted, until I could be in that apartment again. I had convinced myself that it would fix everything.

That it would fix me.

But you probably know that isn’t how life works. Those same memories that propelled me and kept me afloat, are now the anchor that drags me under. I’m drowning in the memories, and they cling to me. I’m trapped in a prison of my own making, unable to leave the ghosts haunting my memories of things that will never be again.

I stay awake at night reliving the days where I was happy, carefree, and in-love. But the truth is that I can’t sleep in the bed we shared because you aren’t in it. I can’t look at pictures of us, because we aren’t them anymore. I can’t wear the ring, because we are strangers.

So I live in a museum of things that shouldn’t exist anymore because I can’t move on. This apartment is killing me inside, but I can’t leave because I’ve convinced myself that this is the only place I’ll be safe.

The truth is, I am safe in this apartment, because the only thing that can hurt me here is myself.

Along with this letter, I’m also returning the ring. It belongs to you. I have also included your bank account numbers, so that you can access your accounts. I’m sure you won’t have as much trouble as I did.

I’d offer you a key, but I don’t think you’d ever want to step foot in here again. Truthfully, if I were you, I wouldn’t either, lest you get stuck here too.

Maybe in another life we could have been together longer, but just not in this one.

Love,

Sincerely,

Y/N

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky fic #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel universe #the avengers #x reader #reader insert

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dom--minnie · 3 years

Text

Ready

Content: historical fantasy au (eh???), non-graphic death, injuries, violence, lemme know anything else?

Word count: 1494

Unofficial sequel to ease by @fizzydrink698 ! I was just inspired by Fi’s big brain, as usual really. And read hers first of course

You stand beside the king, anticipating the next few minutes of your life. It has all been coming to this, the last few years of hard work finally coming to fruition. The king turns his head slightly in your direction, to where he knows you are standing and waiting in the shadows.

"Come forward. I want them to see the cause of their undoing."

The request doesn’t surprise you, but it does make you sigh and take an extra second before doing as you were told. A few more minutes, seconds even, by now, and then… and then you would be free. Your family would be free, finally free from the debt that had bound you here.

The last 2 years have admittedly been easier, fun even, if you will. Being around the Thunderous camps was easier than being in the tense atmosphere of the castle. With the Thunderous soldiers everything had felt more like camaraderie, and less like anyone and everyone wanted you to fail. That didn't matter. It didn't matter how badly you craved attention and friendship like that, this was what your life was like now.

The harsh kicking in of the door startles you from your thoughts. Almost reflexively, you step back before a harsh glare from the advisor stops you. Right, you are a sign of what Thunderous had lost and would lose.

Two soldiers drag Chan in and you almost wince at how bad he looks. A black eye, puffy cheeks, and a good number of cuts on his arms. Still, he doesn't look up or make a sound as they scrape his knees across the rough carpet. Not too kindly, the guards toss him onto his knees at the bottom of the throne steps. When he doesn't look up one of them kicked his side and the heavy wince told you there’s at least bruising there, knowing those two, likely much more.

His eyes, the warm, brown eyes that you got so used to looking at. Now, when they land on you it is only with disdain and betrayal. You know it’s deserved, but that doesn't stop the hurt that comes along and tugs at your heart. Still, you preserve your features in passivity, not betraying how much you still care. Caring can't put Chan back in his untouchable leader position, and caring would never free your family from that prison.

"Bang Chan. Or Chris, whatever it is you go by now."

Chan's nose wrinkles at the way the king spat out his name, not seeming to know or care about the danger he is in.

"I'd rather you keep your name out of your dirty mouth entirely, honestly."

The same guard kicks Chan's side again and the gasp followed by heavy breathing is heard by the whole room.

"Now, now, Seb. Be nice to our guest. Even if I wish that filthy dogs like him didn't have tongues to speak."

Chan scowls and rolls his eyes, keeping his head up for the king to see.

"Am I just here so you can insult me or is there a reason I was kicked about 17 times on the journey?"

You instantly know that Seb was responsible for many of his visible injuries then. Some of them may have been from the initial capturing but the bruises are an extra gift from Seb for sure. Despite that, Chan still looks strong. He has a set to his shoulders that showed his strength, and his constant back talk shows no fear. You’re impressed, honestly. Usually, by the time people get back to the castle they are silent and resigned, beaten mentally and physically.

"Of course. You are to be put to trial for many things. Would you like to know the full list or shall we just get on with throwing you into your cell? I'm sure your fellow rats will be happy to see you."

The amount of comparisons to dirty animals, this is getting boring. You may think that such a famed speaker would have more creative insults, but alas, here you are having to listen to the same thing again and again.

"I'm sure most of them are garbage so I'll pass. Though, I do wonder how many of them are your crimes just passed on to me?"

You raise an eyebrow at Chan's boldness. He has never said it outright but most people in the castle know that the king is doing less than savoury activities to try and turn people against Thunderous.

"Soldier."

Despite the number of soldiers in the room, you know he means you. With an inward sigh you step forward and kneel in front of him.

"My liege, what can I do for you?"

Your head is down and that's why you don't see the same 2 guards stepping away from Chan and grabbing hold of your shoulders.

"Now that you've done such a wonderful job completing this quest, I think you're due a reward."

They pull you up and the shock freezes your body. The king looks down upon you as they drag you away.

"Into the dungeon. That way you can be with your family again! Isn't that what you wanted after all?"

Before you can even think again the room explodes with light. When your eyes and mind recover there are stones falling from the walls and the edges of fabric are singed. Hurriedly, you put out the embers on your clothes, the flames burning with the slightest touch. Chan isn't as weak as he had appeared before and is now standing at the centre of the flames. He is untouched and you’re slightly awed by the demonstration of his power. Not full out, he isn't well enough for that, but it’s telling as to how much you should be fearing for your life right now.

A single glance to the throne tells you that the court warlock had appeared and stolen the king away before too much damage could be done. Heavy steps start towards you and you fall to your knees, praying only that he will make it quick.

The footsteps stop and you look up at Chan when he says and does nothing. The look on his face is indecipherable to you, even with how long you've spent with him.

"Everything you did, and he still threw you to the dogs like that?"

It takes your brain a moment to catch up. The king was absolutely preparing to throw you in the dungeons. After the years of endless work that you did for him, and he was just never planning to follow through on it. The thought nearly makes you sick to your stomach. That, and what he may have told your family in the meantime. At this point, they might think you're dead or have abandoned them and moved on.

"I... Please, just don't kill me before I get them out. After that, I am yours to deal with. I wouldn't blame you for anything you do."

The words are hard to choke out and your voice ends in a whisper. Knowing that you're signing yourself off to the mercy of someone you betrayed is practically a death sentence.

You seem to forget it's Bang Chan you're dealing with.

"Do you want to come back to the Thunderous camp with me?"

What? Your confusion is more than obvious on your face and Chan laughs a little before speaking again.

"After we get your family out of those gross dungeons, of course. Do you want to come join Thunderous with me? Officially this time, not so you can plan for my kidnapping again."

You wince at his carefree way of speaking about the horrible actions that have certainly happened to him over the last week or so. The last year if you’re counting all your spying.

"So... wait. You're not killing me?" Chan shakes his head once. "And you want me to actually join you? Even though the last time that happened..." Chan nods his head twice.

"Bang Chan. You're either very kind or very stupid. I hope I'm right about which one it is."

You take one more look around the room at the people who you were often with over the last few years. It's strange to see them completely unmoving, and it'll take a while to sink in that you'll never see them again.

"Okay," you breathe out heavily. Starting to stand up your knees wobble a little, even if you thought you got over the adrenaline from before. Chan's hand shoots out to your shoulder to steady you. When you don't stop him he grabs one of your hands to help pull you up as well.

He's warm, so warm, and you immediately miss it as soon as he steps away.

"Ready?" He asks, a small smile on his face.

"Ready." You say, mirroring the smile.

You've said it to your captains a thousand times, but this time, you really mean it.

#stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenario #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #chan scenario #chan drabble #chan x reader #stray kids x reader #my writing #skz scenario #skz oneshot #skz imagine

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Note

Do you have any salt about Furious Fu? Maybe it’s just me, but something is rubbing me wrong.

yes, take the salt

Firstly, the episode freaking begins with the kwami arguing with Marinette over wanting to go see Fu, who is apparently coming back to Paris for a while for no explained reason (Marinette's there so we can imagine that she's part of it but that’s not enough).

Sure, they explain that they miss him because they were with him for over a hundred years but they were in the box for basically all that time?

They also give her puppy dog eyes and I s2g we’ve done this and had a lesson around it in "The Puppeteer"...

And... look, I get it, the show clearly wants Marinette to struggle at being guardian, meaning that the kwami have to be a hindrance of sorts, but it'd be nice if they didn't do that by behaving like literal children. It's not even that I can't see some of the kwami acting this way, because we don't even know all of their personalities, but when they all share one personality - and brain cell apparently to not understand why they can't come along - it makes the kwami less like actual characters and more like props.

I complained about it in "Sandboy" as well but at least that episode had Sass be an odd one out and showed moments of the individual kwami having lines separate from each other. Barkk is the odd one out here, but it feels more like a necessity, like someone had to stay behind (and maybe they thought it was funny to have it be the “guard dog,” which... you know what, fine, I’ll give them that).

Even if they were in groups, it would've been nice to see each kwami have different opinions, some liking Fu, some not, and some being indifferent to him. I just can’t see characters like Sass or Trixx or Pollen (especially Pollen, who seems to be the “takes orders” type) begging so hard to go.

The kwami even keep making noise in Marinette’s bag even though she told them to keep quiet. Again, it's way too convenient that so many of the kwami who were in the box act like this, and I hate that it's just another jab at Marinette for being “too nice” by letting them roam freely outside of the box. It’s as if the episode is saying, “See, Marinette?? If you just trapped them in the box and didn’t give them a say in things then this wouldn’t have happened!”

There’s also the scene later with Wayzz literally crawling on the ground towards Fu which--why. Did they really want to stretch the “they’re acting like children,” thing that much? Because Wayzz could’ve just flown under the bench and watched from below, but instead we get Marinette panicking and being embarrassed and having to lie because Wayzz kind of “fanboys” over Fu touching him??

Then there’s Su-Han who just--is a mess?? Like, first off, he invaded this teenage girl’s room and I would think that he’d have at least some respect for other people’s space. It’s really distracting that our flashbacks to the temple seem to imply that these people are more zen/chill (similar to Fu) but then this guy is strict and rude because of course he is. He has to criticize and pressure Marinette so they intentionally wrote him that way.

Secondly, there’s not even any self-awareness from him. He complains about how Fu didn’t live up to his expectations but I guess we’re just going to ignore that it’s pathetic that the temple didn’t keep tabs on the teenager who clearly didn’t want to be there.

Thirdly, he spouts a bunch of sayings/proverbs and it’s just--”hey did you know this character is Chinese???” (I’m not going to get on him for the “doesn’t know technology” since he just hasn’t been around in 150+ years).

Fourtly, the timing. I hate the timing. “Feast” happened like mid-Season 3 and now this guy shows up, after Marinette has had this responsibility thrust upon her? Not only that, but he shows up on the same day that Fu happens to make an appearance? “Kwamibuster” already tested my limits for coincidental happenings, but this episode went too far. It’s all too much.

Fifthly, there’s the lack of... consistency, I guess you could say? He says that Plagg is “free” even though Marinette just told him that Plagg has a holder, and then he blames Marinette for losing miraculouses (she did in the “Queen’s Battle” two-parter but there’s literally no way he’d know that) after Marinette tells him that FU lost the peacock and butterfly. He even pulls out a rulebook while doing so as if Marinette knows any of the rules, and he’s doing this to this teenage girl who became guardian while the temple was destroyed so there was no one else to teach her.

Speaking of "Queen's Battle," this episode does something similar by ignoring any plot point with Marinette and making it more about someone else, in this case being Su-han and Fu (Furious Fu specifically also spouts a bunch of proverbs by the way; ugh).

Remember how "Queen Wasp" gave Marinette the option of going to New York with Audrey, but then immediately brushes it aside and gives it no consideration in favor of Chloe, boiling down Marinette's whole thing to, "well, she's Ladybug so she can't go, end of story."? Here, we know for a fact that Marinette has been struggling in past episodes due to her status as guardian (something could’ve changed, though I doubt they’d drop that entire plot point in five episodes), but the episode doesn't even bring up the fact that Marinette might be happier without being the Ladybug guardian that she is. The kwami don't defend her as their guardian and Tikki doesn't have a big reaction to Su-Han essentially saying that he's taking her miraculous and forcing her to revoke her guardian status.

The episode is from Marinette’s perspective but it’s not about Marinette. She doesn’t really get a say or thought in things. We spend three full minutes in Marinette's room at the beginning and it's just wasted time when they could've spent it focusing on the actual conflict. I don't understand how the season’s trailers could put so much stock into Marinette suffering because of her responsibilities and then not even get into her being given the option to free herself from them.

Obviously we want Marinette to continue being an awesome Ladybug/guardian but we also want her to be happy, yet the episode presents this conflict as if Su-Han taking away - you know - the thing that’s caused her tons of anxiety and stress is a bad thing and only a bad thing. Su-Han is put in the wrong and Ladybug only gets one comment about how “maybe he’s right because we haven’t defeated Shadow Moth yet.”

I’m not saying that Su-Han is in the right - maybe there’s no better Ladybug than Marinette - but she’s been suffering for it and I hate that we don’t even get one moment of Marinette considering that she’d be free. Just something like Tikki or the kwami (who had already been set up to be a hindrance/annoyance to Marinette) feeling some level of guilt and thinking that it might be best if they leave.

But we don’t get that, because Marinette not being Ladybug means that the show’s plot is over. Therefore, it’s bad.

We’re also not given a reason as to why Marinette wants to continue being the Ladybug guardian. She’s willing to give up her miraculous and so is Chat Noir, but once the subject of Ladybug’s memory being wiped is brought up and Chat Noir is presented with the realization that she’ll forget him specifically (because of course it’s about him and not all the other potential memories she’d lose), he shifts gears and forces Su-Han to fight him if Su-Han wants his miraculous, which then suddenly gets Ladybug to change her tune as well.

And yes, we don’t know how much of Ladybug’s memory is going to be wiped because it’s not explained, and I also understand that Sunk Cost Fallacy applies where we’re not supposed to want Ladybug to wipe her memories because she already went through so much so why throw it away now, but...

If guardians are doomed to wipe their memory eventually anyway, wouldn't it be better for Marinette to do it now (cue all the Lukanette fanfics about Marinette forgetting and then being super uncomfortable around Adrien because all she feels around him is humiliation and discomfort) and at least have the rest of her life to build those memories back up than do it later and die not knowing such a large chunk of her life? We can presume that the show is going to have some way around the memory loss but they don’t know that.

So yeah, I don’t like that the episode basically comes in with the kwami being a burden to Marinette, Su-Han lecturing her (and there’s not even dialog about him potentially tutoring her; he only says that he’s sticking around Paris), and coming off of what we know are episodes based around Marinette suffering due to keeping secrets, yet the episode throws all of that under the rug because we’re supposed to not want her to give all her stress-inducers up for some reason.

#category: salt #episode: Furious Fu #other: ask and answer

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artzychic27 · 4 years

Text

Evillustrator Part Deux

These people have some nerve. Barging into the art classroom, his safe space, the only place in school where he can be himself without people looking at him weirdly. He can be loud and goofy and show his art without fear of being judged. But they just had to ruin it. By 'they' he means his classmates. Not the smart ones like Marinette, Alix, Rose, and Juleka. Yes, that sounded a little rude, but it was the truth! Ever since Lie-la came along with a big mouth full of lies, it's like the rest of the class had lost a good chunk of brain cells. He knows they're trying to be nice and accommodate for the 'disabled student', but they can't tell a con-artist when they see one!

Lila's been nothing but a thorn in the art club's side since she arrived, and all because they knew she was nothing but a lying, manipulative creature. So far, she's lied about Marinette doing a bunch of stuff she'd never do to her and almost got her expelled, Alix spray painting half of her wardrobe so Mylene, Sabrina, and Alya had to buy her more clothes with their money, Juleka cornering her in the bathroom and telling her to kill herself so the goth girl got detention she didn't deserve, and Rose stealing her lunch money which is how she afforded those cute new ballet flats and the other students had to buy Lila's lunch for her. Now it was Nathaniel's turn.

What has Lila said about him? She didn't really lie, but more like got on his bad side by suggesting he should find a new writer since Marc's work was "amateur", making little jabs at his art by saying loudly for the class to hear that her work has gotten many comic book artists' attention which then led to the class telling Lila that she should introduce them to Nathaniel. He said no, of course, since the artists were either dead or not real and they did not react well. They said he was rude, Lila was trying to help, and that's how he became one of the bullies of the classroom.

But then one morning, Lila told everyone that he stole her artwork. They were hesitant to believe her even despite believing Nathaniel was a bully since they knew he HATED art thieves with a passion, probably more than Marinette hated Hawkmoth. But when she showed them the hideously bright orange sketchbook with a crudely drawn cursive L on the cover in black sharpie and flipped through the pages slowly so the class could admire what Nathaniel realized was other artists' work he saw on Instagram that she was claiming as her own.

After seven long minutes, Lila finally stopped on a page that had the class immediately go off on Nathaniel when they recognized that it looked exactly like the art, the original art, on the school website. Alix and Marinette tried to defend him the best that they could, but the sausage-haired brat was a step ahead, saying that she sometimes brings her sketchbook to school and keeps it in her locker because she was always so nervous about what people would say about her art, and Nathaniel must've broken in, took a picture of the page, traced the art, and passed it off as his own. The class was torn, but they were leaning more towards Lila’s side because 'Why would Lila lie?'

Throughout the entire day, Nathaniel was forced to listen to the class asking if he was jealous of Lie-la's art being 'far better than his' (Her words), interrogating him to see if he stole anyone else's art, and they even had the gall to tell Mme. Bustier what Lila had told them. He missed his lunch and was instead tortured by Mme. Bustier lecturing HIM on why art theft is wrong, and that he needed to be the bigger person and apologize for stealing Lila's art. No matter how many times he explained to the woman that Lila lied, she just wouldn't listen! He had so much more respect for Marinette than he already did. She would go on and on about Mme. Bustier telling her to be an example and apologize when she was the one who was wronged. He was going to learn how to bake and make that girl some macarons. When she finally let him go, lunch was already over! Thank God Marc, the best boyfriend in the world saved him half of his sandwich and an apple. He did not apologize, and he had no intention of doing so.

The rest of the day was spent with his actual friends coming to his defense every five minutes when one of them would try and get him to apologize for stealing Lila's art. And when they weren't doing that, they were tracking down the people whose art was stolen by Lila when Mylene found the art Lila had traced on Instagram and Twitter. It's like they're her personal guard dogs. He wanted to knock some sense into them and go- what Lila inappropriately calls- 'feral-mode' on them; a nod to his bipolar disorder. Going against his instincts, he went to Mme. Bustier about what Lila had said about him being Bipolar, but she told him, 'Oh, but Lila doesn't understand your condition. It's your job to explain it to her.' ... He just wants Hawkmoth to come in here and have an Akuma pummel this woman.

Finally, the day was over, they were all gone, and he could now spend time with his friends and a real teacher without being yelled at or accused of being an art thief... For about seven minutes.

"Just apologize," Alya urged.

With a glare, Nathaniel yelled, "For the last. Damn. Time! I didn't steal any art!" Where was M. Haberkorn when you needed him?

"Then explain why Lila's art is in your sketchbook!" Kim demanded.

Lila sniffed, "Nath, if you're jealous of me, I could have-"

"Why the hell would I be jealous of you of all people?"

"Don't be so rude!"

"Why are you saying this stuff?"

"Lila didn't do anything to you!"

"Guys," Alix snapped her fingers to grab their attention and quiet them down, "Nathaniel loathes art thieves. Why would he steal someone else's art? And what would he have to gain from it? He's already the illustrator for one of the best damn comics in Paris, and he's won contests with some of his work." She shot the redhead a proud look before turning back to her classmates, "So do tell us. Why would Nathaniel steal another person's art?"

None of them could come up with an excuse. None of them except Lila just when the art club thought they had won, "Well, maybe he was just insecure," she ignored Nathaniel's offended look and continued, "I didn't want to say anything, but some students were looking at his art on the school website and said it seemed... Amateur compared to mine."

Marinette whispered to Juleka, "Oh, she did not just say the A-word."

Alix coughed into her fist, "Bullshit!"

Alya glared at the pinkette, "Stop ganging up on her!" She turns to Nathaniel, "And Nath, you need to stop being jealous of Lila just because some people prefer her art-"

"Will you shut up already?!" Nathaniel screamed, stunning his classmates at his outburst. "I am not jealous of Lila! I never will be jealous of her because there's nothing to be jealous over!”

Nathaniel let out a sigh. He didn't mean to yell, but they were all just so frustrating. He was telling the truth and they couldn't see it. They're choosing to believe a liar they've known only for a few months over someone they've known for years. They all knew Nathaniel was the resident class artist and not once has he stolen another person's art; it was a level he would never stoop to, not even if you paid or threatened him to.

"Dude, you need to chill," Nino calmly said.

"No, he doesn’t." Everyone turned to the source of the new voice and saw Marc standing at the doorway with his red pencil case. The art club students became relieved when they saw the writer. Marc was a reasonable, level-headed person who could find red flags easily. He'd talk some sense into them all and maybe their Lila nightmare would be over. During lunch, the art club explained to him why Nathaniel was missing, infuriating the green-eyed boy. Because of Rossi, his boyfriend was forced to miss lunch and endure a lecture by a teacher who should really consider pursuing a different career. "Nathaniel is not an art thief." He brushed past them and made his way over to his boyfriend before kissing his cheek.

"Marc, don't defend him just because he's your boyfriend," Mylene said. And in response, Marc rolled his eyes.

"Even if we weren't dating, I'd still defend him." He points to Nathaniel's sketchbook as if asking for permission to hold it. With a nod, Nathaniel hands Marc his sketchbook, and the writer flips through the pages until he stops on the page with the sketch that started this mess. On the page is a full-body sketch of Ladybug, running with her hair out of its pigtails and flowing through the breeze. It took all of Marinette's will-power to not blush when Nathaniel showed her and the others before posting it on the school's website. What she loved most was that she was not wearing a skin-tight bodysuit, but instead, she was wearing battle armor and actually had on shoes. Maybe she could ask Tikki for an upgrade on her current suit.

"Nathaniel always uses the same art style," Marc pointed out. "During lunch, I caught a look at some of the pages in Lila's sketchbook and noticed that she had about ten different art styles. The sketch she claims Nathaniel stole looks very similar to his usual style." Before Lila can defend herself, Marc continued, "And I also noticed that your line art is very dark."

Marinette realizes what her cousin is insinuating and adds, "He's right. Most line art is light so that when an artist makes a mistake, they can easily erase it." She smirks, "So, care to explain why your line art is so much darker compared to Nathaniel's?"

Lila stammered for a response, "I... We-well my wrist-" Before she could say anything else, Alya rested a hand on her shoulder and said, "You don't need to explain anything to them. We know your innocent." After nodding in agreement with Alya, the students headed out of the classroom. Alya pulled Lila out and didn't notice her smirking viciously at the art kids or Alix giving her double middle fingers.

With a sigh of exhaustion, Nathaniel sat down and rested his head on the table. "What is wrong with them?" he groaned. Rose patted his shoulder sympathetically, "It's okay, Nath."

Marinette shook her head, "I try to remind myself that it's not their fault; Lila's manipulating them, but it takes a lot to convince myself that."

Marc took the empty seat next to Nathaniel and brushed his bangs to the side so Nathaniel could see him. "Are you okay?" Nathaniel nodded and mumbled, "Thanks, Rainbow." With a smile, Marc kissed his forehead, slid Nathaniel's sketchbook toward him, and pulled out his journal, "Let's just enjoy the quiet while we still have it."

Juleka nodded as she grabbed her bass, "Yeah, maybe I'll just fake being sick tomorrow."

"Nope!" Alix exclaimed. "There's strength in numbers, Jules. If we all have to suffer, then so do you." Juleka responded by strumming a few cords on her bass.

The rest of the class, sans Chloe and Adrien, decided to spend the rest of their day, cool off from earlier, and cheer Lila up by getting some of André's ice cream. Poor Lila didn't have any money on her because she donated almost all of her cash to her favorite charity, one that helped children from lower-income families. Ivan, being a nice guy, paid for her cone and Lila promised she'd pay him back... Yeah, like that would ever happen. Five euros and all she got was plain vanilla because André couldn't see her being in a relationship with anyone.

"Girl, maybe he just messed up," Alya told her. "André is getting old."

Nino reluctantly nodded, "Yeah. Maybe that's it." He's been getting ice cream from André since he was five, and the man was never wrong. He predicted his first love by giving him cotton candy, peach, and blueberry ice cream, and his future love with tangerine, lemon, and raspberry. If André gives you vanilla, that's it. No love for you. 'But why would Lila end up without love?' he wondered. She's nice, charitable, always meeting exciting people. It confused him.

If Nino could hear what was going on through Lila's head, he'd take it all back. 'Stupid Marinette. Stupid Alix. Stupid Rose. Stupid Juleka. Stupid Marc. AND STUPID NATHANIEL! That idiot has some nerve going against me! Just wait, Kurtzberg. I'll ruin your reputation so bad that not even your freak boyfriend will look at you! With that spineless coward of a Principal on my side, I'll make sure no school will take you!' "Guys, this was sweet of you, but I just wanna go home," she said in a tone that contrasted her inner voice.

Alya smiled and pulled her in for a hug, not noticing the scowl on the Italian's face, "We understand. Maybe you can draw something to make you feel better."

'Yeah, I'll find a sucker on Instagram, make a few tweaks, and have you all eating out of the palm of my hand.' "Yeah," she sighed. "That always cheers me up. I'll see you all tomorrow!" She waved then headed off in the direction of her home. Then once she was out of view, she ran towards the school and threw her ice cream on the ground, not caring about the pigeon she just hit. She was not going to let that stupid redhead get away so easily. She already had a ton of sinister ideas going on in her head about what'd she'd do to Nathaniel the second she caught him alone and those art club brats aren't there to help him.

Once in the school, Lila waited around a corner for him. So that no one would suspect anything, she pretended to be texting on her phone. It took five minutes until finally, Nathaniel walked out of the classroom with his sketchbook in his hand. Lila's original plan was to jump him and drag him into an empty classroom so she could threaten him to comply with her or she’d drag his reputation through the mud, but Marc was with him. She couldn’t have witnesses, or this would never work. But then everything worked out in her favor. The idiot was too distracted by his boyfriend to notice her or that he dropped his sketchbook on the floor when trying to put it in his messenger bag.

She quickly picked up the sketchbook once they were gone, and darted for the locker room. She looked around to make sure no one was there and opened Nathaniel’s prized possession. She scowled at all of the drawings of Marinette with hearts around her. “Obviously has no taste,” she muttered scornfully then continued flipping through the pages full of drawings of Ladybug, and her frown worsened the more she looked. He should be drawing a REAL hero like Volpina. Then she found a few pages with drawings of that boyfriend of his.

“Disgusting,” she sneered, then immediately tore out the page with a drawing of the two boyfriends hugging. She aggressively threw the book to the floor and stomped on it with the dirt sole of her boot, tearing and crumpling a few pages and damaging the spine. She picked it back up and proceeded to tear out more pages before getting a cruel idea. She went into the girls’ bathroom, turned on the faucet, and dropped the sketchbook into the sink. A twisted smirk spread on her face as she watched the water turn an array of colors. Satisfied, she pulled it back out and turned off the water before leaving.

She wasn’t done just yet. She looked for Nathaniel’s locker, which was easy. All she had to do was open every locker until she found the one with photos of Marc taped inside. Lila gathered up the pages she tore out, crumpled them up, and threw them into the lockers along with Nathaniel’s ruined sketchbook. By the time he opened his locker tomorrow, the pages will be dry and everything he’s drawn will be unrecognizable. Slamming the locker door shut, Lila walked out of the locker room feeling proud of herself, but not before she added a little insult to injury and taped a sticky note with an insulting message onto Nathaniel’s locker door. Tomorrow morning, Nathaniel will learn what happens when you cross Lila Diabla Rossi.

Nathaniel was not having a great morning. He accidentally set his alarm clock for the wrong time last night and woke up and three in the morning. He couldn't go back to sleep so he decided to do some late-night sketching until he felt tired. The only problem was that he couldn't find his sketchbook. He wanted to tear his room apart and look for it, but he didn't want to risk waking up his mom and having her come in, wondering why he was up so early. So he waited until it was 7:00 am when his mom was up and getting ready for the day.

He looked all around his room but couldn't find his sketchbook anywhere. 'It could be worse,' he thought to himself. He lost his personal sketchbook and not the one he used for his and Marc's comic. Now that would be awful. But losing his personal sketchbook was just as bad and embarrassing. It still had some of the sketches he did of Marinette back when he had a crush on her and some fanart from animes he wasn't comfortable showing anyone except for Alix and Marc, who showed him some fanfiction that only he was allowed to read.

"Maybe I left it at school," Nathaniel told himself once it was pretty clear that his sketchbook was nowhere in his room. Taking a few breaths to calm down and assure himself that maybe someone found his sketchbook and took it to lost and found, he got ready for the day.

After getting showered and dressed, Nathaniel made his way downstairs to have breakfast with his mom. Hearing him walk into the kitchen, Aya looked away from the stove and greeted her son with a smile, “Morning, sweetie.” Despite Nathaniel smiling, she knew something was wrong. She could tell by the way he was clutching his messenger bag and darting his eyes around the room like he was looking for something. “Is everything alright?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Did something happen at school? Was it that Rossi girl?” Ever since Lila first lied about her son, Aya would always take some time out of her schedule to listen to him vent about the dreaded girl. And in Aya’s opinion, she sounded like a real nightmare in need of a spanking.

“Yeah, but she’s not what I’m upset about,” he answered. “I can’t find my sketchbook. The black one?”

Aya immediately turned off the stove and went to hug him. Nathaniel loved that sketchbook. His father got it for him when he was seven and used up all of his other sketchbooks. It was one of the things he had to remember him by. “Well, maybe it’s at school. I’m sure you’ll find it, sweetie.” Seeing him smile, Aya kissed his forehead and went back to making breakfast, “Now go sit down sweetie; the hash browns are almost done.”

With a nod, Nathaniel sat at the table and thought to himself over and over, ‘You’ll find it, you’ll find it, you’ll find it.’

When he arrived at school, Nathaniel only had fifteen minutes to look for his sketchbook until class starts. He rushed into the library where the lost and found box was stored and asked the librarian for access to it. He took Nathaniel into the break room where a large bin sat in the corner of the room between two shelves filled with items too large to go in the bin. Quickly, he sifted through or tossed aside anything that wasn't his sketchbook. Textbooks, jewelry, one shoe, pants, a purse, but no sketchbook. With a frustrated groan, he put the items he tossed back in the bin so the librarian wouldn't get on his case for messing up the break room. "Where is it?!" Once out of the library, he kicked a wall in frustration and continued to look around for his sketchbook.

He remembered walking out of the art classroom with it, so it wasn't in there. If it fell out of his bag, someone must’ve found it. But why didn’t they take it to the lost and found? Maybe they put it back in his locker. None of the lockers have locks, so if a student finds something that another student lost, they put it in that student’s locker. Maybe someone did that. He still had seven minutes left, so he ran down the stairs, moved through crowds of students in the courtyard, and went into the locker room.

Once at his locker, Nathaniel furrowed his brown in confusion when he saw the orange sticky note stuck to his locker door. He took it down and read it, “‘You deserve this.’”

Still confused and a little anxious by what the note meant, Nathaniel slowly opened his locker, expecting a bucket of paint to fall on top of him or a spring-loaded boxing glove to knock a couple of his teeth out… This was way worse. There at the bottom of his locker was a dingy black book with crispy pages like someone had poured water on it and left it to dry in his locker. He found a few crumpled pieces of paper and unfurled them. He felt like he needed to throw up. These were sketches of Marc, Marinette, and some rough sketches for comics. He realized that they were from his sketchbook and a look of dread spread across his face when he realized that the dried-up book in his locker was actually his sketchbook.

“No, no, no, no!” He quickly took it out and tried flipping through the pages to see if anything had been salvaged, but he could barely turn them without a piece breaking off due to the dry paper. He flipped to the back of his ruined sketchbook and immediately started crying. There was smudged writing that he could barely read, but he could make out what was written at the bottom, ‘Make something amazing, kid. -Dad’ He clutched the book close to his chest and slowly slid down his locker and sat on the floor where he silently cried to himself.

The butterflies fluttered around as the window opened and illuminated on Hawkmoth. He smirked cunningly when he felt a powerful wave of emotions coming from Francoise Dupont. The Akuma hotspot.

“Such feelings of rage, and even more of sorrow.” He beckons for a pure white butterfly to land in his open palm. “This poor, disturbed boy.” He covers the butterfly with his other hand and fills it with dark magic using the Miraculous. Hawkmoth uncovers the butterfly, now an Akuma, and it flutters out of the window. “Fly away my beautiful Akuma, and evilize that boy!”

The Akuma flew over the city and towards the school where its target was. It phased through the walls so no students or teachers would see it, and went into the locker room where Nathaniel was still crying. He lifted his head up at the sound of its wings flapping and with a yelp, he got up and ran around the room to avoid the Akuma. Soon, he was backed into a corner with no way out. He turned his head away from the Akuma and shut his eyes tight as the evil butterfly merged with his sketchbook and turned it pitch black. The glowing, purple Akuma symbol appeared over his face. Nathaniel gripped his hair as Hawkmoth spoke to him, “Welcome back, Evillustrator.”

“Stop it,” he cried. “Not now.”

Hawkmoth paid close attention to the emotions he was feeling right now. It was mainly anger from having his sketchbook destroyed, but he was also grieving. A feeling Hawkmoth knew all too well. He could see the Akumatized object in his head and saw the damage that had been done to it. As a fellow patron of the arts, he knew the importance of a sketchbook to an artist. But there was something special about this one. Perhaps someone he lost gifted it to him. He spoke, “But why not? I too understand the pain of losing a loved one. Let me help you.”

“You’re not going to help me.”

“But I will. That sketchbook must mean something to you. Don’t you wish to find the one responsible?”

"..." Nathaniel’s look of fear morphed into a scowl when he realized who could have done this, “Yes.”

Hawkmoth smiled, “I won’t stand in your way this time. As long as you bring me the Miraculous, you may use your powers however you please. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, Hawkmoth.” Black mist bubbled up from his sketchbook and engulfed him. Seconds later, Evillustrator stood in place of Nathaniel with an upgraded outfit. His windswept hair is brighter and more vibrant, fading from orange to purple, to black. He had on a white v-neck tailcoat with four dark purple stripes and three circles colored red, yellow, and blue printed on, a black shirt that had darker cuffs with red, yellow, and blue buttons and a red swan neck collar, white gloves, purple pants, and red boots with a slight heel.

He lifted his right arm where his tablet was attached, tucked his repaired, dark purple sketchbook under his arm, and began drawing. Materializing out of thin air was a fake Nathaniel. With a smirk, Evillustrator handed the Akumatized object over to him and said, “You know what to do.” With a nod, fake Nathaniel opened the sketchbook to an empty page and pressed it to Evillustrator’s chest. Immediately, he disappeared in a flash of purple light. Nathaniel turned the book towards him and saw a sketch of Evillustrator motioning for him to leave. He closed the book and made his way to class.

Lila tried very hard to suppress a scowl when she saw the fake Nathaniel walking into the classroom with the sketchbook, she was so sure that she destroyed it. Was it all just a wonderful dream? No! She knew she destroyed that thing! But, wasn’t it black? She needed to destroy it so that redhead would learn his place. Before she could make her way to his and Marinette’s desk in the back, Mme. Bustier walked in, “Alright class, take your seats!”

‘Later,’ she thought to herself then went to her seat next to Alya.

Mme. Bustier began writing on the board, "Today, we'll- OW!" Out of nowhere, a baseball hit the side of her head, much to the shock of the class. She picked up the ball while rubbing the side of her head, "Where did this come from?"

Lila immediately shot her hand up and pointed to the back, "I bet it was Marinette!"

"I am way back here and it hit the side of her head!" She yelled, "If I had thrown that ball, it would have nailed her right in the back of the head!" The students on her side and the students on Lila's side got into a heated argument. Adrien tried to calmly tell Lila's side that Alix was right, but they just talked over him. Chloe, who didn't care, filed her nails. Mme. Bustier clapped her hands, trying to grab their attention, "Class, please!" They settled down, making her let out a breath of relief. "Now, Alix is right about the ball hitting me on the side," Alix shot Lila a victorious smirk. "We'll figure out who did this later, but let's just get to our lesson." She set the baseball down on her desk, eyeing it warily before turning back to the board.

Marinette rolled her eyes. It was way too early for Lila to be pulling this kind of crap. Also, where did that baseball come from? The windows aren't open, so it didn't come from outside. She turned to Nathaniel, intending to ask what he thought. None of the art club students really paid attention to Mme. Bustier's lessons since she rarely taught anything. And when she was teaching, Lila would steer the lesson over to an hour-long discussion about how she was related to some major historical figure. Marinette was pretty sure Vlad the Impaler and Catherine the Great weren't related.

Before she could say anything, she noticed him just staring at a page in his sketchbook. Just staring, not drawing. She couldn't see what he was looking at because he was holding the front cover of the book up. And what's even weirder was that he seemed to be nodding. When he saw her staring, he immediately closed his sketchbook and turned his attention to the front.

'Strange,' Marinette thought to herself then continued half-listening to the lesson.

Ten more minutes in, and Lila was telling a story about being the distant relative of some witch hunter from the Salem witch trials in the states. This allowed the art club kids to text each other on their group chat while everyone ate up whatever Lila said. But Marinette made a new group chat without Nathaniel.

Something's Up

Alix: Care 2 explain??

Rose: Is something wrong?

Juleka: You forgot Nathaniel.

Marinette: That's what this is about. There's something... Off about him today.

Alix: Oh, thank God! I thought I was the only one who noticed.

Rose: What's wrong with Nathaniel???

Alix: He's just all zoned out or something.

Marinette: I caught him nodding at his sketchbook.

Alix: I don't even recognize that one. All his sketchbooks usually have designs on them but that one is just solid purple. 🤔

Juleka: Now that you mention it... When everyone was arguing about the baseball, I noticed he didn't say or do anything. Just stared at his sketchbook.

Rose: That's odd.

Marinette: Maybe he's having an off day?

Alix: I did see him bump into the door frame when he walked into the classroom. So... Off day?

Juleka: Off day.

Rose: 👉🏻Off day👈🏻

Marinette: Off Day. Okay, Lila's wasted twenty minutes and we have two minutes left of class... Any weekend plans?

Rose: Family reunion! Can't wait!

Juleka: Luka and I are gonna watch a bunch of trashy high school movies from America. I'm interested in this one called The Outcasts.🍿🎥

Alix: Promised Jalil I'd do some nerd stuff with him.🤓

Marinette: Baking 🥐, sewing 🧵, typical day.

BRRRRIIIIIIING!

Marinette: And once again, we've learned nothing.

Alix: Ah, the glorious history of nothing.

Rose: My cousin majored in the Fundamentals of Nothing.

The students gathered their things and headed to their next class. As Nathaniel was packing, Mme. Bustier called out, "Nathaniel, can you stay for a minute?"

"Are you gonna be okay?" Marinette asked. At fake Nathaniel's nod, she left with the others, leaving him and Mme. Bustier alone.

The first thing she said was, "Nathaniel, I hope you apologized to Lila." When he didn't answer and just stared at her blankly, she sighed, "Nathaniel, I understand that you're upset."

"Upset doesn't even begin to describe how I feel, Caline!"

"But it's not Lila's fault," "Excuse me?!" "She just wants to make friends, and by antagonizing her," "You mean exposing an art thief?" "you'll be preventing her from doing so. Now, I expect you to apologize to Lila before the end of the day." "Or else, what, Caline?!"

The fake Nathaniel opened the sketchbook slightly, and immediately, a flaming arrow shot out of it and was dangerously close to hitting Mme. Bustier's foot. She looked at the redhead in shock before slowly backing away as he opened his sketchbook. "N-Nathaniel, wh-what are you- Aah!" The fake has pressed a blank page on her arm, and she disappeared with a scream. He turned the sketchbook towards him and there was Caline Bustier, now a pencil sketch hitting her fists against the paper and screaming to be let out. She was silenced by fake Nathaniel turning to the page with Evillustrator.

"Make sure there are none of those idiots left." With a nod, the fake shut the sketchbook and left just before the next class arrived.

Seventeen minutes in Mendelieve's class were spent learning about physics until the science teacher left once M. Damocles made an announcement over the PA system, telling the teachers to report to his office. That left Lila to take over and talk more and more about herself without the science teacher telling her to stay silent and pay attention. The art club was just minding their business in the group chat but listened closely when Lila started spewing lies about her famous artist uncle. They knew where this was going, and Alix got ready to fight tooth and nail for her friend. Finally, Lila brought up what happened yesterday, causing the students to give the fake Nathaniel wary looks or glares

"So," Kim said as he approached fake Nathaniel. "are you finally going to apologize for stealing Lila's art?"

Marinette huffed, "Guys, for the last time, Lila is lying! Nathaniel is not an art thief!"

"Well, let’s just see if that’s true," Alya said as she pulled out her phone to record and expose Nathaniel as an art thief. Before she could grab the sketchbook out of his hands, her phone was wiped away from existence. "MY PHONE! Where'd it go?!" Fake Nathaniel looked down at the sketchbook and smirked because he knew Evillustrator had something to do with that.

Alya continued to look for her phone, "It just disappeared out of thin air!" she exclaimed as she looked under the desk, believing she dropped it and didn't notice. "How does that just happen?!" As she and a few other students continued searching for her phone, Mme. Mendelieve walked back into class with a look of concern to replace her usually stoic face.

"Class, you wouldn't happen to know where Caline went, would you?" she asked. Everyone either shook their heads or said no. "Odd. No one can find her, When her next class went in, she was gone." She looks to the fake Nathaniel, "Nathaniel, you were the last to leave. Did she say she'd be going anywhere?" The fake looked like he was about to say something, but nothing came out. He instead shook his head. With a sigh, Mendelieve continued, "If she's not found or we don't hear from her in two hours, the school day will end early so the teachers can call the police to conduct an investigation." There were some scattered whispers. "I'm sure Caline is fine. Now, let's finish the lesson." The students who were helping Alya look for her phone comply and sit back down in their seats, but Alya kept searching for her phone, "Alya, sit down."

"But I can't find my phone," she said. "It just disappeared right out of my hand!"

"Miss Cesaire, you can try to look for it later," she said sternly. "But right now, we need to continue our lesson. Sit down." Alya reluctantly did so, and Mme. Mendleieve resumed what she was teaching the class before Damocles made his announcement. While she taught, Alix glanced over at the fake staring down at his sketchbook like Marinette said he was earlier. It was so weird. He was just staring and not doing anything. And how did Mme. Bustier just suddenly disappear without a trace?

Thirty minutes passed, and the students headed to lunch while Alya stayed behind to look for her phone with Nino helping her.

Fake Nathaniel managed to slip away from Marinette, Alix, Rose, and Juleka who were walking to the cafeteria as a group, something they did in case Lila tried anything, and he was now hiding in the locker room where Evillustrator was giving him instructions. “Kim often goes to the pool during lunch to practice,” he whispered. "Get him when he comes in." Right as he said this, the door was heard opening. The fake peered around the locker he was hiding behind and saw the athlete walking in and going to his locker. No witnesses were around. He opened the sketchbook to a blank page and sneaked over towards the athlete as he was pulling his gym bag out of his locker with some struggle.

When Kim finally managed to pull his bag out, it slipped out of his hands. The force he used flung the bag behind him, and it hit the sketchbook, making it disappear. Kim looked around to see where his bag went but only saw the fake, who shut the sketchbook before Kim could see what was on the pages. "O-oh. Hey, Nath." When he didn't answer, Kim sighed. "Silent treatment. Deserved that; I get it. Look, man I-I don't want to believe you stole Lila's art, but uh... I mean, why would Lila lie?"

"Because she's evil! Get him, now!"

"Still upset with me, huh?" He chuckled when the fake still didn't say anything.

"You have three seconds. Three."

"Again, I wanna believe you didn't do it."

"Two."

"But you and the girls have been kinda... Antagonizing her a bit?"

"One!"

The fake immediately clutched his left hand like he was in pain, getting Kim concerned. "Nath, what's wrong?!" He uncovered the fake's hand and was repulsed to find that his fingers were starting to vanish. "Oh my God!" Before he could say or do more, the fake mouthed, 'I'm sorry'. Then he opened the sketchbook and pressed the blank page to Kim's face. He disappeared with a scream. Fake Nathaniel dropped the sketchbook in favor of clutching his fingerless hand. The akumatized object was opened to the page with Evillustrator's angry glare, "Hesitate next time, and I'll erase your arm!”

The fake nodded frantically before letting out a sigh as Evillustrator drew on his tablet, making his fingers reappear. As he headed to the door, he heard a slight shuffling sound and turned around to see Myléne standing right outside the girls’ bathroom with her mouth agape.

”N-Nathaniel?” Myléne stammered as she began to slowly back away.

Fake Nathaniel approached her with the sketchbook opened to a blank page. Another silent ‘Sorry’, and Myléne was gone and trapped in the sketchbook. He flipped the pages back to Evillustrator, “Better. Now don’t stop until you have Rossi and those assholes!” The fake didn't want to do this, but he had to; it was how he was drawn. He was made to be a pawn in his creator's revenge plot, but he didn't want to do that. Evillustrator gave him the same personality he had pre-Akumatization, so this just felt wrong to him, but he couldn't go against his commands.

When fake Nathaniel nodded, Evillustrator arched an eyebrow and asked, "Can you speak?" He opened his mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. He shook his head. Evillustrator started drawing on his tablet, "Hold still." Fake Nathaniel's throat glowed a bright purple before dimming. "Say something."

"S... So... Some... Ting. S-something?"

"So glad I caught that. Now go!" Immediately, the fake put the sketchbook back into his messenger bag and left.

“Hey, Nath,” Marc greeted the fake as he sat down at their lunch table.

Fake Nathaniel smiled. He had his real counterpart's personality and all of his memories, so he knew exactly how to act and what to say (Now that he had a voice). “Hey, Rainbow.” He kisses Marc’s cheek and ignores the stinging sensation he’s feeling in his hand as one of his fingers is being erased. Evillustrator made him and can easily destroy him if he does something he doesn’t like. Apparently, kissing Marc is one of them.

”So, where were you?” Alix asked as she popped a grape in her mouth.

“Oh, I-I remembered that I left my locker open, and went to close it,” he fibbed.

“No point in that, Nath,” she shrugged. “Anyone can just go in and take whatever’s in a locker."

Marinette nodded in agreement, remembering her expulsion, then asked, “So, what do you guys think happened to Mme. Bustier? She couldn’t have suddenly disappeared; we all just saw her.”

Alix leaned back in her seat, uncaring, “Does it really matter? I think we could all use a break from her.” Juleka nodded, “Maybe Mendeleiev will be our substitute and actually put Lila in her place.”

”One can dream,” Rose sighed as she leaned on Juleka, making the goth girl wrap her arm around the blonde.

Juleka looked around the room. She furrowed her brow then asked, “That’s weird. Kim and Mylène aren’t here.”

”Well, Kim probably went to the pool,” Alix said as she looked for the activist. “But where’s Myléne?”

”Maybe she-“ Before Marc could finish what he was about to say, the doors slammed against the wall as Alya stormed in with Nino trailing close behind.

”Nino, a phone doesn’t just disappear like that!” she exclaimed. “There’s probably an Akuma around here!” Immediately, the cafeteria broke out into whispers about if Alya was right about the Akuma. “And Mme. Bustier suddenly disappearing? Explain that. She wouldn’t just ditch her job like that.”

”Tell it to the person doing most of her work,” Marinette muttered, making the students at the table laugh. Mme. Bustier would always force Marinette to do her work for her and say that they’re the duties of the class representative when really, the woman is just lazy to do the work herself. And when Marinette refuses, Bustier will use the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ voice until Marinette complied.

”You think this is funny?!” Lila whined. “Mme. Bustier and Myléne are missing, and it’s probably because there’s probably an Akuma loose in the school!”

Alix groaned, “Mind your own business, Rossi!” A couple of the students that were on Marinette’s side snickered. “And it’s called making light of a situation. Less negativity, fewer Akumas. You're welcome.”

”Why are you guys always so rude to me?” Alya asked before pointing to Marinette, “First you let your jealousy cloud your judgment,” then to Juleka, “you’re always telling Lila to kill herself,” Alix, “you ruined her clothes,” Rose, “you stole her money,” then Nathaniel, “and you plagiarized her art because you’re jealous of her, too! Why do you guys hate her so much?”

”Because she’s a liar,” Marc murmured. "Simple as that."

“I’m not!” Lila yelled with fake tears in her eyes that masked the glare she was sending the boy. “Why does no one believe me?!” Sabrina went to console her.

”We believe you, girl,” Alya reassured. “And we’re gonna prove you’re innocent...” Her eyes trailed to Nathaniel’s messenger bag, “Starting by proving Nathaniel did steal your art!”

Before the fake artist could react, Alya already had his messenger bag in her hands and now the akumatized sketchbook. “Lila, get your sketchbook, we’re gonna...” Her voice trailed off when she saw the moving sketches of Mme. Bustier, Kim, and Mylène, begging to be freed. The other students gathered around Alya and looked in horror at students and teacher trapped in the sketchbook.

Max pointed at the fake, “You-you’re the Akuma!”

With a sneer, he snatched the sketchbook out of Alya’s hands and pressed a blank page to Max’s face. He disappeared and was now trapped inside the sketchbook, alarming the students.

“Th-the sketchbook’s g-gotta be an Amok,” Nino stammered as he pulled Alya away from the fake. “H-he doesn’t even look like an Akuma!”

“There’s no Amok, and I’m not the Akuma.” He flips to the page with Evillustrator. “He is.” As the students stood in shock, the fake tore out the page, and it glowed a bright purple before morphing into Evillustrator, glaring menacingly at the Akuma Class.

”N-Nath?” Marc stammered as he cautiously approached his Akumatized boyfriend.

“Then who’s he?!” Alix grabbed the fake's wrist to prevent him from running and glared at him.

Evillustrator scoffed. ”He's not important.” Then, much to the fake's horror, he put the eraser to his tablet.

”No! Wait!” The fake cried as he was erased from existence, horrifying the students, Marc especially. The sketchbook dropped to the floor with a thud.

“H-how did-“

”Ask her!” He points a shaky finger at the Italian girl. “You,” he draws a lock on his tablet, “will not get away with what you did!” A couple of students, Marinette being one of them, managed to escape the cafeteria right before Multiple locks appeared on the doors, making it impossible for the others to get out unless they were crazy enough to jump out of the window.

”I-I didn’t do anything!” She lied while rubbing her eyes to look like she’s crying again. “Why are you trying to hurt me, Nathaniel?!”

”It’s Evillustrator, now!” He drew a missile on his tablet, and that same missile appeared next to him. The students ran for the doors and tried to pull the locks off, but they were too strong. “NO ONE LEAVES UNTIL SHE’S GONE!” He points his pen towards Lila, and the missile goes after her as she runs around the cafeteria screaming for help. Seeing that they weren't going to get out of this, the remaining students ducked under tables and chairs.

Ismael and Ivan ran towards Evillustrator to try and grab the pen, remembering how that was the Akumatized object last time Nathaniel was Akumatized. Quickly, he jumped out of the way, causing the two boys to collide and fall to the floor, groaning in pain. Evillustrator grabs the sketchbook off the floor and pressed a blank page on them, making the two boys disappear into the sketchbook.

Seeing that the missile was getting closer to her, Sabrina quickly got up from under a table and tackled Lila to the floor before the missile could hit her. It instead crashed into a wall, creating a massive hole that allowed the students to escape. The art club students stayed behind, though, hoping that they could calm their akumatized friend down. Evillustrator was about to run after them, but Akux grabbed his wrist.

”Nath, wait!” she pleaded while trying to not look like she’s afraid of the enraged Akuma that used to be her best friend. “Let’s just talk about this, okay? What did Lila do to you?”

Evillustrator’s glare softened as he looked into Alix's eyes. He needed to get his revenge on Lila but she was keeping him from doing that... “Forgive me, Alix.”

”What?”

Before Alix knew it, she was trapped in the sketchbook, shocking the remaining members of the art club. Marc was about to approach him, but Evillustrator held his sketchbook close to his face, making the writer back away. “Don’t make me do something I will regret, Rainbow,” he warned then ran out of the cafeteria.

Many of the students took refuge in the locker room, their main place to hide during Akuma attacks in the school. They begged Damocles for months to actually build some sort of Akuma safety shelter in the school, but it was always the same thing, 'There's not enough money in the budget.' Well, there certainly was enough for him to create a secret compartment hidden behind the wall for his Owl stuff. Thinking about how much of the money they made during fundraisers being spent by him to create those toy weapons often gave the students horrible headaches.

The students flinched when they heard Evillustrator's booming voice from the second floor of the school, “WHERE ARE YOU LILA?!” A few brave students looked out the window and saw Evillustrator erasing the walls to every classroom he passed by. “YOU’RE WEAK, YOU KNOW THAT?!” He erases the door to a storage closet, revealing two very scared students cowering at the sight of him. The students not targeted by him couldn't help but feel sorry for the Akuma. Whatever Lila did must have been awful to make Nathaniel this upset.

With a frustrated yell, Evillustrator got the two students with his sketchbook. Once they were gone, he jumped down from the second floor and into the courtyard, making the students get away from the window, hoping he didn't see them. Jean Duparc looked around to make sure everyone was safe or not doing anything to attract the Akuma. A few were nervously biting their nails or twirling their hair, others were texting their parents, and next to him, Aurore and Mireille were updating their blog, 'BugOut & CatChat'. Instead of recording Akuma battles like Alya with the Ladybug, they analyzed the akumas and gave descriptions of their powers, let the public know of the Akuma's location so they could avoid it and so Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn't find it. And just for laughs, they critiqued Hawkmoth's fashion choices for Akumas. So far, there was nothing about Evillustrator's new outfit that needed critiquing. He bumped Trouble Maker down to 2nd place on the 'Best Dressed Akuma' list.

“Come out now, or so help me, I will-!” He stepped to the side when Ladybug’s YoYo flew right past him and retracted back to the spotted heroine standing at the top of the stairs. “You’ll have to be quicker than that, you pest!”

Chat Noir dropped in next to Ladybug, “Well, what’s got him so steamed up?”

“Lila,” she groaned, making Chat roll his eyes in annoyance at the mention of the liar. He's given that girl enough chances, as Chat and as Adrien. He was done. ”Let’s get this over with.”

The two heroes ran towards Evillustrator and were already dodging giant boxing gloves, buzz saws, and pitchforks drawn by him. Ladybug threw her yoyo, which he ducked under then drew something on his tablet. A hole that Ladybug would’ve fallen into if Chat Noir hadn’t grabbed her hand in time appeared under her feet.

Evillustrator drew two more buzz saws and sent them at the heroes. Chat Noir quickly got in front of Ladybug and spun his staff, making it act like a shield that deflected the saws. One sliced through the middle of a bench, revealing Lila. He smirked, "FOUND YOU!" He threw his sketchbook at Lila, but she ran out of the way and it hit one half of the bench before coming back to him like a boomerang. Evillustrator continues throwing his sketchbook at the liar while also drawing projectiles whenever the sketchbook was out of his hands. The first round of projectiles was easily deflected by Ladybug and Chat Noir, but there were just too many on their second round. One of them gets one of Ladybug's pigtails, cutting off a few inches and making her hair look weird. Another one nicked Chat on the ankle. He whispered a curse and clutched his ankle.

With Chat Noir subdued, Ladybug had to protect both of them and deflect the rest of the projectiles while Evillustrator went after Lila. As he chased her up the stairs, Evillustrator drew a couple of darts that pinned Lila to a wall by embedding them through her clothes. As she struggled to get free, Evillustrator calmly approached her while drawing on his tablet. "Don't look so afraid Lila. You had this coming after what you did."

"I didn't do anything!" she screamed. "It's not my fault that people like my art better than your-" She's silenced by a cleaver appearing in Evillustrator's hands.

He chuckled darkly, "I am going to enjoy this." After aiming for her head, he threw the cleaver. Lila turned her head away, believing that the cleaver hitting the side of her head would be less painful than it hitting her face. She waited, but the cleaver never came, and there was a 'clank' sound. Lila opened an eye and saw that Chat Noir, being supported by Ladybug, had deflected the cleaver with his staff.

"Took you long enough!" she complained. "Get me down from here!"

Ladybug took a deep breath as she assessed the situation. She could either be a hero and save Lila, or still be a hero and rid the world of Lila... 'Fine!' She made her way over to the sausage-haired girl and slowly took out the darts, and was clearly trying to keep herself from stabbing Lila with the very sharp ends. Once the last dart was removed, Lila pushed Ladybug into Chat, making him stumble a bit and lose his composure before making a run for it.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Evillustrator yelled, enraged. He grabbed Chat's staff while the leather-clad hero was still gripping it, and flung him over the railing, making him fall and crash onto the hard courtyard floor.

"Chat!" Ladybug called out. Angered, she threw her yoyo at the Akuma, but he caught it and opened his sketchbook, much to Ladybug's horror. Before the weapon could make contact with the page, Chat's staff extended and the end hit the side of Evillustrator's face. He fell to the floor and clenched his jaw. With him down, Ladybug ran for the sketchbook, only for a glass wall to appear between her, the Akumatized object, and Evillustrator. He drew something else on his tablet, and multiple swords appeared, all pointed at Ladybug.

"Stay out of my way!" He growled. Ladybug swung all around the courtyard as the swords chased after her. Seeing that there were still some students around, she led the swords into an empty classroom and proceeded to dodge them there. Seeing Chat Noir about to vault over to him, Evillustrator drew a giant boxing glove that knocked Chat down to the floor. He was in the middle of drawing an anvil when suddenly, a gloved hand grabbed his wrist. He looked up to see who had the nerve to stop him, but his anger diminished when he saw that it was Marc. "Rainbow, what are you doing?"

"Nath, you gotta stop!" Marc pleaded as he intertwined his and Evillustrator's hands.

"You don't know what she did, Marc!" He exclaimed. "You weren't there! Now let me go!" He tried to pull his hand out of Marc's grasp, but the writer wasn't letting go. 'Rossi's getting away! I can't let her get away with this!' With some reluctance, Evillustrator raised his sketchbook and tried hard to ignore the sad look in Marc's eyes. Just as he was about to press the page to his chest, Marc was pushed to the side, and the page instead was pressed to Rose's face, making her disappear into the sketchbook.

"ROSE!" Juleka and Marc cried out.

Evillustrator hit his fist on the metal railing in anger, "DAMN IT! SEE WHAT ROSSI'S MAKING ME DO?!" Hurridly, he drew a jetpack that appeared on his back. He pointed to Chat, "If you or Ladybug get in my way again, I WILL ERASE YOU BOTH FROM EXISTENCE!" Before he took off, he noticed Alya peering from around a corner. She was recording the fight using Nino's phone. When she noticed his eyes on her, she quickly made a run for it, but Evillustrator was faster. He hoisted the journalist over his shoulder.

"You're coming with me!" he yelled. "I want you to be there when Lila finally gets what's coming to her!"

"Wh-what are you- AH!"

Evillustrator flew out of the school just as Ladybug ran out of the classroom with her pigtails missing a couple of inches, one side strand missing, and some cuts on her face. She knew Evillustrator was a dangerous Akuma. He nearly drowned her and Chat and almost killed Chloe with a buzzsaw, but this was next level brutal. Hearing a groan, she looked and saw Chat Noir slowly climbing up the stairs with a slight limp. "Chat, are you okay?"

He shook his head, "No, m'lady. He got my ankle bad."

"Ladybug, Chat Noir!" Nino called out as he and Sabrina approached the two in-pain heroes. "Are you two okay?"

Ladybug gave a nod, "Yeah, we're fine. And don't worry Nino, we'll get Alya back."

Nino let out a breath of relief before Sabrina said to Ladybug, "Hey, after you were helping Lila down, I-I saw her push you. A-and before that, she sounded so rude when you were trying to help her." Ladybug frowned at that. She's saved that girl's butt so many times, and not once has she shown any gratitude. "Are you two having a fight, or-"

"No. We're not."

"Then why-"

Chat cut Nino off, "They're not friends, okay? Never have been, never will be."

"... Lila was lying?" Sabrina whispered to herself.

"And the sun sets in the west," Juleka muttered, making Marc give her a little nudge with his elbow.

The two bespectacled students cast each other looks of disbelief. Lila was lying about being friends with Ladybug, and she pushed the heroine into Chat, knowing he was injured and trying to fight Evillustrator. If she lied about that, what else could she have lied about? Pulling them out of their thoughts was Aurore and Mireille running over to Ladybug and Chat Noir with their phones.

"Ladybug! Chat Noir!" Mireille called out. "Alya's live-streaming right now." She hands the spotted heroine her phone, and the screen showed a live stream of the Ladyblog. Alya was in an odd position with a look of clear terror on her face that she was trying to mask with a brave smile. "He-hey, viewers! So, I am..." She looks down, and her eyes bulge before she looks back at the camera, "About a hundred feet above the ground right now, and I have nothing to hold onto! B-but don't worry. I mean, I'm slung over an Akuma's shoulder like a sack of flour, but at least he's not handsy like Pharaoh." She panned the phone to Evillustrator. "Care to comment?"

Evillustrator looks to the phone with an enraged look. "Lila Rossi, if you're watching this, I will find you! Be sure of it! And I might consider letting you live if Ladybug and Chat Noir hand over their Miraculous!"

Marc felt a tear about to escape out of the corner of his eye. What did Lila do to Nathaniel?

Alya panned the phone back to her horrified face. The fear of falling from a great height didn't phase her anymore. Now she was scared of the possibility of seeing an Akuma murder someone. Finally, much to her relief, they landed on a balcony.

"Wh-what are you doing here?!" A woman yelled.

Ladybug paused the video, "Thanks, you guys." She turns to Chat, "You gonna be okay?"

Chat gives her a thumbs up, "I'll be fine." He extends his baton, ready to vault out of the school. "Let's go!"

The two heroes swing and vault out of the school and head over to where Evillustrator is, leaving Lila's former followers to awkwardly stand with her haters.

"... We tried to tell you," Marc told Nino and Sabrina after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Evillustrator, this is going too far! Let her go!"

Evillustrator glared at the Italian woman tied up and gagged on a couch. Floating over her were about ten daggers, all of the blades sharpened to a deadly point. "Yes, spare the mother of a demon spawn," he said sarcastically. "You said that you'd stay out of my way!" He turns to Alya, who's trying to inch out of the room. "Don't. Go. Anywhere. And keep rolling! Let's see if Lila Rossi is all she claims to be."

Mme. Rossi lets out a loud muffled response. The Akuma approaches her and rips the duct tape off of her mouth, making her let out a pained yell. "What are you talking about?! What does this have to do my daughter?!"

Evillustrator gives the woman a pitiful look. It's sad how this woman doesn't know what her daughter has been up to. Well, now she'll know.

"MAMA!"

"Perfect timing," Evillustrator smirked as Lila ran up the stairs and into the living room.

"Mama, don't listen to him! He's an Akuma, and he's trying to hurt me!"

Evillustrator chuckled, "Well, that's not the whole story, is it?" He turns to Alya, still recording, "Paris, let's see how committed to her lies, Lila is. Would she put her own mother in danger just to avoid the consequences?" He approaches the scared and very confused woman. "Irene Rossi, your daughter has been claiming many things recently. Confirm a few things for me, okay?" Irene nods frantically. "Great. And if Lila tries to save face, then... I'm so sorry she's your daughter." He draws a ball and chain something on his tablet. That same one appears around Lila's ankle, preventing her from escaping. "Now, Irene. Tell us, have you ever met Prince Ali?"

Irene furrowed her brow in confusion. 'What is he talking about?' She shook her head, no. "What are you-"

"He's trying to make me look bad, mama!" Lila wailed. "Please, don't answer whatever he asks! It's a trick!"

"Damn, Lila," Evillustrator whispered. "I thought you loved your mother." He pointed to one of the daggers, and at his command, it dropped down, dangerously close to hitting Irene's shoulder and embedding itself into the couch cushion. All three women and everyone watching the Ladyblog Livestream let out horrified gasps. "This is what happens when you lie," he taunted. "So, you've never met Prince Ali? So, that would mean Lila's never worked on Go Green charities with him."

"What?!" Irene shrieked. "Prince Ali doesn't even work with Go Grene charities! He's devoted his time to helping children! Lila, what have you been telling people?"

Before the brunette has a chance to speak, Evillustrator interrupts, "Next question. Are you the descendant of a fox hero named Volpina?" Alya's jaw dropped at that question. "Did anyone in the family ever pass along a necklace with a fox-tail pendant down to Lila?"

Irene shook her head, "No! No one hasn't!" She glares at Lila, "The only family heirloom passed down is a wedding veil with the brides' names stitched on!"

"M-maybe you just didn't know about it!" Lila lied, much to Irene and Alya's shock. They saw what happened when she lied, and she's still trying to save herself. "Nonna passed the necklace down to me because she-"

"LIES!" Another dagger came very close to hitting Irene's foot. She managed to move it out of the way at the last second. "So shameful. Letting your mother face the consequences for your lies? Is there no level you won't stoop to, Lila?" When she didn't answer and instead glared at him, he asked Irene the next question, "Why wasn't Lila in school for what was it?... Three months?”

“I was told that school was closed due to an Akuma outbreak and that Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to stop them.”

”By Lila?”

”...” She nodded, ashamed, “Yes.”

Evillustrator smirked, “Well, while your daughter was relaxing at home, she’s been telling everyone that she was really in Achu with Prince Ali.” He adds, “And it takes Ladybug and Chat Noir about three hours to defeat an Akuma, so they’re not incompetent like your daughter says they are.”

Irene hung her head. How could her own flesh and blood be so deceitful? And how could she risk the life of her own mother like this?

”Aw, that’s so sweet!” Chat exclaimed as he and Ladybug landed on the balcony and made their way inside.

”Nathaniel, you’ve already exposed Lila,” Ladybug tried to reason. “Just hand over your Akuma so no one else gets hurt!”

”My name is Evillustrator!” he growled. “And that wasn’t even half the lies she’s told!” He turns to Irene, who’s gone pale learning that Lila's told more lies. “You thought those were bad? Just wait until you see what else she’s hiding.” He draws a gas mask that appears over his face and a smoke bomb that releases purple smoke all around the living room. There are some scattered coughs that decrease as the smoke clears up due to Ladybug and Chat Noir spinning their weapons. They act like fans and blow the smoke out of the window. When the room clears up, Evillustrator, Lila, and Alya are gone, but Irene still remains tied up on the couch with the daggers still above her.

“Where’d they go?” Ladybug wondered aloud before Chat went to go untie Mme. Rossi.

”Th-thank you, b-both of you,” she stammered while eyeing the still-floating daggers. “I-I am so sorry for what I th-thought of you, I’m sure you’re both-“

”Ma’am, it’s alright,” Chat told her. “Lila was the one making us look bad; you didn’t know.”

"Maledetto," Irene sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Looking back, some things Lila has been telling me did seem far-fetched. The school being closed for months, every student and teacher being akumatized, the people working for the media have been held hostage." The heroes give her unbelieving looks. "Yes. I realize how dumb it sounds now, but I'm new to these... Akumas, and Miraculous. I... I thought I could trust her."

Ladybug rested a hand on the woman's shoulder and gives her a sympathetic look, "We'll set your daughter straight, Mme. Rossi. You can be sure of it." As the woman smiled, Ladybug called her for her, "Lucky Charm!" The object that dropped down into her hands was, "A ram's horn?"

Chat Noir scratched his head in confusion, "You gonna play a little tune?"

"That's also what convinced me you two weren't capable," Irene said. "You rely on random objects to defeat an Akuma?"

Ladybug looked around the room, trying to find a way to use the Lucky Charm, "Well, they do help in battles. I just need to figure out how to use it."

"Hey!" Chat piped up, "Isn't there a Goat Miraculous?"

Ladybug recalled seeing a Goat Kwami when she was battling Kwamibuster, and she wore horn-shaped barrettes. "You're right, Chat! Go and follow Evillustrator, I'll be with you soon." With a salute, Chat was gone. Before she left, Irene told her in a low, threatening voice, "Bring her back, so I may give her the punishment she deserves."

Ladybug tensed, "Well, with what Lila's been doing, she'll probably be out of your hands and in the polices'." She left before Irene could ask what she meant, leaving the Italian woman to sulk in her living room.

'What did she do to him?!' Marc wondered over and over as he sat in the art room with Juleka, furiously writing his feelings down in his journal. Both of them needed a break from the guilty look of Juleka's classmates and decided to spend the rest of the day in the art classroom. It was so quiet without the others.'That sausage-haired jerk deserves what's coming to her!... Maybe not death.'

Juleka takes a peek over Marc's shoulder to read what he's written. Her eyes go wide when she sees the many words Marc has used to describe Lila... Well, he was right. "You feeling better?" she asked.

Marc looked up from his journal and turned to face the goth girl. "... I need worse words for her." Juleka chuckled and took the seat next to him. "I have used every curse word and insult I could think of to describe Lila, and none of them are strong enough."

Juleka pulls out a pencil, "Try this." She writes something down on the corner page of his journal and has him look at it, leaving Marc's face a crimson red. "Eh?"

"Juleka," Marc gasped. "Wh-where did you-"

"You won't believe what mom said around me," she smirked. "One of them was actually Luka's first word." Her amused expression turns sour, "I still think those words are too good for Lila, though."

"Every curse word is too good for her," Marc joked, making Juleka laugh. Cutting off their amused laughter was the sound of something hitting a window. They turned around and saw Ladybug standing on a ledge right outside the classroom. They ran over and opened the window, allowing the heroine to come inside.

"L-Ladybug, what are you doing here?" Juleka asked in awe.

"The Lucky Charm told me to come here." She turns to Marc, "I'm gonna need to borrow you for a while, Marc." The emerald-eyed boy stood, frozen in shock. Ladybug. The Ladybug wanted to borrow him! Realizing that he's just been staring at her for a while, he snapped out of his daze and nodded.

"Y-yes! Of course!"

"Smooth," Juleka whispered.

Ladybug wrapped her arm around Marc's waist and threw her yoyo out of the window. Once it wrapped around something, it pulled the two out of the classroom, leaving Juleka alone.

"... Might as well go home," she said to herself before gathering up her stuff.

Once she and Marc were on top of a roof, Ladybug moved them to hide behind an air vent, away from the public view. "Marc, what I'm about to ask you is very important, okay?" Off his nod, she pulled out a hexagonal box in front of her. "Marc Anciel, here is the Miraculous of the Goat, which grants the power of Compassion. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the Miraculous to me."

Marc was speechless. He wanted to faint, scream, and jump up and down like a child on Christmas morning. Ladybug. Was asking him to assist her in saving Nathaniel... But what if he failed? Nathaniel would stay an Akuma forever, he'd fail Ladybug and Chat Noir, and-"

"Do you accept?" Ladybug asked, concerned when Marc didn't give her an immediate response like the previous heroes. "Marc, I trust you. And Nathaniel needs you."

"... I'll do it."

With a smile, Ladybug handed him the box. Marc opened it, revealing two hair clips in the shape of horns. There was a bright flash of light that had Marc shielding his eyes for a moment before looking up at the goat-like creature floating in front of him. All he could think was, 'I WANNA PET THEM SO MUCH!'

"Hi!" She greeted, "My name's Ziggy, and I'm a Kwami! It's a pleasure to meet you!" She flies around Marc, making him chuckle. "I love him already!" Ziggy squealed as she nuzzled against Marc's cheek. "Okay, to transform, you just gotta say, Ziggy, Fleece On!"

With a nod, Marc put the clips in his hair, where they turned into crescent moon-shaped clips.

"Ziggy! Fleece On!"

Ziggy flew into one of the hairclips, transforming them both back into their original design. Marc swept his hand over his face, making a black mask appear around his eyes. A golden sheep's bell appeared on his choker necklace. The magic spread from the bell and formed a white hoodie with black trumpet sleeves, white gloves with black fingertips, black pants held up by a white studded belt, and black and white combat boots. He ran his fingers through his hair, making fake goat ears appear atop his head, and his hair became an inch longer with the tips dyed white. Finally, he reached up into the air and caught a shepherd's crook that materialized in the air. He spun it around before tapping it on the ground.

Capricorn was ready!

All of Paris' citizens stood before the Eiffel Tower, eyes glued to their phones as they watched the LadyBlog live stream with anticipation. Firefighters stood all around the structure with large trampolines ready to catch someone. And at the very top of the Eiffel Tower were Alya, filming the fight between Chat Noir, Stormy Weather, and Mime, both drawn by Evillustrator, said villain plucking at a rope tied to the railing, and tied at the end of the rope was Lila, dangling thousands of feet above the ground and screaming to the top of her lungs.

"Come on, Lila," Evillustrator told her as he continued messing with the only thing keeping Lila from becoming a stain on the ground. "Make things easier for yourself, and tell everyone the truth."

"I'M NOT A LIAR!" she screeched.

Evillustrator snarled before ducking out of the way of one of Stormy Weather's lightning bolts. "You'll do anything to keep up your act, won't you?!" He drew a throwing dark on his tablet and aimed it for Lila's head. She managed to swing out of the way just in time, much to Evillustrator's frustration. He let out a sigh before saying, "Fine. Have it your way." He draws a blade on his tablet, and that same one appears in his hand.

"NO!" Chat Noir yelled before he was pinned to the floor by one of Mime's invisible objects. His staff was out of reach, and he could barely move. Stormy Weather approached him with her parasol, and zapped him with an ice blast, freezing him in place.

Hawkmoth's symbol appeared over Evillustrator's face, "Evillustrator! Forget the girl! Take Chat Noir's Miraculous! Unthaw his hand!"

"She's made my and my friends' life a living hell, and you expect me to let her GET AWAY WITH IT?!"

In his lair, Hawkmoth swayed slightly due to being overwhelmed by Evillustrator's emotions. How can one boy feel so much rage? He looked through the Akuma's eyes and saw him putting the blade close to the rope holding up his follower. Hawkmoth didn't care for Lila, but he wasn't that cruel. Plus, if she died, where else is he gonna find some selfish civilian willing to work for him and get rid of a couple of Adrien's bad influences in exchange for the hero's downfall and a modeling contract? "That's enough!"

Hawkmoth was physically restraining Evillustrator from cutting the rope. The Akuma struggled to regain control, "Why are you defending her of all people?! You got a soft side for Rossi, Hawkmoth?!" He sneered, "What is she, your follower or something?..." He gets the use of his body back and smirks when Hawkmoth says nothing. "Your silence says a lot."

Alya and the citizens watching from down below gasped. Some inexperienced model was secretly working for Hawkmoth? She was working against their beloved hero! Hawkmoth felt like he was about to pass out from the massive wave of emotions. For once, he was praying for Ladybug to show up and de-akumatize the victim. Once this was over, he needed a long break. Screw the jewelry, this headache was awful.

Evillustrator hummed, "Well, less of Hawkmoth's followers, fewer problems." He slashed the rope, and Lila plummeted to the earth with a blood-curdling scream.

"OH MY GOD!" Alya screamed as she dropped her phone.

The firefighters tried to pinpoint where she would drop, and the police stood by, ready the question the girl (If she lives). Lila was halfway to her doom. She clenched her eyes shut and waited while thinking to herself, 'I'm lucky enough to have gotten out of there without him exposing me! That pest better get here in time!' Right as she was at the second level of the tower, she suddenly stopped falling. It felt like something was hoisting her up. She opened one eye and turned her head to see who caught her. (Maybe gain some sympathy while she's at it) "Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for-"

"Cram it, Liar Rossi," Capricorn sneered as he pulled Lila away from the balcony using his crook, and set her down. He unhooked his weapon from her jacket and ran off to help Ladybug.

"HEY!" Lila screeched, throwing away her kicked puppy act. "Aren't you gonna untie me?!"

Capricorn just smirked, having no intention of helping her, and vaulted his way up to the summit of the Eiffel Tower.

Ladybug spun her YoYo, deflecting each of Evillustrator’s projectiles while occasionally using her weapon to hit the ice Chat was trapped in and free him.

”So Ladybug, tell me.” He drew a few throwing stars, “Is Lila really your best friend?”

Ladybug flung one of the projectiles into the throwing stars, making it explode on impact. “She hates me! I try to be friends with her, but she swore a vendetta on me!” She backflips away from the sketchbook before it could pull her in. “Hell, I’m pretty sure she wants me dead! When I was fighting Oni-Chan, she tricked Chat into leaving me!” At the mention of her partner, she threw her YoYo at the ice block once again, creating a few cracks along the surface. “So to answer your question, we never will be friends! Ever!”

Alya felt her hands shaking as she struggled to keep her phone up. She owed Marinette, Nathaniel, Alix, Rose, Juleka, and Marc a huge apology when or if this is all over. So far, it’s not looking good.

Ladybug threw her YoYo once more, intending to grab the sketchbook, but it instead wrapped around a sheet of flypaper. When she retracted it, Ladybug had some trouble separating the two, and just got both of her hands and weapon stuck to the paper. Evillustrator drew a ball and chain around the heroine’s ankle and calmly approached her.

”I won,” he sang as he reached his hand over to grab the earrings. Alya cut her phone off and shielded her eyes. She wanted to know the heroes' identities, but not like this.

But a second before the earrings were in his grasp, Evillustrator was whacked to the side and fell to the ground. While getting up, he watched as a figure dressed in black and white used a shepherd’s crook to break the chain connected to the 100lb ball, and the ice trapping Chat Noir. “Who are you supposed to be?!” He snarled.

He smiled, “The name’s Capricorn.”

Without saying a word, Evillustrator furiously drew a missile on his tablet that appeared and went after the heroes. While running, Ladybug finally got the flypaper off and threw her YoYo around Alya. She flung her over to the elevator and yelled, “Go!” Alya complied and quickly went inside the elevator to avoid the fight.

As he and Capricorn ran, Chat came up with an idea on how to get rid of the missile. To the new hero, he shouted, “Launch me!” With a nod, Capricorn ran ahead of Chat, got down on one knee, and locked his fingers together. Once he was close enough, Chat leaped into Capricorn’s hands, and the latter launched him into the air. Chat called out “Cataclysm!” as he went over the missile, and slid his hand across it, turning it into black ash.

”Nice one, you guys!” Ladybug commended as she rejoined the fight.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without ewe,” he shot Capricorn double finger guns, making Ladybug roll her eyes and Capricorn stifle a laugh. Seeing Evillustrator drawing something else, Ladybug said to the new hero, “Capricorn, use your power. You can connect with Nathaniel and figure out what’s wrong!”

He nodded, “Cover me!”

Ladybug and Chat Noir ran towards Evillustrator, just as he was finished drawing three buzz saws. Chat Noir got in front of Ladybug and deflected them while she called for another Lucky Charm. It was a box of tissues. She set those to the side and went after Evillustrator, wrapping her YoYo tight around him. He kept his sketchbook clutched close to his chest and had no intention of letting go.

With him restrained, Capricorn yelled, “Connection!” And his crook was illuminated by a bright white light. He calmly approached Evillustrator, ignored his threats, and tapped his forehead with the crook. In an instant, Capricorn was no longer at the Eiffel Tower; he was at someone’s home. He looked around and recognized the place thanks to the furniture and photos framed on the wall. He was at Nathaniel’s house.

”Where’s my lil’ Leonardo?!” A playful voice called out followed by some giggling. Capricorn looked towards the door and saw a tall man with dark red hair and turquoise eyes walking in with a bright smile and a bag in his hands. Capricorn recognized the man. He’s seen his photos every time he goes over to Nathaniel’s house. It was his father, Maison Kurtzberg.

The man smiled as a child with long red hair wearing paint-splattered clothes ran into his arms. It was clear to Capricorn that the boy was Nathaniel.

”We really gotta cut your bangs, kids,” Maison laughed as he ruffled young Nathaniel’s hair, making the child laugh.

”Oh, leave him alone,” a voice Capricorn recognized as Aya’s said. “he likes how they look.” The seven-year-old nodded in agreement with his mother, making Maison chuckle.

”Well then, how are you gonna be able to see when you’re drawing in your books?” he asked.

”Oh, our little artist used up all of his sketchbooks,” Aya simpered while Maison just looked astonished.

”All ten of them?” Aya nodded. “Well then...” He hands Nathaniel over to Aya and reaches into the bag his holding, “It’s a good thing I bought this!” He pulls out a black sketchbook with a white outline of a paintbrush, pencil, and pen on the front. The young boy’s eyes gleamed under his bangs, and he made grabby motions with his hands, either to get to his dad or grab the new sketchbook.

Aya giggled and kissed her son’s forehead. “We really need to get him to talk more.”

Capricorn smiled at the scene before it faded away and transitioned to the school locker room. He looked around and saw Nathaniel, standing at his locker and frantically flipping through the torn pages of a black book. Upon closer inspection, Capricorn realized that it was Nathaniel’s sketchbook, the one his dad bought for him.

‘So that’s what Lila did,’ he thought bitterly.

When Nathaniel broke out into tears and sat down on the floor, Capricorn approached and kneeled beside him. “... Nathaniel?” He looked up at him with a tear-stained face and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Capricorn placed his hands on Nathaniel’s shoulders, “You had every right to be mad. You-“

Nathaniel cut him off, “Took my anger out on everyone! I-I trapped my classmates, I hurt Ladybug and Chat Noir, I tried to kill Lila!” He covers his face with his hands and cries harder, “I almost hurt Marc...”

Capricorn wanted to tell him, ‘No you didn’t.’ But that would reveal himself as Marc.

”My classmates are gonna hate me even more for what I did to Lila. Don’t make me go back out there...”

“I won’t.” He moves Nathaniel’s hands out of the way and cups his face in his hands. “But you can’t stay Akumatized forever. I get why you’re upset. That sketchbook came from someone very important to you and she took it away...”

Nathaniel sighs and holds his hand against his cheek. “...”

”... If it makes you feel any better, Evillustrator exposed Lila as Hawkmoth’s partner.”

Nathaniel looks up, hopeful, “He did?”

Capricorn nodded, “You won’t have to worry about her anymore. She can’t hurt you or your friends again.”

“... The Akuma's in my sketchbook,” he said, right before the locker room faded away.

Capricorn looked around and saw that he was back at the Eiffel Tower. In front of him was a heavily crying Evillustrator, no longer bound by Ladybug’s YoYo. He slowly loosened his grip around his sketchbook and handed it over to Capricorn. The goat hero took it, turned around, and tore the book in half. The pages scattered onto the floor and morphed into the people Evillustrator trapped in the sketchbook. Finally, the Akuma fluttered out of the book.

”No more evil-doing for you, little Akuma!” Ladybug caught it with her YoYo. “Time to de-evilize! Gotcha!” Emerging from the YoYo was a pure white butterfly that fluttered up into the sky. “Bye-bye little butterfly.” She looked around for the tissue box Lucky Charm until she saw Capricorn using a handful to wipe Evillustrator’s tears away. With a smile, she took the box and tossed it into the air.

”MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

The tissue box burst into thousands of magic Ladybugs that flew across the city. The people released from the sketchbook were placed back on the ground, all of the damage caused by Evillustrator was fixed, Chat and Ladybug’s cuts from earlier were healed, everything erased was restored, and Lila was no longer tied up. Finally, the Akuma’s magic washed over Evillustrator, leaving Nathaniel curled in on himself.

Ladybug and Chat Noir fist bump, “Pound it.”

Chat Noir looks off to the side and notices something lying on the floor. He walks over to it and picks up Nathaniel’s repaired sketchbook. “Hey,” Nathaniel looks up and gasps when he sees his sketchbook, “this yours?” He hands it over to the redhead, who immediately takes it.

”Th-thank you,” he whispered in disbelief as he flipped through the pages. Everything was there. He furrowed his brow in confusion, “I-I thought the Miracle Cure could only repair things caused by the Akuma.”

Ladybug wasn’t sure how to answer that. Maybe the Miracle Cure could fix Akumatized objects that were previously damaged, she thought. Before Ladybug could reply, he YoYo beeped. She switched it to the phone setting and saw a LadyBlog Livestream, only Alya’s phone was pointed to the floor. Did she know she was live right now?

”Please! All it takes is a few tears, and everyone will think Hawkmoth manipulated or blackmailed me!” It was Lila.

”Did Alya plan this?” Ladybug wondered.

”Clever girl,” Chat said.

“And just wait until tomorrow. Those idiots will fall at my command and attack that asshole, Kurtzberg! Maybe I can get them to tear up his sketchbook again! No doubt Ladybug's fixed it."

Capricorn‘s grip around his weapon tightened when she said that.

She let out a fake whine, “‘Oh, Nathaniel tried to kill me! Lock him away!’ See? It’s that easy!”

“I’ll tell everyone!” Alya retorted.

”And who’s gonna believe some lousy tabloid writer?” She taunted. “One word from me, and you’ll be a social pariah like those f*g art kids!”

Ladybug wanted to punch that girl so badly... Eh, let Paris take care of her.

”What the hell did you do to her?!”

”Well, let’s see... Threatened her, told her she’d lose her friends, and succeeded. Framed her for theft, cheating, and assault. Then I got her expelled so I could have Adrien all to myself."

Chat Noir held back the bile rising in his throat.

”So, I’m gonna go on a limb here and say you’ve been lying about every single thing.”

”Took you long enough, idiot! I hope you like sitting alone tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll be rich from taking that dumpy bitch’s charity money, and modeling for Gabriel.”

”And meanwhile, Paris will be hunting you down.” Alya pans the phone over to her smug face. “You heard it here, Paris. Lila is working for Hawkmoth, has been tormenting students and Francoise-DuPont, stealing charity money, and she’s homophobic.”

She pans the phone towards Lila’s horrified face. “So Lila, how does it feel to be the most hated girl in France? Oh, look at that. The comments are rolling in- Wow, everyone really hates you.”

Officer Raincomprix steps in between the two girls, “Miss Césaire, we’re going to need that phone for evidence, please.”

”One minute sir,” the video pans to her face, “Babe, if you’re watching this, I’m sorry. Your phone’s with the cops now. Okay, here you go.” The screen cuts to black.

Chat Noir couldn’t help but laugh, “I love that girl!”

Ladybug ran her fingers through her hair and grinned, “It’s over! She’s gone! She’s finally gone!” She turns to Capricorn with a bright smile, “Capricorn, why don’t you take Nathaniel back home? I’ll meet up with you later.”

With a nod, the goat hero scooped up Nathaniel into his arms and leaped away. Ladybug and Chat Noir swung and vaulted off, feeling very relieved knowing that they would have to deal with Lila anymore as civilians or heroes.

Capricorn landed right outside Nathaniel’s home and gently set him down.

”Thanks,” Nathaniel said as he shyly looked down at the ground. “A-again, I am so sorry about-“

”Nathaniel, it’s fine,” Capricorn reassured him. “You weren’t in control. I’m sure everyone will understand.”

Nathaniel smiled at that, “Thanks.”

Then, without thinking, Capricorn pulled him in for a hug, which Nathaniel returned once he got over his surprise. This lasted for a few more seconds until Nathaniel said, “I- uh... I have a boyfriend.”

Capricorn mentally facepalmed. ‘You’re not Marc right now! Nathaniel is not Capricorn’s boyfriend!’ "Sorry." Awkwardly, he pulled away and the two boys looked away in embarrassment. Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, someone called out, "NATH!" It was Alix, running towards him with Rose and Juleka. The latter narrowed her eyes at the goat hero, making him tense up and worry she'll figure out he's Marc.

"Oh, shit!" Alix cursed and she engulfed Nathaniel in a bone-crushing hug. "I thought we lost you, bud!"

"We could hear everything while we were in the sketchbook," Rose piped up. "They know Lila's lying!"

"Everyone in Paris does," Juleka smiled. "A police car drove by me earlier and I saw her in the back seat."

Alix cackled, "You should have seen their faces, Nath! It was priceless! Bustier was rocking back and forth like a mental patient, Max was face-palming over and over, and Mylene? Whoa! Don't get me started-"

Rose pointed to Capricorn, "Who's this?" Alix and Juleka turned their attention to the new hero.

"Sweet!" Alix pumped her fist in the air. "A new hero! And he helped take down Rossi!"

Capricorn's elation from the compliments turned to concern when Nathaniel asked, "Wait, where's Marc? Is he okay?!" Before Capricorn could come up with an excuse, Juleka answered, "Oh, his moms called him home," she fibbed while occasionally stealing glances at Capricorn. "I was gonna go with him, but my mom needed me home for something, too. He's probably still there."

Capricorn furrowed his brow. Did Juleka know?

"Thanks, Jules!" The four of them watched him run to Marc's house. With them distracted, Capricorn took this opportunity to quickly vault away once he heard his clips beeping and go look for Ladybug.

Capricorn met with Ladybug in an alley near his house and said the de-transformation words. "Ziggy, fleece off." The goat kwami flew out from the hair clip and hovered next to Marc, nuzzling his cheek as he removed the clips.

"That was so much fun!" Ziggy squealed. "Can you call on him again one day? Pleeease?" She put her flipper-hands together and gave Ladybug dough eyes, making her and Marc laugh.

"We'll see," Ladybug giggled. She gives Ziggy a little pat on her head before pulling out the box. Marc set the clips back in and said goodbye to Ziggy before she flew back into the horn-shaped clips.

"Thank you, Marc." She tucked the box away then pulled out her yoyo, preparing to swing away. "I knew I picked the right person for the job. Now, I suggest you go make sure Nathaniel is alright."

Marc nodded, "I will."

"See you soon, Capricorn." Marc wanted to ask what she meant by that, but she was already gone. He let out an excited squeal before running to his house. He waited outside for about three minutes until he saw Nathaniel running towards him.

"Nath!" The two ran towards each other and met each other with a tight, loving embrace.

"Rainbow, I'm so sorry," Nathaniel whispered, taking an exhale before asking, "Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that. Nath, what Lila was... It-it was fucked up." Nathaniel nodded once he got over the shock of hearing his boyfriend curse. "But she's gone, now. She can't hurt you, me, Mari, anyone anymore."

With a smile, Nathaniel kissed Marc, and he melted into it as he wrapped his arms around Nathaniel.

The next day, the art club kids walked to school together. (Marc made sure to set an alarm for Marinette) They wanted to be prepared for any random apologies from the Akuma class or any reporters swarming the schoolyard looking for Hawkmoth's latest victim. When they realized DuPont was an Akuma hotspot, news crews would always go to get an interview from the Akumatized student or teacher. So far no reporters yet, much to Nathaniel's relief, but there were a few police cars parked outside.

Around them were a few officers questioning the students and teachers as they made their way to the doors. Before they could go in, the doors swung open, and four police officers walked out, escorting Mme. Bustier and M. Damocles to the police cars. Marinette asked Nino, who walked out a second later, "Are Mme. Bustier and M. Damocles getting arrested?"

Nino shrugged, "I heard the school board decided to do an investigation when Lila mentioned missing months of school and getting you expelled without any proof. Some people from the board came, talked to them, and, uh..." He slipped off his cap and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't think we're gonna see them for a while, Mari."

Marinette couldn't help but grin at the news, "I don't have to be the class example anymore!" Nino's eyes bulged at that. "I-it's a long story. I'll tell you later."

Nino chuckled before giving the group a remorseful look, "I... I'm sorry I didn't believe you guys."

"Don't sweat it, Lahiffe," Alix said. "You guys are just too nice and naive to notice when you're being conned."

Nino furrowed his brow as he processed what she just said. After a moment of silence, he said, "Thank... You? Well, school is canceled for today and the class is going to get some ice cream. You guys in?"

"Yeah!" Alix cheered. "Let's get some ice cream and apologies!" She sat on top of the stair railing and slid down.

"There they are," Kim said, pointing to Nino arriving with the art students. The Akuma class tensed up as they approached. Some were going over their apologies in their heads while others were figuring out what to say, especially to Marinette and Nathaniel. "Alright," he took a breath, "let's do this, guys."

Before any of them could apologize, Alix spoke, "Yes, yes. You all were idiots, we're smart, you're sorry, and promise to listen to us when we say someone is lying."

"... Y-yeah. Ba-basically," Kim stammered. "But seriously, you guys, we're sorry we took Lila's side."

"We've known you guys since we were kids," Mylene remarked. "We should've known you guys couldn't have done the stuff Lila said you did."

"Yeah, you should've," Juleka muttered, making Rose nudge her girlfriend with her elbow.

Alya walked over to Marinette with a sad smile, "Any chance you guys might forgive us someday?"

Marinette smiled and pulled the girl in for a hug, "Alya, shut up. I forgive you."

The creole girl smile and wrapped her arms around Marinette, "Thanks, Mari."

"... But if this happens again, I will physically knock some sense into you all until you admit that I'm right and beg for mercy," she whispered. The students just stood there, disturbed by what the sweetest girl in class just said.

Alya slowly back away from Marinette and nervously chuckled, "Got it, girl."

"Now, Alya," Alix piped up, "guys, isn't there someone else you want to apologize to?" She gestures over to Nathaniel.

Alya wasn't sure what to say to Nathaniel. The only time they really interacted was yesterday when she accused him of stealing Lila's art. So, taking a deep breath, she said to him, "Nathaniel, I... I jumped the gun, there, I'll admit it." A few nodded along. "When I think about it, the more I realize that you'd never steal another person's art."

"I mean you went into a fifteen-minute rant during history when we were talking about some art thief," Ivan brought up. He chuckled at the memory before stopping abruptly. "Yeah... Sorry."

"I forgive you guys," Nathaniel smiled. "Just don't do that ever again or I might also knock some sense into you guys."

To change the subject, Max brought up Capricorn, and now that was all anyone could talk about. Marc blushed when some of the girls called his hero persona cute. Was he? He didn't really get a good look at his outfit. As they rambled on about the new hero, he and Nathaniel went to get some ice cream.

"So, what'd you think of Capricorn?" Marc asked.

Nathaniel hummed in thought before answering, "I like him. He really helped me out there... Plus, he's kinda cute." Marc tried to fight back a blush. "Not as cute as you, though." Marc wasn't sure how to respond to that. "He was really understanding about why I got Akumatized and he even convinced me to hand over my Akuma."

Marc feigned surprise. "Really?"

He nodded. "Do you think he'd mind if we put him in the comic?"

Marc pretended to think about it for a moment, "I don't think so."

AO3

~Taglist~

#Evillustrator #marc x nathaniel #Badass Nathaniel Kurtzberg #lila gets exposed #Goat Marc #goat miraculous #ml salt fanfic #class redemption

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